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It was January 2004, the last year of my dad’s life. Dad had had a heart valve replaced when he was 80 years old, and now at the age of 89 was facing another heart valve replacement.  I took him down to Mayo Clinic in Rochester for him to get a second opinion from one of the cardiologists. The cardiologist, after having examined dad and all of dad’s tests, sat with us and said to dad, “Walter, you can have this heart valve replaced. However, I cannot guarantee that the surgery will make your life better, nor can I guarantee that it will prolong your life.” My dad, was a mechanical engineer, and I saw expressed in his face the logic that guided him professionally most of his life. He looked at the doctor and replied, “Hell, I am 89 years old. I am not going to live forever.” He decided to not have the surgery and died from congestive heart failure in November of 2004.

The scripture readings for this weekend force us to face that which my dad confronted in January 2004. We are finite beings and our bodies are going to breakdown and eventually die. While we are still alive in our bodies, we are giving a choice. Do we wish to cultivate and grow our relationship with God, or, do we wish to ignore the relationship that God offers us? The choice is exclusively ours.

The first reading from the second book of Maccabees (part of the historical books in the Catholic Bible, and in the apocrypha in the Protestant Bible) is a rather macabre, grisly tale of a Jewish mother and her seven sons being tortured, maimed, and then burned alive at the order of the Greek King Antiochus. Their crime was refusing to eat meat that had been sacrificed to the Greek gods. They chose to be in relationship with God and suffer a horrible death, rather than to destroy their relationship with God and live. In reading the full story from the second book of Maccabees (2 Maccabees 7:1-42) the mother tells her sons that their relationship with God is closer and supersedes even that of a mother for her children. The mother consuls one of her sons, “Son, have pity on me, who carried you in my womb for nine months, nursed you for three years, brought you up, educated and supported you to your present age. I beg you, child, to look at the heavens and the earth and see all that is in them; then you will know that God did not make them out of existing things. In the same way humankind came into existence. Do not be afraid of this executioner, but be worthy of your brothers and accept death, so that in the time of mercy I may receive you again with your brothers.”

The Gospel reading is the familiar story of the Sadducees challenging Jesus’ teaching about resurrection and everlasting life. They pose to Jesus, a story of a woman, who over time had married seven brothers, widowed at each marriage and who eventually died never having borne any children. They ask Jesus, if there is a resurrection, to which husband would she be married? (I must interject at this juncture, that this Gospel story always reminds me of an inappropriate Ole and Lena joke, in which Lena is married to Ole, widowed, and then, marries, Hans, widowed again, and then marries Sven, and is widowed again. The only difference from the Gospel story is that Lena had a very fruitful life having giving birth to 24 children collectively during her marriages to Ole, Hans, and Sven.) Jesus replies that life after death is not consumed with the relationships we formed during life, but rather, overwhelmingly consumed in being in relationship with God.

These two readings remind us that God entered into relationship with us at the moment we were conceived in our mother’s womb. We were named and claimed by God at that very moment. Our relationship with God is ultimately the most important relationship in our lives. God has always been in relationship with us, even when we refuse to acknowledge that very relationship. In the Gospels, Jesus points out that instead of being self-consumed and focused only in our present life, ultimate happiness rests in the relationship we cultivate with God. What is in the present is temporary. What lies beyond the present is everlasting. The pastoral letters of Paul, John, James, and Peter teach the same lesson. That which human beings consider treasure, e.g. gold, silver etc, in this world, rusts, disintegrates and passes away. That treasure that lasts forever is the relationship we have with God. Are we going to spend our lives chasing after treasure that is no more than a mirage, or are going to spend our lives pursuing a treasure that will last into eternity?

The goal of our life is not that which we will find in the present. The goal of our life must focus on that which will be.  Our life after death will mirror the relationships we have with others in this life. If our life is self-focused, and self-consumed, than the future of our life after death will be one of isolation from God and others. If our relationships with others are unloving and only formed to satisfy ourselves, eternity will be filled with the emptiness and darkness of the relationships we had. If our relationships with others were that of unselfish love for others, then those relationships will be stepping stones to an everlasting life of love, happiness and fulfillment with God. Again, this is a message we hear preached not only by Jesus in the Gospels, but repeated in the pastoral letters of Paul, Peter, John and James.  

As my dad so succinctly expressed in January of 2004, we do not live forever. Our bodies are going to wear out and eventually die. My dad was a person of great honesty, integrity and compassion. He did not fear death because he knew that the life and love that after death was going to surpass the life and love he had experienced in life. He knew that when he died, he would be swept up in God’s everlasting embrace of love. The fulfillment for which my dad strived and after which my dad sought, would be realized not in this life, but in everlasting life.

Woody Allen once said, “I don’t fear death. I just don’t want to be there when it happens.” None of us actively seek death. Our bodies are programmed to seek life. Let us program the lives we are living now, not for what we can find in the present, but that life which beckons beyond this life. Let us live lives that always seek the relationship we have had with God from the moment we were conceived.

HOMILY FOR THE 31^ST SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME, YEAR C

In the first reading from Wisdom, we hear, “For you love all things that are and loathe nothing that you have made; for you would not fashion what you hate. How could a thing remain, unless you willed it; or be preserved, had it not been called forth by you? (God) you spare all things, because they are yours, O Ruler and Lover of souls, for your imperishable spirit is in all things! (Wisdom 11:24-25, 26-12:1)

Human beings like to compartmentalize things. We like to group things and people into neat, little categories. We also like to do this with God. It is easy for us to isolate God to a building that we visit one hour a week, making God a prisoner of a building. Then we walk out the door of a church, thinking we have left God behind in the church and that God has no relationship with anything or anyone outside the church doors.

