Monday, May 11, 2015

New Evangelization: Have you ever been experienced?

It's easy to forget that Pope Francis' Apostolic Exhortation, Evangelii Gaudium, was the post-synodal exhortation for the XIIIth Ordinary Synod of Bishops, held in the autumn of 2012. The subject of this synod was "New Evangelization for the Transmission of the Christian Faith." It seems to me that this New Evangelization is a subject we often address with a lot of sentimentality and very many good intentions, even while failing to grasp the enormity of the challenge and the only response to this provocation (see "Papa Francesco calls on the Church to emerge").



I read three things recently about the Church in Ireland that, I believe, help us scope out, as it were, the challenge provoking us to the New Evangelization. But before proceeding to those I want to examine our situation in the United States a bit. While there are significant cultural differences between Ireland and the United States, despite the fact that people from the U.S. are often viewed and depicted in Ireland, Great Britain, and Western Europe as naïvely and even gullibly Christian, here, too, Christianity has begun a steep decline. A recent Washington Post piece noted "the percentage of adults who describe themselves as Christians dropped by nearly eight percentage points in just seven years to about 71 percent." Over the same period "the share of those who are not affiliated with a religion has jumped from 16 percent to about 23 percent ..."

When one factors in the the inability of many Christians in the U.S. to distinguish between being Christian and being "an American," the kind of thing that leads to what Hank Hanegraff refers to as "the Osteenification of American Christianity," a cross-less, often Christ-less variant, it's easy to predict an even steeper decline in the coming years as people realize the hollowness and downright falsity of such a "faith".

As far as Catholicism in the U.S., as anyone who has spent time in pastoral ministry can tell you, like in Ireland and other places, it is not really a way of life to be taken seriously and lived for many people. It's more of a cultural marker for some who come from ethnic backgrounds that are traditionally Catholic, or merely a non-demanding way of identifying one's self when asked, "What religion are you?" Having spent the last 20 years pouring enormous energy into RCIA, I never ceased being amazed at the number of people who went through the lengthy process of becoming Catholic only to quickly lapse into non-practice. The lapsing of converts is not merely a local phenomenon, but a national one.

The first of the three items is a review of Irish writer Lisa McInerney's first novel The Glorious Heresies. It was reviewed by Elena Seymenliyska for The Telegraph. I have not yet read McInerney's novel, but I certainly plan to do so. I was struck by two things from the novel that Seymenliyska shared in her review. The first is a quote by the character Jimmy Phelan, the boss of Cork's criminal underworld (the city in Ireland in which the novel is set), described in the review "as a wistful Celtic Don Corleone" - "If we lived in a world where good deeds meant anything I’d have played along but this isn’t that kind of world."



The second thing that struck me in the review of The Glorious Heresies was an excerpt from a confession made by Jimmy's mother, Maureen, to a priest. Maureen conceived Jimmy out-of-wedlock and so was exiled, which was often the fate of pregnant young women in Ireland at the time. Her exile left Jimmy to be raised by her "churchy" parents, about whom Seymenliyska, presumably taking her cue from the novel, wrote, turned Jimmy, "born a little cherub out of wedlock... into a veritable monster..." "Times were tough," Maureen tells the priest, "and the people were harsh and the clergy were cruel." She continues, "The most natural thing in the world is giving birth; you built your whole religion around it. And yet you poured pitch on girls like me and sold us into slavery and took our humanity from us."

McInerny, who rose to prominence as a blogger (of all things) with her blog Arse­­­ End of Ireland, published an article recently in The Irish Times on Catholicism in contemporary Ireland. This is the second piece that struck me. What she wrote in her article compares favorably with the third piece, which appeared in the Catholic Herald: Jon Anderson's "Post-crash Ireland desperately needs the faith."

