June 26, 2020

Dear St. Theresa family,

As someone on TV said: “We may be done with covid but covid is not done with us.”  Regrettable but true. With the dramatic multiplication of cases, we are all being called to greater diligence.  The Fourth of July is coming up and lots of folks have traditions and get togethers that are being reconsidered.  Common sense tells us to think about how we will celebrate.
 
It seems that good common sense is not as common as it should be.  As evidenced in the media there has been and continues to be a great deal of throwing caution to the wind. It seems clear that this resurgence is the price paid.  While I have said in the past “this, too will pass”…I didn’t say when.  It is unhelpful to point fingers at questionable leadership.  Virtually everyone is making this up as they go along.  We have what we have and leaving politics to the politicians, it is up to us to do our best to stay well and help others do the same.
 
Masses will continue at the parish, but we encourage everyone to wear masks for the benefit of all.  We ask that  everyone follow the protocol for seating and receiving communion.  Everyone should come forward for communion or a blessing to avoid having people pass in front of you in the pew.  Please observe distancing in the communion lines as well as when entering and exiting, your neighbor will thank you. If there is a change in the Mass schedule, we will give everyone ample notice. Thank you for your cooperation in this peculiar time. 
 
We will continue to livestream the Mass on Saturday night and have it available on the website for Sunday.  Don’t forget we have a farewell reception for Fr. Hai in the courtyard following the 10:00 Mass.
 
This Sunday we hear Matthew 10:34-42.  Go get your bible and sit down with this so that when you hear it again on Sunday it has a familiar ring. It’s the passage where Jesus talks about how he came not to bring peace but rather a sword and then ends the passage blessing those who give little ones a cup of cold water.
 
In this bit of Matthew Jesus is asking that the quality of our love for him be at very least of the same depth and intensity as the quality of our love and commitment to those dearest to us.  We will make sacrifices for them.  Will we make sacrifices for him?  We will give time to them.  Will we give time to him?  We will give our utmost to strengthening a nourishing relationship with them.  Will we do at least the same for our relationship with him?  Just as we are the only ones who can make these decisions about our human relationship, so only we can decide about the quality of our relationship with Jesus.

There is so much profound content in this passage we can only touch some of it.  As the core is the paradox at the heart of life.  The more we try to possess life for self-centered ends, the more we lose its essential meaning and joy.  The more we give ourselves to God, the more real we will find ourselves to be.  Right at the end, Jesus implies that the ultimate measuring rod for our love is our actions.  Loving him is not a sentimental concept.  Love is obedience to him.  Love is a deed done for another.

Be a blessing and stay well!

Fr. Larry
 

June 22, 2020

Dear St. Theresa family,
 
When is “one Our Father and three Hail Mary’s not enough?
I just finished another “Covid” book.  One of many books I have intended to read or re-read for some time.  This one was “Whatever Became of Sin” by Karl Menninger a popular twentieth century psychiatrist who warns that should the concept of sin become eliminated from cultural discourse any hope of a moral society would be imperiled.   While odd that such a work would come from the medical community rather the religious it is not surprising given the loss of awareness of human wrongdoing and not hearing much on the topic from the pulpit.  For Dr. Menninger one of the most psychologically healthy things a person can do is acknowledge sin and confess it.  There is darkness out there as we have seen in the media.  It isn’t the darkness of overt brutality, adulterous affairs, and greed.  The real darkness, out of which all darkness flows, isn’t found on the outside, but within.  And there is a name for it…sin.
 
We don’t like to talk about sin and salvation much in our culture.  Sin is seen as an embarrassment and something that makes us feel guilty and unworthy. Talk of salvation challenges our need to be autonomous and self-reliant.  If a priest talks about sin and sinful behavior it causes as lot of shifting around in seats, furtive glances and for some a sense of being singled out.  Many have left the Church because they are attracted to  a happier, more uplifting way to be spiritual, usually with a cup of coffee and the cross-word puzzle.  At the end of the day, though, what is at the heart of all our desperate struggling is sin.  At a basic level, we are broken people, incapable of making ultimate meaning or sense of our lives.  Until we come to terms with this truth, we will always be desperate.  Christians know that honestly owning up to the truth about our broken lives is not an act of cowardice but a sign of bravery.
 
There is an answer.  It comes to us through the grace of God, in the person of Jesus Christ.  He came to release the captives from the bondage of sin.  He understands the restless hearts, the denial of sacred identity and failed relationships.  He is the one who comes to rescue us and once we encounter the love of Christ given in the sacrament of penance, nothing is the same.  Wherever there is honest confession there is true forgiveness.  Whenever there is a cry of the heart, Christ answers in compassion.  Whenever someone is lost, Jesus the Good Shepherd goes out searching until the lost is found.  Whenever someone is in peril, Jesus comes to save. Suddenly we have inner resources we never imagined, possibilities we never dreamed of.  The struggles of daily life…for control, for meaning, for peace, for love…are gathered up into the love and acceptance of God.  No longer plagued by questions, we have the only answer we will ever need.  We are children of the living God, who loves us and calls us into the world not to be tangled up in the webs of our own weaving, but to be like Christ, and bring the light into a world of darkness. Read the prologue to the Gospel of John.  Verse 5 is the best of all: “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it.”   
 
Truthfully, it is not so much a sense of sin that has gone missing but rather a sense of contrition and penance.  We are seeing some of that going on around us now as a result of the global response to racial inequities.  A society that hopes to flourish is one that faces its sin, confesses it, and then makes amends, or penance as the church calls it.  If, however, a society is to embrace this it will only be because the people who make up society have embraced it as individuals.  It is one thing to recognize sin and regret it and something else to repair the damage.  It must begin with “Forgive me Father.”
 
Have a blessed week,
 
Fr. Larry
 

June 12
Celebrating the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ

Dear St. Theresa family,
This Sunday we celebrate the feast commemorating the Body and Blood of or Lord, once known as Corpus Christi Day.  Yet another Holy Day in the United States suffering indifference moved from Thursday, its traditional day of observance to Sunday. 

Not so in Europe.  In Cologne, Germany on Corpus Christi Day, parishioners, sodalities and various groups with banners join clergy and servers from all over the diocese who then join throngs gathering in the city square to begin a great celebration of the Blessed Sacrament through the city.  This is a real holiday as everything is closed in anticipation of the thousands who will line the streets to pay homage to the presence of Our Savior who blesses the city. 



The day begins with Mass outside of the cathedral followed by the procession through the streets stopping at various altars for the singing of litanies and adoration.  Returning to the cathedral this tremendous civic devotion culminates in solemn Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament.  A scene repeated all over Catholic Europe and other countries.  It is regrettable that most of our children will never witness such a demonstration of faith and devotion.  I think this alone is worth a trip to Europe at this time of year!

We are experiencing an increase of devotion to our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament.  Tabernacles once exiled to out of the way places and little rooms are being returned to a place that signifies the centrality of this sacrament in our faith.  Much more is required.  An increase in such devotion along with sound teaching is needed if we are to reverse what is indicated in the latest Pew research which tells us that 69% of self-identifying Catholics do not believe in the real presence of Jesus in the Eucharist. 

Diminished devotion to this sacrament is nothing new.  In the mid to late 19^th century devotion to Christ had waned and many saw the need for action.  Dismayed by the lack of participation or understanding of the Eucharist, a French laywoman named Emilie-Marie Tamisier who thinking “enough is enough” relentlessly lobbied the hierarchy to address the need.  The resulting first Eucharistic Congress was with great success held in Lille, France.  But it was not until when Bishop Dubuis of the Diocese of Galveston approach the Holy Father about the significance of such events that the tradition of Eucharistic congresses began.  These annual conventions which included Mass, devotions, preaching, and lectures began to have the desired effect of drawing people back to the truths of the Catholic Faith.

When the first one was held in the United States, anti-Catholicism was at its peak, which makes the statistics of this Congress held in Chicago on June 20, 1926 surprising even by 21^st century standards. At one Mass celebrated at Soldier field the attendance was estimated at over 400,000.  The choir of school children numbered 60,000.  The overall attendance at the week-long congress numbered some 837,400.  The logistics of the event make interesting reading.  That was 94 years ago. Last year’s Congress drew about 100,000.  I’m not great at math but I know that given the Catholic population now versus 1926, this is not an impressive turnout.  



There is no easy answer to the troubling reality of this crises of unbelief.  If it were as simple as maintaining and observing original holy days with great public liturgical spectacles, then Europe would be a stronghold of faithful Catholic  observance.  Not so.  Perhaps we need someone to say: “enough is enough” and prompt a resurgence of Eucharistic piety.  Or we could step up our own devotion and carefully teach our children about the true presence of our Lord in the tabernacle. 
 
Does anyone remember the days when we stayed after Mass for prayers of thanksgiving? Does anyone remember when we were reverent and kept silence in the presence of Our Lord?  Little things that can clue a new generation into the idea that the Catholic Church is not just any church.
 
Stay well,
 
Fr. Larry
 

June 8, 2020
Seeds of Vocation

Dear St. Theresa family,

As I have been kindly reminded by several, it was 35 years ago today that I said “yes”, and Bishop Harris ordained me and four other men to the presbyterate at St. Louis Church.  I remember much about the day but most particularly my family.  Seated on the front row were my parents whose love and support for my vocation was amazing.  At several intervals during the very long ceremony I caught glances of them at times beaming and at times wiping a tear. 
 
In retrospect I have thought about what brought them to that happy day in their life together. They were each brought up in observant Christian homes.  My Mother Catholic and my father Presbyterian.  They brought together the best of their upbringing; my mother’s experience of a loving mother and good Catholic schools and my dad’s faith transferred to him by his father who was a Teaching Elder.  After 15 years of marriage, my dad, instructed by Fr. Charles Elmer, converted to the Catholic faith. By the time I hit the scene, ours was a committed and involved Catholic home.  There in the family, that’s where my vocation started.  I remember our parish as an extension of our home.  The priest’s arrival in our house and sharing meals was always an occasion of happiness.
 
We were definitely “every Sunday Catholics” never missing holy days and always “doing something” around the parish.  Church seemed to be very important, even vital to my parents. Sleeping in on Sunday was not an option.  That was not, however a problem for me.  I didn’t mind going to church as our parish was anything but dull.  My mother’s preference was the High Mass which made quite an impact on me as the great drama of the Mass unfolded before us. 
 
