" a grateful leper at your feet"

As both of my readers know, I endeavor to observe Friday as a day of penance. Maybe this is because I need to do penance that often. However, I do so out of love and with gratitude for what Jesus accomplished on his glorious cross and not out some misguided sense that God, who is goodness, is displeased with me. I am aware that I cannot earn God's favor. I always already have God's favor. Jesus is the proof of this. But even when I have done all Jesus calls me do (something that rarely happens), I remain, as he insisted in last Sunday's Gospel (see Luke 17:5-10), an unprofitable servant who has only done what is best described as the minimum. I think this as much to do with motivation than execution. In other words, how often do I do what Jesus ask of me out of a sense of obligation instead out of genuine love of neighbor?

Somehow, by the grace of God, I live in the pretty constant awareness of God's love for me as it is expressed in the life, teaching, passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus. This is awareness is a gift of the Spirit, whom the Lord sent after his ascension in fulfillment of his promise not leave his followers orphaned. Quite literally, this awareness has saved my life.

It is the by the Holy Spirit's power, which effects the sacraments, most especially in this regard the Eucharist, that Jesus comes not only to be among us in some inchoate way but to dwell in us. Because of this, Jesus is not "out there" but in me, desiring to live his resurrected through me. Jesus-in-me does not obliterate my personhood. Rather, he completes it, making me the person I am created and redeemed me to be.

Looking forward to this Sunday's readings, which tells of Jesus's healing of ten lepers (see Luke 17:11-19), here's a little snippet from what I plan to preach:

Just as he does with the lepers in today’s Gospel, Jesus unfailingly takes pity on us. He shows us the mercy of God time and time again. As Pope Francis said: you will grow tired of confessing your sins way before God will grow tired of forgiving you. God never grows tired of being merciful because God never grows tired of being God. Jesus is the mercy of God. As someone who has received God’s mercy, the issue becomes whether you take it for granted or you are grateful, like the one leper who came back to thank Jesus for healing him.

Our gratitude is shown by becoming merciful, that is, full of mercy ourselves.

Continuing my contemporary Christian music (CCM) jag, our traditio is a repeat, albeit from several years ago. Casting Crowns singing "Jesus, Friend of Sinners" strikes me as utterly appropriate for today's traditio.

Another "take" for Evening Prayer I- Sunday, Week III

Reading: John 11:17-27

At St. Olaf Parish, where I am privileged to serve, we use this Gospel passage for most funerals. While proclaiming this Gospel at a funeral of a beloved parishioner this past summer, I was struck by the realization that this dialogue between Jesus and Martha takes place at Lazarus's "graveside," as it were.

Isn't it standing at the side of the grave of a loved one during a committal service that our faith is perhaps tested most severely?

At the foundation of Christian faith, of course, is the belief in Jesus's resurrection, his rising from the dead. In other words, we profess him as "the resurrection and the life." This evening, as we remember the beloved dead of our diocesan diaconal community, Jesus asks us, again, concerning his resurrection: "Do you believe this?"

Several years ago, a dear friend who professes no particular faith, in the wake of the painful death of someone she loved, asked me: "How is it possible to believe in life after death with any confidence?"

After I gave her what I thought was a pretty decent theological, that is, abstract, answer about faith leading to hope and hope being trust more than it is mere wishing, I found myself explaining to her that it is important to experience dying and rising for yourself in order for believing in life after death to be an act of trust instead of mere wishing.

One form of diakonia, one service, one ministry we are called to engage in, is bearing witness to the hope of everlasting life. We do this by entrusting ourselves completely to Jesus, in whose diaconate we are privileged to share.

Concretely, we meet others in their need, as Jesus meets Martha’s in our Gospel reading. We meet others at the graveside, or wherever death seems present in their lives, with no ulterior motive, just with love and compassion. This is what it means to act- in a phrase used by Archbishop Jose Gomez- in persona Christi servi (i.e., in the person of Christ the servant).