McInerny began her piece by pointing out that, according to the 2011 Irish census, 84.2% of people in the Irish Republic "self-identified as Roman Catholic, which would make anyone unfamiliar with our idiosyncrasies assume that we’re a fairly devout bunch." She went on to note curtly, "We are not." She provided a catalogue to support her contention:
Irish people are in favour of divorce, contraception, abortion, marriage equality, IVF, pre-marital sex, the ordination of women priests, Father Ted, and having a few scoops on Good Friday. We also tend to be sceptical of the existence of Hell, the need for celibate clergy, the idea of a virgin birth, transubstantiation, the tenet that we are born in a state of sin, and the assumption that the only way to deal with paedophilic priests is to move them to the next county and hope no one notices
She then proceeded to observe that for her, and a good number of her Irish compatriots, the Church holds nothing but "outdated notions of tradition and creed." Indeed, on 22 May the Irish Republic will hold a national referendum to amend the constitution in order to permit same-sex marriage. What Anderson noted supports McInerny's case: "All the polls are suggesting that the measure will pass easily."

In her newspaper article, McInerny addressed something Archbishop Diarmuid Martin of Dublin dealt with several years ago: baptism (see "Archbishop Martin on acting in accord with conscience"). "We want our newborns baptised," she wrote, "but not a hope in Hackballs Cross are we bringing the scamps to Mass. And if we do we’re definitely ducking out as soon as the priest is distracted by Communion formation."

Anderson began his piece by noting that even though the Republic of Ireland has been in a steep economic decline since 2008 and more recently rocked by political corruption scandals that threaten its once-stables government, the Church "has been so battered by its own scandals that it has had little to say on the state of the nation" and, anyway, it is not "clear that the nation wants to listen to it." He noted a 2013 survey indicated that 34% of Catholics in the Irish Republic attend Mass weekly. While this may seem a promising figure in light of the even lower numbers throughout much of Western Europe, it "is in stark contrast to the figures of over 90 per cent in the 1970s." In the Archdiocese of Dublin weekly Mass participation "currently stands at around 18 per cent." But in the poorest parts of the city, "it is much lower still." He cited Archbishop Martin to the effect that some areas weekly attendance at Mass is as low as 2%.



Circling back to Pope Francis' Apostolic Exhortation, we see from the very beginning that above all else the New Evangelization requires repentance, metanoia, a change of heart and mind:
The great danger in today’s world, pervaded as it is by consumerism, is the desolation and anguish born of a complacent yet covetous heart, the feverish pursuit of frivolous pleasures, and a blunted conscience. Whenever our interior life becomes caught up in its own interests and concerns, there is no longer room for others, no place for the poor. God’s voice is no longer heard, the quiet joy of his love is no longer felt, and the desire to do good fades. This is a very real danger for believers too. Many fall prey to it, and end up resentful, angry and listless. That is no way to live a dignified and fulfilled life; it is not God’s will for us, nor is it the life in the Spirit which has its source in the heart of the risen Christ" (par 2)
The first two sentences of Evangelii Gaudium tell us why the New Evangelization can never be a metericized, corporately-managed, program, or, worse yet, another marketing and/or "branding" enterprise: "The joy of the gospel fills the hearts and lives of all who encounter Jesus. Those who accept his offer of salvation are set free from sin, sorrow, inner emptiness and loneliness. With Christ joy is constantly born anew"(par 1). Joy is what seems to be lacking in the experience of so many when it comes to the Church.

Towards the beginning of Pope Benedict's first encyclical, Deus caritas, he wrote something else that I think is key: "Being Christian is not the result of an ethical choice or a lofty idea, but the encounter with an event, a person, which gives life a new horizon and a decisive direction" (par 1). In other words, to be "evangelized" is to have an experience. Therefore, only those who have been experienced can be evangelizers. Hearkening back to Von Balthasar's brief exposition of esperienza in Dante's Divine Comedy, which, he asserted, Dante used frequently "oscillating between its ancient meaning of 'mystical experience of God,' the even more ancient Irenaean sense of 'experience of grace through experience in the flesh of its opposite' and a third, new sense - 'experiential exploration of reality' - which looks towards modern times" (The Glory of the Lord, Vol III, 12), we have a sound base on which to build- everyday human experience. Only in this way can we hope to overcome what Anderson observed in his article, namely that many Catholics, not just in Ireland, but also in the U.S., "believe in Jesus in the same way that Hindus believe in Gandhi, as an interesting historical figure who said inspiring things."

