Let the Silence Wake You (1st Sunday of Advent, Year A)

To listen to this homily, click here.

Until the early 1980’s, the city of Pittsburgh had numerous steel mills which hammered out the city’s signature product day and night. The people near them got so used to the constant pounding that they slept through it. In fact, it lulled them to sleep. But one night an accident shut down one of the major mills. The pounding noise of production and business stopped. Guess what happened when there was nothing but silence? Everyone woke up!

Something like that needs to happen in our lives. We are surround by such noise and distraction that we have become like sleepwalkers, always in motion but not fully aware and alert. Such a state can be very dangerous! A recent estimate indicated the average American is exposed to anywhere from 6-10 thousand ads a day. Most prominent are the never-ending ads online and on social media; the scores of pop-ups and junk emails that are customized to our browsing history and previous purchases. There are still numerous ads and invitations on billboards and in print, on the sides of packages and even on clothing, in magazines and newspapers. The more passive and sleepy we are, the greater the ad’s impact. A couch potato or web surfer has little sales resistance to the impulse buy. 

As we begin Advent, Jesus is telling us to wake up. In today’s Gospel he invites people to get ready for the Second Coming. However, he does not warn them first about grave sins against the commandments, but rather about being too busy. He reminds them how, before the Flood, those that perished “were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage up to the day that Noah entered the ark." Those are normal, necessary, even praiseworthy activities - but they lulled people to sleep, a fatal sleep that rendered them unprepared when the flood came.

For most Americans December is the busiest month of the year. That busy-ness creates a dread which advertisers exploit. How often are we tempted to buy this one thing to give us more time, make our lives easier, or bring the calm and peace we desire? Why not go ahead and indulge, treat yourself, and then you will be happy?! So many products and services compete for our attention and money in a relentless cycle that is exhausting.

Surrounded as we are by soul-numbing noise and distraction and busyness, there is only one thing which can pull us back to life - the same thing which woke up the people of Pittsburgh: silence. Genuine silence can profoundly turn our life around and it was a key player in one of the  most pivotal moments of my life.

One of the most common things people ask me is how I received the call to become a priest. I can sum it up in one word: silence. I went on a weekend retreat with some high school friends during my freshman year. It was actually the final evening of the retreat and we were watching a movie together before driving back to St. Louis the next morning. During that movie, I felt something stirring inside, telling me to go to the chapel, to sit with God alone for a few moments. In that chapel, surrounded in silence by the presence of God, I heard his voice in my heart simply saying, “feed my sheep” and to do so as a priest. In the silence that call could be heard loud and clear. It was not something I heard with my ears but knew without a doubt in my heart. I have had my good days and bad days, my lazy days and crazy days, but I have always known this is what God wants me to do with my life. For me it began in a moment of profound silence and I go back to that encounter often for encouragement and comfort. Silence provided the space for God speak to me one-on-one, with nothing and no-one else between us.

 

Another man received his calling while alone, this time in a garden rather than a chapel. He was attracted to God, but always held back. For example, he famously prayed, “Lord, give me chastity, but not yet” because he enjoyed his sins so much, even as he knew, deep down, he was made for much more than passing pleasures. Then, in a moment of silence, Augustine heard a voice which said, Tolle et legge (take and read). At first he thought it was a child calling out in the garden and tried to tried to remember what children’s game had those words, take and read. But when he realized he was completely alone, he opened the Bible and fell on the verse we heard in today's second reading: "Not in carousing and drunkenness, not in sexual excess and lust, not in quarreling and jealousy. Rather, put on the Lord Jesus Christ and make no provision for the desires of the flesh.”

When he read those words he made a complete turnaround. Without reserve he dedicated his life to God, by following his law and explaining it to others. He became one of the most influential teachers the Church has ever known. St. Augustine continues to inspire many to this day and he enjoys eternal happiness with God in heaven. The catalyst for his greatness and his conversion began with the gift of God’s grace, which finally broke through his resistance, in silence. 

