Tag, You’re Free!

                Do you remember playing freeze tag when you were a kid?  It was one of my favorite games.  In case you need a refresher, it’s a game where one person is “it” and that person tries to tag the other players who are running around in a defined area.  If you get tagged, you’re frozen in place until you’re tagged by another player who’s still free.  The person who’s “it” wins when he freezes every other player. 

                Now imagine a game of freeze tag where everyone is frozen, including the person who's “it.”  No one can move.  No one can set you free.  And no one wins.  That doesn't sound like much fun, does it?  Well, that was the condition of the world after the fall from grace.  Satan was "it," the world was frozen by sin, and so was Satan.  That might seem like a strange image for Satan, but in Canto XXXIV of Dante’s Inferno, we find Satan, not burning amid the fires of hell as we might expect, but frozen up to his chest in an ice field, unable to move.  He’s so burdened by sin that he can do nothing but cry.[1]  Satan was “it” and everyone was frozen with him.  No one wins.  That was the condition of the world . . . until Jesus Christ redeemed us from our sins.

                So what is redemption?  The Judeo-Christian understanding of redemption has its roots in a Jewish family practice of buying back lost goods or property or a person who was enslaved.[2]   Redemption was a way to satisfy the demands of justice while returning things back to the way they should be.  We see examples of this practice in Scripture in connection with the Jewish understanding that the first-born male belonged to God.  The Jews presented their first-born sons to the Lord on the fortieth day after birth and redeemed them by paying five silver shekels to the Temple priest.  (See Numbers 18: 16)  A passage from the Book of Ruth illustrates the practice of buying back one’s relative who is enslaved or indebted to others.  This passage suggests that a redeemer must possess at least three qualifications:  (1) the redeemer must be a close relative of the person to be redeemed; (2) the redeemer must have the means (financial or otherwise) to redeem; and (3) the redeemer must be willing to redeem.  (See Ruth 4: 1-11).

                In a world enslaved by sin for millennia, no person was capable of redeeming all of humankind; yet, justice still demanded that the price for sins against God be paid.  So we were all frozen, unable to move, unable to free ourselves . . . until the incarnation.  By entering this world and taking on our sins, God satisfied the qualifications of a redeemer.  By becoming fully human, Jesus became our brother, our close relative.  As fully divine, Christ had the means to bear the sins of all humanity for all time.  And by climbing Calvary to his cross, Jesus willingly paid the ultimate price for our sinfulness.  Through his selfless sacrifice on the cross, Jesus unfroze us.  Sin can still freeze us, but now we always have a brother who can never be frozen himself.  And by the grace of God, he is always willing and able to tag us and set us free.

Happy Easter!

---

[1] Dante Alighieri, “The Inferno,” The Divine Comedy (Norwalk, The Easton Press, 1978) at 135-136.

[2] Brennan Hill, Jesus the Christ (Mystic: Twenty-Third Publications, 1996), 232.

Which Criminal Am I?

"When they came to the place called the Skull, they crucified 

him and the criminals there, one on his right, the other on his left."

(Luke 23: 33)

          Which criminal am I?  That's the question I'll be meditating on this afternoon as I listen to the presentation of the Seven Last Words and participate in the Liturgy of the Passion of the Lord.  Am I the criminal who reviled Jesus and challenged him to save himself and them from the cross?  Or am I the criminal who acknowledged Jesus' innocence and his own guilt, asking Jesus to remember him when he comes into his Kingdom?

          I'm sure I'm a little of both.  So I challenge myself today to reflect upon the times when I've tried to make God in my own image, when I've made demands on God and have failed to take responsibility for my own actions.  Perhaps by reflecting on those time, I'll address them and try to live a better life.  But I'll also challenge myself to acknowledge the good that I've done, the times that I've appreciated the enormity of the sacrifice of the innocent Lamb.  Jesus never asked us to beat ourselves up over our failures.  He asks us to acknowledge them, to seek forgiveness where necessary and to receive the gift of God's great mercy joyfully.  If we do this, we will hear Christ's words spoken from the cross:

"Amen I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise."

(Luke 23: 43)

What's in the Box?