Because we are not Jesus, we must allow him to meet our deepest need so we can meet others in their need. This is how believing that he is the resurrection and life ceases to be a wish and becomes hope. And so, at the end of this day on which the Church remembered Saint Faustina, Apostle of Divine Mercy, let us reaffirm: "Jesus, I trust in You."

Week III Sunday, Evening Prayer I

This is a reflection I prepared for Evening Prayer on Saturday of the annual retreat for deacons of the Diocese of Salt Lake City. The reading is the one for Sunday, Evening Prayer I, Week III of the four-week Psalter. However, we used a Gospel reading instead to commemorate our dearly departed brothers and sisters (wives of deacons). I prepared a reflection for that reading too. Since I wrote this, I did not want to "waste" it. As always, for what it's worth.

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Reading: Hebrews 13:20-21

What is pleasing to God that he wishes to carry out in you?

Reflecting on Scripture prompts these kinds of questions. What is significant about this question is that it can’t be answered, at least not with any specificity, by anyone other than God. Another beautiful thing about this question is that God isn’t going to tell anyone but you the answer.

On a general level, we are a community of Christians committed to the service of others in Jesus’s name for the sake of God’s kingdom. This kind of service is best described as diakonia. Because of this we know we are called to serve. How best to serve each day?

By virtue of her baptism, every Christian is called to engage in diakonia. Just as there is a priesthood of all the baptized, there is a diaconate of the all the baptized. Hence, diakonia is an inherent part of any spirituality that flies under the banner of Christ.

In an Angelus address during the first year of his pontificate, Pope Francis insisted: “A prayer that does not lead you to practical action for your brother [or sister] — the poor, the sick, those in need of help, [someone] in difficulty — is a sterile and incomplete prayer...”¹

My dear sisters and brothers, I urge each one of you to ask God through Christ in the power of their Spirit daily what specific service he is pleased to have you carry out. Your diaconate requires no less of you. Your faithfulness to this daily summons to service is what makes you a deacon, a servant.

Jesus is among us as “the one who serves.”² He calls on us, by grace given in ordination, to act in his very person. To act in persona Christi servi - in the person of Christ the servant.³

For the seven men chosen to serve tables in the earliest Christian community in Jerusalem, the Church established two-fold criteria: be “filled with the Spirit and wisdom.”⁴ Wisdom is to ask the Lord daily what service he wishes to carry out in you. It is the Spirit who enables us to carry out what Christ asks us to do.

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1 Pope Francis, Sunday General Audience, 21 July 2013.^↩
2 Luke 22:27.^↩
3 For in persona Christi servi- see Archbishop Jose Gomez’s Foreword to James Keating’s The Heart of the Diaconate: Communion with the Servant Mysteries of Christ, x.^↩
4 Acts 6:3.^↩

Saint Francis, my brother deacon

At the risk of sounding a bit blasphemous, it seems pretty safe to assert that next to Jesus himself Saint Francis of Assisi is the best known Christian figure in the world and of all-time. Francis is revered by Catholics and non-Catholics alike. Primarily because of his love and care for all of creation, he is even held in high regard by quite a few agnostics and non-believers. Francis lived from the late twelfth to the early-thirteenth century (AD 1181/1182-1226).

In my view, Francesco Bernadone demonstrates a thesis very close to my own heart: that all authentically Christian spirituality is inherently diaconal. This means that identifying as a Christian orients you toward service to others in Jesus name and for the sake of God's kingdom. However, this motivation does not constitute an ulterior motive. Rather, a Christian must truly love her neighbors as they are and because they are, seeing in each person the imago Dei, which is ineradicable even in the person who seems committed to doing evil.

Saint Francis of Assisi, by Jusepe Ribera, 1642

As a Christian, you love God with the entirety of your being by loving your neighbor as you love yourself. This does not mean that you must have deeply affectionate feelings for every person you encounter, at least not up-front. Let's be honest, if you wait for that to happen, you can easily justify never serving anyone. What it means is that when you encounter someone in need, you help him/her. Very often it is by seeing someone's need and endeavoring to help that particular person in those specific circumstances that affection arises in your heart. As with so many things, we often get this backwards.

