A VIDEO UPDATE

We head for Malta tomorrow and won't be able to update the blog until I return next weekend.  So enjoy the update video

IMAGINATION, The Art of Faith Proclaimed

The Chapel at Casa O'Toole - the site of the Institute of Continuing Education for Priests
at the Pontifical North American College

These days of sabbatical, which have been devoted to preaching, have often evoked a discussion on imagination.  Through these discussions I have come to a renewed understanding of the importance of creativity in preaching.

ASSISI - Discerning God's Holy Will

The Church of San Damiano outside of Assisi
The original cross was moved by the Poor Clares
to the basilica in Assisi dedicated to St. Clare

St. Francis of Assisi's Prayer before the Cross

Most high, glorious God, 

illuminate the darkness of my heart. 

Give me right faith,

certaihope,

perfect charity,

profound humility.

Give me Lord,

judgement and discernment

to fulfill your true and holy will.

The first time I can recall the word, "discernment," it

FAMILY - Our deepest experience

 © Mazur/catholicnews.org.uk

Pope Francis prays before an icon of the Holy Family at the prayer vigil ahead of the opening of the Synod on Families

As the first week of my sabbatical nears its conclusion, I am very much mindful of my parish family back home.

OPEN THE WINDOW

When I arrived here at the Casa O'Toole on the grounds of the Pontifical North American College for the beginning of my sabbatical program, I was welcomed and taken to my room on the 3rd floor.  "Go over to the desk and open the window," the director of the program said to me.  When I did so, the view above is what I saw.  Today I moved some of the furniture around so I did not have to reach over the desk each day to open the window to let the awesome view of St. Peter's Basilica into my room.

In looking out onto this historic symbol of the Church and the incarnation of Christ from my room, I recalled words from Saint Ambrose that I read on the flight over.  In speaking of the admonition of Jesus to "go into your room (to pray,)" St. Ambrose comments...

But by “room” you must understand, not a room enclosed by walls that imprison your body, but the room that is within you, the room where you hide your thoughts, where you keep your affections. This room of prayer is always with you, wherever you are, and it is always a secret room, where only God can see you.

A hope for me during this blessed time is that I am opened in a new way to the voice of God.  I pray that I may open the window of my soul a bit more, so as to let the grandeur God enlighten my innermost being.  This too is the goal of preaching, the subject matter of my first 3 weeks here.  As a preacher, the words preached are most effective when they touch the inner soul of the hearer.  As a preacher, one must first be able to encourage the hearer to open the window of the soul, to let that word in.  
  
Before obeying the direction to "open the window," I asked, "why?"  "Just do it," my host said.  How often we are reluctant to be open, without knowing the outcome before hand.  As I begin my weeks here, I ask you to pray that I may be open to the Holy Spirit and the Word of God. Through this openness, may I grow in my own faith and therefore be able to offer to you God's word in a more effective way.  

Know that I pray for you, that you too might, "just do it," and open the window of your soul to the greatness of God.

ROMEWARD BOUND - A personal reflection on the visit of Pope Francis

Many have asked if I was able to see the Pope during his visit to New York.  I was fortunate to have attended vespers at St. Patrick's Cathedral and the Mass at Madison Square Garden.  The Mass at MSG was particularly special because it was the first time that I concelebrated mass with a Pope.  As a seminarian I attended 4 masses with Saint John Paul II, three of them in Rome and one here in the U.S.  One of the masses with him in Rome was in his private chapel with the opportunity for a personal audience after the mass.  I had the honor of distributing Holy Communion at Yankee Stadium during Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI's visit in 2006.  But the mass with Pope Francis was a unique gift, joining my brother priests in the section behind the altar and sharing in the offering of the sacrifice of Christ with the Vicar of Christ himself was truly one of the most sacred moments of my life as a priest. That being said the most personal moment of the Pope's visit was vespers at St. Patrick's on the evening before.

When I was a new college graduate, I worked for a time in New York City.  During those months, I would go to St. Patrick's Cathedral and pray in front of the Blessed Sacrament in the Lady Chapel.  As I was asking God to me help to understand what I was called to do, I was mindful of the din of the city noise outside.  In that chapel, I found comfort in the peaceful presence of our Lord and clarity in my discernment.