In the reading from the book of Wisdom, it is written that God’s imperishable spirit is in all things. As the psalmist in Psalm 139 observes, there is no place to which we can escape without God already being there. What the author of the book of Wisdom makes it so very clear that God’s spirit is present in all created things, earth, wind, water, fire. There is not one thing in heaven and earth in which God’s Spirit is absent. There is not one thing in heaven and earth that God does not love.

As we get closer to the end of the liturgical year, it is important for us to open our awareness of God not only in all that is around us, but especially God’s presence within us and in other people.

This expanded knowledge of God in and around us must reflect the relationship we have with nature. Since God is present in all created things, to deface, to diminish, to harm our environment is an indicator of our relationship with God.

The hardest thing for us to swallow is the love that God has for all people. The author of the Book of Wisdom reminds us that God loves all things and loathes nothing, for how could God create anything that God hates. If God does not hate that which God has created, nor can we. God does not love exclusively. God loves inclusively. This is something with which many of us struggle. If we truly believe that God’s Spirit is present in all people, and there is not one person that God does not love, then we cannot use, cheat, or abuse people. If we truly believe that God’s Spirit is present all people, prejudice, racism, violence, hunger, and all want would be eliminated from our world.

In the familiar story of Zacchaeus, the tax collector (Luke 19:1-10), Zacchaeus has this moment in which his eyes are open to the presence of God in the people with whom he is in relationship. Zacchaeus realizes that in the way he has harmed others, he has harmed God. He needs to correct the harm he has done. He says to Jesus, “Behold, half of my possessions, Lord, I shall give to the poor, and if I have extorted anything from anyone I shall repay it four times over.” For those who held Zacchaeus in contempt, Jesus quickly corrects them that God is present in Zacchaeus. “Today salvation has come to this house because this man too is a descendant of Abraham.”

As we get closer to the end of this liturgical year, and the readings point to the time of Christ’s second coming, let us open our eyes like Zacchaeus to the presence of God all around us; in nature, and most importantly, in all people.

Some pictures of the Saints I know.

left to right: my mom, my Uncle Bob, my grandfather Oscar, my Uncle Ozzie, and my Aunt Ruth (Greta, the little girl is still with us)

It is the feasts of All Saints/All Souls. I do not think of these feasts as separate, in spite of the tedious 20 minute homily I heard last night at Mass explaining the difference between the church militant, the church suffering and the church glorious. It was all a bunch of yah-dah, yah-dah, yah-dah to me.

Who are the saints in our lives? While I believe that Peter, Paul, all the rest of the apostles, Mary the mother of Jesus, Mary Magdalene, and others are legitimate saints whose lives we must venerate, there are a lot of saints on the official Church calendar I consider hardly saints. And there are some people who should be on the calendar of saints and are omitted. For years, Archbishop Oscar Romero was declined sainthood because of Pope John Paul II’s right wing politics. Romero was a martyr for the faith, who died for his faith, which should make him an automatic saint. Ironically, John Paul II, who held up his canonization, was made a saint even though he looked the other way and knowingly did not discipline bishops and priests guilty of sexually abusing children. Under his papacy the corruption within the Roman Curia skyrocketed. The canonization process is highly political and flawed.

So who are the saints in our lives? It is those people who have tried throughout their lives to live the commandment Jesus gave us on Holy Thursday night, “love one another has I have loved you.” Think of those whose love for us has shaped our lives. Think of those who gave of themselves to us and to others in love. They used their lives gradually perfecting how to love as Jesus loves. And though their bodies wore out and died, they continue to live and love us. At funerals, I often speak about how death does not sever the bonds of love we have had with those who have died. They are no longer hampered by a body, but love more intensely then when they had a body. All we need do is think their name and they are at our side. If our loved one had been a parent, well, us kids can’t get away with anything any more. Like Santa, they now KNOW when we are naughty and nice.

You will notice that I have two of my pet dogs among the human saints pictured above. Pope Francis has preached that our pets are in heaven. If the definition of a saint is that of one who has loved as Jesus loved, those two great Pyrs loved me and my family more fully than many people. Those two dogs loved us so much that they were ready to guard us and die for us if necessary. When they died, their loss was hugely felt by all of us and we still grieve their loss.

I love how the Latino culture celebrates these two days. They keep the memory of their dead loved ones alive by celebrating their lives, picnicking at their gravesites, building a special altar with the pictures of their loved ones, cooking their favorite foods, having their favorite drinks present, and their favorite pass times. The Latinos I have known, never forget their loved ones because they believe their loved ones are always present. That is why I believe we must honor and celebrate the feast days (the day of their death is the day of their birth into everlasting life) of our deceased loved ones. We need to tell and retell the stories, especially those that were important for us. We need to keep their pictures around us, and remember them when we gather at those important family functions and banquets.

In conclusion, I would like to relate the last two days of my sister, Mary Ruth’s life. On August 8th, 1997, my sister was moved from ICU to hospice. After my sister was settled into hospice (there was no home hospice at that time), she greeted all our dead relatives in the room. She turned to my mother and I and said, “They are playing my song but I am not ready to hear it.” My mom turned to me and said quietly, “It must be the morphine.” I told mom, “Morphine is not a hallucinogen like LSD, mom. She is beginning to see what is really real from that which is temporary (as St Paul writes in the 4th chapter of his second letter to the Corinthians). Mary was correct. She was not ready to hear her song. She still had two days and died early in the morning on August 10th.

When we are born from this life to the next, I hope to see all those pictured above welcoming me home to heaven. Till that time I will keep holy their feast day (the day of their death and birth to heaven). We will light candles in memory of them at our banquet table here on earth, till we can join them around the banquet table of God promised to us by Jesus.