Who do I think can serve us well as models for the New Evangelization? I propose Flannery O'Connor, Walker Percy, and Jack Kerouac. In addition to Evangelii Gaudium, Johannes Baptist Metz's The Emergent Church: The Future of Christianity in a Post-Bourgeois World can serve as a guide for the New Evangelization.

Great, now I want to watch "Father Ted," about which show Will Gore recently wrote for the Catholic Herald:

Sunday, May 10, 2015

"God is love" and some implications

Reading: Acts 10:25-26.34-35.44-48; Ps 98:1-4; 1 John 4:7-10; John 15:9-17

Our second reading for this Sixth Sunday of Easter, at least to my mind, is perhaps the best scriptural proof of the Blessed Trinity. In this passage we are told, "God is love" (1 John 4:8). This phrase is repeated again eight verses later (1 John 4:16). Lest it become narcissism, love, at a minimum, requires a lover and a beloved. But love that is really love is profuse, that is, not closed in on itself. Therefore, the result of genuine love between two persons is a third person. In Roman Catholic theology, the Holy Spirit is the love between the Father and the Son personified, which is why we confess the Spirit's double procession - "who proceeds from the Father and the Son." It is on this basis that the family (father, mother, and child) is seen as one of the best icons of the Most Holy Trinity.

Francesca da Rimini and Paolo Malatesta appraised by Dante and Virgil, by Ary Scheffer, 1835


In what is probably the most famous vignette from the first part of Dante's Divine Comedy, the Inferno (Canto V, lines 74-141, to be exact), Dante, guided by the great Latin poet Virgil, while in the Second Circle of hell where the lustful are punished, encounters the lovers Paolo and Francesca.

In life Francesca was married to Paolo's older brother Giancotto, who was physically deformed. After finding them, most likely in flagrante delicto, Giancotto killed them both. According to Dante, it was because of their burning lust for one another that they were condemned to be alone together forever. In three brief stanzas, consisting of a mere eight lines (lines 100-107), Dante brilliantly places on the lips of Francesca a description of what condemned them to walk exclusively together forever
Love, quick to kindle in the gentle heart,
seized this one for the beauty of my body,
torn from me. (How it happened still offends me!)

Love, that excuses no one loved from loving,
seized me so strongly with delight in him
that, as you see, he never leaves my side.

Love led us straight to sudden death together.
Caïna awaits the one who quenched our lives (Caïna, a lower part of hell, awaits Paolo's brother, Giancotto, for murdering them- translation by Mark Musa from The Portable Dante, pg 30)
Such an obsessive and closed in relationship is not love, or even really a pale imitation of authentic, self-giving, sacrificial love. Since I quoted from Von Balthasar in my previous post (see "Dante: finite love as a passage to the infinite") to the effect, "Why should a Christian man not love a woman for all eternity and allow himself to be introduced by that woman to a full understanding of what 'eternity' means?", I must clarify what distinguishes love from lust. Put most simply, what differentiates love and lust is the same thing that distinguishes selflessness from selfishness.

Jesus, in today's Gospel, tells us that to love Him is to keep His commandments. First among His commandments is that we love each other as He loves us. He loved us by laying down His life for us. It was the power of love that also brought about His Glorious Resurrection. We love each other as He loves us primarily by sacrificing for the good of each other, laying own interests aside. Genuine, authentic love is never a quid pro quo. Rather, it is complete and utter giving of oneself expecting nothing in return.

Crucifixion, by Anthony van Dyck, ca. 1622


Here's the really challenging and counter-intuitive part: only by loving after the manner of Jesus will your joy ever be complete. To experience complete joy is the very reason for which you were created and redeemed. Experiencing Christ's love first-hand and, in turn, loving selflessly is how you are sanctified, made holy, conformed to the image of Christ.

You're on the right track if you're thinking, "This is hard, maybe even impossible for me." Keep in mind what Jesus told His His disciples as they contemplated the prospect of a camel passing through the eye of a needle: "For human beings it is impossible, but not for God. All things are possible for God" (Mark 10:27). Also, remember what we heard Jesus say to us last Sunday: "without me you can do nothing" (John 15:5b).