Almost one week ago,  I sat in that same cathedral awaiting the arrival of Pope Francis. With the assembly gathered, I prayed the rosary using beads given to me by Saint John Paul II. Unlike my visits long ago, there was no noise emanating from outside the cathedral. All I could hear was the peaceful prayer of God's people awaiting our Holy Father. When the Pope arrived, he processed through the cathedral and went directly to the Lady Chapel, and then he prayed before the very same altar, my altar, where I first prayed about my vocation.  How incredible this was.

The words Pope Francis spoke that night were powerful and encouraging to me.  The Holy Father took me back to where it began for me. Having now the perspective of 18 years of priesthood, it was an incredible reaffirmation of the discernment that began right there, 25 years ago.

During the homily, Pope Francis said

We can get caught up measuring the value of our apostolic works by the standards of efficiency, good management and outward success which govern the business world. Not that these things are unimportant! We have been entrusted with a great responsibility, and God’s people rightly expect accountability from us. But the true worth of our apostolate is measured by the value it has in God’s eyes. To see and evaluate things from God’s perspective calls for constant conversion.

Those words articulated the reasons I sought the sabbatical experience that begins for me this week.I depart this Sunday afternoon to participate in the Institute for Continuing Theological Education, at the North American College in Rome.  I will spend a little more than the next 7 weeks there.  I am grateful, humbled and a bit anxious about these weeks ahead.  At the institute, I will be engaged in coursework dedicated to preaching and evangelization in the modern era.  In addition, the city of Rome provides both a symbolic and tangible experience of returning to the roots of personal faith as well as the mission of the church. I look to this immersion as a means of strengthening my faith and deepening my encounter with Jesus Christ and His Church. 

I am a person who feels most comfortable at home.  I desire to be close to my family and my ministry.   It is with  some anxiety that I take this time. It is truly hard for me to let go.  But I am eager to follow Pope Francis, back to Rome and along the path of priestly ministry that he is leading us.

I anticipate that I will find opportunities  to share the experience via this blog in the weeks ahead. I ask you to pray for me. 

PENTECOST & MEMORIAL DAY - Renew the Face of the Earth

There is growing expectation for Pope Francis' soon to be released encyclical on the environment. Some may question why the Pope would devote a teaching letter to this issue.  Most certainly we know that we are called to be good stewards of the earth.  A pope writing on such an issue is not simply concerned with the physical preservation of the planet.  The state of the physical environment is also a symbolic expression of the state of the world and its people.

The world can be painful place but it was not created to be so.  The biblical image of the Garden of Eden is a metaphor of God's design.  Our broken humanity alone is responsible for the pain. A selfish disregard of the worlds physical resources is indicative of the selfish disregard for other lives. Unfortunately one of our reactions to the pains and sorrows of life is the perpetuation of that pain, through our selective outrage to injustice. Protests which bring injustice to light are important. Fighting within ourselves, however, or the demonizing of a class of people or law enforcement only increases the pain.  And media fueled outrage for a select agenda only enhances the divide.  

If our outrage was genuine would there not be riots over the shooting death of a 14 year old boy? 

http://www.nbcnewyork.com/news/local/Bronx-New-York-Teen-Killed-Sheridan-Avenue-162nd-Street-304705621.html

If we truly cared about injustice would not the shooting death of a police officer and mother of a new born child cause an outburst of indignation.   

http://www.washingtonpost.com/news/post-nation/wp/2015/05/20/omaha-police-officer-shot-and-killed-a-day-before-beginning-maternity-leave/

Or if all lives matter shouldn't we be outraged that nearly 1 in 3 minority children are aborted every year? http://www.washingtontimes.com/news/2015/jan/21/j-kenneth-blackwell-black-abortions-a-crisis-in-am/

As we celebrate Pentecost this weekend we also celebrate Memorial Day and remember those whose lives were lost in service to the protection of life.  We do not honor those who died for peace with the perpetuation of violence.  We do not respond to injustice with further violations of justice. And we do not reserve our outrage to those protests which are politically correct or elevated by the media. We can not seek the physical healing of the earth without understanding that the healing of humanity is constitutive to that effort.
May this classic prayer to the Holy Spirit be our guide for what we seek, renewal, a fire of love and wisdom

Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and kindle in them the fire of your love.

Send forth your Spirit and they shall be created. 

And You shall renew the face of the earth. 

O, God, who by the light of the Holy Spirit, did instruct the hearts of the faithful, grant that by the same Holy Spirit we may be truly wise and ever enjoy His consolations, 

Through Christ Our Lord, Amen.

A mother's love is of God...and we need more of it.