REFLECTION ON THE 29^TH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME, YEAR C

We are closely approaching the end of the liturgical year. The scriptures point more and more to the end times, when we, as Christians, believe that Jesus will come again. If we have been observant, the scriptures for the past month or so have been preparing us for that time. Jesus has been teaching us for some time about what it means to live the second part of the Great Commandment, that is, loving our neighbor as ourselves. Now Jesus focuses on the first part of what it means to love God with all our mind, heart, and soul. At the end of the Gospel for today Jesus asks this question, “When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”

What does Jesus mean by the world “faith”? When we speak the word faith, what does it mean to us? By faith, are we speaking about our own religious tradition? Or, when we speak the word, faith, does faith mean something more than our own particular religious tradition?

I remember the definition of religion I taught as a catechist. Religion is how we organize our world. A Christian is going to organize the world differently from that of one who is Jewish, or one who is Muslim. One who is a Hindu is going to organize the world differently from that of one who is Buddhist, and so on. The one consistent between all these different religions is that God is a major part of the world for all these world religions. Atheism is a religion only in so much that an Atheist organizes the world without God. How we organize the world has a distinct way of how we approach life.

Religion, in itself, is not and must not be the object of our faith. Human leadership is a part of all religion, whether it be a Rabbi, a Pope, a Bishop, an Iman, an Orthodox Patriarch, a Swami, or the Dali Lama. In as much that there is a human element to the leadership of a religion, there will always be the chance of scandal and corruption. If we place our faith in a religious institution, our faith will always have the chance of being betrayed. Let’s face it, Jewish religious authorities, both the Sanhedrin and the Pharisees (who were theologically in opposition to each other) betrayed Jesus, who was Jewish, and plotted and set up his execution by the Romans. It is the false faith placed on  religious institutions that has led to the abandonment of much of organized religion by many people.

However, the abandonment of organized religion has led to the heresy of our modern age, individualism. Individualism confines the definition of God to our own individual self. The word, God, is defined by the word, me. The only religious holiday is “my” birthday. The only religious leader to follow is “myself.” It is only “I” who holds, defines, and structures the world and no one else. The universe is only that which I see and experience, and all else that doesn’t have any effect on my life is meaningless. When we make ourselves God, and only have faith in ourselves, then the universe collapses around us. This universe confined to the individual is destructive to the human community and to all of creation.

There is a great need for religion. However, religion must lead us to God. Note the plurality in the use of the word, “us.” Religion is not just about me, but about all of us seeking God. To have faith in God is to believe that God is the source of all goodness in our lives, and all for which we long in our lives. To have faith in God is to have direction in our lives and a purpose to our lives. To have faith in God is to live beyond the narrow limit of our lives and expand our consciousness of God and be aware of God’s presence all around us. To have faith in God is to experience God as immanent to us as our own breath, at the same time sensing the transcendence of God beyond our breath. To have faith in God leads us to trust in that which lay beyond our human senses. To have faith in God leads us to embrace mystery, knowing that the word, certainty, is being content in not having all the answers. Faith in God encompasses all of this and is expressed in the way we treat others (loving our neighbor as ourselves), and, like the widow in the Gospel today, badger God for that which we need knowing that God will listen to us. Faith in God is the knowledge that God always watches our back and will always look after us. 

We are living in the end times. In fact, all of humanity has been living in the end times since the Ascension of Jesus. Jesus asks us, “When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?” So, when Jesus comes again, will he find us standing with those who have faith in God or those who have only faith in themselves?

REFLECTION ON THE GOSPEL FOR THE 28^TH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME, YEAR B

This gospel story, Luke 17:11-19, is a very familiar to us. For Catholics, it is the gospel chosen for Thanksgiving Day in the United States. Ten lepers, among whom one was a Samaritan, cry out to Jesus as he passes by. Their cry is not warning others to stay away because of their infectious disease, but rather they call out to Jesus, “Have pity on us!” He looks at them, and then orders them to show themselves to the priests. As they are on the way, they are healed miraculously from their leprosy.  The Samaritan, realizing he has been healed, does not go to the priests, but rather return’s immediately to Jesus. He prostrates himself at the feet of Jesus and thanks him. Jesus asks as to the whereabouts of the other nine. Jesus remarks to his disciples that this Samaritan, one who is despised by the Jewish people, is the only one who has returned to give thanks to God for his healing. Jesus then commands the Samaritan to rise and go, concluding with the words, “Your faith has saved you.”

One thing we may observe about the story is that the lepers did not wait first to be cured and then show themselves to the priests. Though still afflicted by their illness,  they believe Jesus’ words and turn to go to the priests. It was this act of faith in Jesus’ word that effected their cure. What stands out is the reaction of the Samaritan to being cured. He decides to not show himself to the priests but rather to immediately go back to Jesus and offer thanks to Jesus for restoring his life. It is because of this expression of gratitude on the part of the Samaritan that we often use this gospel story at celebrations of thanksgiving, e.g. Thanksgiving Day liturgies.

As I reflected on this story for the umpteenth time I found myself reflecting on the times in my life when I have been in the place of the Samaritan leper, and in the place of Jesus in this story.

On many occasions I have been the leper who has received the power of Christ’s healing through others in my life. The healing comes perhaps in a word expressed to me, or in some gesture of support, or an action on the part of another on my behalf. It is has been my awareness that that word, or gesture, or action that was so healing and affirming originated not in the person, but in Christ moving through that person to heal me.