We are all impoverished beggars. Francis understood that in Christ God took pity on our nothingness. In imitation of Jesus, this not something Francis so much taught as it was how he lived. This is something he demonstrated clearly and umabiguously when he very publicly renounced his father's wealth and the privilege that went along with it. He deliberately sought to live a materially impoverished life in order to live a truly rich life. It was his commitment to poverty and humility, which constitute the foundation of simplicity, that drew people to follow him. Francis insisted that those who followed him (later they became known as "Franciscans"- he died outside of the Franciscan order) have no rule of life except that of the Gospel. Francis simply sought to live out the teachings of Jesus Christ in a straightforward and concrete way. By doing so, he bears witness across centuries what it means to say, "Jesus is Lord."

Eventually, Francis was ordained a deacon. His life of service was certainly diaconal in its essence and to its core. He was not merely a good deacon, Francesco was the very embodiment of the diakonia to which all Christians are called. Practically, he became a deacon so that he could be licensed to preach. While the saying "Go and preach the Gospel today and if you must use words" is likely not something Francis ever said, it stands as a good summary of how he lived. Really, it is a concise definition of diakonia, a word that means "service." Preaching the Gospel by serving others, especially those in need is the diakonia of Christ.

Our Friday traditio is Sarah McLachlan beautifully singing the always timely "Prayer of Saint Francis"-

Saint Francis, committed disciple of Jesus Christ and exemplary deacon, on this your feast day, pray for us! I ask your prayers in a special way for the deacons of the Diocese of Salt Lake City as we gather for our annual retreat, which starts this afternoon.

Year C Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings: Amos 6:1a.4-7; Ps 146:7-10; 1 Tim 6:11-16; Luke 16:19-31

In our second reading from 1 Timothy, we are urged to “Lay hold of eternal life.”¹ Translated a bit more literally, we are urged, “lay hold of the life of the Age.”² This refers to the age to come when God’s kingdom will be fully established.

What it means to “lay hold of the life of the Age” to come is to live in such a way as to make yourself fit for that age. This reading also gives instruction on how to do this: “pursue righteousness, devotion, faith, love, patience, and gentleness.”³ Baptism and confirmation are alluded to when the inspired author reminds his readers of the faith they professed before witnesses, which commits them to “keep the commandment without stain or reproach.”⁴

What is the commandment to be kept? It is nothing other than the commandment to love: loving God with your entire being by loving your neighbor as you love yourself. In our Gospel this week, Jesus teaches us in startling terms the importance of living this way. According to Jesus, your neighbor is the person whom you encounter who needs your help. You don’t have to go to Calcutta, India and spend time with the Missionaries of Charity to find people who need your help. There are plenty of people right here in our community who need your assistance.

In our first reading, the prophet Amos rebuked the wealthy of the Northern Kingdom for putting their comfort and luxury before the needs of the poor. Jesus echoes this prophetic call in today’s Gospel. His teaching is a provocation. Keep in mind that “provocation” is a compound word: pro- meaning “for”- + vocation- meaning “calling”- = for your calling. This refers to your God-given calling. A genuine provocation, then, is one that helps you fulfill your calling.

For Christians, there is essentially one vocation, one call: to become holy by becoming like Jesus Christ. You received this call when you were baptized. It was confirmed when you were confirmed. This call is renewed in every Eucharist. At the end of each Mass, you are sent forth to fulfill your divine calling. As Jesus’s disciple, one of the primary ways you do this is by helping those in need.

In the Confiteor, which we said together at the beginning of Mass, we expressed sorrow for “what I have failed to do.”⁵ These are “sins of omission.” Sometimes it is not so much that we choose what is evil as it is that we actively choose not to do good. Today’s readings are as straightforward as they are challenging; they don't require a lot of interpretation. As Christians our lives should bear witness to the fact that Jesus Christ is risen from the dead. In anticipation of his glorious return, rather than drowning ourselves in an ocean of recrimination for our sins of omission, let’s each of us prepare ourselves and the world for the Age to come by committing to help those in need on an on-going basis.