At mass this weekend, the scripture readings speak of God’s love and the unconditional nature of it.   They are fitting words as we celebrate our mothers and give thanks for the ministry of motherhood.  In many ways, a mother’s love is the best example of what God’s love “looks like.”  Its not always pretty and to the outside observer, it may not make sense.  This week I found a reflection that I found both unimaginatively compassionate and at the same time hard to accept.  I want to share it with you because it is a genuine example of the conflicted love we try to live.  They are the words of a teacher named Becki Norris, who testified during the penalty phase of the man convicted of the Boston Marathon bombings. In her explanation for testifying she said in part:

Over the past two years, I have had to accept that a kind and gentle temperament is not a lifetime guarantee, and a smart and caring child can go far, far down an evil path...I testified to help the jury see why he might be spared the death penalty. I also hoped to show him, in spite of what he has done, that someone cares about him as a person....

I urge you to read the whole reflection in its entirety, (Why I Testified On Behalf Of Dzhokhar Tsarnaev) because I know that in reading it I was challenged to ask, "Is this what Christians are supposed to do?  Is this what the mandate to love is all about?"  Personally I don’t know.  

I share her thoughts, not to validate them or to say that you too should feel this way.  Victims of violence, especially the victims of this act, can not and are not called to feel this way - but is not someone?  I was particularly struck by the line, “I hoped to show him, despite what he has done, that someone cares about him, as a person.”  Love sees beyond the act and recognizes the person.

We have all heard the phrase which labels someone as one whom, “only a mother can love,” and we all have encountered people in life, that only God can love.  As disciples we have to challenge ourselves, once in a while, to be the person through which God loves the “unlovable.”  It is most certainly not easy to love.  Mrs. Norris' life would be less challenging if she never loved this young man, if she was ignorant of his unique humanity that engaged her.  But she dared to love this student, and now she bears the pain of that love. Would she have preferred not to have ever known and loved him?  Would a mother prefer to have never loved her child?  Would God?

Love is of God, it is not an act of human manifestation.  In a world that continues to be torn apart by violence - we seek a divine intervention.  We seek love and God seeks to love -- through us.  The world can not heal without love.  We desperately pray for peace, for freedom from terror and terrorist.  We pray that there be less people in the world like this man.  But we also must pray for more people like this teacher and mother.  On this Mother’s day, may the divine ministry of motherhood provide us an example and a challenge to love one another as we have been loved.

Why Lent? Its a crazy thought.

If you follow my Twitter or Instagram accounts, you know I have spent the last few days in the frozen tundra of Sag Harbor on retreat.  I posted the pictures as a way of sharing the solitude of the experience, knowing that not many get the gifted opportunity of going on retreat.  I also wanted to make sure people knew I wasn't on a beach somewhere.  Actually, it was a beach, but you get the point, I hope.

Even though I am not a fan of winter, I find it is the best time for me to go on retreat. There is something about winter that encourages the necessary environment of solitude.  The season of Lent is also an opportune time for me - in that my spiritual psyche is directed toward renewal at this time of year.  I feel supported by the recollective spirit of the liturgical season.  A retreat is a restorative time that I think gives us the opportunity to believe in the possible, for me therefore, looking at frozen bays, several feet of snow and dead branches on trees helps me to have hope for new life.

Lent is therefore a time of retreat for all of us.  A time to believe in the hope that new life is possible.  We anticipate the celebration of the resurrection of the Lord and the renewed life of faith that is possible for each of us.  Our own renewal is important not just on a personal level but when we are renewed we see the world differently and we have an increased desire to bring about the change that we seek, as well as what the Lord wishes for us.

I want to share a brief insight, therefore, that was a part of my retreat reflection. As I began the retreat I was using the 15th Chapter of John's Gospel as a source for contemplation.  It is Jesus' discourse on the vine and the branches. The passage actually continues a bit into the 16th chapter.  It was there that I found these words.

 In fact the hour is coming when everyone who kills you, will think he is offering worship to God.         -John 16:2

Mindful of the martyrdom of the Coptic Christians in Egypt last week and the hundreds of Christians taken hostage in Syria this week, I thought to myself, surely this time has come.  I could not help myself be distracted in anger at those who do such things and the lack of leadership from our nation and the nations of the middle east.  This evil must be squashed. Good is much more powerful then this evil is it not? What a disturbing and disconsolate thought for a retreat.  I set the anger aside, however, and focused on myself throughout the next days.  But strange things happen on retreat, or more appropriately you think strange things.