Friday, May 8, 2015

Dante: finite love as a passage to the infinite

Immersing myself this afternoon and this evening in reading about Dante I came across a passage in the third volume of Hans Urs Von Balthasar's Glory of the Lord, concerning Beatrice's role in the Divine Comedy. Her role is nothing less than leading Dante (the pilgrim and poet) to God. In the poem she is something like divine wisdom and revelation personified. Balthasar dismissed as "ridiculous" the idea that, while "enriched with symbolic content," Beatrice's role in Dante's masterpiece can be reduced to "only a symbol or allegory" (30). He asserts, "Only dusty academics could fall for something as abstruse as that" (30).

His explanation of the central role Dante's love of Beatrice plays in the Divine Comedy is nothing short of beautiful:
No, the figure of the beloved is a young Florentine girl of flesh and blood. Why should a Christian man not love a woman for all eternity and allow himself to be introduced by that woman to a full understanding of what 'eternity' means? And why should it be so extraordinary - ought one not rather to expect it - that such a love needs, for its total fulfillment, the whole of theology and Heaven, Purgatory, and Hell?

Beatrice and Dante behold God, Paradisio Canto XXII, by Gustave Doré

One can surround the real figure of Beatrice, as also Dante's real life of love, with as many question marks as one wishes. Nevertheless, the principle is established for the first time , and never again so magnificently: for the sake of infinite love, it is not necessary for the Christian to renounce finite love. On the contrary, in a positive spirit, he can incorporate his finite love into that which is infinite - but at the cost of terrible sufferings, as Dante shows us (30)
Keep in mind that Beatrice was not Dante's wife. Dante had a wife with whom he had at two sons, Pietro and Jacopo, and at least one, possibly two, daughters. Dante's wife's name was Gemma. As for Beatrice, she was the wife of another man. However, Dante's marriage to Gemma and, most likely, Beatrice's marriage were arranged marriages. It seems that Dante knew Beatrice from the age of 9. Beatrice died quite young and became for Dante the personification beauty, truth, and goodness. Like friendship in the classical sense, the kind of love Dante had for Beatrice is extremely rare, especially in the West, if not altogether extinct.

Our late Friday traditio is Francis Poulenc's Gloria from his Mass in G Minor:

Tuesday, May 5, 2015

Dante Alighieri and "esperienza"

More important than yesterday being "Star Wars Day" ("May the fourth be with you" and all that) was the fact that, in the Italian Senate, Cardinal Gianfranco Ravasi, who serves as President of the Pontifical Council for Culture, read a letter (currently available only in Italian- you can read the Vatican news story here) from Pope Francis commemorating the 750th anniversary of the birth of il Sommo Poeta (i.e., "the Supreme Poet"), Durante degli Alighieri, known simply as "Dante". Indeed, reckoning from the evidence that is available, it is believed that Dante was most likely born in 1265, but that is not certain.

I did not know until today that Pope Benedict XV wrote an entire encyclical on Dante: In Praeclara Summorum. This encyclical, subtitled, "On Dante to Professors and Students of Literature in the Catholic World," was promulgated 30 April 1921, to mark the 600th anniversary of the Supreme Poet's death (we're rapidly approaching the 700th anniversary in 2021). Then there was Bl Pope Paul VI's Apostolic Letter Altissimi cantus (available only in Latin). Papa Montini promulgated this letter on 7 December 1965, the day before he formally closed the Second Vatican Ecumenical Council.

La Divina Commedia di Dante, by Domenico di Michelino, 1465, fresco in the cathedral of Florence, Santa Maria del Fiore


In his letter, Pope Francis recommends reading the Divine Comedy as a way of observing the Extraordinary Jubilee of Mercy he will inaugurate on 8 December 2015, the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception, which, this year, will mark the 50th anniversary of the close of the Second Vatican Council. In his letter to the Italian Senate, the Holy Father wrote, "the Comedy may be read as a great itinerary, or rather as a true pilgrimage, both personal and interior, and communal, ecclesial, social and historical. It represents the paradigm of every authentic journey in which humanity is called upon to leave what Dante defines as 'the threshing-floor that makes us so ferocious' to attain a new condition, marked by harmony, peace and happiness. And this is the horizon of every true humanism."