And, there have been times when someone has received healing through some word, gesture or action on my part. I find it somewhat disconcerting when someone attributes healing to me, because I am very much aware of my own sinfulness and weakness. I am very much aware that any healing that is attributed to me originates not in me, but in a power that is quite beyond me, namely, that of Christ. Of course, this awareness is not something new but has been recognized and written about by many of our Christian ancestors.  For instance, St Paul writes in his 2^nd letter to the Corinthians about a pernicious sin in his life, a “thorn in his side” that never seems to leave him. He pleads to God to remove it and God refuses for it is in Paul’s weakness, his powerlessness, that the power of God’s power is revealed. St Paul concludes this observation saying,  “So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me.” (2 Cor 12:9b, NRSV) And in his 1^st letter to the Corinthians, “My speech and my proclamation were not with plausible words of wisdom, but with a demonstration of the Spirit and of power, so that your faith might rest not on human wisdom but on the power of God.” (1 Cor 2:4-5, NRSV)

Whether we hear this gospel in the person of the Samaritan leper or in the person of Jesus, the one dominant point that the gospel story illustrates is that the power of all good originates in God. God uses us to be the conduit through which God’s goodness reaches and touches the lives of those most in need of it. This is expressed in the prayer attributed to St Francis of Assisi, “Make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me bring love. Where there is offense, let me bring pardon. Where there is discord, let me bring union. Where there is error, let me bring truth. Where there is doubt, let me bring faith. Where there is despair, let me bring hope. Where there is darkness, let me bring your light. Where there is sadness, let me bring joy. O Master, let me not seek as much to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand, to be loved as to love, for it is in giving that one receives,
it is in self-forgetting that one finds, it is in pardoning that one is pardoned, it is in dying that one is raised to eternal life.”  

How the goodness and love of God works through us is veiled in mystery. It is not necessary for us to try and unveil that mystery, to try to understand the mystery. Rather, let us be content to immerse ourselves in that wondrous mystery. All that is required of us is to emulate the example of the Samaritan leper in the story and give thanks to God.

REFLECTION ON THE 27^TH SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME, YEAR C

In the Gospel for this weekend we hear Jesus speak about faith, and what it means to serve God and neighbor.

Jesus’ disciples ask hm to “increase their faith.” Jesus replies with the parable of the mustard seed. Unlike that in Matthew and Mark’s accounts, in which one having the faith of a mustard seed can move mountains, Jesus compares one having the faith of a mustard see capable of moving a mulberry tree and transplanting it in the sea. Note, that a mulberry tree has a complex root system which makes it difficult to move. Then Jesus follows up with the story of the servant coming in from the field, and being ordered to feed his master. Jesus concludes the story by stating that the servant receives no reward for serving the master. The servant is doing what the servant is required to do.

How does this story apply to us? Everything we receive from God is a gift. We are gifted by God with faith, and we are to use the faith with which we have been gifted. The one thing that all four Gospels hammer home repeatedly is that Jesus came NOT to be served, but TO SERVE! While we may like to project titles like Lord, and King upon Jesus, it was clear that Jesus’ primary title is that of a servant, who serves God and serves those who are in need. Jesus is the “Servant of God.” The point that Jesus is trying to hammer home to his disciples is that just as he came to serve God and others, THEY ARE TO DO THE SAME! It is what is expected of them.

The second part of the story is not to expect a reward for doing that which you have been called to do. We well know that for all the miracles that Jesus worked in the lives of people; for all the teachings he gave to people, the reward Jesus received in serving others was to be rejected, abandoned, and ultimately to be tortured and executed. The disciples of Jesus will, more than likely, be similarly received. If we choose to be a disciple of Jesus, there can be no motives attached to our service other than to serve. If we serve to receive accolades, honors, and prestige, Jesus’ blistering critique of the Pharisees, then we are NOT disciples of Jesus.

This is something that Bishop Welsh told my class during our ordination retreat two days before I was ordained a permanent deacon. His words were stark and to the point. He told us that if we are being ordained to receive status, honor and accolades in the Church, then we should stay home and not be ordained. Ordination is all about being of service to others. We were being ordained to be servants of the Servant of God, Jesus.

Faith and service to God and others is what is expected of us. There are no rewards attached to our faith and service on Earth. Anything recognition we receive from humanity is shallow and temporary. However, as the scriptures of the Christian Testament teach, our true treasure, and true reward await us by God. As the prophet Habakkuk states in the first readings, “For the vision still has its time,
 presses on to fulfillment, and will not disappoint; if it delays, wait for it,  it will surely come, it will not be late.  The rash one has no integrity; but the just one, because of his faith, shall live.”

Though Francis of Assisi is the patron saint of ecology, he was more than what is depicted for most people, namely, a garden statue or a figurine in a bird bath. Coming from a wealthy merchant family, Francis eschewed wealth and chose to live a way of life embracing Gospel poverty. He put on the garment of a beggar, and would beg money for food, or eat that which people threw away in their garbage. He did this so that the rest of the time he could devote himself to preaching and living the Gospel. A famous saying attributed to Francis is “Preach the Gospel at all times. And, if necessary, use words.” His way of life was to copy as closely as humanly possible the life of Jesus depicted in the Gospels. Not burdened with the stuff that weighs down human life, purchasing a house, working to maintain a house, etc, he was free to devote himself to living for God 24/7. He traveled with the Crusades to Palestine and was so shocked at the behavior of the Crusaders (who were prone to raping and pillaging everywhere they went), he knew that the Crusade would fail utterly. Abandoning the Crusaders, he walked into the Muslim army camp with the intention of converting the Sultan. He was brought before the Sultan, who, instead of having him executed, admired the gutsy behavior of Francis. Francis failed in turning the Sultan from Islam. The Sultan awarded Francis the ability to visit all the holy sites of Palestine without any harm. Francis was able to visit the Grotto in Bethlehem in which Jesus was born. He walked the way of the cross to Golgotha and visited the place in which tradition believed Jesus was laid to rest in Joseph of Arimethea’s grave.