This Advent we recognize our time is short, that the moment to wake up has arrived. Now is the time to seek out a place of true silence to rouse our sleepy hearts and hear what God has been trying to say. Do not be afraid to enter the silence and to sit there for awhile, as awkward as it may feel. God has a personal message for you, an invitation, a word of hope, healing, and encouragement. May we give highest priority to making time and space for this sacred silence, knowing that it will lead to our highest happiness and reveal our role in God’s saving plan for the world! 

Jesus Reigns Over All (Christ the King, Year C)

 To listen to this homily, click here.

We humans tend to mark the beginning and end of things with special celebrations or ceremonies. Whether it is the birth of a child, graduation from high school, the start of a new year or one’s anniversary, these moments are observed with various rituals to acknowledge their significance. The same is true as we conclude one liturgical church year and prepare to enter another with advent. The final Sunday of the liturgical calendar marks the completion of another year by honoring Christ the King. This feast is relatively new in the life of the Church, founded in 1925 by Pope Pius XI for a very practical reason. At the time, a dictator named Mussolini seized control of Italy and a young man named Adolph Hitler was gathering support for the Nazi Party. Across the world, the economy was beginning to fail and peace was faltering only a few years after the devastating First World War had stolen the futures of millions of people. These were dark times and many were wondering if God was present or if evil had finally conquered the world. The suffering that touched the lives of so many also threatened to destroy their faith and trust in God. So Pius XI founded the feast of Christ the King to remind Christians that Jesus was in charge of the world and history, not evil people and their destructive plans. 

But it’s not just massive, globe-changing evils and events that shake the faith of God’s people. No matter who we are, we prefer a certain degree of stability and certainty, a measure of comfort and tradition. Change and loss can cause a personal crisis, especially when it affects areas of our life that give us strength and purpose. One of the most insidious and clever tactics satan wields against humanity is twisting loss, grief, and profound change to suggest that maybe God is not going to win after all. It sounds ridiculous to say, but doubt often circulates in my heart as I look at the world, our culture and even the Church, and wonder, can this be saved? How can this continue? Why does God allow this to happen?! The devil can also trick us into the other extreme, of making an idol out the way we’ve always done things. In this scenario, we avoid change at all costs, to the detriment of spiritual growth or renewal because we prefer comfort and consistency instead of the challenge and messiness that comes with the life of the Holy Spirit. 

In response to these timeless questions, our wise Church gives us a surprising gospel. We do not hear about the triumphant entry of Jesus into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday but instead the passage of Jesus hanging on the cross. At first, this gospel doesn’t seem to fit or help! Isn’t the cross a sign of Jesus’ defeat? Doesn’t it show the weakness and humiliation of our Lord and King? Shouldn’t Jesus be full of might and control instead of dying alongside two criminals?

But this is no mistake. The Church gives us this gospel to show the wisdom of God, which is infinitely wiser than human understanding. Divine wisdom which is often shocking and surprising, disruptive and uncomfortable. This gospel shows us true power and real kingship; how God can take the worst of what humanity can do and redeem it. A terrible thief becomes a saint; a broken and disgraced Jesus rises from the dead in glory. Old ways of seeing and believing are transformed and enhanced.

Here in St. Louis, we are undergoing a significant change in our local church that is sure to bring sadness, loss, disruption, and change. Which is not to say that such changes are unjustified or unnecessary. The numbers don’t lie: what we’ve been doing is no longer working. We are losing 5000 people every year—if you divide that across the archdiocese, that’s about 60 people from Incarnate Word each year, or 15-20 families. Gone from the Church. In the past, our approach was to make sure we had as many parishes as possible, if we built a church, people would fill it. But that’s no longer the case. Many people rightly ask, how does closing parishes encourage evangelization. But we could also ask, “how has keeping them open been working out for us? If an unchanging number of parishes is the key to evangelizing, then why are we losing 5000 people per year with them open? We might think of this as a spiritual Dunkirk; a time to retreat, regroup, and then re-engage.