Looking back over the years I can see I was right to be deeply impressed, for High Mass at St. Joseph’s Bryan was indeed a very solemn spectacle and performed with great reverence.  The choir loft was full, and dear old Gussie Shultz, who used to accompany silent films in the 20’s at the Queen theater downtown, rattled the windows at the organ.  There wasn’t much congregational participation in those days, but we all went down like a field of corn before the wind at the ‘Incarnatus’ in the Creed.  At the consecration there was a thrilling silence only broken by the tinkling of the bell when the Host was elevated.  The silence was the more impressive after the ear-splitting volumes of sound during the singing of the Sanctus (Holy, Holy.)
 
There was a wonderful feeling of holiness and worship which, young as I was, conveyed itself to me.  Never from that moment was there any difficulty about getting me to go to church and I loved every moment of it.  One weekend we had to travel, and very early on Sunday I was unceremoniously evicted from my bed to attend the 7:30 a.m. at a neighboring parish.  This unwelcome and irritating change was only matched by my disappointment in the no-frills Low Mass.  The choir loft was empty, and Mrs. Schultz was nowhere to be seen.  There were no clouds of incense and it seemed that many people came late and left early.  That we did not follow the example set by them was the final blow in this parade of disappointments.
 
Later I discovered that not all parishes were like St. Joseph’s.  Much of what happened to the Catholic church after the initial wave of Vatican Two was bewildering and (to me at least) uninspiring.  But thanks to the seeds sown and the careful cultivation I received from my parents I weathered that tempest.  I have many other memories of my upbringing as a Catholic, but none so strong as being together as family at Mass. I am spiritually indebted to my parents for putting God first.  They were the ones who made sure the soil was well cultivated for the seed of vocation to take root.  Now, 35 years later I celebrate two wonderful and dedicated disciples of Christ who never had trouble saying “no” to me but always, always said “yes” to God.
 
A word to all of the St. Theresa family who faithfully live and witness the love of Christ among us: thank you for daily making me glad that I said “yes.” Please pray for vocations.
 
Yours in Christ,
Fr. Larry
 

June 5, 2020
On Marriage

Dear St. Theresa family,
June is here and typically it is the month of weddings.  Looking at the calendar I see no weddings over which to preside.  There may be people getting married, but not here.  A trend today is destination weddings.  Another trend is no wedding at all. The idea that marriage is “just a piece of paper” reveals an attitude toward the institution born of disillusionment.  

Traditional marriage has been under fire from outside forces for a long time. Living together is now a norm and no longer enjoys the benefit of societal disapproval.  Research has shown that couples who live together and later decide to marry are fifty percent more likely to divorce and more frequently entertain the idea. 

Thirty-five years of working with marriages has taught me a few things related to that.  Many couples who elect to live together prior to marriage are doing so to discover if they are compatible.  This used to be accomplished with courtship.  The reality, however, is no different than that of a “test drive.”  Leaving religion and the Christian theology of marriage out of the picture and pretending sin no longer exists or applies to enlightened people with no investment in a life of faith, it seems the purpose of living together is to avoid encumbrance in case either party wants to bail out.  Other than who gets the dog there are few complications.

This is fine when each party knows and agrees ahead of time that they are being taken for a ride.  Should they decide to marry later, that mentality that made living together an attractive alternative remains intact.  The bond and covenant notwithstanding, couples avoid the hard work of “making” a marriage work and therefore leave, most often for reasons that could have been discovered during a courtship and resolved during marriage preparation. The other reason, and perhaps the one that has even greater significance, is the fact that nothing changes between living together and getting married.  What do I mean? Marriage is a momentous event in life.  What was, is no more and what will be is something completely new.  In between is the wedding itself where there were two, who by virtue of a covenant become one. 

In Mark 10:8 it says: “and the two shall become one flesh.”   They began a relationship with an exit plan and in their minds are still only two people. The day before the wedding looks and feels like the day after.  Nothing has really changed. The attitudes which led them to live together stay locked in place.  So, when the going gets rough, and the going always gets rough, they revert to the plan when they first decided to live together.  In truth living together accomplishes the opposite of what is hoped for and this is statistically proven.

Every couple faces trials in the course of a marriage.  Many marriages begin to fail when communication fails.  The causes of most fights are mundane, but these small things can turn into major issues. There are even moments when you wonder if you married the right person.   If prayer has no place in the marriage, it misses the grace and power of a marriage that includes Christ as the third partner. His love is what helps a marriage endure the bumps and offers trust that things will get better.

Getting married is easy.  Staying married is hard work.  The secret is putting God first…after all he is a jealous God! (Exodus 20:5)

Grace and peace,

Fr. Larry
 

May 29, 2020
Pentecost

Dear St. Theresa family, 
(a quick Friday Bible Study in preparation for Pentecost)
 
This Sunday is Pentecost and the birthday of the Church, when hear about strong winds, tongues of fire and people speaking different languages.  Great images pointing to the power Christians will rely on as they get about the business of spreading the good news.  Unlike Easter with weeks of bible texts to draw on Pentecost gives us only one day.  Like Easter there is so much the New Testament says about the Spirit but only one day to say it.  One of these we don’t get is John 7:37-39.  Go read that.
 
C. S. Lewis said that we cannot try to understand everything Jesus says in a literal way.  For instance, he once pointed out that when Jesus said we were to be like doves he did not intend us to lay eggs.  That’s an obvious example of the kind of thing we deal with in the passage. Jesus has a big task.  He is telling us of the ways of God, describing for us the kingdom of God.  He is also describing how God deals with us, how the Holy Spirit communicates with our human spirits.  We are the creation of God, but our spirits can wander far away from the Holy Spirit.  It is this sense of separation which Jesus set out to fix.  To do so he speaks in a way which was rich and powerful for his culture using words such as “like,” to compare things and he always uses direct and simple images for daily life.
 
One day, while speaking near the temple, he said, “If anyone thirsts let him come to me and drink.”  For a Christian this is not merely a long-ago statement to a long-ago group; Jesus is saying this to us now, what does he mean?
 
In every human spirit there is a thirst for something…relationships, meaning, love.  Whether we know it or not our deepest thirst is for God.  He is saying that a relationship with him as Lord can help us find those other things.  Jesus does not offer us a relationship with himself which is of itself, in some magically religious way, produces what we thirst for.  Instead we come to realize that a relationship with Jesus helps us to approach the world and everyday life in such a way that we become capable of finding relationships, love, joy, and meaning in the things we experience and the people we encounter.
 
Notice what he says immediately afterward.  He points out in vs. 38 that anyone who does drink in his spirit must not do so only to satisfy his or her own longings (read thirst).  A relationship with Jesus is not for the sole purpose of what it gives us.  We go after these things of our Lord so that we in turn can be grace to others.
 
Having gone to the spiritual well which Jesus can be for us, we are then to be a source of nourishment for those with whom we come in contact. 
 
If you are coming to Mass this weekend wear something red!
 
Grace and peace,
 
Fr. Larry
 

May 27, 2020
Should You Return?

Dear St. Theresa family,
 
With church back open people have queried me about coming back to worship.  When asked if they should, I in turn asked: “Do you want to?”  “No…yes… oh I just don’t know” they replied.  “Stay home” I said and added: “Follow your conscience. The time is coming when you will know to come back to worship.” The change that came over her face was like one of those before and after pictures you see of people who used whatever product is guaranteed to make you look twenty years younger.
 
This uncertainty shouldn’t be surprising.  What we hear is that the number of cases is down…no, it’s up…and there may be a second wave and yet people are encouraged to get out of the house.  Things are opening up here and there while voices of authority say it’s too soon.  In an atmosphere charged with conflicting information and the anxiety it produces, it is no surprise that folks are feeling pulled in two directions. 
 
Our Bishop has not rescinded his dispensation, therefore anyone 65 and over or people with health concerns or immune deficiency and anyone who cares for someone who is vulnerable is encouraged to remain home and worship online.  For all who feel they can return to worship, we are striving to create a welcoming atmosphere following recommended guidelines for seating, communion practices, and cleaning the building and will continue doing so. 
 
Here’s a big shout out and thank you to parish volunteers who help make all this possible.  They arrive early and stay late ensuring the best experience possible.  Thanks to all our parishioners who have shown remarkable patience.  Being told where to sit and when to leave is annoying, but also know it’s not forever.
 
The teachers have been here today sorting and organizing and getting the school ready for when they return in August.  They deserve accolades for the extraordinary way in which they quickly switched gears and brought our motto of “Excellence in Education” to an online format.  Kudos to parents who sacrificed to make things happen at home. 
 
Congratulations to our 8^th grade students who look forward to what’s next and thanks to all our students for daily cooperation and everyone else for rolling with the punches. 
 
Our Interim Principal Rachel Eckert has been the primary architect of this experience and will be leaving us next month and so we send her off with a debt of gratitude for the many ways she has made all the difference.  In June we will welcome our new head of school Brian Wheeler and his family to St. Theresa.
 
God’s still in charge and things are getting better!  Now go wash your hands.
 
Grace and peace,
Fr. Larry
 

May 26, 2020
On Friendship

Dear St. Theresa family,
 
Memorial Day is in our rear view mirror and hopefully it was a good time of family, friends and remembrance.  On the subject of friends, the isolation we have experienced over the past few months has been trying on friendships.  We have taken advantage of social media and zoom to stay connected and that has been a help talking with friends from all over knowing the experience and situation is the same almost everywhere.  We don’t often consider how important our friends are.  I have heard comments like: “I’d be lost without my friends” and “My friends keep me sane” among others.   Friends are an essential part of life.  They keep us connected, hold us accountable, offer encouragement and overlook our annoying foibles.
 
I met up recently with Mark my best friend growing up.  He’s a physician so I pumped him for his opinions about our current pandemic and then we talked about his kids and grandkids and people we knew.  One of the ways friends keep us connected is by tying us to the past.  We have known each other since grade school and even though we rarely see or talk to one another it was interesting how quickly we reverted to the incomplete sentences and short-hand way of speaking we used during our high school years.  Even as our lives have taken us in different directions, we revel in this relationship.  Our shared history grounds me and gives me a sense of where I’ve come from.
 
Friends also connect us to the present and they help us deal with reality.  Ready to banish your children to the garage with out a cellphone or video games? Call a friend,  Think your spouse is having an affair? Time for coffee.  Depressed that you cannot fit into the clothes you wore before the pandemic? Talk to someone who’s been there, worn that.  Friends give us perspective when we have been too close to a situation… “You want me to hold him while you hit him?”  When colleagues and acquaintances can seem unsympathetic or dismissive, friends come to the rescue and no one else can celebrate your triumphs like your friends because they know exactly what it took for you to succeed.
The bible has some things to share about the values of friendships.  Read Ruth chapter 1:16-17.  The story of Ruth and Naomi after the death of her husband and sons is touching and tells us of the holy possibilities in friendship.  It tells us of the healing that can happen in the midst of tragedy. 
 