When he returned to Italy, because the people were not able to visit these holy sites, he recreated these sites for people locally. In a cave in Grecio, he found a cave that resembled that which was in Bethlehem and he and the local people celebrated Christmas Mass in that cave. The Christmas creches that we have in our homes and churches reminding us of that momentous time in human history when the Son of God was born in our midst. In many Catholic Churches are the Stations of the Cross in which, every Lent, we recall the Passion and Death of Jesus. That is something that Francis brought to Europe.

Many biographies have been written, good and bad about this simple man, whose way of life attracted so many that he established three religious orders that followed his way or order of life: The First Order, Friars Minor (the little brothers) for single men; The Second Order (Poor Clares), for single women (named after Clare of Assisi); and the Third Order (now called Order for Secular Franciscans) for the laity of men and women, married and single who live in the world. We all live lives of Gospel poverty, in which we live very simply, viewing the things we have around us as a gift from God that is meant to be shared with those most in need. We keep what we need to sustain us and give all the rest to those most in need. I was professed a Secular Franciscan in May of 1980 and have strived to live a life of Gospel poverty all these years.

Francis is one of very few who received the stigmata of Jesus (the five wounds of Christ on the cross). He wanted to be so one with Christ that he prayed that he would also share in the sufferings of Christ on the cross. In a mystic vision a Seraph visited Francis as he was praying and fasting, and gave him the wounds of Jesus in his hands, feet, and side. Those wounds were examined and substantiated by others of his time. They were not self-inflicted. The wounds never healed would bleed all the time, yet, Francis did not die from the loss of blood. They remained with him the rest of his life. The most known stigmatist of modern times was the Franciscan Friar, Padre Pio. I believe he died in the 1970’s.

During the late 70’s I compose a piece of music for piano (which I later composed for organ) entitled, “Fanfare For Brother Francis.” I recomposed the piano music for this in 2016 and included it in my music collection Opus 6. In honor of this great man of faith, I have included it here.

REFLECTION FOR THE 26^TH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME, YEAR C

The readings of this week build on those of last week. Who is the God we adore? Do we adore the God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Lazarus the beggar? Or, do we adore the god of wealth and greed, or Mammon, the name Jesus gave the god last week? Who we adore will be evidenced in the way we love our neighbor.

This week we are presented with a very familiar parable of Jesus from the Gospel of Luke. It is the parable of the rich man and the beggar Lazarus. The story compares the rich man who ate well, dressed well, and had all the luxuries that life offers. Outside the door was the beggar, Lazarus, covered in sores and starving to death. Jesus points out in the story that the rich man’s dogs ate better than the beggar outside his door. For his part, the rich man had no compassion for Lazarus, nor aided the beggar in any way. The one thing in which the rich man and Lazarus shared was they died at the same time. Lazarus went to heaven, and the rich man to Hell. Though Lazarus wanted to alleviate the suffering of the rich man, he was prevented from doing so by the great divide between heaven and hell. The rich man pleaded with Abraham to forewarn his family to live better lives than he, lest they, too, be as tormented for eternity as he. Abraham responds, “If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded if someone should rise from the dead.”

It is presumed in the parable that the rich man fulfilled all the ritual demands of his Judaism. He observed the outward sign of his religion by going to synagogue on the Sabbath, honoring the rituals and food laws of his religion. All this did not spare him from eternal damnation because he did not love and care for his neighbor. As we examine our own lives, are we guilty of the same. We come to Mass on Sunday, we pray our prayers. To the outside observer we demonstrate our Catholicism. However, if we ignore the needs of the poor and those most in need, we will find ourselves in the same unpleasant place as the rich man in the parable.

Our worship of the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is only validated in the way we serve and love our neighbor. Jesus makes this very clear in the Great Commandment. But it is also something that is emphasized by the Paul and James.

In his first letter to the Corinthians (11:17-22), Paul condemns the Corinthian community for the sin of the rich man in the parable for today. They are ignoring the needs of the poor within their own community. “In giving this instruction, I do not praise the fact that your meetings are doing more harm than good. First of all, I hear that when you meet as a church there are divisions among you, and to a degree I believe it; there have to be factions among you in order that (also) those who are approved among you may become known. When you meet in one place, then, it is not to eat the Lord’s supper, for in eating, each one goes ahead with his own supper, and one goes hungry while another gets drunk. Do you not have houses in which you can eat and drink? Or do you show contempt for the church of God and make those who have nothing feel ashamed? What can I say to you? Shall I praise you? In this matter I do not praise you.” Paul continues that this behavior robs the words of consecration of their validity. Those guilty of this eat and drink their own damnation.

James emphasizes this all the more in his letter. He writes (2:1-8), “My brothers, show no partiality as you adhere to the faith in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ. For if a man with gold rings on his fingers and in fine clothes comes into your assembly, and a poor person in shabby clothes also comes in, and you pay attention to the one wearing the fine clothes and say, “Sit here, please,” while you say to the poor one, “Stand there,” or “Sit at my feet,” have you not made distinctions among yourselves and become judges with evil designs? Listen, my beloved brothers. Did not God choose those who are poor in the world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom that he promised to those who love him? But you dishonored the poor person … However, if you fulfill the royal law according to the scripture, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” you are doing well.”

James warns his community to not follow the example of the rich man in the parable. (James 5:1-5)  “Come now, you rich, weep and wail over your impending miseries. Your wealth has rotted away, your clothes have become moth-eaten, your gold and silver have corroded, and that corrosion will be a testimony against you; it will devour your flesh like a fire. You have stored up treasure for the last days. Behold, the wages you withheld from the workers who harvested your fields are crying aloud, and the cries of the harvesters have reached the ears of the Lord of hosts. You have lived on earth in luxury and pleasure; you have fattened your hearts for the day of slaughter.”