I've been saying mass each day for me and the sisters who live here, as I prepared the readings today I had a strange thought when I read this passage from the first reading.

Do I indeed derive any pleasure from the death of the wicked? says the Lord GOD. Do I not rather rejoice when he turns from his evil way that he may live?     -Ez 18:23

Here comes the strange thought.  What if the Saddam Hussein's, Bin Laden's and the Hitler's of the world had had saw the error of their ways, under went a conversion, admitted they were wrong and asked forgiveness?  Wouldn't that have been more powerful then ending their evil with their deaths? Crazy right? Impossible even.  I told you, crazy thoughts come from retreats.  Surely it is hard for us to see this as possible, but can you understand why the Lord says the rejoicing comes not from the death of the wicked but in their conversion? God cares about souls first and foremost so there is no joy for God in lost souls. But think too of the power that conversion would have had in these examples. These men had power to do great evil, think of the power their conversion would have been.  Through evil, they had great influence, would their power be as great if they were to as they were as passionate in their conversion?  I know -- crazy thoughts.

But here is where I found myself going with this. At the beginning of the retreat I desired the destruction of evil but at the end I was musing on the greater power of conversion.  In our own lives we seek to destroy evil within ourselves. We try to root it out of our relationships and all that we encounter.  Isn't that why we discipline ourselves during Lent?  Actually its not.  We discipline ourselves so that we might be changed, that we might turn away from what is sinful not because we drive it out, but because through our Lenten journey we encounter the merciful love of God who gave his only Son. Christ comes not to destroy us or the evil with in, but to change us through mercy.  Could my greater sense of God's mercy for me influenced these crazy thoughts? I think so.

We all struggle with forgiveness.  How can I forgive the one who hurt me so much? Firstly, we forgive so that the evil which has been done to me no longer dominates me.  More importantly, we forgive so that mercy may prompt conversion.  We go through the retreat of Lent so that we might know mercy and be transformed by that mercy.  Transformed we understand the power of mercy, the power to save a soul rather than loose it. The power to not perpetuate death but dissolve its power.

I hope you can find some solitude during these weeks of Lent, so that you might have a greater awareness of what is possible in you and through you because of the mercy of the Father and the Son.

Why Lent?  Because only in the barren solitude would we have such crazy thoughts.

We All Matter

“All lives matter.”  This statement has been an  inclusive response to the unrest we have experienced in our communities.  Rather than extolling the rights of one particular race or class, the most appropriate message is that no life is less worthy of the dignity and respect due to all people, for we are made in the image and likeness of God

The phrase came to my mind again last week during the coverage of the terrorist attacks in France.  The supposed reason for the attacks was a perceived disrespect for the Islamic faith.  The attackers in turn violated the

right to free speech, no matter how ugly, and the most essential right that even the lives of our enemies matter.  As disturbing as this event was, I found the lack of attention given to terrorist attacks in Nigeria last week, to be a painful reminder that our public reactions often reveal that all lives don’t matter equally.

Last Saturday, explosives, strapped to a girl who appeared to be about 10-years-old, detonated, killing at least 20 people in a Nigerian village. Furthermore it is believed that militants killed as many as 2,000 people, mostly Nigerian civilians, in a massacre that started the weekend before the terror attack in Paris.  While world leaders united in Paris to stand in solidarity against terrorism, hardly a public statement was made about the atrocities in Nigeria. In fact, Nigeria’s own president publicly expressed sympathy and Nigeria's "full solidarity" with the people of France, but he failed to do the same for the victims of terrorism in his own country.  Do not all lives matter?

This week hundreds of thousands of people will participate in the annual March for Life in Washington D.C.  Some estimates say that 1 in 4 Americans who live east of the Mississippi river participate in this event each year.  During any given year there will be extensive media coverage of rallies and marches that garner hundreds, or at the most, thousands of participants yet this march is hardly ever reported.  Do not all lives matter?  Do not demonstrations advocating a respect for life matter?

The reason people of all faiths and ethnicities participate in the March for Life, is very simply that, all lives matter.  Why do we see so many acts of violence at

home and abroad?  It is simply because our societies have devolved into accepting that certain lives don’t matter.  Poverty and racism are a result of a genuine acceptance that some lives matter less than others.  At the root of the pro-life movement is the very simple belief that, all lives matter.  If I cannot state unequivocally that the LIFE of an unborn child matters, where is my credibility when I profess that the lives of the poor, minorities, and other underrepresented people matter?