Among the things you might consider are volunteering at the Bountiful Food Pantry or with the Ladies of Charity. You may also consider becoming involved with our Council of Catholic Women or Knights of Columbus council. Perhaps you can become an Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion, taking Communion to the sick and home-bound. Maybe you can sing in the choir. This, too, is service to others for the sake of God’s kingdom. If you can, in addition to supporting our parish, commit to financially supporting local, national, and international charities on an on-going basis in a sacrificial way.

By sacrificial, I mean something like taking your lunch a few times a week or doing without that nice cup of coffee and donating what you would spend on those to help people in need. Perhaps you can help someone in your neighborhood or in our parish with yard work, fall clean-up, etc. Taking time to serve others comes at the sacrifice of not being able to engage in other activities you’d like to pursue. This prompts the question, What are my priorities? As Christians, it’s important to find ways to put the needs of others before your own comfort and luxury.

In light of these readings, it seems good to be reminded that as Catholics we observe Friday as a day of penance. Just as every Sunday is a celebration of Easter, each Friday, excepting those on which a Solemnity falls, is Good Friday. Friday is the day Christ sacrificed himself on our behalf, thus giving us a model to imitate.

As Catholics in the United States, our bishops teach us that we observe Friday as a day of penance in two ways: by abstaining from the meat of warm-blooded animals, which is obligatory on Fridays of Lent, or performing a charitable act. Performing a charitable act means something like going out of your way to help someone in need at some inconvenience and/or cost to yourself.

Traditional Catholic practices, like observing Friday as a penitential day, are time-tested ways for living as Christians. Adhering to these practices in your daily life is how you strive to make yourself fit for the age to come; it is how you make God’s kingdom a present reality; it is how you turn the “not yet” into the “right here and now,” thus giving hope to a world that desperately needs it.

That Amos was a farmer and Jesus was a carpenter (in Greek tekton) lend credibility to the words of St. Bernard of Clairvaux: “Learn the lesson that, if you are to do the work of a prophet, what you need is not a scepter but a hoe.”⁶ As someone who adhered to the Rule of St. Benedict, the watchwords of Bernard’s life were, Ora et labora (i.e., “Pray and work”). This lovely three-word summary of life in Christ is made more explicit by these words of Pope Francis: “A prayer that does not lead you to practical action for your brother [or sister] — the poor, the sick, those in need of help, [someone] in difficulty — is a sterile and incomplete prayer...”⁷

Just so, worship that does not lead to service, to diakonia, is not Christian worship.

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1 1 Timothy 6:12.^↩
2 1 Timothy 6:12 from The New Testament: A Translation, trans. David Bentley Hart, 422.^↩
3 1 Timothy 6:11.^↩
4 1 Timothy 6:14.^↩
5 Roman Missal, "The Order of Mass," sec. 4.^↩
6 Found in Celebration of Discipline: The Path to Spiritual Growth, by Richard Foster, 126.^↩
7 Pope Francis, Sunday General Audience, 21 July 2013.^↩

Memorial of Saint Vincent de Paul

Yesterday I had the privilege of preaching at the weekly Mass for our parish school. It was the obligatory Memorial of Saint Vincent de Paul. For pastoral reasons, we use the first reading, responsorial Psalm, and Gospel of the upcoming Sunday. In this instance, there are no readings in all the lectionary that would be more fitting for the Church's remembrance of this great saint.

I began by asking the children some questions. Because I am uptight like that I put the answers in brackets. Anyway, what follows is my homily. It's important for me to laugh at my own uptightness.

So I don't leave you with the wrong impression about being uptight, I don't exactly follow the script. I add to or change things while preaching depending what I perceive as the assembly's response. In this instance, the dialogue at the beginning went very well. So I expanded it a bit. I am relieved it went well because I am not great at preparing homilies for children.

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Readings: Amos 6:1a.4-7; Ps 146-7-10; Luke 16:19-31

How many of you love Jesus?

Knowing your faith should inform how you live your life. Catholic children used to learn our faith by memorizing answers to questions. So, this morning I am going to ask you guys a few questions, okay?