So, with the help of Hans Urs Von Balthasar, who began the third volume of his theological aesthetics, The Glory of the Lord: Studies in Theological Styles: Lay Styles, with Dante Alighieri, and Rod Dreher, whose recently published book, How Dante Can Save Your Life: The Life-Changing Wisdom of History's Greatest Poem, I just picked up, I plan to follow the Holy Father's recommendation and seriously re-engage The Divine Comedy. I am not going to wait until December, however.

It is worth citing Von Balthasar extensively on Dante:
Others may have been caught up to God in ecstasy, but no one else has undertaken a methodical exploration of Paradise or acquired esperienza of the hereafter. This last word - esperienza - recurs frequently, oscillating between its ancient meaning of 'mystical experience of God,' the even more ancient Irenaean sense of 'experience of grace through experience in the flesh of its opposite' and a third, new sense - 'experiential exploration of reality' - which looks towards modern times. There is, of course, a long tradition, both in Antiquity and in the Christian era, of journeys to the hereafter, of transcendental adventure stories and reports of ecstatic experience. However, Dante should be seen in stark contrast to this whole literary tradition because of his awareness, both theological and aesthetic, that he was setting down something that had never existed before and that in its own way is inimitable, a work that raises him high above his own age, plants him in the future (s'infutura la tua vita), in eternity itself (s'eterna) (Glory of the Lord, Vol III, 12)
This article from the Holy See's newspaper L'Osservatore Romano, which appeared on St Patrick's Day this year, "The poet of theologians and the theologian of poets: Giovanni Battista Montini and his passion for Dante," noted, "A clear sign of Paul VI’s passion for Dante is the gift he gave to the conciliar Fathers at Vatican ii: a special edition of the Divine Comedy."

Sunday, May 3, 2015

Year B Fifth Sunday of Easter

Readings: Acts 9:26-31; Ps 22:26-28.30-32; 1 John 3:18-24; John 15:1-8

In our Gospel today we heard Jesus say- “Just as a branch cannot bear fruit on its own unless it remains on the vine, so neither can you unless you remain in me” (John 15:4b). Of the many questions prompted by our readings for this Fifth Sunday of Easter, it seems to me that perhaps the most urgent question we need to explore is, How do we remain “in” Jesus?

Yesterday, I explained to our 17 First Communicants that the word com- union means “union with.” Holy Communion is how Jesus unites us to Himself by the power of the Holy Spirit. To receive Holy Communion also means being united with each other by the power of that same Spirit. We have one word to describe everyone who is joined together by Christ in Holy Communion and that word is “Church”. So, the primary means of being “in” Christ are the sacraments. All of the sacraments flow out from and back to the Eucharist. Without the nourishment we receive by participating in and partaking of the Eucharist frequently, we are like branches cut off from the vine, which, as we all know, quickly wither and dry up.



Many of our non-Catholic Christian sisters and brothers talk about the importance of having a personal relationship with Jesus. As Catholics we ought to agree with them about this. Can you think of how you might possibly have a more personal, more intimate, relationship with our Lord than by receiving Him in Holy Communion? But the Eucharist demonstrates that our relationship with Christ also has a communal dimension. After all, we don’t celebrate Mass alone. We come together to celebrate what the Father has done for us in Christ Jesus by the power of the Holy Spirit. We read the Scriptures, pray for our needs and those of our parish, especially those who are sick or in need, as well as for those who have died. We also pray for our diocese, the whole Church, and the whole world.

In addition to being primary way we love with all our heart, might, mind, and strength, it is our participation in the Eucharist that enables and empowers us to keep Jesus’ second commandment- to love your neighbor as you love yourself.