As he goes to the cross, Jesus gives his disciples a new identity.  “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.  No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”  A friend is someone like Jesus who can wholeheartedly revel in the success of another, someone who wants to see us grow.  In this way friendship is the smallest unit of Christian community and identity, the place where grace hits the ground.
 
Be well and blessed,
 
Fr. Larry
 

May 22, 2020
A Gospel Reflection

Dear St. Theresa family,

This is the season of graduations. The plague has changed the way we had hoped to mark them but that does not prevent them from happening.  Many inventive endeavors to celebrate our graduates will be remembered for a lifetime. I send best wished and prayers for happiness to everyone for whom endings will turn out to be beginnings.

Grab your bible and read Luke 24:46-53.

This moment when Jesus is visibly and physically present with his disciples for the last time is such a moment of ending and beginning. They have gone through much together. The relationship, as with all worthwhile relationships, has been severely tested. Jesus has known these people at their best and their worst. But despite everything, there is still the deep bond between the disciples and their Lord.

There comes a time in every human relationship when things must change. One of these times is when a group of people who have followed a revered and gifted leader must themselves accept responsibility for the future. The moment can be full of emotion, fear, gratitude, sometimes even anger. Why cannot things go on as they have been? 

Jesus is sensitive to these feelings. First, he tells his disciples that there is a purpose in all the events which have led up to this moment. Then, he says that this must now be communicated to others because it has a message for the whole human situation, and that they who have been with him through it all have the task. They must have been appalled at the responsibilities involved. Realizing this, Jesus adds one more thing. He promises to give them the grace to do what he has commanded them to do.

All Christians have to come to such a time within themselves. We all have a relationship with Christ by baptism, by worship, by some knowledge of the Gospel. Perhaps we need now to take full responsibility for that faith.  What might that mean?  Well, on that hill at Bethany Jesus spoke of the purpose of it all, the need to communicate it, the fact that only they could do it, and the promise that he would help them.  

Perhaps we need to put ourselves into the listening crowd. We might find ourselves asking what the purpose of being Christian is, of worshiping, of trying to pray, of trying to live out faith.  Jesus replies that his birth, life, death, and resurrection are the secret meaning of all human experience. Dying and rising again is what it is all about. That needs to be communicated and we who have been told that great secret need to live it out in our lives.  

A difficult assignment?  Very. But Jesus knows that; he lived it out totally. So he makes a promise guaranteeing to us that if we are prepared to try to embody his experience in ours then he will help. 

Notice that they came down the hill “with great joy.”  So, there it is. Great endings can be, and most often are, great beginnings.

Some Good News for today.

Fr. Larry

May 19, 2020
For Parents

Dear St. Theresa family,

I have been thinking about the two understandings of time we all live with.  They are called “chronos” a Greek word meaning sequential time…yesterday, today, five minutes from now, etc., and “kairos” a Greek word meaning  quality moments, experiences, a response to the present and so on.   It is two ways of looking at time.  The reason I bring this up is the result of hearing experiences of parenting during this unusual shift in our routines and plans.

There is much anxiety about “loosing time” and “making up for lost time” and of course “wasting time.”  Understandable. The frustration of going through all this without a playbook is unnerving at best.  What is my child really learning from home?  What does school look like in fall?  Will the colleges open?  What kind of experience will it be?  What does this mean for their future?  At the same time, I hear many good stories, stories of first times.  The first time we ever did this or that or did it together as family.  Lots of experiences born of necessity or creativity.  Life lived moment to moment. 

In Christian terms this is kairos…you could call it the ripe moment.  It is about the fulness of time, the coming together of all things, and ultimately, even the coming of the Lord.  Momentous time in the truest sense.

In the real world, parenting isn’t about Kairos, but chronos.  It’s getting dinner on the table, showing up for the game, driving them to practice, checking homework, setting boundaries.  Reading “Green Eggs and Ham” for umpteenth time. It’s remembering to put peanut butter on both pieces of bread, so the jelly doesn’t leak. Watching “Frozen”…again.  It’s never saying “I told you so” when that career as a rock musician didn’t pan out.  It’s loving children enough day by day, to let them become who God means them to be rather than some extension of your own fragile ego. 

Parenting is all about chronos, and there are times when you get so tired of the day-to-day work and worry of it all that you wonder if it makes any difference at all. But there’s one more miraculous thing about being a parent.  When it comes to parenting, the chronos is the kairos.  All those sandwiches and late nights, learning the faith, all those projects and ball games add up so that children can move into the world as whole people who know they are loved. 

The big moment in parenting is just the sum of all the little moments over the course of a lifetime.  As a friend of mine once said: “With parenting the days are long, but the years are short.”

Yes, these are and will be difficult times, but they are far from unblessed.
 
Grace and peace,

Fr. Larry
 

May 15, 2020
This Sunday's Gospel

For a Christian the spirit of our Lord is already within.
We have only to realize this and draw upon it.
 
Dear St. Theresa family,

Go get your bible and read John chapter 14: 15-21.

Jesus says simply that if we love him, we will keep his commands.  We are going to hear that again and again as we read our New Testament.  In both the Gospels and the letters, love is never sentimentalized.   The Bible always demands that love be made real in action and that this pattern of action be in obedience to God’s will.  In that sense Christian love is first and foremost obedience.  It is never merely a warm feeling. 

Jesus continues by saying, “The spirit of truth…dwells with you, and will be in you.”  We say we believe this but if we really examine our spiritual assumptions, we discover that we believe something rather different.  We tend to think of the Holy Spirit as something outside, beyond, above us, something which, if we are spiritually minded, we search for and pursue, something which we capture for a time and lose again.
 
But Jesus says categorically that his Holy Spirit dwells with us and will be in us.  We already are the dwelling place of the Holy Spirit.  To use another image of the New Testament, we could say that the light of God already burns within us.  All of this is very different from the assumption of many people, that the Holy Spirit may well be in certain great spiritual giants of the Christian community, but not in us ordinary Christians.  We think that we have to settle for an occasional flare-up, a rare encounter of the Holy Spirit.  Not so.  This passage gives us the assurance of Jesus that however careless or halfhearted or ordinary a Christian may be, he is present in their lives, not because our being is worthy of his entry but because he wishes to be there. 
 
In the 23^rd verse Jesus uses the imagery of homecoming.  If we make a conscious effort to place our will under the direction of Jesus’ will, asking what his will may be in any given situation, then asking for his grace to do it, we will find that He becomes the familiar companion of our lives.  He makes his home with us.
 
One more thing before leaving this passage.  Jesus says to us, “Because I live, you will live also.”  The simple yet tremendous truth is that people who have committed their lives to be servants of Jesus in the world of their time live with a greater sense of meaning, a sense of being truly and fully alive.  Try doing it.
 
Good news for all of us.
 
Fr. Larry
 

May 9, 2020
Public Mass Returns

Dear St. Theresa family,
 
Public Mass will be celebrated this weekend at 5 p.m. Saturday and 7:30 and 10:00 a.m. Sunday. We have modified the Sunday mass schedule due to availability of volunteer ministers.  Our hospitality ministers will be able to answer questions and give directions to accommodate our temporary seating plan.  By following the given guidelines, we are only able to accommodate about 120 people. 
 
We will enter the sanctuary from the narthex through the side entrances avoiding the use of the central doors of the narthex.  You will note on entering the main worship space that every other pew has been blocked and blue tape is placed at the appropriate intervals to show where you can sit.  When entering a pew please go all the way to the end so that the next person will not need to walk past you to find a seat.  Please sit at a space marked with blue tape on the back. Households may sit together.  Individuals in pews with families should space themselves accordingly. 
 
Once the building capacity has been reached the hospitality will shut the exterior doors with a sign stating that the church is full. The hospitality volunteers will direct those who cannot be admitted, to go to the family center which can accommodate about 50 people.  Currently we are only able to livestream to the family center at the 10:00 Sunday Mass.  Holy Communion will be brought to the Family Center.
 
Please remember that what we can offer is limited by the number of volunteers available.  I regret that we cannot offer the Family Center at the other times, and I apologize in advance for anyone who is inconvenienced.  We will be recruiting and training volunteers.  We will all do our best to comply with directives.  I am also asking for consideration for the volunteers.  Please help them by showing charity and kindness as these are the hallmarks of Christian behavior!  
 
In order to maintain distancing, Holy Communion will be distributed in the sanctuary. The two side sections will commune first and then the center section.  Please observe the blue tape marks on the floor for distancing.  The hospitality ministers will serve as ushers to provide direction.  The tithes and offerings will be brought forward during the communion procession where you will see white boxes. Please use these for your offering.  A basket will be provided in the Family Center for the 10AM overflow.
 
At the end of Mass each row will be dismissed by the hospitality minister beginning with the back row to facilitate leaving the building with appropriate distancing through the middle doors and straight out of the building.  This will be expedited efficiently and without undue delay.   If you are among those who have the poor habit of taking communion and leaving before the final prayer and blessing, we ask that you not do this as it will greatly inconvenience those who are doing their best to assure the safety of others. If you feel put out by this consider it a sacrifice and as my mother would say, “offer it up!”  Speaking of leaving the building please do so without delay or stopping for conversation.  Go outside and visit.  We need to vacate the building as quickly as possible for the volunteers to get it ready for the next Mass.
 
I know this is a lot to remember and not our optimal experience.  We will try to help as much as possible to make our time together a good spiritual encounter.  Remember that it is acceptable to remain at home and worship with the livestreamed mass on the website. 
 
Thank you for your patience and God bless,
Fr. Larry

May 8, 2020
Mothers'Day Message

Dear St. Theresa Family,
 
Greetings at the end of another plague ridden week.  Mother’s Day is this Sunday and I am grateful for something to celebrate.  I am sure that many creative plans are in place to honor all our moms. For us, it is opportunity to remember the person who knew us before anyone else on earth.  Even if your mom is no longer living, she is still present in innumerable ways.  No matter how old we get, in one way or another we will always have our mothers.  
 
It is also the month we honor Our Blessed Mother. A cute story used to circulate about an Italian peasant woman, touchingly simple in her piety.  It seems that a clever Communist had proved to her, by all manner of rigorous argument that there cannot possibly be a God.  “All right,” she responded.  “There is no God.  But we always have the mother of God!”
 
Indeed, we do.  But devotion to Mary isn’t as vigorous as it was a generation or so ago.  We once had the idea that Jesus was just too important and majestic to bother with our puny needs and prayers so we turned to Mary the  Blessed Mother who was always ready to bring any need we had before a Son who could refuse his mother nothing.  Her intercession is powerful. 
 