Then James tells the community that if they truly believe, their faith will be proven in the way they minister to those in need, their neighbor. “What good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can that faith save him? If a brother or sister has nothing to wear and has no food for the day, and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, keep warm, and eat well,” but you do not give them the necessities of the body, what good is it? So also faith of itself, if it does not have works, is dead. Indeed someone may say, “You have faith and I have works.” Demonstrate your faith to me without works, and I will demonstrate my faith to you from my works.” (James 2:14-18)

Last but not least, Mary, the Mother of Jesus, speaks the same message in her great Canticle of praise, “My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my savior. For he has looked upon his handmaid’s lowliness; behold, from now on will all ages call me blessed. The Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. His mercy is from age to age to those who fear him. He has shown might with his arm, dispersed the arrogant of mind and heart. He has thrown down the rulers from their thrones but lifted up the lowly. The hungry he has filled with good things; the rich he has sent away empty. He has helped Israel his servant, remembering his mercy, according to his promise to our fathers, to Abraham and to his descendants forever.” (Luke 1:46-55)

This message of Jesus, the prophets, the apostles, Paul and James, are pertinent to those of us who call ourselves disciples of Jesus. This is especially so when the message that is preached by our culture and some of our politicians is one in which the individual self is glorified to the detriment of the poor in our nation and on our borders. It is not enough to just say our prayers and go to Mass on Sunday. To say we worship God and ignore the needs of the poor, then, as James states clearly, our faith is dead and worthless. Our faith and our works must match, otherwise we are nothing more than a “noisy gong and a clashing cymbal”. (1 Cor. 1:13).

Is the religion in which we believe all words and no works? If it is, then we may suffer the same fate as the rich man in the parable today. To paraphrase the words of Abraham to the rich man at the end of the parable; if we will not listen to Moses and the prophets, and, I might add, Jesus, Paul, and James, then neither will we be persuaded if someone should rise from the dead. We have been forewarned.

It was this past Wednesday, September 25th, that Ruthie turned to me and said, “Yesterday was your 25th ordination anniversary.” I looked at the calendar and realized I had forgotten that day. Usually, milestone anniversaries don’t get overlooked. I suppose three surgeries in a time span of 12 weeks has a way of refocusing one’s attention.

A lot of time has passed since that momentous day. I have changed in so many ways. I remarked in a note to a friend that at the time of my ordination, I thought I had a good idea of what I was getting myself into having already worked 17 years for the Church and knowing all the grace and goodness of the Church and all the shitty part of the Church as a human institution. Of course, I hadn’t a clue. As in all things of life, were we to know all the good and bad of every life changing decision we make, e.g. working in a new job, moving to a new community, getting into a relationship, we would probably never make any decision or change at all. I can honestly say, knowing what I do know today, I would still seek to be ordained a deacon.

It has been an incredible adventure in faith. Were I not ordained as a deacon I would never have had the opportunity to grow in my faith and meet so many people of great faith. I would never have gotten to know the tremendous faith, courage, and friendship of the many Latinos I have come to know. I would never have been moved by the lives and faith of those in the LGBTQ community, the homeless, the disenfranchised, the ex-offenders, and so many wonderful people who changed my life utterly. I would never have learned how to cope with my own limitations and my own health crises were it not ministering to so many people challenged by health, by grief, and so many other challenges. These people ministered to me more than I ministered to them. The presence of God in their lives have illuminated for me that same presence of God in my own life.

Getting into diaconal formation took approximately a year. Ruth and I went through the application process twice. After many interviews, 8 hours of psychological tests with an in depth follow up with a psychiatrist, we came to our last interview with the selection team. On our drive up to the interview, Ruthie told me in the car that she wasn’t ready for me to start diaconal formation. I always respect everything about Ruth and I said, we will take ourselves out of formation. Upon meeting with the selection team, I told them that Ruth wasn’t ready for this commitment and I withdrew my application. They told me to wait and reapply. A couple of years later, Ruth was ready and we did most of the application process all over again and we were accepted into the program.

We met with our selection team twice a year. I remember the team asking Ruth whether she was okay with me becoming a deacon. She replied, “He is already doing diaconal work. Nothing is going to change much for the family and I.” Truth be told, Ruth is better qualified to be a deacon than I.

After three years of many classes, retreats, many nights away from family, the time for ordination arrived. It was the summer of 1994 when Ruth and I went with the rest of the class to meet with Archbishop Roach. It was then we signed all the papers that would connect our lives with the Catholic Church in ways we never thought possible. I remember when it came to signing the paper stating that should our wives die, we would remain single and celibate the rest of our lives. With the exception of the one bachelor in our class, John Mangan, all pens paused as we consider the commitment we were making. With our wives standing behind us, their right hand on our right shoulders, our pens descended and we sighed and then we signed.

The Thursday and Friday before our ordination (our ordination was on Saturday, September 24, at 10 am), our diaconal class gathered at the Mary Hill house (mansion) on University Avenue for our ordination retreat. Bishop Larry Welsh was our retreat master. It was a powerful time for Ruthie and I, and I believe all of our class. Bishop Welsh told us of his own spiritual journey. How is own alcoholism led him into behaviors he would never have done sober, and how it nearly ended his ministry as a bishop. Having resigned as bishop of Spokane, he began his recovery living at the Basilica in Minneapolis, working at Branch 3 of Catholic Charities ministering to the homeless, and just being with people, none of whom knew he was a bishop. On Easter, the rector of the Basilica asked Welsh to preside as bishop at one of the Easter liturgies. As he walked in procession in vestments, miter and crosier, one of his homeless buddies shouted to him, “Larry! I didn’t know you worked here!” Bishop Welsh taught me that our sinfulness can be a path to greater growth and strength as people of faith. Larry Welsh was a very humble man, and was a tremendous help to me as I began my ministry as a deacon. The other thing that both Ruth and I took away from the retreat was a great love for tomato basil soup. The chef that was hired made a tremendous tomato basil soup and though everyone begged for his recipe, we had to get use to the disappointment of not getting his recipe.