In our second reading, from the First Letter of John, we learn what it means to keep Jesus’ commandments and so do what pleases Him. “And his commandment is this: we should believe in the name of his Son, Jesus Christ, and love one another just as he commanded us” (1 John 3:23). This, too, is how we remain “in” Christ, but in order to love “in deed and truth,” we need the grace we receive in and through the sacraments.



Grace is a word we hear a lot in Church. Sometimes when we use words a lot the meaning is lost, or becomes watered down, through frequent repetition. Grace is nothing other than God sharing divine life with us. When we receive Holy Communion with a clear conscience, that is, a conscience unburdened by serious sin, which unburdening happens in the Sacrament of Penance, we are infused with divine life. By this infusion we are filled with the Holy Spirit. As Jesus tells us in our Gospel, the vine bears branches and the branches, in turn, bear the fruit. According St Paul, the fruits of the Spirit are: “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control” (Gal 5:22-23).

Our first reading from the Acts of the Apostles gives us a very concrete example of how to love through what we do. Before becoming a Christian, which happened as the result of the resurrected Lord appearing to him while he was on his way to Damascus, Saul, who we also know as Paul (Saul was likely his given, Jewish, name and Paul his name as a Roman citizen), persecuted Jewish Christians in Jerusalem. His persecution of Christians there culminated with the stoning of St Stephen, the Church’s first martyr and one of the first seven deacons selected by the apostles to assist them in ministry. The reason Paul was going to Damascus was to continue his persecution there.

Based on this, it is easy to see why, when Paul returned to Jerusalem from Damascus, the Christians there were both scared and suspicious of him. But Barnabas, who became a close friend and associate of Paul during his first missionary travels, loved Paul and trusted God by giving Paul the benefit of the doubt and taking his side. Barnabas had Paul meet with the apostles and vouched for the authenticity of Paul’s conversion, mentioning how Paul “had spoken out boldly in the name of Jesus” while in Damascus (Acts 9:27), and no doubt assured the apostles that their former persecutor was not pulling some elaborate ruse by only pretending to be converted in order to then turn around and persecute the Church more effectively.

After being accepted by the apostles, Paul began move around Jerusalem, speaking out boldly in the name of Jesus, as he had done in Damascus. In doing so, he ran afoul of the Hellenists. In an ironic twist, these Hellenists are the same group with whom Stephen argued. As one commentator put it, Paul came “back to Jerusalem to finish the argument with the Hellenists that Stephen had started,” by so doing, Paul provoked “the same violent response” as had Stephen (Loveday Alexander, “Acts,” The Oxford Bible Commentary, 1040). In the face of this danger, not only Barnabas, but the entire Christian community in Jerusalem came to the aid of their former persecutor. They removed him from harm’s way by taking him to the Mediterranean coast and booking him passage back to his hometown of Tarsus. This is an example of loving our enemy, as Jesus taught us to do.

St Barnabas

Dorothy Day, one of the founders of the Catholic Worker Movement, who, like Paul, experienced a very dramatic and unlikely conversion, once observed, “there is nothing we can do but love, and, dear God, please enlarge our hearts to love each other, to love our neighbor, to love our enemy as our friend.” While these are words with which we would all agree, we all know how truly difficult it is to love someone, to forgive someone, who has harmed us.

How do we receive the strength to live, the strength to love, in this grace-filled way? We receive the strength to live and to love by being connected to our life-giving branch, Jesus Christ. Our reception of the sacraments, especially of the Eucharist, is what unites us to Him and to each other by the power of the Holy Spirit, who is the Spirit of the Father and the Son. Because of this we can rejoice, as we did in our Psalm response- “I will praise you, Lord, in the assembly of your people.”

Saturday, May 2, 2015

First Communion Mass

My homily for First Holy Communion Mass today is my first time preaching at my new parish. This is a significant event for me. I hope and pray that receiving our Lord for the first time is a significant event for those who received it today. As with everything in ministry, it was both my privilege and pleasure to preach, one I thank my new pastor for extending to me.

___________________________________________________________________________________ Readings: Acts 2:42-47; Ps 34; John 6:51-58

Dialogue:

How many of you are given vocabulary lists at school? How many of you enjoy learning the meaning of new words? Here's quick quiz: As Catholics, what do we mean when we use the word "communion"?