The most important thing about her, however, was not her mothering of Jesus Christ in the flesh.  That is not her chief claim to fame.  Not in God’s eyes.  More important than sheer motherhood was what St. Augustine realized when he wrote: “Mary was more blessed because she laid hold of faith in Christ than she conceived the flesh of Christ…Her motherly relationship to him would have been no use to Mary, had she not carried Christ in her heart more happily even than she bore him in her body.”  She “conceived Christ in her mind before she conceived him in her womb.  It was by faith she gave him birth; it was by faith she conceived him.” (On Holy Virginity 3 Sermon 215)  She even made Jesus do things he didn’t want to do (read the account of the miracle at Cana of Galilee.)
 
That’s why the Second Vatican Council called the mother of Jesus “the Church’s outstanding model in faith and love.”  She lived what Jesus extolled in Luke 11:28:  “Blessed are those who hear the word of God and keep it.”  Mothers who have embraced their faith know this and in doing so are with their husbands the best teachers of their children in the ways of faith.  Mary’s focus on Jesus’ ministry is the best example for mothers today.  If you are uncompromisingly faithful, then you are giving your children the best possible model. Every Mother’s Day I say a prayer of thanksgiving for my mom for the example she gave me.  Sure, I resented as a teenager being gotten out of bed on Sunday morning to go to Mass  just as I am sure I resented being forced to brush my teeth as a little child.  Now I am grateful that mom had the same regard for my soul as she did for my teeth.   My teeth I will leave in the grave… Just a thought.  
 
Happy Mother’s Day!
Fr. Larry

May 6, 2020

Dear St. Theresa family,

Go get your bible and turn to John 14:1-14 and read that passage.  Go ahead, I’ll wait.  

Did you get stuck where I did? I got stuck on “Let not your hearts be troubled.”  If you are anything like me, your heart has been troubled.  It is unsettling to be unsure, and this is a very unsure time. We are all deeply troubled about many things, about illness, ourselves, our futures, the children, our parents, the economy, school, our jobs.  The list is long.  So, with these words Jesus is touching the heart of our human situation.  In the face of this Jesus reminds us that our lives are not merely isolated and meaningless phenomena.  Our lives are the creation of God, and for the duration of our lives God offers himself as our lifelong companion.

“I go to prepare a place for you…”  This is where Jesus speaks of the destiny of our lives.   Life in this world is not all there is of life.  This may seem obvious for a clergyman to say to Christians, yet the sad fact is that many Christians are so affected by the circumstances we live in that they no longer see their lives as being lived out as part of a greater life.  We need to be reminded of this greater life by Jesus’ clear and most direct words in vs 2-3: “In my Father’s house there are many rooms, if it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And when I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and take you to myself so that where I am you also may be.  You know the way where I am going.” 

Then Thomas speaks for every one of us. “Lord we do not know where you are going, how can we know the way?” This sudden cry on his part is expressing something we all feel.  What is the purpose of human life and how do we live it?   For a Christian the response comes from Jesus as it did to Thomas.  The way we try to live our lives is our Lord’s way.  The truth we try to find is our Lord’s truth, and the meaning we attach to our life is the meaning Jesus attached to his.  For Jesus the truth about life is that it is a gift given by God.   The way to live it is to give it back to God in service day by day in all that we do.  For Jesus that was the way and the truth and the life.  So, also for us.

Philip asked Jesus to show him God.  That is what we all want, to know the essential meaning and source of life.  Jesus turns to Philip and tells him he has already seen what God looks like in himself.   Jesus is our window into the nature of God. Whenever we are conscious of the presence of our Lord, we are becoming aware of God’s working within us.  To know such things and to believe them, then to use them as the basis of our approach to life, is to have immense spiritual resources available. So…

“Let not your hearts be troubled”

Fr. Larry

May 5, 2020

Dear St. Theresa Family,
It seems like we are daily being given conflicting information. The nation is in an “open-it-up” mode while receiving alarming messages about increased cases, mounting death tolls and the need to exercise caution.  The tension between health concerns and economic stability is very high and is being expressed in public displays of dissent. 

In the middle of this uncertainty, the Bishops, responding to a daily and often less than charitable barrage of requests to offer public mass, have elected to reopen the churches.  I have heard many folks express concerns about this and confusion as to whether they are obliged to return to public worship.  Our Bishop has made it very clear that no one is under any obligation to return to the public celebration of Mass at this time.  His dispensation from the obligation stands until he decrees otherwise.  He also advises that anyone who is over 65, has any health concerns or immunity issues should not return at this time.  He also states that anyone who cares for someone at home who has health risks should also forgo attendance.  Finally, if anyone has a personal objection to returning at this time they are also encouraged to stay home and worship with the live-streamed option.

All this means a very busy week for us around here.  The deep cleaning of the building and plans for the continuance of such is in process now.  Removal of hymnals and signage giving directions began yesterday.  We have been given directives about how we can offer public worship with a limited seating capacity.  For us that means an approximate total of 120 people. On arriving you will see signs outlining our procedures.  The seats are marked with blue tape.  Families may sit together but individuals must move to the nearest blue tape spot to insure distancing.  We will leave every other row empty and this will be clearly marked. 

We are altering our communion practices to accommodate people coming forward single file maintaining distancing.  Directions for this will be given just prior to distribution.  Communion will be distributed from one side to the other limiting contact with others as communicants return to their seats.  At the end of mass, we will dismiss congregants by rows, and all are instructed to leave the building immediately.

The various ministers are being instructed on special procedures. Our ability to offer masses is directly related to the availability of hospitality ministers, eucharistic ministers, lectors, and other volunteers.  We have a handful of volunteers who are returning and with these we will be able to offer weekend masses at 5pm. Saturday, 7:30 and 10:00 Sunday morning.  Please note that while regrettable,  we must  cut off any further attendants when we have reached capacity.  As we are able, we will add more masses to the schedule.

Please note the directives at the entrances and printed on the worship aids.  Please be kind to and cooperative with the hospitality ministers who are parishioners generously returning to facilitate the needs of the congregation.  We will learn as we go along how to make this a safe and spiritual experience.  While none of this is ideal it is up to all of us to make the best of it, and I am counting on that!

Blessings to all,

Fr. Larry
 

May 1, 2020

Dear St. Theresa family,

I'm coming to you with news about the re-opening of public worship.  Bishop Vasquez has decreed that mass will be offered to the public (with limitations) beginning next Tuesday.  The weekend schedule is being determined and that information will be available before the middle of next week. 

When I say: “with limitations,” that concerns the number of people allowed in the building.  We are instructed to block-off every other pew.  This automatically decreases our seating by one half. Add to that the requirement that we space ourselves (families excluded) by six feet and our seating is significantly reduced.  We estimate room for about 130 people.  The Bishop encourages people to choose daily mass as an alternative.
 
Anyone who has any health concerns or who feels that they cannot return at this time are encouraged to stay home and join the mass online.  Certainly, no one should attend who feels in any way unwell.  The Bishop is continuing his dispensation from the obligation to attend Mass until further decree. 
 
While we are making every effort to provide Mass for the community in the church and the gym (if we can get enough volunteers) there is no way we can forecast the numbers who may attend. Regrettably the limitation of seating means that people may arrive and find the building(s) at capacity and be turned away.  We are begging people to be charitable and reasonable when this happens.
 
The Masses will not be the usual “St. Theresa experience” due to exigencies.  Certain procedures and protocol designed for the well-being of all, means that we cannot linger in the narthex to visit before or after worship.  We will continue to forgo the use of holy water, any holding of hands, and the sign of peace.  The hymnals will be removed, and we will rely on our worship aids which you will take home.  The offering will be placed in boxes during communion.  Communion will be offered in the hand or by mouth according to the dictates of Canon Law. Please be prepared to be flexible and I will bring you more information and specifics as I figure them out!
 
Pray for a smooth and joyful re-opening.

Grace and Peace,
Fr. Larry
 

April 27, 2020

Dear St. Theresa family,

It’s Monday after the third Sunday of Easter. It has been over a month since our last Mass in the church building.  I miss you!  I know people are very anxious to know when we will be allowed to return to Mass.  All I can offer is that when I hear something, I will let everyone know. 

For now, we will continue to offer as much as possible on-line.  Members of the staff are looking at ways of offering special programs for children during the summer.  Of course, the covid crises arrived with us unprepared for the scope and magnitude of the kind of online presence needed to sustain some semblance of ministry.  Getting the cameras and other essential equipment for up to date digital recording and broadcast in the sanctuary was made possible by a couple of parishioners who generously stepped forward with funds.  This allowed us to purchase not only the digital cameras for the church but also the necessary software and technology.  Chase Crouse, our youth minister, now has a podcast station which he is using to reach out to our young adults and youth. 

We have also had to make significant expenditures for bringing the school entirely on-line.  Here on the campus daily are Rachel Eckert our interim Principal and Deacon Peter Barger our Technical Director who shepherd the faculty who teach their classes from home. and do all that is necessary so that our students can have the best possible educational experience. 
Speaking of the school, our faculty are to be commended for their “can-do” attitude and spirit.  Their willingness to be creative, while maintaining the best educational standards that characterize our school, has caught the attention of the larger community as well as the public schools.  There has been no compromise in “excellence in education.”  Can more be done?  Certainly, but acknowledging our limitations, we do what we can while making plans. 

Again, I cannot say enough how proud we should be of our teachers and indeed everyone who has contributed to sustaining the parish and school in its mission.

Later this week I will have a better picture of our financial health and will give you a full report.  In the meantime, try to keep up best practices.  The day is coming when we will all say, “Remember when?”

Grace and peace,

Fr. Larry
 

April 24, 2020

A benefit of extra time is the opportunity to do things you always said you would do.  For me one of those goals was to get a better grip on what Paul has to say in his letters.  To that end I have been spending more time with the Apostle than I ever did in school. 

Beginning with 1^st Corinthians what started out as an academic pursuit, became a deeper journey into the inspired words of the bible and its amazing capacity to be fresh and relevant which is important because his letters to the Corinthians do not speak of doctrine like what we encounter in Romans and Galatians.  It is instead a glimpse into a difficult and divided time in the early Christian community and reveals his words of encouragement and hope. 