St. Paul teaches us that we are all equally members of the body of Christ and our bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit. Therefore all lives matter.  We cannot accept that the victims of terrorism in one country seem to matter more than victims in another land.  We cannot accept that lives of the victims of poverty, racism and violence deserve our attention any more than the millions of unborn lives that are lost each year.  Nor can we say that these unborn lives matter more than their mothers and fathers who are terrified by a crisis pregnancy.

I pray that each of us who take this faith of ours seriously, examine our conscience, and reevaluate those times and places in our lives when we did not respect the dignity of life.  For in the eyes of God – all lives matter.

CHRISTMAS TRUCE

Because this year marks the 100^th anniversary of its occurrence, there have been quite a few articles and stories written about what is known as the 1914 Christmas truce.  It is the legendary story of British and German soldiers on the western front of World War I, ceasing hostilities on that Christmas and actually joining each other in companionship, playing soccer and singing Christmas carols together.  Movies and books have been written, dramatizing the occurrence and it has become a hopeful symbol of the possible.  The reality is the Christmas day truce, was the culmination of what had become an ordinary occurrence.  Soldiers on the front were in such close proximity to each other that they would shout to each other in conversation.  They develop agreements not to attack each other at tea, meal or washing times.  They allowed each other the opportunity to peacefully recover the deceased and injured.  During these breaks they were known to exchange small gifts and cigarettes.  One historian reflected on these truce experiences as one that “gave soldiers some control over the conditions of their existence.” The December 1914 Christmas Truce was not a unique event, but a result of the closeness they had already developed.

What I find most interesting about the famous Christmas truce is that it was not a political or humanitarian decision from above, it came genuinely from the men in the trenches.  Such truces were discussed and proposed by various leaders, but few believed it was possible and some saw it as weakness.  Pope Benedict XV is known for appealing to the heads of state to avoid the war before it began and at the beginning of that December begged again that the warring nations would embrace a Christmas truce. His appeal fell on deaf ears.  The truce happened not as a top down order, but a grass roots gesture of human decency.  The enemy was so close, their deplorable living conditions similar, and they all shared the same desire to return to their families.  They had more in common than they had differences – and those common desires evolved into a unifying peace -- which perhaps was the most authentic celebration of the birth of the savior that one could have. 

We've lived for many years now in a new kind of war. One hundred years after the First World War, we are still longing for a peaceful world.  We feel powerless and we find ourselves saying someone needs to do something.  We look to our leaders and to Pope Francis for the answers and direction; but the world doesn't seem to change.  Within our own nation and our own city we have been living a painful war these last few months.  In the wake of the assassination of two police officers – political leaders and clergy have called for a truce to this war but the protests and rhetoric go on. We have battles in our own personal lives too, wars at home.  How many of us have asked our mother what she wants for Christmas only to receive the reply, “I just want everyone in this family to get along.”

In the divine wisdom of God, the savior of the world is not an earthly king, a soldier or even a member of the religious establishment – but a savior who is close to us in our humanity.  The salvation that we seek from the battles of our lives is found when we draw close to this child born in a manger.

God himself literally comes across the line to be in humanity, because God sees himself in us. We are made in his image and likeness – so we may know peace.

On the western front of World War I, soldiers drew close to the child as they spent time with the savior who was present in their enemy across the line – and they knew peace.

Through the words of the Gospel, the reception of the Holy Eucharist and our meditation on the nativity scene before us, - we draw close to the Lord and we hope for his peace.

When we have the courage to cross the lines of life and see our God in our enemies and our agitators, we know the saviors peace.

With whom do we need to come to a truce?  Who is across the table, across the street, down the hall, around the corner, in the next town over, the bordering nation or across the globe who bears the same struggles and the same Christ as me?    Can we look across these battle lines of life and see a brother or sister whose joys and sorrows are the same as mine?  Who simply longs for peace like I do?

We heard St. Paul in his letter to Titus say, “our savior appeared, not because of any righteous deeds we had done but because of his mercy.”  God looks across the battle front of human history and he sees his Son in us, he sees his sons and daughters – and without merit, he extends his mercy, there is peace.  When we look across the battle fronts of our lives – we can’t help but see Jesus.  The innocent child born of meager means, the man on the cross who dies for us; calling us to be merciful.  No one deserves mercy – it is a sacrificial gift which is the seed of peace.