1.  Red socks found behind the dryer.

2.  All of the Papal jewelry and vestments that will no longer be needed.

3.  The March delivery from the Communion Wine of the Month Club.

4.  The Vatileaks Report (you keep it, no you keep it).

5.  The German cookbooks from the Vatican kitchen.

6.  Benedict’s beer stein collection.

7.  The complete Downton Abbey DVD set (Anglican Ordinariate edition).

8.  A jigsaw puzzle of the Sistine Chapel ceiling (actual size).

9.   A lifetime supply of Communion wafers.

10.  The President of Argentina.

Tickled P!nk

                Believe it or not, I went to the P!nk concert in Minneapolis last week.  I know that I may not fit the profile of a typical P!nk fan, having already journeyed several years into the territory of middle age.  I admit that the last concert I saw in an arena was an Andrea Bocelli concert, and that was many years ago.   And I’ll even confess that I didn’t know who P!nk was when I accepted the invitation to go to the concert.  The fact of the matter is that I pretty much fit the stereotype of a man my age, so you can just imagine the look on my pre-teen daughters’ faces when I told them I was going.  My host also seemed pretty surprised that I accepted the invitation; she felt the need to warn me that P!nk can be pretty “racy,” to use her word, and give me the opportunity to bow out gracefully.  I went anyway.   

                So what did I think of the concert?  Well, P!nk was, in a word, impressive.  I did, in fact, recognize some of P!nk’s songs; it was good to put a face to her great voice.  Add that great voice to the fact that P!nk is a talented acrobat/gymnast/aerialist, and you have one spectacular performance.  And she really seemed to enjoy what she does, which made the show all the more enjoyable. 

                But what impressed me the most about P!nk wasn't her singing or her dancing or her acrobatics.  It was her integrity.  At one point in the concert P!nk told the crowd that she’s been criticized for using too many “mommy words” in some of her songs, so she drops the f-bomb in those songs to spice them up a little.  But after singing Perfect, P!nk explained that she sang the “clean” version because there were so many children in the audience.  If anyone wanted to hear her drop the f-bomb, they would just have to imagine it.  That’s integrity – the courage to do the right thing no matter the cost.  P!nk put her reputation for edgy performances at risk in order to do the right thing.  A music critic recently commented that P!nk is a woman determined to make an impression at all costs.  Well, she may not have intended to impress anyone by singing the clean version of the song, but I sure was impressed.  In fact, I was tickled P!nk!  

Live Life Living - Homily for the Fifth Sunday of Lent, The Third Scrutiny, March 17, 2013

          If you had asked Dr. Eben Alexander 5 years ago what he thought about near death experiences, he would have told you that they are phenomenon of the brain.  From his perspective as a neurosurgeon, he would tell us that consciousness is created by the brain.[1]  When the brain stops functioning, so does our consciousness.  In other words, when you’re dead, you’re done.  Dr. Alexander believed that the trajectory of life is death – we live life dying.  Our Gospel tells a very different story.

          In our Gospel we hear the familiar story of the raising of Lazarus.  Jesus has come too late, his friend Lazarus is dead.  In fact, by the time Jesus arrived, Lazarus had already been in the tomb for 4 days.  This point is significant because the Jews of that era believed that the soul hovered over the body until the third day when the body would begin to decay.[2]  So certainly by the fourth day all knew that Lazarus was very dead.  Lazarus was done – until he heard the voice of the Lord call him to come out of the tomb and live.     

          Two times in this Gospel passage Jesus tells his disciples that if they believe, they will see the glory of God.  The glory of God is not a self-referential ego trip.  “The glory of God is to give God’s own life to people.”[3]  God’s life isn’t physical life.  God’s life is eternal.  Through Jesus’ life, death and resurrection, we share in that eternal life right now.  We have life everlasting and can enjoy it right now, if we believe. 

          But like Dr. Alexander, we often live life dying.  We experience suffering, hardship and death, and have a hard time seeing beyond them as our ultimate fate.  And so we worry about death and even fear it.  Death then becomes “an imprisoning reality”[4] that inhibits us from really enjoying life; it stops us from really living.  But the glory of God is to free people from the chains of death, to call us from the tomb so that we can live.  All we have to do is believe.  It’s a choice.  If we believe that when we’re dead we’re done, then we choose to live life dying.  If we choose to believe that God’s only Son conquered death to bring us to eternal life, then we live life living.  We’ll still worry, we’ll still experience suffering and physical death, but if we live our life knowing that these are not our fate, then that faith will carry us through every hardship.  That faith will bring us hope and joy through it all.  That faith will lead us to eternal life.