For example, in reading the tenth chapter of 1^st  Corinthians I encountered this:
I do not want you to be ignorant of the fact, brothers and sisters, that our ancestors were all under the cloud and that they all passed through the sea.  They were all baptized into Moses in the cloud and in the sea.  They all ate the same spiritual food  and drank the same spiritual drink; for they drank from the spiritual rock that accompanied them, and that rock was Christ.  Nevertheless, God was not pleased with most of them; their bodies were scattered in the wilderness.  Now these things occurred as examples to keep us from setting our hearts on evil things as they did.  Do not be idolaters, as some of them were; …We should not commit sexual immorality, as some of them did—and in one day twenty-three thousand of them died.  We should not test Christ, as some of them did—and were killed by snakes.  And do not complain, as some of them did—and were killed by the destroying angel… So, if you think you are standing firm, be careful that you don’t fall!  No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted,  he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it.

This is a word to any of us who must put up with more than we want and feel deprived of what we deserve.  While I suspect none of us are ever in the same boat as those poor souls he enumerated, it is nevertheless spiritually dangerous when anxiety leads to lax attitudes or worse entitlement.  I call it the “McDonalds” syndrome. Here I date myself, but some may remember an old commercial for this franchise that had this jingle: “You deserve a break today…”  To which I join Paul in saying no, you don’t. 
 
Remember that Christ Jesus is the spiritual rock that accompanies us.  As it was for the Israelites wandering in the desert, so it is for us today as we search for spiritual sustenance.  We rely on him in prayer for strength in times of temptation.  Perhaps we should consider how our intentions and actions have an effect in “eternity.”  How we influence family, friends, and others and how we pass on the good influence we receive from others.
 
Blessings and peace to all as we continue to be safe,
 
Fr. Larry
 

April 23, 2020

This Sunday we are going to hear again the familiar story of the encounter with Jesus on the road to Emmaus.  These two friends of Jesus are not on a casual journey.  They don’t know if they will ever have the desire to return to Jerusalem.  They have watched the promise of the future die on a cross, someone who meant a great deal to them, someone in whom they had invested all their hopes and dreams.  And now these hopes and dreams seem to have died as well.

Joined on the road by a stranger they continue walking with the stranger as he asks them what they are talking about.  The more the stranger talks the more the two begin to feel that have just met someone who can make sense of what has happened.  They invite him to remain with them for dinner.  During the meal the stranger breaks bread in front of them, and they quickly realize who is with them and just as quickly he disappears.
 
This passage from Luke chapter 23 is also about our own journey.  It may even be speaking to us at this moment during this difficult time when we, like those two, may be walking away from what is for us a dead Jesus, the sense that the presence of Christ has left us. 
If so we would be wise to have our eyes and ears open for the Stranger, because, somewhere and in someone, he is seeking us.  Even in a time when the Eucharist is a purely spiritual experience, the Body of Christ may be walking next to us in a human vessel made of clay.
 
If we listen to what the stranger says on the road, we may hear what Jesus wants to say to us today.  In the passage I call your attention to the line that reads: “ their eyes were kept from recognizing him.”  In this culture of ours we often have trouble recognizing Christ in the many forms in which he comes to us.  We have been conditioned to recognize him only in specific religious images.  Jesus can speak to us in any aspect of our daily experience.  Jesus is always in disguise.
 
Pay attention to the fact that Jesus did not at any time force himself upon them.  He waited for their invitation to have a meal.  We can be among those who invite the Lord into our lives… our lives…that means everything!  Opportunities abound.  Our parish give us multiple ways to connect even during this time apart.  He comes to us when we set aside a few minutes each day to be in his company, in silent reflection, and simple prayer.  And even though we cannot be present at Eucharist to receive him physically we can receive him in Spirit.  Our desire is all the open door he needs to walk right alongside of us in a time of uncertainty and disappointment.  He is waiting to help us make sense of everything.  He presence will be with us in a real sacramental way that will sustain us as we continue to walk forward in faith.
 
God’s blessings to all,
Fr. Larry
 

Palm Sunday 

the Passion of the Lord

 
I have been thinking about the passion of Christ in the context of everything that’s happening in the world around us. The passion centers on the suffering of Christ. There are all kinds of suffering now. Much of it is the suffering of anxiety. There is great concern over personal financial security, the uncertainty of our own health and the worries over family members who are cut off due to sheltering restrictions. Our culture was anxious enough without a global pandemic.
 
This has led to many exhibiting great stress.  Panic buying and the like. The most telling result has been the surprisingly sudden need for more toilet paper. So, suffering and its meaning, always an appropriate topic for holy week, seems to be even more pertinent as we walk our own journey to Jerusalem in this extraordinary time.
 
A couple of weeks ago I finished a novel written by Elie Wiesel, a Jewish writer and Holocaust survivor.  His novel, “The Gates of the Forest” is a collection of stories  concerning the human condition and in one story he has a character named Yehuda who is gently trying to help a troubled friend named Gregor see suffering in a different way. He writes:
It’s inhuman to wall yourself up in pain and memories as if in a prison. Suffering must open us to others.  It must not cause us to reject them.  The Talmud tells us that God suffers with man.  Why? In order to strengthen the bonds between creation  God chooses to suffer in order to better understand man and be better understood by him.  But you, you insist upon suffering alone.  Such suffering shrinks you, diminishes you.  Friend, that is almost cruel.
 
Having just heard St. Matthew’s Passion of Jesus, I want to consider this passage from Wiesel’s book from the insight of the Jewish Talmud. Let’s start with the idea that God suffers with humankind. Jesus ate and drank, spoke and slept, touched and healed, laughed and cried like us, and like us he died;  like us men and women, the God-man died. But it was the way he died that sets him apart. The prophet Isaiah makes that clear well in advance stating: “He was despised and rejected by men…like a lamb that is led to slaughter…By oppression and  judgment he was taken away; …he was cut off from the land of the living…”
 
On Calvary there is no need for exaggeration, the truth is staggering enough.  It was difficult to believe that this God-man could die. But there it is: “Jesus cried again with a loud voice and yielded up his spirit.”  So, yes, God suffers with human-kind. But why?
 
The Talmud, that central text of Rabbinic Judaism, says God suffers with humankind “to strengthen the bonds between the creation and the creator…to better understand us and be better understood by him.” As I think of Christ at Gethsemane, I try to Imagine myself standing beneath his cross on that Good Friday. Here is the same Son who, John’s gospel begins, “was the same in the beginning with God; all things were made through him, and without him was not anything made.” And now, in our flesh, the flesh he made, he sweats our blood and dies our death. It isn’t that he didn’t know what it was like to be human; but now this God of all knowledge experiences how we feel, hurts the way you and I hurt. Nails tear at his flesh and loneliness breaks his heart. On the cross he feels our pain as he never could “in the beginning with God.”
 
Now, on the other side of the coin, we have to admit that seeing Jesus, witnessing his life as we know it from the gospel, we understand God better than if he had never left heaven and taken on our flesh and joined us here in time and space, had never touched this earth with eyes and ears like ours, with hand and heart.  There is nothing that can compare with the experience of a God-man who lies helpless in a crib, and helpless on a cross, hear him cry out in anguish “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?” Calvary is not just another tragedy, the execution of one more innocent person.  The crucifixion of Christ is an act of love. It is this act of love that transforms suffering into sacrifice. The God-man not only suffered with us, he suffered for us. 
 
In Galatians 2 Paul says: “The life I now live in the flesh, I live by faith in the son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” It is not sheer crucifixion but crucified love that changed the world, changed you and me, and reconciled us to God an made it possible for us to be one with him through faith, with hope, in love.
 
This leads to my final point. “Suffering must open us to others.” Otherwise as Yehuda warned Gregor, suffering can only shrink us,  and diminish us. Being imprisoned by personal pain or suffering is something we all know about.
 
Death of a loved one. Depression and disappointment. Feelings of guilt or utter worthlessness.
Our current health crises and the uncertainty of the world ahead of us.  It can be acne or alcoholism or terminal cancer. Growing old in a world that does not seem to care.
 
There are a thousand and one afflictions we list under suffering that can wall us up in pain and
memories as if in a prison. Such turning in on myself may be understandable  and it may be
beyond my control; but it is always inhuman. It’s also unchristian because it keeps me from
living the life Christ intended  because I cannot with St. Paul “rejoice in my sufferings for your
sake, and in my flesh, I complete what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body,
that is, the church…” 
 
Any more than my love of God is a private affair, neither, then is my suffering.  As a Christian, as a member of the body of Christ, Christ’s own body, I cannot insist on suffering alone.  Suffering is my sharing in the passion of Christ; I suffer with him. United with his, my suffering, my personal passion can touch other people with redeeming grace, give them the courage of Christ and even the peace and joy of Christ. I suffer with them and they with me.
 
I look at the nurses and doctors in the news talking about the stress and fear that is their daily experience on the front lines of this plague.  I see in their eyes and hear in their voices the passion they feel and share with their patients as well as their frustration at a system unprepared for this crisis. Over and again I hear them say that they carry on because they are finding strength in uniting their exhaustion, their stress with the suffering and passion that surrounds them, and it calls out to them. The cross of Calvary is real to them…an abiding experience of a God-man ever shaping them …roughly and rudely at times, in the image of his dying and rising.
 
This week of the passion is not about a memory or a sad remembrance of a dying God. Christ is risen. He is risen to die no more. This is your week, your journey to Jerusalem. How will you walk it? Alone with your anxiety and fear, alone with your pain, or in company with Christ? Now is not the time to clutch the cross to your breast. Now is the time to stretch out your arms as wide as possible, just like Jesus did, opening yourself to your crucified brothers and sisters and remembering that as Christians we are never in this alone.
 
May we pray?
Father as we begin our holy week, we once again encounter how our savior gave himself for us.  May we imitate that generosity even in the sharing of our own suffering. Give us courage in a time of uncertainty.  Give us fortitude as we walk through the dark valleys.  Give us calm hearts that we may trust in your providence.  From the ravages of disease, God Lord deliver us.
We ask this through Christ our Lord.
Amen

 

The Fifth Sunday
of Lent   

John 11:1-44

Every important event needs a rehearsal.   Rehearsals are designed to point to something larger on the horizon and tell us something of what we can expect. That’s something of what’s happening in this chapter of the Gospel of John.  In the Holy Land, in Bethany you can still visit Lazarus tomb…or what they say is Lazarus tomb.  It’s just up the way from the church that bears his name.  You just go out the front door, turn left up the steep cobblestone road, and look for the Lazarus souvenir and gift shop on the right.  Directly across the street you can see the entrance to the cave, enclosed by metal railings…and for a small fee, you can walk down the winding steps into the wet cellar where the old gravesite is—a small opening in a rock wall very close to the ground.  You have to bend way over to get in, and coming out…there is only one way to do it:  head-first, with your upper body already out while your feet are still finding the three small steps—looking up as you straighten up, trying not to scrape your back.  If it really is Lazarus’s tomb, then he did not come out of it like a man walking out of prison.  He came out of it like a baby being born again—first his wrapped face, then his bandaged hands, and finally his feet.
 