I was as nervous and excited the day of my ordination as I was the day of my wedding to Ruth. The day was cool and cloudy. Getting to the Cathedral was a bit of hassle. President Clinton was in town and some of the major thoroughfares to the Cathedral were blocked by the Secret Service and police because of the President’s motorcade.

I have often said that getting ordained was similar to getting married, only this time I was wearing the long white dress. Many of those ordained with me were wearing knee pads having been warned that the hard marble floor of the Cathedral sanctuary was hard on the knees. Of the Mass, I remember kneeling on that hard marble floor. Laying prostrate on the floor as the prayers were prayed by the Archbishop over my class and I. I remember getting up, kneeling before the Archbishop and placing my folded hands within his, promising him my obedience to him and his successors. And, then, the moment (pictured above) when he placed his hands on either side of my head, and prayed the prayers of ordination, ordaining me a deacon. After the ordination ritual, we rejoined our wives, now as ordained deacons and worshipped with them for the rest of the Mass.

I had composed a special hymn for the ordination Mass, dedicated to Trish Flannigan. Trish, administrative secretary to the diaconate and diaconal formation of the Archdiocese was a de facto member of my ordination class and to this day remains a good, dear friend and a part of my diaconal family. The hymn (heard above as it was heard at the Cathedral that day) is a sung Trinitarian prayer, asking God to bless us in our ministry to those God is sending us to serve. In 2018, I decided to reimagine the same hymn as music for solo piano. There is the piano version of the same hymn.

The homeless guy that nearly drained the communion cup (Deacons are liturgically the minister of the Blood of Christ at Mass), the wonderful reception held for me at St Hubert by choir members, friends, and staff, following the ordination Mass, and my first Mass as an ordained deacon at St Hubert will remain in memory to the time I die.

While I can speak only from my own experience, initially it is easy to get caught up in the liturgical role as a deacon. I have served as a deacon at many Archdiocesan Liturgies (confirmations, ordinations, Chrism Mass and so on), and of course, at many Masses on the parish level. I have baptized many babies, and witnessed many marriages. I have presided over many wakes and funerals. But truth be told, to be ordained to put on a long white dress and wear a diagonal stole is not what it means to be a deacon. It is just a small part of a more important ministry.

Being a deacon is going into places where priests may not often be welcome. It is going to places where others may feel uncomfortable. It is sometimes being a religious target for those who are angry at God, religion, and the Church. It is often ministering to people at the lowest times in their lives, when they are hurting the most. Helping women and children out of dangerous domestic violence situations. It is often just being a quiet listener as folks pour out their lives to you. It is being in the most sacred place of all, that interior place where a person encounters the God who created him/her. There are those intimate secrets that people will reveal to you that they will not even reveal to their spouse. Being a deacon is clothing yourself in the social justice doctrine of the Catholic Church, being a thorn in the side of those who are unjust, including civil authorities (and Church authorities) and speaking out publicly to the injustices perpetuated by others, even when it is not popular. It is the reporting of physical, sexual abuse of minors by family, clergy, to the authorities (I have done both over 25 years). It is long hours, being on call 24/7, hours away from family on Christmas, Easter, and other major times in a life of a family.

Being a deacon is about often being and feeling ignored, unsupported, and forgotten by the Chancery (not always a bad thing, mind you). It means sometimes being rejected by people you serve (especially those whose faith life is stuck in a pre-Vatican II Church). It means not receiving much in the way of affirmation. It means doing your ministry and not being recognized for the ministry you do because most of it is not public and behind the scenes.

What a deacon is not, is getting sucked into the superiority, demi-god mindset of clericalism. It is not about wearing a Roman Collar and getting the high places at the table or a celebration. If a deacon gets all caught up in the smells and bells of liturgy, and the glory that clericalism demands, then the deacon is worthless.

Why on earth would anyone want to be a deacon, if the life of a deacon is challenging and has it own level of negativity? I remember all this being presented to Ruth and I by our selection team when we were in formation. The selection team didn’t mince words. They basically told us that the life of a deacon is hard, often without much reward publicly, often without much support from chancery, sometimes abuse by those you serve and so on. The team always ended with the question, “Knowing this why on earth do you still want to be ordained a deacon?”

This is a good question. Why on earth do I want to be a deacon? Am I a masochist in some S & M relationship with the Catholic Church? No. It is hard to put into words.

To answer the question, I felt called to be a deacon by God. Not some crazy Michele Bachmann thing where she believed God spoke to her to be a member of the House of Representatives or to run for the presidency. God did not speak to me in a specific way. Rather, it is knowing deep inside me that I was being called to something different. I knew this even as a young adolescent. I went on a retreat and knew that I wasn’t called to the priesthood. Besides, I REALLY like girls, and looking at Ruthie, you can understand my great attraction to her.

It was that same feeling I had when I knew that I wanted to marry Ruthie. I just knew. I knew that I was being called to something more and could not get rid of that feeling even when I wanted not to be bothered by it or tried to ignore it. I felt called to something deeper. Then, the diaconate was restored to a permanent ordained order in the Church. Having discovered this, I just knew that it was to the diaconate to which God was calling me. Like I said earlier, I had a good idea of how the Church as a human institution, uses, abuses and casts off people who serve the Church, just like any business or human institution. Yet I still felt called to serve this institution we call the Church.