It’s understandable to struggle with the decisions that are coming from this process; many may feel anger, experience doubt, or even the temptation to abandon the faith. The feelings themselves are perfectly normal but how we respond to them determines whether this change brings resurrection and life or fear and separation. Yes, it might mean more people here in Church on a Sunday. Yes, it might mean a more crowded parking lot, Yes, some folks might have to drive further to go to Mass. But if THOSE things are going to prevent us from practicing the faith, perhaps the bigger problem is not with this process but our faith? If we’re willing to plan ahead or endure inconvenience to go to a ballgame or shopping, but not to Mass—that’s something to work on.

I don’t say these things from a place of judgement or indifference. Whatever changes happen will require many sacrifices from the clergy too. I am anxious about what new models for parishes might look like, that I might be asked to leave you, and whether I have the competence and ability to be an effective pastor in a new framework. But I keep reminding God that he called me to be a priest at this time, so he must help me do what must be done. I also remember that I have questioned God’s plan many times before and he always seems to figure things out; if I am willing to let him lead!

Each of us has to make that same choice for ourselves. Will I trust God, knowing that he is Lord and cannot be defeated by any evil, human weakness, or challenge we face? Do I believe, that no matter how bleak things look, in the church or in society, that it is no problem for God? Do I realize, that God is not asking me to fix everything or right every wrong but he is calling me to live my faith fully and love the people around me in the same way he does? Am I willing to let God disrupt the way things have always been to infuse new life into what may have become routine and stagnant?

Ultimately, I am not asking you to love All Things New or pretend you have no questions or concerns. But here are three things I would ask you to hold onto as we move through this process.

1. Assume the best in others, especially our leaders. Give the Archbishop and his team the benefit of the doubt. (Story of care-giver in cottleville) The archbishop did not wake up one day and say, “how can I anger 400k Catholics for no good reason.” I believe the Archbishop is being a good shepherd, leading us through something difficult, towards something better that leads to renewal and growth in the long-term. 
2. Remember that what we choose to look for, we will see. If we look for the flaws and everything wrong with ATN and our spiritual leaders, that is what we will see. If we ask for God’s help to see the good and the opportunities, that is what we will find. It seems a little simplistic but it is true. So resolve to look for God’s hand in this process and do not foster a critical spirit!
3. Finally, we must never forget that the only one who can lose our faith is us. No one can steal it away, no matter how disappointed or frustrated we might feel about this process. Our parishes and schools are special; some of life’s most sacred moments happen in them and they become like people to us. But we shouldn’t forget that parishes and schools are a means to an end—not the end itself. When they no longer effectively evangelize and foster discipleship, then we need to give them up, for the sake of the larger mission. Each of us must make sure to take an active role in practicing and growing our faith and sharing it with others. We must avoid the trap of becoming consumer Christians, wanting the church to cater to us and give us what we want with little or no sacrifice. You and I are being invited to take ownership of our faith in a new way that will look different than it has for the last several generations. This is scary but also exciting, challenging but empowering. So long as we continue to believe and embrace what is essential to our faith, namely prayer and the sacraments, God will always provide what we need and there will always be reason to hope.

May we never forget the victory of Christ the King and may God bless his Church in St. Louis as we seek follow where he leads us towards new life and growth in our faith!

Love and Work=Happiness (33rd Week, Year C)

 To listen to this homily, click here.

Just in case you wanted to know, I did not win the giant powerball jackpot this week. If I did, I would be somewhere warm right now! It’s always funny to see how people get worked up with the massive drawings and how different news sites offer articles on what to do if you win. But what tends to be the number one thing people say they will do, if they hold the winning ticket? Almost everyone fantasizes about some scenario where they would quit their job, often in some dramatic or vindictive way. There is something deep within human nature that judges work to be one of the obstacles to personal happiness. If money is no longer needed or is in plentiful supply, is there any reason to work?!