          This powerful Gospel passage is chosen especially for our RCIA candidates who celebrate the Third Scrutiny with us this morning.  You’re almost done, which means that I won’t be able to hold you as a captive audience much longer.  So while I’ve still got you, I’d like to share what I hope you’ve learned over these past several months of catechesis. 

╬ I hope you’ve learned that God loves you more than you can imagine, and that he calls you to share that love with others;

╬ I hope you’ve learned that living a life steeped in faith, hope and love is the most fulfilling and rewarding life we can live; and

╬ I hope you’ve learned to hear Christ’s voice calling you from the tomb, calling you to believe in everlasting life; calling you to live – just like Dr. Eben Alexander did.

          Dr. Alexander’s brain was attacked by a rare form of meningitis that left him in a coma, hovering near death for seven days.  His scientific training would have told him that in a coma, his neocortex was not functioning and, therefore, all consciousness ceased.  But that wasn't the case for Dr. Alexander.  In fact, quite the opposite happened.  Dr. Alexander experienced a heightened sense of consciousness, a consciousness that existed completely free of his physical brain.  And through that experience he learned that life continues beyond the grave, and that life “continues under the gaze of a God who loves and cares about each one of us.”[5]  Through that experience, Dr. Alexander learned what is my greatest hope that you have learned – to live life living. 

---

[1] Eben Alexander, Proof of Heaven: A Neurosurgeon’s Journey into the Afterlife (New York, Simon and Schuster, 2012) at 8.

[2] Scott M. Lewis, S.J., “The Gospel According to John,” New Collegeville Bible Commentary, Daniel Durken, ed. (Collegeville, Liturgical Press, 2008 ) at 340.

[3] John Shea, The Spiritual Wisdom of the Gospels for Christian Preachers and Teachers: On Earth as it is in Heaven, Year A (Collegeville, Liturgical Press, 2004) at 143.

[4] Id. at 152.

[5] Alexander at 9.  

What's in a Name? Francis

             Like many who heard the announcement of our new Pope's name (I was able to make out that bit of Latin), Saint Francis of Assisi quickly came to mind.  Seeing the gentle Pontiff humbly request the blessing of the people of Rome I thought, "perfect," though I was a little surprised that a Jesuit chose the name of the founder of an at least historically rival order. A parishioner later reminded that we have several Saints named Francis in our hagiography, not the least of which are the great missionary Saint Francis Xavier (a Jesuit) and the renowned servant of the poor, Saint Francis de Sales. The Vatican Press Office later confirmed, however, that the Holy Father's chosen name is, in fact, in honor of Saint Francis of Assisi.
          So what's in the name Francis?  First, in honoring Saint Francis, the Holy Father is no doubt calling for a return to simplicity.  We could see that motive in action from our first glance of Pope Francis on the Loge as he appeared dressed in a simple white cassock (without any of the other papal regalia we usually see at the announcement of the new pope), wearing his own simple pectoral cross (not a bejeweled cross typically worn by popes).  Second, by choosing the name of the founder of another religious order, the Holy Father is bridging divides.  It's not Jesuits or Franciscans, it's both and more.

          Lastly, and most significantly to me, the name Francis recalls the conversion of Saint Francis.  You will recall that Saint Francis was born into great wealth.  He lived a privileged life in military service and commerce.  Over time, he began to struggle with his status in life, and he prayed for liberation from his desire for fame, glory and wealth (not unlike Saint Ignatius - the founder of the Jesuits - by the way).  One day Francis found himself praying before the crucifix in the ruins of the Church in San Damiano.  Christ spoke to Francis from the crucifix saying, "Francis, fix my Church."  Francis' ministry began with those words, and so does the ministry of our new Holy Father.