In the folklore of the telling of the 1914 Christmas truce, it is often recounted that the carol the soldiers sang together was, Stille Nacht - Silent Night.  This probably was not accurate, since the German song was not yet well known to the English speaking Brits.  It is more accurately believed that what they sang together was, “O Come All Ye Faithful,” because both the German and English speakers would know the tune and its Latin lyrics.  Moreover, this carol more accurately reflects what made the truce possible; faith and the faithful.  Not leaders and governments – the faithful who come to adore Christ.

The birth of Jesus, God made man, is the manifestation of the divine truth that a genuine peace happens when the desire to be right is sacrificed for the greater desire of mercy.  The child in our midst draws us close this day and every day so we may recognize him in friend and adversary, extinguishing our thirst to battle and fostering in us the desire to manifest divine peace.

Are You Watching?

One of the perks, or more appropriately, blessings of my years as a high school chaplain was the chance I had to chaperone several trips to Europe.  It was on the first of these trips that I learned an important lesson from our tour guide. Arriving in London, our group was certainly tired from our travel, but we were excited to begin our adventure.  Our first stop, however, did not seem to be so adventurous.  Our guide brought us to a cafe and told us to get ourselves something to eat or drink and after we did he encouraged us to put our maps away and simply watch the crowd go by.  At first this sounded like a terribly boring thing to do.  But after a short while we found ourselves pointing out the various sights and people.  Some even chatted about how the coffee or the pastry tasted different from what they had at home.  When our guide asked us if we were ready to move on, we found ourselves asking for a little more time to watch and take it all in.

What this seemingly unexciting activity allowed us to do was to observe the pace of life, the fashion, the culture, the characteristics of people, what they eat, the smells of the city, the architecture.  This simple activity introduced us very quickly to a new culture and way of life, an experience we would not have if we did not take the opportunity to stop and watch for awhile.

I continue to remember this lesson and apply it, not only when I go to new places, but I try to remind myself to do this in everyday life.  We learn best when we watch and observe.  When we have responsibilities to fulfill we are at our best when we "watch what we are doing."  How often we hear a child say, "watch me Mommy," as he or she accomplishes something new. Being watchful and attentive is an excellent way for us to acknowledge the value and giftedness of others.

As we begin the season of Advent, the word, "Watch" describes the disposition we need to have if we wish to be nourished by the blessings of the season. Taking a step back to simply watch, is so contrary to the rhythm of life this season.  We are busy with many tasks during these days and we are pulled in various directions.  It is necessary, therefore, to set aside the time to watch and observe.

Advent watching is about two perspectives.  This season is about watching and waiting to celebrate once again the birth of the savior in time. Advent is also characterized by our watching and waiting for the second coming of Christ in the end time; as well as the presence of the savior in our everyday life. The Advent season is alerting us to the call to vigilantly watch for the savior here and now.

In order for us to watch for a savior, however, we must acknowledge that we are in need of a savior.  Why watch for a savior if I don't need to be saved?  I love going for a swim in the ocean, but I am consciously aware of the location of the lifeguards because I know that despite my ability to swim, I may need to be saved.  During this season we are watching for a savior, because we have observed our own need for one.

"Watch yourself," we sometime admonish each other if we sense the other is stepping into danger. My nephews are visited everyday by Fred, their elf on a shelf who watches them and reports back to Santa if they are bad or good. Knowing that Fred is watching, is really an exercise in being aware of one's own behavior.  Most importantly then, we ask the Lord for the grace and the courage to observe ourselves.  Watch the language you are using.  Watch your habits that are annoying or harmful to others.  Watch the relationships and people you take for granted or abuse. Watch how someone is waiting for you to apologize. Watching for a savior makes no sense if I have not first observed that I need to be saved from my sin and imperfections.

During these days find yourselves an Advent Cafe where you can watch and observe.  Find the time to be watchful and quietly say, "Come, Lord Jesus," and watch what happens.

How lovely is your dwelling place

Do you not know that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwells in you?

A year and a half ago, we completed a major renovation project of our church. We were able to turn what was part church and part multipurpose area into one single space of noble simplicity for worship. The final product was well received. One aspect of the work has still remained, however.  Several panels of stained glass were removed in order to create a new sanctuary wall.  We have been trying to find creative ways to reincorporate these windows into the renovated space.  Last week we found a space for some of those pieces.  