It must have been terrifying for him and everyone else…everyone but Jesus, that is—who seemed to know how everything is going to turn out from the moment he first learns that Lazarus is ill. The news reaches him right after he has escaped a religious death squad in Jerusalem.  He is safe across the river Jordan when Martha and Mary send word to him that their brother is ill. Remember that Mary, Martha, and Lazarus are three of Jesus’ best friends.  They want him to come right away, but he doesn’t.  He waits two whole days, which is hard to imagine, and then travels a day or two more, so that by the time he gets to Bethany he has missed the funeral by four days.  This isn’t news to him either.  He knew it before he ever set out and furthermore, he doesn’t seem concerned about it at all.  Nevertheless, this confidence is wasted on Martha.
 
“Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”  There is love in that greeting; love and blame.  She knows Jesus is a life saver, only where was he when she needed him?  She and Mary have just buried Lazarus way before his time with no help from their dearest friend. Any of you who have lost a loved one know what she is going through.  “If only I had made him go to the doctor sooner.”  “If only I had not left her alone.”  When you lose someone you love, you can drive yourself nuts thinking of all the ways it might have avoided, and you rack yourself with the “What if” game. 
 
For Martha, Jesus is the one who could have made the difference, only he was not there and now it’s too late. At least she thinks it’s too late.  She is also willing to believe that it might not be, although this possibility is beyond her imagining.  “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even know I know that God will give you whatever you ask of him.”  Then she and Jesus had a short, powerful exchange about resurrection, in which Martha talks about it as something that happens in the future and Jesus talks about it as something that happens right now—resurrection and life for anyone who believes in him.
 
We have heard this so often that many of us are numb to it.  The basic idea, as most of us were taught it, is that those who are baptized, confessed, confirmed and accept Jesus as Lord receive a coupon for eternal life.  Later when we need it, we can present it to the angel of death and gain entrance into the land of light and life. In the meantime, all we have to do to secure our reward is to believe in Jesus and act as though we do.
 
You can hear some of that in what Martha says.  When Jesus tells her that her brother will rise again, she says, “I know he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day.”  But Jesus corrects her; “ I am the resurrection and the life,” says Jesus.  “those who trust in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and trusts in me will never die.  Do you trust this?”
 
He doesn’t say he has power to give resurrection and life.  He says he is those things, that in his presence they become present reality, because he is the great I AM, whose life is indestructible.  Those who embrace him will never die, no matter what happens to their bodies because he is one with the source and sustainer of all life.  Those who trust that with him…in him…begin their eternal lives right now, and nothing on earth can snuff them out. This is very different from the promise of a future reward, and it is what Jesus is about to do with Lazarus.  He is about to prove that Lazarus is alive and well, even though his body has lain four days in a tomb.  He is about to call his beloved friend back from the living heart of God so that those who think he is dead can think again.
 
But first Jesus must repeat this whole scene with Mary, who says the same thing her sister does.  “Lord if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” 
Notice that everyone in this story is focused on preventing death, while Jesus is focused on outliving it. When he sees Mary weeping and those who are with her also weeping, it tears him up on the inside.  “He was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved,” St. John writes, but the Greek is more visceral than that. Jesus snorts.  His guts are wrenched within him, and when they offer to show him where Lazarus has been laid to rest, he weeps—but again, two different words here.  Mary and the others are wailing out loud.  Jesus sheds tears.  Because he is sad about Lazarus, certainly.  But also, because everyone else is wailing.  They have given up on Lazarus.  They have all said goodbye to him, and they think Jesus has come to do the same thing.  As many times as he has told them, they still don’t get it.  It never occurs to them that Jesus might have come to say hello instead.
 
Like any good teacher, he decides to show them what he means instead of telling them again.  After thanking God for what is about to happen, he shouts, “Lazarus come forth!”  and Lazarus does, trailing behind him the bandages like a scarf he no longer needs.
 
I used to think this was a story about something Jesus did to Lazarus---Lazarus being the prop, almost, the empty shell that Jesus pumped full of life again.  But now I think it is a story about something Jesus did with Lazarus—who was, after all, his beloved friend
who trusted him, and who was therefore full of God’s own life. 
He had moved on, certainly.  The body he left behind had already begun to smell, and he was presumably resting on the bosom of Abraham when he heard his friend cry out “Lazarus, come forth.” Because they loved each other, Lazarus did.  He crawled back through the dark tunnel toward the sound of that voice and emerged, blinking and stumbling, into the light, which was less bright than the light where he had come from, but which was God’s light just the same because Jesus was there, smiling through his tears. 
 
Then his sisters fell all over him, and his neighbors stood back clutching each other as if they had seen a ghost, and when the religious death squad back in Jerusalem heard about it, they stepped up their efforts to assassinate Jesus, which would be very soon. So, Jesus traded his life for Lazarus’s life, among others, by doing with his friend what God was about to do with him. 
 
The timing is important.  The next death we will hear about is Jesus’ own, which will be far scarier and cause more wailing than did Lazarus’s death.  This story is far more than any kind of dress rehearsal. In the gospel of John Jesus knows exactly what is going on, exactly how thing will progress and is always in charge, in control. It’s John’s way of reminding us that all of this is part of a great plan, a great event to which we have all been invited. 
 
“I AM the resurrection and the life,” he says. Not later but right now.  We can join in with that life while we live, so that eternal life is not something we are waiting for at the end of time but something we begin living right now, because we trust in him who lived it and lives it still.  Our Lord invites us to live it with him; he who loves us more deeply than we can ever imagine.  A majestic mystery of unstoppable love that took our own flesh and blood and gave it back for us; offered it on our behalf to his Father who in unity with the Holy Spirit is one God forever and ever and world without end. Amen.

The Fourth Sunday in Lent John 9:1-41

The story of the man born blind

In our time of uncertainty, social distancing and isolation it is easy for us to lose sight of our reality as church.  Today I’m looking out to a big expanse of empty seats knowing that we are scattered around the city in our homes. The church after all isn’t a place and it never has been.  It has always been a community, whether together or apart.  Church is not defined by proximity but by common faith and purpose.  We are the body of Christ whether we are together here or where you are now.
 
Even though we cannot receive the Eucharist together we can receive Christ in our hearts by making a spiritual communion, desiring Christ Jesus to come into our hearts and minds that we may continue to be his body in the world.  In fact, we are never more that body than when we are where Jesus sends us.  So, taking a cue from the apostle Paul, I begin with “To the church of St. Theresa in the city of Austin and throughout Travis County, I bring grace and peace in our Lord Jesus Christ.”
 
Today we just heard the story of the man born blind, a great opportunity Jesus uses to show us why blind obedience is never the wrong thing when it comes to faith in God. In Jesus’ day, to be born blind is to be branded with the guilt of either being a sinner or being the inheritor of your parent’s sin.  It doesn’t really matter which.  You are blind because you deserve it. There are many self-proclaimed religious people around us today who still think stuff like that. That’s why the blind were marginalized in those days and, usually reduced to begging, they really knew what social distancing was about. 
 
We heard today about a person who also must be relatively young since his parents are still hanging around.  As the result of a conversation Jesus has just had with his disciples about whether it was his sin or his parents sin that caused him to be blind, he approaches the young man and smears mud on his eyes and instructs him to go to the pool of Siloam to wash whereupon sight is given to him for the first time.
 
It is an amazing gift that Jesus gives, and the young man has not even asked for it.  Jesus did not even ask him first if there was any sin.  He simply restored him.  He brought him from the edge to the center in one gracious act of love.  The writer of this gospel wants his readers to see the blind man as a symbol of human life apart from God. While it is not a comparison we would use today, it is nevertheless a sign of what Jesus wants to do for all of us if we let him.  In other words, this story, is about more than just the gift of physical sight.  It tells us also that Jesus gives spiritual sight: the inner light of faith.
 
Pay attention to the progressive stages of the blind man’s journey.  Instead of healing him with a word or touch, Jesus invites the man to cooperate in his own healing by going to a certain pool and washing from his eyes the mud Jesus smeared on them.  That first directive doesn’t make any sense from any human perspective, now or then.  Most of us, right then and there would have told Jesus “thanks but no thanks.” Let’s look more closely.
 
The blind guy has not made an appointment with Jesus first.  Jesus just comes to him recognizing need. In other words, Jesus reached out. 
 
How often has he reached out to you and me with the same offer?  How often does he do it without us even asking for it?  For us it isn’t going to be like what we hear in this story. Most often Jesus comes to us in the form of his body here on earth, the community of faith.   We are the body of Christ.  If we take this seriously then when we offer someone an encounter with Christ, and every time we share the good news that Jesus loves them and has a plan for their lives, it is up to them to accept or reject.  And if they cannot trust that this is true, then they will reject.  And if you think we are not offering anything as odd as smearing mud in the eyes as a sign of trust, think again.  We are asking them to put their faith in a first century social misfit who told people that up was down and backward was forward.
 
So, today, as then, following those peculiar instructions requires faith.  Think of how easy it would have been for the young man to have said, “You’re crazy, that won’t do any good…now beat it …imagine that? 
“Here I am minding my own business and his dude comes up to me and then smears mud in my face.  Seriously?
 
But that’s not what this blind young man did.  By his willingness to do this simple thing Jesus asks of him, even when it made no sense whatever, the man, without knowing it, begins his own journey toward faith.  His journey brings him into increasingly sharp conflict with those who, unlike him, are certain that they already possess all the light there is, people who know all the answers. The answers given by the formerly blind man to his questioners shows his advance toward faith.  When asked who had healed him, he first says: That man they call Jesus.”  Later he adds: “He is a prophet.” Then he confesses that Jesus comes from God.  Finally, questioned by Jesus himself, the young man accepts Jesus as the Son of Man: God’s anointed servant, the Messiah, before whom he bows down in worship.  Starting with the recovery of physical sight, he has completed his journey from the blindness of disbelief to the spiritual light of faith. 
 
Meanwhile those who are confident that they have all the answers already are journeying, from self-assured enlightenment to the inner darkness of disbelief.  Initially they seem ready to accept the healing as fact.  Then they begin to question it by raising doubts about the man’s identity.  When his identity has been firmly established, they resort to bullying: “What? You are steeped in sin from your birth and you are giving us lectures?”
 