Be(e) One - Homily for the Mass for the Election of a Pope, March 12, 2013

          You may not have known that I am a beekeeper by hobby, but one look at my swollen, red nose this evening will convince you that I am not a very good one.  I was not drinking before Mass tonight.  Bees are fascinating creatures.  Each bee serves a particular function that contributes to the greater good of the hive.  Individually, they act as one.  The unity of a colony of bees is a wonderful image for the Church.  And that unity is what our readings are talking about.

          This evening, we come together to celebrate the Mass for the Election of a Pope, and the readings chosen for this Mass paint a beautiful picture of what Church is all about.  In our first reading, we hear of the work of the Messiah that we all share though our baptism:  to heal the brokenhearted; to proclaim liberty to the captives; to comfort all who mourn.  In our second reading, St. Paul speaks of how we should grow as the body of Christ, each performing our proper part.  And in our Gospel, Christ prays for us, his Church, that we may be one, just as he and the Father are one.

          When we speak of “Church,” many images come to mind:  the building we’re sitting in; the hierarchy; a community of people; and the mystical Body of Christ, to name a few.  The Church is all of these things and more.  And because of that fact, the Church is at the same time “holy and sinful, spotless and tainted.”[1]  The Church’s perfection comes from Christ; it’s weaknesses from us.  This is the Church Christ inaugurated, flaws and all.  “Our Church is and must be alive and real, and that means that it is filled with fragile, weak, sinful humans.  Jesus welcomes us to his Church just as we are and invites us to dine with him at the Eucharistic table.”[2]  Jesus invites us to participate in the good works of the Church, flaws and all.  We’re invited to contribute our individual talents to the good of the whole.  We’re invited to be one.

          And it’s particularly important that we accept this invitation to unity as we come together to pray for the election of a new pope.  There’s been much speculation in the news about the various papabili, their strengths and their weaknesses.  I don’t know about you, but I’m a little “pope’d out.”  Of course, we’re anxious to find the right man for our times.  But as Cardinal Dolan said after hearing the qualifications that the new pope would need, “It seems like we have to elect Christ, not a Vicar of Christ.”[3]  The man elected pope will not be perfect.  He will be as flawed as the rest of us.  Some of us may be thrilled by the choice, others may be disappointed.  But in either case, it’s our obligation to help him.  We can’t grouse about not winning the pool . . . I mean if our favorite candidate wasn't elected.  We have to work with our new pope, flaws and all, to build the Body of Christ.  We have to contribute our talents to the good works of the Church in communion with the new Holy Father.  We have to be one.  Unity from diversity isn't easy, but thank God we always have this assurance:  Jesus always helps us with his grace; and he never fails to show us mercy when we fail.[4]

          Did you know that a bee is a Christian symbol?  If you look around carefully, you'll find them in Church architecture, occasionally on vestments, and you'll hear all about "mother bees" in the Exsultet at the Easter Vigil.  As the efficient producers of wax and honey, bees represent the bearers of the light of Christ and the sweetness of God's favor and the Promised Land.  But bees also represent a well-governed Church where all do their part.  What a beautiful symbol, and perhaps an inspiration to us as we pray together for a new pope; as we pray for the strength and courage to do our part in the good works of the Church; and as we pray to be one.

---

[1] Henri Nouwen, Bread for the Journey: A Daybook of Wisdom and Faith, (San Francisco, HarperCollins Publishing, Inc., 1997), at Oct. 17.

[2] Steve Givens, “A Hospital for Sinners, not a Museum for Saints,” Living Faith (Oct.-December) at Nov. 8, 2009.

[3] Timothy Cardinal Dolan, “Electing a New Bishop of Rome,” The Gospel in the Digital Age, http://blog.archny.org/index.php/electing-a-new-bishop-of-rome/, March 12, 2013.

[4] Id.