The prefix com, in the word com- union is Latin meaning "with." "Union" is the act by which are joined together with something or someone. So, com-munion means “union with.” Holy Communion is union with Jesus and with everyone else who receives communion. We have one word to describe everyone who receives communion and that word is “Church”.

Today when you receive your First Communion, Jesus will join you to Himself, by the power of the Holy Spirit, and being joined to Jesus means becoming fully part of His Body, the Church.

In Holy Communion Jesus gives Himself to you body, blood, soul, and divinity. This is what Jesus meant when He said these words: “Amen, amen, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have life within you. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink” (John 6:53b-55). What does that mean?

It means in communion Jesus gives you all of Himself, not holding anything back. In return, Jesus asks you to give yourself to Him body, blood, soul, and humanity, which means giving yourself completely to Him, not holding anything back. The saints show us how to give ourselves entirely to Jesus.



Receiving communion is a privilege, which is why we say these words before we receive Holy Communion: “Lord I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.” What’s really cool is that Jesus will always say the word that heals you and helps you. Knowing that should make you want to receive Holy Communion often.

Jesus asks you to come to Mass and receive communion each and every Sunday. Jesus said, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments” (John 14:15). Participating in Mass each and every Sunday is the way you fulfill two of the 10 Commandments- the commands to worship God and to keep the sabbath (Ex 20:3. 8-11; Deut 5:7.12-15)- and Jesus’ commandment to love God with all your heart, might, mind, and strength (Matt 22:37; Mark 12:30; Luke 10:27). In addition to demonstrating your love for God, the graces you receive in Holy Communion also enables and empowers you to keep Jesus’ second commandment- to love your neighbor as you love yourself.

By becoming a full member of Jesus’ Body, the Church, which happens when you receive Holy Communion, Jesus entrusts His mission to you. What is Jesus’ mission? To share the truth of the Gospel, the love of God, by how you live your life.

From the very beginning of the Church, as we heard in the very first verse of our first reading, those who follow Jesus have “devoted themselves to the teaching of the apostles and to the communal life, to the breaking of the bread and to the prayers” (Acts 2:42). Today is very special. It is a day to celebrate and to remember, which is why we’re having a party afterwards. But the best way to celebrate and remember today is by participating in the life of our parish. The center of our parish life is Sunday Mass.

Friday, May 1, 2015

"The time to rise has been engaged"

1 May is International Workers' Day. For Roman Catholics, at least since 1955, 1 May is the Feast of St Joseph the Worker. It was in 1955 that Bl Pius XII instituted this feast that helps us to keep from disconnecting Jesus from every day life. Like St Joseph, our Lord was a carpenter, in Greek, a tekton, that is, a worker.

1 May (1933) is also when Servant of God Dorothy Day and Peter Maurin founded the Catholic Worker Movement, which has persisted, as much as existed, ever since. It is a Catholic movement that needs to be better known and its principles, which are the principles of the Church's social magisterium, more fully embraced and lived out by Catholics, especially in the United States.

Servant of God Dorothy Day, pray for us
What we would like to do is change the world--make it a little simpler for people to feed, clothe, and shelter themselves as God intended them to do. And, by fighting for better conditions, by crying out unceasingly for the rights of the workers, the poor, of the destitute--the rights of the worthy and the unworthy poor, in other words--we can, to a certain extent, change the world; we can work for the oasis, the little cell of joy and peace in a harried world. We can throw our pebble in the pond and be confident that its ever widening circle will reach around the world. We repeat, there is nothing we can do but love, and, dear God, please enlarge our hearts to love each other, to love our neighbor, to love our enemy as our friend- Dorothy Day
In honor of today, our Friday traditio is REM's "Finest Work Song," which was the first song on their outstanding Document album:



The time to rise has been engaged
You'd better best to rearrange
I'm talking here to me alone
I listen to the finest worksong

St Joseph the Worker, pray for us

"Rend the veil and we shall sail"

As I slowly and by God's grace begin to emerge from my doldrums, hoping and praying for a better second half of 2026, today's tradit...