Finally, these self-righteous spiritual leaders who presume to sit in judgment on Jesus are in turn judged by him.  “If you were blind there would be no sin in that. ‘But we see,’ you say, and your sin remains.”  Refusing to acknowledge their need for God and the enlightenment only Jesus can give, they are condemned to their self-chosen darkness.
The story asks for a decision.  Where do you stand, with the blind young man or with his critics?
The blind man’s journey from darkness to light is possible because he admits that he has a need for light and trusts the one who offers it.  What condemns his critics to journey in the opposite direction is their complacent certainty that they know all the answers already.  Confident that they don’t need what Jesus has to offer, they turn their backs on him, only to have him turn on them with the terrible words: “I came into this world to divide it, to make the sightless see and the seeing blind.”
 
If you can make little sense of life; if you cannot see the way ahead; if you do not know sometimes whether you believe in anything…Then come to Jesus as the blind man came.  He invites you to show him your needs, your fears, your doubts, your blindness. 
 
Tell him you want what he alone can give.  And as you tell him, trust him as the young man born blind trusted him when he obeyed Jesus command to “Go and wash.”  Did this young man know exactly how it happened?  No.  In fact, he wasn’t sure about anything… but he was the only one who eventually saw the light.  One outcast healed another outcast and the Pharisees said so. They even questioned the young man born blind from birth about this Jesus and the only thing he could say with any certainty was this: “One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.”
 
May we pray?
Loving Father help us to see more clearly as we open our hearts to you.  Heal us in the ways that can only come from you, help us to be open to your healing so that with your grace we may see as we have never seen before, and in seeing come to believe.  We ask this through Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen

 

What We Can Learn From the Woman at the Well

The Third Sunday of Lent 2020
John 4: 5-26

 

Lent is our opportunity to reclaim our authentic selves. There is a great deal of unreality in the way most of us live.  We can go a long way through life without ever facing up to certain things about ourselves we know very well should be faced. But what would happen if we met someone who was not prepared to allow us to get away with our games, someone before whom there was no hiding? This is what we hear about today.  This is what happens at an encounter near the village of Sychar.
 
The story involves Jesus and a very articulate and independent woman who, like all of us, had things to hide, but again, like all of us, was prepared to put up quite a struggle rather than reveal what was underneath her mask. Jesus triggered the encounter by simply asking for a drink. In that society that was far from being an ordinary thing to do. A man did not address a woman in such circumstances, and a Jew almost never spoke to a Samaritan. Both rules applied here, and Jesus broke both; probably because he had a strong intuition that something more important than rules was at stake…another human being’s welfare.
 
The next sequence of the encounter is a verbal fencing match. Jesus moves the conversation to deeper spiritual things. She is determined not to, and if we are honest, we know exactly how she feels. 
Only in rare moments, usually when our defenses are down because we feel very vulnerable, are we prepared to express the depths of our life. All during the fencing Jesus’ deep intuition is at work.
Suddenly he moves into the area of relationships and strikes at the heart of her hidden world.
Even then she makes one more effort to detour the conversation to the far less threatening subject of religion using it to deflect.
 
Relationships are deep inside us; religion can be kept outside if we choose. But Jesus does not allow her to succeed.  He stays in the area of her problem and her pain.  Knowing too that this woman is far more real than she is pretending to be, Jesus calls her to face the reality of herself and the grace he can offer her. She shows her real worth by recognizing what he is trying to do for her.
From very early on the people who follow Christ have set aside the season of Lent as a journey toward authenticity.
 
Lent is a good time to take stock of who we really are.  A good look at the lives we lead and ask ourselves the hard question: “How much longer will I keep on like this?” It is a time to stop lying to ourselves; to stop running in away, to stop denying that there is nothing wrong; nothing sinful, nothing out of place. Like the woman in this story we often go to the well, but we fail to get all it has to offer…
we are afraid to lower our buckets all the way down because we hold back. Our pride keeps us from being true to ourselves. We live close to redemption in our daily lives but fail to be washed fully in it. 
The water is always there.
 
When the Israelites were thirsting, complaining and even thinking life would be better under the misery of slavery, God told Moses where the living stream was to be found…and Moses obeys God and strikes the rock with his rod. One even greater than Moses would meet the woman who had come to the well with an even deeper thirst and was prepared to settle for less than what she really needed.
Jesus had to strike the woman’s hardened heart before she would admit to her messed up marriage situation.
 
Paul constantly reminds us that we are the body of Christ. We are part of that which is greater than Moses or Elijah. We can strike the rock ourselves…if we believe, if we have trust in God.
 
 
The gospel message to us is a challenge. It is an opportunity for us to come true before God and admit our failure and allow healing to take place.  Jesus loves you and he has a plan for your lives.
Lent is our opportunity to reclaim our authentic selves. It is an opportunity to relinquish the sin of pride and stop deceiving ourselves; making up our own rules about our faith life and then lying to ourselves saying everything is fine. It is an opportunity to come to Jesus as the woman in the gospel did.
We have a greater than Moses or Elijah here. Come to Jesus and stop settling for something less.
 
Father give us courage this Lent to come to well and surrender to grace.
Father open our ears to hear, open our eyes to see, and open our hearts to embrace what is offered to us from Christ our source of living water.  Amen

 

St. Paul’s Universal Wisdom for a Universal Church 

By Fr. Larry Covington

Paul’s letters fascinate me. 

They offer a glimpse into a time and place, and into particular situations… and almost always situations arising from bad behavior and failure to progress in faith. 

That’s what we heard about today.  He has had a report from Chloe’s people. 

You know Chloe? Right?  Don’t worry neither do I.  All we know is that in Corinth there was a church and the head of that church was a real go getter named Chloe who is clearly identified as the leader of a Christian group there.  She may not have been the presiding elder or the one who offered the Sacrifice of the Lord’s Supper, but there is no mistaking that she was head of that group, make of that what you want. 

The situation there was division and rivalry a sin that has plagued the church since the beginning.  They all believed in Christ Jesus and were striving to live the life of faith, but they had not progressed beyond being a society of people. 

They hadn’t made to leap from association to communion, that state of being really united with another, bound together for the purpose of something bigger and more important than who and what they are as individuals together. 

And, apparently, it was bad enough to bring to Paul’s attention. 

So he wrote this letter that has been preserved and handed on to us as Scripture…meaning that the Holy Spirit saw in Paul’s words something that would apply not only to some contentious early Greek Christians but also to us today.   

Many years ago, the Austrian philosopher Martin Buber wrote a book titled; “The idea of the Holy.”  In it he declared that our highest human duty is to transform society into community.  Here, I think, lies our own critical need.  The Catholic Church is a society;  

Saint Theresa parish is a society. Each is a group of people using common means to achieve a common end.  Each is a group of folks working for salvation, making its way to God, by believing in the Lord Jesus Christ, by responding to his grace, by living a moral existence in harmony with Church and conscience. The Church, the parish, should be more than a society… it should be a genuine community.   Because community adds intimacy to society.   

As Buber saw it, you have a community where people reach out to one another in mutual concern.  Where the overriding relationship is not I to it, but I to you: where the indispensable ingredient, the glue that holds the whole together, is love.  Love not merely in personal relationships but in working together for common values, the good of the community. 

 When I first arrived here, I asked about out parish strengths and the universal answer was “community.” We are a community to the extent that love binds us together, in the measure that love is what motivates us to work together, to the degree that love drives us, despite our disagreements, to achieve intimacy with Christ and one another. 

And I admit, this is abstract, talking about love usually is.  So, let’s balance the abstract with the concrete:  several facts and attitudes without which “Catholic love” is an empty phrase.   

First and above all, we are a pilgrim people.  The ideal really is Paul’s plea: “I appeal to you, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you say the same thing…that you be fully united in the same mind and in the same conviction.”   

That’s the ideal; but that’s not going to happen here on earth.  Until then, we are pilgrims; we are on the way.  Even though we claim to have the fullness of truth we fail to see with perfect clarity; our very sinfulness blurs our understanding.  To know the risen Christ is a ceaseless struggle; it is an agonizing struggle to be in the community he had in mind when the Church was born of his blood and his Spirit. 

If we are going to evangelize and begin with those who belong to the largest denomination outside of the Catholic Church, namely “former Catholics,”  or “nones” then we must realize that although the Catholic Church has all the treasures of God’s truth and grace, its members fail to live by them with all the fervor they should.   

This makes the Church less credible and less attractive than it should be, both to lapsed Catholics and other Christians in the world at large.  We all have a responsibility for the reunion of Christ’s followers.  Each time we compromise Christ’s standards and his demands on us, we diminish the church’s radiance and inflict new wounds on the body of Christ, of which we are members at baptism.  Our sins are not private affairs between ourselves and God.  By weakening our allegiance to him, our sins weaken the unity of this great family we call the Church. 

Second, this means we accept an invitation to be humble, recognizing who I really am: my talents as well as my limitations.  Humble in recognizing how relatively little I know of the God who revealed himself in our flesh.  Humble in recognizing that I too am swayed by passion and prejudice, by likes and dislikes.  Humble, therefore, in accepting direction from above, from those who, the New Testament tells us, have been placed over us to “tend the flock of God.” 

Third, this does not imply that we accept direction blindly, nor does it mean we close our eyes to problems or silence the voice of our own conscience.  And there are different levels of disagreement.  It’s one thing to deny that Christ is God; it is quite another thing to emphatically refuse to shake someone’s hand during the sign of peace.  The first is a refusal to be a Christian while the other is a matter of taste.   

In our day to day morality it isn’t simply to say just when dissent makes one less than Catholic.  Here as in all things we should be slow to judge.  And even when sin is crystal clear, there is a need to image the merciful Christ, whose heart went out particularly to sinners. 

Fourth, if my disagreement is to be Catholic, it must be impregnated with affection: a warm feeling of empathy for those who differ from me.  Not an arrogant “No one can tell me what to do;” not a selfish “This is the way I feel about it and that’s that.”  History and experience will tell us that within one Catholic body we will always have our differences, big and small.  For the most part, the differences are not in basic belief.  But basic belief has never been the historic catalyst for division and so the crucial question is: Can we differ without disliking? Can we contradict without condemnation?  Can we debate without hate?  If not, we need to learn how for the sake of salvation.  

I spend time in dialogue with people outside of the Catholic Church trying to devise ways to focus on our commonality rather than our differences.  But when I stand before the judgment seat of God, the judge who died for me will not ask me: “Did you solve the ecumenical problems plaguing my Church?”  No.  He will simply ask: “Did you love me above all else? And did you love your brothers and sisters as if they were your own self?” 


 

Happy New Year to all 

January 2020

It is my hope that everyone experienced a grace filled time of joy and peace.  Fr. Hai and I were privileged to share the Christmas liturgies with you and members of your families.  We were blessed with the great music of our many dedicated choristers and instrumentalists and the sanctuary was splendid due to the special dedication of those who arranged flowers and decorated the trees.  Many thanks to all who gave time and energy to make our celebrations joyful.