It is all couched in mystery. It is in that realm of God, when ones journey is dictated by a dream (a la the prophet Daniel, or Joseph, spouse of Mary, the mother of God), by an angel (a la Gabriel and Mary). You just know and cannot explain it. It dogs you everywhere you go. You can’t escape it. You just know.

Secondly, the deacon embodies Christ as Servant. We are joined to Christ, the Suffering Servant of Isaiah. The suffering, the rejection, etc of Jesus is that depicted of Isaiah’s account of the Suffering Servant. Accolades, affirmation, and places of honor are not meant to be the path of those who are called to be servants either of God or human manors. As Jesus said in the Gospel, you are just being a good servant. You are just doing that which you have been called to do. Nothing more. Expect nothing more.

At the same time, Jesus will say, well done good and faithful servant. Receive the reward awaiting you. It is this becoming one with Jesus, The Servant of God, that makes the diaconal ministry so powerful, and helps when you get shit on sometimes by the institutional Church and those you may be called to serve. It is this powerful “oneing” with Jesus, to use the term of Julian of Norwich, that sustains the deacon during the lowest times of ministry and offers hope.

I remember coming home from St Hubert, the Sunday following my ordination. Ruthie plopped on the couch in the living room. She looked at me and asked, “Being a deacon mean being a servant, right?” I replied, “Yes.”. She then said quietly, “Good. Serve me.” If only I served her as much as she has served me. If only I served her as much as I served those assigned to me as a deacon. Now that I am retired, perhaps, I can begin to serve her in the manner she deserves.

REFLECTION FOR THE 25^TH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME, YEAR C

I find it interesting that on United States money we imprint the words, “In God We Trust”. Giving the surface upon which it is printed, I find the words almost an oxymoron. In the history of our nation, it has been proven that for many in our nation, it is not God in whom we trust, it is the money upon which the words are printed. So I ask, in whom do we place our trust? God or money?

In the reading from Amos (Amos 8:4-7*), we hear the prophet condemning the wealthy of his time who place more trust in their wealth than in the God who created them. In fact, their religious rituals are nothing more than rituals devoid of all spirituality. The words spoken in their rituals are empty. They wait impatiently for the Sabbath to end so that they can abuse and cheat the poor. “We will buy the lowly for silver, and the poor for a pair of sandals; even the refuse of the wheat we will sell!” Their greed is so abominable that God responds with these words, “The LORD has sworn by the pride of Jacob: “Never will I forget a thing they have done!”

In Paul’s 1^st letter to Timothy, we hear Paul asking Christians to pray for those in government so that all people may live in peace. Then He follows that up by stating very clearly that there is only one who is Lord of heaven and earth, whose power overshadows those of earthly leaders. That one is Jesus Christ.

In the Gospel, Jesus addresses clearly that the greatest false god that humans worship is wealth/greed. Jesus challenges his followers that they must make a clear choice as to whom they will serve. Will they serve God, or will they serve wealth/greed? They cannot serve both.

Every time we turn on the news, we are presented with those who serve God and those who serve wealth and greed. Both God and wealth/greed are served equally by those appointed and elected in our government. We see the horrendous impact of wealth and greed in the policies of our government. The denial of climate change, the systemic deregulation of that which protects our environment, benefits economically the interests of the petroleum, natural gas, and coal industries. The deregulation of our financial institutions benefit only the wealthy and greedy and cheat and bankrupt all others. The defunding of the safety nets that protect the poor, the elderly, and the unemployed of our nation, for example, the defunding of food stamps, programs like Head Start, unemployment, the assault on the Affordable Healthcare Act, Medicare, Medicaid, on Social Security, benefit the big pharmaceutical and insurance companies. This is just a sampling of the choice of wealth/greed being served in our government.

If we begin to examine the policies of many of the conglomerates of our nation and the world, wealth/greed is overwhelmingly the god that is most greatly served. God’s words we hear in the first reading from the prophet Amos are very pointed. “Never will I forget a thing they have done!”

It is easy to blame all the woes of our world on the wealthy and greedy that serve in world governments and world conglomerates and industries. However, to quote the great philosopher, Pogo, “We have met the enemy and he is us!” It is necessary to examine how we might be as guilty as the wealthy and greedy, albeit in lesser ways, of the same idolatry.

On a personal level, it boils down to whether we adopt a lifestyle that models that of Jesus, who came to serve God and those most in need, or whether we adopt a model of life that serves our own self-interests only. Are our lives governed by the Great Commandment of Jesus to love God with all our minds, strength, and hearts? Or are our lives governed by Original Sin, best described by Norm Peterson from the television comedy, Cheers, as, “It’s a dog eat dog world and I’m wearing Milk Bone underwear.”?

We have to reflect on that which motivates us to do the things we do. Do we hoard what we have, or are we willing to share from our abundance with those who are in need? Do we hoard use the gifts that God has given us to benefit only ourselves? Or, do we use our God given gifts to benefit others? Is everything in our lives defined by the question of “What’s in it for me?” Or, our lives defined by the question, “What’s best for all concerned?” These questions begin to define whether we live idolatrous lives worshipping wealth/greed, or whether we worship the one, true God.

In my ministry to the Latino community, I remember one family who was experiencing some car trouble. I asked my friend whether he needed some assistance. He said no. There was a Latino mechanic that lived in the same building who fixed the car. When I asked my friend how much it cost, he told me that the mechanic fixed it for nothing. Then, taking down a framed picture from the wall, my friend took $40 that was taped to the back of the picture and said, “You can’t eat nothing.” And, then gave the money to the mechanic. This is how we live lives that worship God.

In whom do we trust? God or money? We can’t do both.