In fact, the Thessalonians from today’s second reading had this very argument. Not because they had won the lottery or found some big pot of gold. The reason many of them had quit their jobs and stopped working is that they were waiting for Jesus to come back and initiate the end of the world. Their reasoning was simple and confident; Jesus seemed to say that he would be back soon so why bother with earning money and needless toil in the meantime. None of that would mean anything in heaven and just seemed like wasted time and effort!

St. Paul hears about it and goes nuts, for a couple of reasons. First of all, there is a practical problem. While these unemployed Christians were loitering around, waiting for some sort of rapture, they still needed to eat. So they were asking their friends, family, and neighbors for food. This was becoming a burden to the many hard-working Christians who decided to keep honoring their responsibilities until the mysterious moment that the Lord came back. Secondly, these leisurely believers had nothing else to do while they waited so they were becoming busy bodies, armchair quarterbacks, putting their noses in everyone’s business and stirring up trouble. There is a reason for the saying, idle hands and idle minds are the devil’s workshop. These folks were doing more harm than good and their assumption that Jesus’ return was just around the corner wasn’t helping them or anyone else. In fact it was was causing spiritual, economic, and relational harm to the whole community because they had ceased being contributing members of society.

St. Paul reminds them that when he came to preach the gospel to their city, he did not rely on them for anything. In fact, he earned his own keep as a tentmaker so he could buy his own food. He mentions that some of this work was drudgery, in other words, he didn’t do it because he loved it or because it was his passion but he did it because it was the right thing to do and it allowed him to be in the midst of the people he served rather than living some sort of entitled and exalted existence. His work, as ordinary and practical as it was, played a part in loving God and serving the people around him. It made him relatable and credible to the people he preached to.

Which gives us an opportunity to reflect on the view we have of our own work. Sigmund Freud, who had some truly strange and unchristian views, was once asked what he thought was needed for people to be happy. His response was simple: love and work. In fact, this is absolutely true, for every person, especially for everyone who follows Christ, these two things are necessary: healthy, loving relationships and meaningful work. Even before Adam and Eve turned away from God in the Garden of Eden, God wanted them to work. In the garden, their labor would reflect God’s own productivity and creativity and was the way they exercised their stewardship over creation. It was only after sin entered the world that work became difficult, unpleasant, and unfulfilling. But it was always part of his plan.

Work still has tremendous value for each of us. It is the primary way we exercise the gifts and talents we have received from God. Any honest occupation is the main way that we provide for our families and those who are less fortunate. Work makes it possible for us to support the charitable endeavors of our church and to make the world around us a little better than we found it. It is the typical channel where we live out our faith and provide a good example for others. Our work gives witness to the truth of the gospel and the gift of God’s grace; it can be done for the Glory of God and the good of others. It is important to note that work is not the same as a job; not all work is compensated with money or material things. Some of the most critical types are repaid by love alone, as we think about the countless and often-hidden contributions of parents, mentors, and other care-givers. Finally, work gives meaning to our lives and keeps us out of trouble. We are called to spend our days doing things with purpose and building up the kingdom of God. 

Does this mean that we should never rest or take a vacation? No! Is St. Paul and the Church encouraging us to be work-a-holics and never sit still? No! A little rest and relaxation are good and holy things. But if we find ourselves trying to avoid as much work as possible or dreaming of a life of leisure, we should know that such an existence will inevitably lead to restlessness, dissatisfaction, and temptations of every kind.

Today let us apply St. Paul’s words to ourselves and consider how we view our work. For a child, that might be our chores around the house. If we are a student, our work will be our studies. If we are a spouse and parent, that will be fulfilled by preparing meals, caring for the home, encouraging our family, and carrying out our profession with integrity, if we are older or retired, our work will be taking advantage of opportunities to help our family, volunteer, and offer prayer. Holy and meaningful work is anything that occupies our time and engages our energy, talents, and thoughts. May we imitate St. Paul, using our work as a way to serve others, give glory to God, and prepare for that day when Jesus returns in all his glory!