How many commandments did God give to Moses? [10]

How many commandments did Jesus give us? [2]

What two commandments did Jesus give us? [“You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your being, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself”- (Luke 10:27)]

Saint Vincent de Paul

What was Jesus’s main point in the Gospel reading we just heard? [importance of serving the poor]

How you love God is by loving your neighbor. It’s important to know that your neighbor isn’t just the person sitting next you or the people who live next door. Jesus teaches that your neighbor is the person you encounter how needs your help. Elsewhere in the New Testament we learn that if we say love God whom we have not seen and do not love our neighbor we are dishonest. In fact, if this is our attitude, Scripture says we are liars (1 John 4:20). So, in today’s Gospel Lazarus was rich man’s neighbor. How did the rich man treat Lazarus? Did he treat him like a neighbor?

Today the Church remembers a great saint: St. Vincent de Paul (1581-1660). St. Vincent was a saint because he loved Jesus by loving his neighbors. As a priest, St. Vincent recognized that his neighbors were the poor people of Paris. As a result, he set about serving them, working to ensure they had food, clothing, and shelter. He organized other Christians to assist the poor, not just in Paris but in many places.

It’s important for us to remember that St. Vincent had an influence on St. Olaf parish and school. Vincent founded a religious order of men: the Congregation of the Mission, or Vincentians. He also founded a religious order of women: the Daughters of Charity. It was the Daughters of Charity who started St Olaf school. The Daughters of Charity served at our school for many years. It was their concern to hand on the Christian faith to young people right here in Bountiful, Utah so that the love of Jesus would continue to be shown to those in need everywhere.

In his care for the poor, St. Vincent gives us the counterexample to the rich man in today’s Gospel, who ignored Lazarus as he suffered day after day right outside his door. In this St. Vincent shows us how to love Jesus by loving our neighbors, keeping in mind that our neighbors are those people who need our help.

"Sing His praises once more"

When/if we ever start Charismatic Masses in English again in our local Church, Rich Mullins's "Sing Your Praise to the Lord" would be a good opening or closing song. Of course, this would require plenty of enthusiastic pre-Mass praise and worship to warm-up. If you don't like charismatic expressions of Christian faith, this probably isn't the post for you.

Another dreamy aspiration would be to assist Fr. Raniero Cantalamessa, OFMCap, as he presides at such a Mass! Of course, Rich & Brennan (Manning) would be jamming with us ragamuffins in the communion of saints.

Listening to Amy Grant sing this song this week recalled to my mind that moment in October 31 years ago when, kneeling before a crucifix, I gave my heart to Jesus. In that moment I said to Him something like, "Lord, I want to follow you wherever you lead me." You see, I was lonely and miserable in that moment. Jesus met me in my need in a way I can't describe. He's been with me ever since. I can say without hesitation, if He were not with me I would not be writing this or anything else. While nothing changed right away, it's amazing what happened over the next two years.

What a journey He's taking me on. Sure, sometimes the road goes through the Valley of the Shadow Death but Jesus, who is the Lord of that and of all valleys, is with me. He never says, "Come on, Scott, you're falling behind." He patiently walks back to accompany me. Sometimes we sit on the side of the road while I recover. At such times we just sit together. I don't mind saying, He often lets me rest my head on His shoulder.

Our Friday traditio is from "back in the day," as it were. We were young and loved Jesus. Hey- "The Life goes on and so must the song." I don't want to go back and be a young, idealistic (perhaps overly idealistic) and immature Christian again (not that I am a fully mature Christian yet). No, re-listening to songs from my early days of belief allows me to gain a whole new appreciation for my faith, the miracle of it, and that enthusiasm I had. I hope of all those wonderful experiences have borne some fruit over 30+ years. Listening to songs like "Sing Your Praise to the Lord" is like coming back after a journey of some distance, one that took awhile. It's my recognition that somehow, by the grace of God, I have not forsaken my first love, at least never entirely (Rev. 2:4). In my own weak and faltering way, I striven to remain faithful to this vow.

As the song exhorts: "You gotta sing, again, the song born in your soul when you first gave your heart to Him."

I love the mash-up at the end. Of course, we didn't call it that back then, but it's pretty great.