Veni Creator Spiritus

In communion with the Cardinal-Electors as they enter the conclave, we pray:

VENI, Creator Spiritus, mentes tuorum visita, imple superna gratia quae tu creasti pectora.	COME, Holy Spirit, Creator blest, and in our souls take up Thy rest; come with Thy grace and heavenly aid to fill the hearts which Thou hast made.
Qui diceris Paraclitus, altissimi donum Dei, fons vivus, ignis, caritas, et spiritalis unctio.	O comforter, to Thee we cry, O heavenly gift of God Most High, O fount of life and fire of love, and sweet anointing from above.
Tu, septiformis munere, digitus paternae dexterae, Tu rite promissum Patris, sermone ditans guttura.	Thou in Thy sevenfold gifts are known; Thou, finger of God's hand we own; Thou, promise of the Father, Thou Who dost the tongue with power imbue.
Accende lumen sensibus: infunde amorem cordibus: infirma nostri corporis virtute firmans perpeti.	Kindle our sense from above, and make our hearts o'erflow with love; with patience firm and virtue high the weakness of our flesh supply.
Hostem repellas longius, pacemque dones protinus: ductore sic te praevio vitemus omne noxium.	Far from us drive the foe we dread, and grant us Thy peace instead; so shall we not, with Thee for guide, turn from the path of life aside.
Per te sciamus da Patrem, noscamus atque Filium; Teque utriusque Spiritum credamus omni tempore.	Oh, may Thy grace on us bestow the Father and the Son to know; and Thee, through endless times confessed, of both the eternal Spirit blest.
Deo Patri sit gloria, et Filio, qui a mortuis surrexit, ac Paraclito, in saeculorum saecula. Amen. Listen: Veni Creator Spiritus	Now to the Father and the Son, Who rose from death, be glory given, with Thou, O Holy Comforter, henceforth by all in earth and heaven. Amen. Listen: Come Holy Ghost

Older Son Syndrome - Homily for the Fourth Sunday of Lent, Laetare Sunday, March 10, 2013

          “The Prodigal Son is one of the Stupidest Stories in the Bible.”[1]  I’ll bet that got your attention.  That provocative phrase is the title of an article written by Neal Stone that I stumbled across while I was doing research for this homily.  As you can tell from the title, the author thinks that the Parable of the Prodigal Son is . . . well . . . stupid   because, in his words, “[i]t contradicts punishment for evil and reward for good.”[2]  Mr. Stone goes so far as to propose a different ending to the parable that goes like this:

          And when he returned home, his father kicked [him] and made him a servant to his brother who did the right thing.  He was sent to his room with no supper while a major party was thrown for the good son as a reward for his faithfulness.  He then would forever be a servant of the family never to receive any inheritance from his father or family and would forever live in shame for what he had done.[3]

It sounds like Mr. Stone is suffering from “Older Son Syndrome.”  Today’s Gospel provides the cure.

          Our readings today tell us that we have entered a new era – a time of great joy.  Our first reading proclaims that the Lord has removed the reproach of slavery from us (Joshua 5: 9a), and our second reading makes clear that “the old things have passed away; new things have come.”   (2 Corinthians 5:17)  Jesus tells us what all this means in the Parable of the Prodigal Son, where a loving father welcomes his younger son who has returned from a life lost to sin, embraces him and throws a big party for him.  The outcome of this story may seem unfair – an ungrateful son is rewarded for his arrogance and disobedience.  The older son in the parable certainly didn’t like it and neither did Mr. Stone.  Maybe we don’t like it either.  But remember, our readings tell us that “the old things have passed away; new things have come.”

          So what are these new things?  Well, let’s start with what has never changed.  God loves us all, perfectly and equally.  And he never stops loving us, no matter what we do.  In fact, God’s love and forgiveness are far, far greater than the grievousness of our wrongdoing.[4]  Pope Benedict XVI talks about this in his first Encyclical, God is Love, when he says that “God’s passionate love for his people – for humanity – is . . . a forgiving love.  It is so great that it turns God against himself, his love against his justice.”[5]  That’s where the new things come in.  The new era begins with Jesus Christ, who through his loving self-sacrifice on the cross, reconciled justice with love.  Through Jesus, God is “breaking through the condemnation of [his] own law in order to reach out and save the lost.”[6]  The love of God, incarnate in Jesus Christ, ushers in the new era: an era where love conquers sin; an era where the Father seeks out the lost, runs out to welcome us, and celebrates our return, not matter what we may have done.      

          But to receive the love that never stops searching for us, we have to be willing to be found.  There is some effort required on our part.  We have to acknowledge our wrongdoing – we have to understand how far we’ve wandered away from God, and we have to turn back.  “[We] have to turn back to God, but we don’t have to crawl back.  Divine love meets [us] more than half way.”[7]    The challenge is that it’s not always easy to see how far we’ve wandered off.  Sure, in the case of the younger son, it’s not too difficult.  When we hear words like “squandered his inheritance,” “a life of dissipation,” and “swallowed up your property with prostitutes,” we know he’s pretty far from God. 