And now it is back to work again. The manger is empty; the wise men have returned to the East, the shepherds to their flocks; the angels have stopped singing and the star has faded somewhere over Williamson county.  The poinsettias have wilted, the tree ornaments and stockings are packed away for another year and January presents us with credit card bills as we get back to business as usual.

The church has a name for this time of year, “ordinary.”  Prior to the changes of  Second Vatican Council, this time of year was called “Epiphany” because through the Sunday readings we were given those instances in the gospels where the many aspects of Jesus were revealed or shown to us.  We still have those readings in the various cycles but not the continuous cycle that gives us an unfolding of who Jesus is for us and the world.  We would see this through the encounter with Simeon and Anna.  Simeon would sigh a breath of relief having finally witnessed the “light of revelation to the nations.”  Rolling up the scrolls in the synagogue, Jesus would tell everyone there that Isaiah was talking about him.  His baptism in the Jordan would reveal God’s pleasure in his beloved Son.  He would perform his first miracle at a wedding showing the world that plenty made available wherever you encountered him.  All ways in which Jesus would be revealed as the way, the truth, and the light.

Truthfully, we do not need any special sequence of Scriptures to remind us of this.  Our celebration of the Sacrament each week is our greatest connection to the ongoing revelation of Christ.  The Holy Eucharist make of us Christ for the world.  We reveal Christ in our own words and actions, the daily little miracles that spur us on.  Christmas is a marvelous season, but it is only the beginning of God’s glory being revealed among us. It is a flickering candle next to the fire of Easter’s glory on the radiant face of the Savior, risen from the dead.  But then that’s another story, so stay tuned!

Wishing you all anything but an ordinary new year!
 

What is Your Mustard Seed?

Fr. Larry's Homily on the 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time, C

Have you ever had the experience of trying to buy something with useless currency?
I tried, once, to use a twenty-five-year-old British One Pound note only to be told that they aren’t accepted anymore.  Imagine that feeling. One moment you have in your hand what you believe is exactly what you need to get what you want only to be told that you do not. And this is not the friendly and beneficent “your- money- is- no- good- here” kind of statement.  It’s the bold fact that what you trusted has let you down.
 
The disciples had also reached that point in their walk with Jesus, so much so that they finally broke down and blurted out: “Increase our faith.” A simple demand, a reasonable request made by those who had seen Jesus do some astonishing and spectacular things.  If he can cause great miracles to happen, summoning faith should be a snap. But Jesus gives a peculiar response.
 
He gives them outlandish comparisons about mustard seeds and mulberry trees.  The rhetoric may be outrageous, but the reality is rich.  Forget about the scenery…the mulberry and the ocean; focus on the fundamental affirmation. In fact, Jesus’ answer does not really meet the disciple’s request; he does not say, “OK, here’s some more faith.” He puts the disciples on the spot.
 
For the Jesus we encounter in the gospel of Luke, what is important is not the amount of faith but the kind of faith. If it were no bigger than a mustard seed, it would still be of unbelievable power.
 
The point for Luke is this: with even the tiniest amount of genuine faith, men and women who listen to Jesus’ word and commit themselves to him can do things impossible to naked human nature. Can you recall how the gospel of Mark ends? “These signs will accompany those who believe: BY using my name they will cast out demons; they will speak in new tongues; they will lay their hands on the sick, and the sick will recover.
 
What about us? What is this faith as we experience it? Especially as Catholic Christians? What is this commitment in concrete reality?
 
First off, faith is not the same thing as certainty. Many people get the two mixed up. Many ask for faith but what they really want is certainty. They want to be excused of all responsibility on their end. “Give me absolutes so that I can get on with my life and not have to think about it anymore.” While that sounds ideal, there is nothing in our faith that points to such a transactional, detached and irresponsible position. Nothing of that speaks to a living, daily relationship.
 
Honestly some think of the pursuit of faith as if it were like their internet or cable provider.
“I just want to make my payment and then always get what I want when I want it.”  When the service fails…and it usually does, then they say: “Well, you just cannot trust them…” 
“I say my prayers, I go to Mass, I give when I am asked…and then God lets me down…”
Faith in God is never the result of any quid pro quo arrangement.
 
For us there are two aspects to faith. First is the intellectual reality and by that, I mean the so-called Act of Faith.  This is what we have been taught and retain in our memory. These are the fundamental truths of our faith in Jesus Christ: “I believe everything the Catholic Church teaches, because God has revealed it through Christ; I accept it not because the church says so; I accept it because through the Church God has made it possible for me to accept it. 
 
It is on God’s word that I can make the declaration: “There is but one God in three divine persons; The Son of God was born of the Virgin Mary. This wafer that looks like bread and tastes like bread is not bread but the flesh and blood, body, soul, and divinity of Jesus Christ.”
This is essential for a genuinely Catholic faith, and why? Because the Son of God took on flesh and blood and died for us to tell us something…about God, about ourselves and about living and dying. It is important for us to take God’s truth on God’s word…but faith is not simply a matter of the intellect.
 
What the disciples were asking for could not be provided by a catechism or a laundry list of doctrines to be accepted without delay. Nor was Jesus about to tell them what doctrines they had to believe to enter the kingdom.
 
What Peter, Matthew, and John wanted was an increase of trust. Faith in its fullness is a surrender of my whole person. My intellect will not save me…nor will it save anyone.
To believe means that I yield everything, including my whole self, to God. Here it is that I risk all.
Against all odds, against all fears, against all objections and in a sense against all reason.
I utter a total yes to God whose will in my regard I often find difficult to understand.
 
A total yes in darkness.
 
Here belief involves total trust. It’s Abraham leaving country and his kin…” not knowing where he was to go”, not knowing what would happen to him along the way, knowing only that God was calling him …at the age of 75, to leave what he loved and to settled where God alone knew.
That’s why we call Abraham “our father in faith.”
 
It is poor old Job sitting on a dung heap crying out in the middle of his torments. “Though God slay me, yet will I trust in him.” 
 
It is Mother Teresa explaining her success to an inquiring reporter: “I am like a little pencil in God’s hand.  The pencil has only to be allowed to be used.”
 
It is the mom and dad accompanying to the cemetery their second child who has died in tragic circumstances to be buried next to the first… not reciting the Creed, only repeating over and over again; “Sacred Heart of Jesus, I place my trust in you…”
 
Or how about Jesus? I suspect a fair number of people do not realize that Jesus lived a life of faith. We tend to see him so absorbed in his Father, so protected by his Father, that faith played little or no part in his life. Not so! A famous German theologian Karl Rahner brought this home to me in his writing about belief in Christ:
“ According to Scripture we may safely say that Jesus in his life was the believer…he is the one who hopes absolutely…loves absolutely.  Jesus surrendered himself in his death unconditionally to the absolute mystery he called his father, into whose hands he committed his existence, when in the nigh of his death and forsakenness he was deprived of everything that is otherwise regarded as the content of a human existence…everything fell away from him, even the security of the closeness of God’s love, and in this trackless dark there prevailed silently only the mystery that…has no name and to which he calmly surrendered himself as to eternal love and not to the hell of futility.
 
The point is this:  For all that he was the Son of God, for all that he had a unique relationship with his Father, this man too died not with experience of resurrection, not with any unassailable proof that he would rise from the dead; he died with faith in his Father,
with hope of life forever. That’s why the last words from the cross are so striking…and faith-filled: “ Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” Remember what his enemies said as they taunted him on Calvary? “He trusts in God; let God deliver him how, if he wants to” …He trusts in God.
 
The disciple’s request for an increase of faith is our request as well. The answer Jesus gives them and us concerns no what can be done for us but what we ourselves can do.  It begins by surrendering anxious lives for the peace that is ours if we decide that there is, instead of ourselves, someone else in charge of everything. It means taking our desire for certainty and placing it where it belongs, in the knowledge that God wants wonderful things for us when we give up trying to buy them with currency for which he has no use. If currency is still the image that works best, then the only currency Jesus takes is us.
 
The boldest move a poker player can make is to say “ I am all in.” Recognizing that God always has the upper hand, maybe our best move is to lay all our cards on the table.
 
May we pray?
Father we often confuse faith with certainty.  It comes from our desire to be the gods of our own little worlds.  Remove what keeps us from surrendering ourselves completely to you that we may with total trust in your plan for our lives, live fully in sure knowledge of your love.
We ask this through Christ our Lord. Amen
 

“Faith comes from what is heard, and what is heard
comes from the preaching of Christ”

- Romans 10

 

 

Organic Gift

by Parker Palmer

 
Years ago, I heard Dorothy Day speak. Founder of the Catholic Worker movement, her long-term commitment to living among the poor on New York's Lower East Side - had made her one of my heroes. So it came as a great shock when in the middle of her talk, I heard her start to ruminate about the "ungrateful poor."

I did not understand how such a dismissive phrase could come from the lips of a saint - until it hit me with the force of a Zen koan. Dorothy Day was saying, "Do not give to the poor expecting to get their gratitude so that you can feel good about yourself. If you do, your giving will be thin and short-lived, and that is not what the poor need; it will only impoverish them further. Give only if you have something you must give; give only if you are someone for whom giving is its own reward."

When I give something I do not possess, I give a false and dangerous gift, a gift that looks like love but is, in reality, loveless - a gift given more from my need to prove myself than from the other's need to be cared for. That kind of giving is not only loveless and faithless, based on the arrogant and mistaken notion that God has no way of channeling love to the other except through me. Yes, we are created in and for community, to be there, in love, for one another. But community cuts both ways: when we reach the limits of our own capacity to love, community means trusting that someone else will be available to the person in need.

One sign that I am violating my own nature in the name of nobility is a condition called burnout. Though usually regarded as the result of trying to give too much, burnout in my experience results from trying to give what I do not possess - the ultimate in giving too little! Burnout is a state of emptiness, to be sure, but it does not result from giving all I have; it merely reveals the nothingness from which I was trying to give in the first place. 

May Sarton, in her poem "Now I Become Myself," uses images from the natural world to describe a different kind of giving, grounded in a different way of being, a way that results not in burnout but in fecundity and abundance:

As slowly as the ripening fruit
Fertile, detached, and always spent,
Falls but does not exhaust the root...

When the gift I give to the other is integral to my own nature, when it comes from a place of organic reality within me, it will renew itself - and me - even as I give it away. Only when I give something that does not grow within me do I deplete myself and harm the other as well, for only harm can come from a gift that is forced, inorganic, unreal.
About the Author: Excerpted from Parker Palmer's book "Let Your Life Speak: Listening for the Voice of Vocation"