In the renovated sanctuary a full length piece of translucent material was placed behind the tabernacle.  The intention was to surround the tabernacle with natural light.  In the end, after living with it for over a year, most of us felt that the image created was underwhelming.  Thanks to the skills and ingenuity of our maintenance staff, three of the glass panels were fashioned to be inserted in the wall behind the tabernacle. The transformation was amazing, the insertion of the stained glass transformed the sanctuary. What was already a renewed place for worship was enhanced and a renewed sense of the sacred was evident.

Churches can be lavish and beautifully adorned or they can be of a simple construct, but God’s dwelling within them is no less significant. Appreciating our churches as sacred dwelling places of God also gives us an opportunity to proclaim the truth that the divine chose to dwell in the human experience. The sacred dwelling place of a church is a symbol of the temple which is the human person, first in Jesus Christ and then all of us. Like a church the human person can have profound intelligence, observable beauty, athletic skill and strength.  However, the human person can also be burdened with pains, sorrows and limitations beyond endurance. God’s dwelling is no less significant in anyone of them.

Earlier this week I concelebrated the funeral mass of Patricia and Derek Ward. The previous week, Pat lost her life at the hand of her son, Derek, who subsequently took his own life. The principal celebrant of the mass was our diocesan bishop, William Murphy and the homilist was Fr. Robert Lubrano, the brother and uncle of the deceased. I have never been present for a double funeral let alone one in which the circumstances were as unfathomable as this one. I do not know how Fr. Bob was able to preach as he did, I don’t know if I could have managed to put a comprehensible sentence together. 

It was one of the most powerful reflections I have ever heard. Fr. Bob preached about how his sister was the personification of Jesus’ great commandment to love. In particular, those who are difficult to love. Her career in teaching was one dedicated to the marginalized who she believed had the right to an education that would empower them to better opportunities in life. She applied that same loving effort to her son, whose mental illness and learning disabilities made it difficult for him to read. Through her steadfast love, he became an avid reader. She loved him as his mental illness grew uncontrollable and she struggled to find care for him. Over and over again, at this funeral of his sister and nephew, Fr. Bob challengingly spoke of the dignity of the human person, no matter how broken or sinful and their God given right to be loved and cared for.

The event of Pat and Derick's death generated a great deal of media attention.  In one way, I was glad that there was no media present for the funeral mass, but I also found myself wishing that the larger world, who knew of the tragedy, also had the opportunity to hear the profound words of faith spoken by a grieving brother and uncle.  I therefore felt called to share what I could. In a week in which my parish community was given an renewed opportunity to acknowledge the presence of God in the sacred dwelling place of a church, I was reminded to recognize his presence in the sacred dwelling place of the human person.  We must commit ourselves to acknowledging and caring for that presence in our brothers and sisters of all faiths, orientations, ethnicity, and abilities great and small. 
Fr. Bob began his homily and I conclude this reflection with these words from President John F. Kennedy’s inaugural address.

The world is very different now. For man holds in his mortal hands the power to abolish all forms of human poverty and all forms of human life. And yet the same revolutionary beliefs for which our forebears fought are still at issue around the globe—the belief that the rights of man come not from the generosity of the state, but from the hand of God.

The Resurrection Is No Fairy Tale

The resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth, happened in time, not once upon a time.  It is not a story of fictional characters but real people, flawed people who betrayed and abandoned him.  It is not a story of a victory won through violence or vengeance, but with the words of peace spoken by the one who shows his fatal wounds, now healed to those who abandoned and denied him.

The resurrection is an explosive event that has influenced our history and fashions us in hope and the knowledge that death is powerless to love and mercy.

The resurrection of Jesus Christ is not a fairy tale - but its truth continues to permeate all of our lives, even our fairy takes.  I recently watched Disney's latest fairy tale, "Frozen," and this truth was there.  Spoiler Alert.  

Queen Elsa has accidentally afflicted her sister Anna with a spell that has frozen her heart and soon will take her life.  The only thing that can save her is an act of true love.  But just as an act of love seems to draw near, the afflicted Anna runs to stop the blow of a sword that will kill her sister the Queen.  Her courage saves Elsa, but time has run out for Anna, she is frozen and takes her last breath.  But watch what happens. 

You sacrificed yourself for me?  That is the question we speak aloud to our Lord today.  It is the question and the truth that permeates our fairy tales and our everyday lives.  That God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that we might have life.  Happy Easter.