          But what about the older son?  What did he do wrong?   He didn’t demand his inheritance; he stayed faithful to his Father . . . until the father showed mercy to the younger son.  In his self-righteousness, the older son forgets the tremendous love he has received all along, and he becomes angry when his father extends that love to his sinful brother. He doesn’t believe that the younger son deserves it.  With that attitude, the older son has wandered just as far from God as the younger son did, just in a different way.  And he’s missing out on the celebration.  “Sharing in God’s grace requires that we join in the celebration when others are recipients of that grace also.”[8]

          You know, rejoicing, celebrating the new era is what the Church is talking about when it preaches New Evangelization.  New Evangelization is welcoming our lost brothers and sisters home and rejoicing when they return so we can share the joy of God’s Kingdom together, here and now.  New Evangelization isn’t standing with crossed arms and furrowed brows as we judge the sins of others in ways that only God can.  It doesn’t demand punishment for evil.  That’s Older Son Syndrome, and it’s incompatible with New Evangelization and with our own salvation.

          I have to admit that from time to time, I suffer from Older Son Syndrome.  I find myself sympathizing with Mr. Stone’s argument when I overlook the many blessings that I’ve received and self-righteously convince myself that I’m somehow better and more deserving than others.    But fortunately, there’s a cure for Older Son Syndrome.  It begins in recognizing that in my self-righteousness, I’ve wandered as far from God as the younger son did.  Then, standing in the shoes of the younger son, I might understand that if Mr. Stone’s proposed ending to the Parable of the Prodigal Son applied to me, it would sound something like this:

          And when I returned home, my father kicked [me] and made me a servant to my brother who did the right thing.  I was sent to my room with no supper while a major party was thrown for the good son as a reward for his faithfulness.  I then would forever be a servant of the family never to receive any inheritance from my father or family and would forever live in shame for what I had done.

From that perspective, I might not be so insistent on punishment for evil.  From that perspective, I might thank God that a new era has begun and be more willing to rejoice when God’s love is extended to others.  From that perspective, I might just realize that “The Prodigal Son is one of the Greatest Stories in the Bible.”

---

[1]Neal Stone, “The Prodigal Son is one of the Stupidest Stories in the Bible,” ExChristian.net (September 29, 2008), http://articles.exchristian.net/2008/09/prodigal-son-is-one-of-the-stupidest.html, accessed March 8, 2013.

[2] Id.

[3] Id.

[4] Patricia Datchuck Sánchez, “Breaking the Rules,” National Catholic Reporter, vol. 49, no. 10 (March 1-14, 2013) at 23.

[5] Pope Benedict XVI, Deus Caritas Est (Vatican City, Libreria Vaticana, 2005) at 10.

[6] Reginald H. Fuller, Daniel Westberg, Preaching the Lectionary: The Word of God for the Church Today, 3^rd ed. (Collegeville, Liturgical Press, 2006) at 408.

[7] John Shea, The Spiritual Wisdom of the Gospels for Christian Preachers and Teachers:  The Relentless Widow (Collegeville, Liturgical Press, 2006) at 83.

[8] R. Alan Culpepper, “The Gospel of Luke,” The New Interpreter’s Bible, vol. IX (Nashville, Abingdon Press, 1995) at 304.

10 Reasons Why I'll Never Be Pope

╬ White is not slimming – I've reached middle age; I need all the help I can get.

╬ I’m a messy eater – Pasta sauce and white cassocks do not mix.

╬ I have a sixth grade sense of humor – The Curia would not be amused.

╬ My wife would not be amused.

╬ I often fall asleep while praying the Rosary.

╬ The closest I’ll ever get to a Cardinal would be at a birdfeeder.

╬ My homilies are too short – 8 minutes tops.  The Pope is just warming up by then.

╬ My eye twitches when I talk about morality – It might be confused for winking, which would be very wrong.

 ╬ I’d look like Zippy the Pinhead in a miter.

╬ The summer of 1987 – ‘Nuff said.