One of my friends claims to be a vegetarian because he says that Jesus was a vegetarian after the Resurrection. He points to this week’s Gospel where we read about Jesus eating baked fish. My friend further asserts that after the Resurrection, whenever Jesus eats, he eats only fish. While my friend is correct, I don’t think that Jesus would be promoting vegetarianism.

The reason Jesus eats anything after the Resurrection is simple: he wants to prove to his disciples that he is not a ghost. He is flesh and blood, just as they are. Jesus demonstrates that the Resurrection was real, definitive and actual; it was not fantasy or a figment of someone’s imagination.

On this Third Sunday of Easter, the Scripture passages further elucidate upon the meaning of the Resurrection. Again we hear how Jesus was handed over to Pilate, suffered, died and was buried, yet in God’s mercy and love was resurrected in order that we would have life eternal. There is an ancient saying: “that which is not assumed is not redeemed.” The logos Jesus Christ, had to assume human flesh—become one like us—in order to save us. One analogy might be a firefighter who goes into a burning building to save a trapped occupant. The firefighter puts himself in danger (becoming like the trapped victim) in order to pull that person to safety. In a similar, but more intimate, way, Jesus becomes human, lives our life, dies and is buried, in order to be raised to life again. He becomes the model and the proof of God’s promise of salvation.

All that is asked in return is that we keep his word. We cannot earn our salvation—Jesus already did that for us. No, our salvation is pure gift. We are invited to become like God by following his commandments and living our lives in imitation of Christ.

Time and time again in the Resurrection accounts, Jesus brings the word of “peace” to his disciples. This does not merely mean the absence of conflict; rather, it is that deep, abiding sense of security that can only be found in God’s presence. The Word becomes flesh to help us to realize that God is always around us. We have not been abandoned. We are never alone. Our Advocate Jesus Christ, as Saint John says in the second reading, is expiation for the sins of the whole world.

May this third week of celebrating the Easter mystery be a time for us to reflect upon how close God is near to us. May the love of God wipe away our sins and make us truly perfect.

Today we celebrate the Second Sunday of Easter, the eighth day of the Easter Octave and Divine Mercy Sunday. On this day, the Church invites us to reflect on that great quality of mercy. The Gospel reading from John’s Gospel relates the story of Thomas as well as the institution of the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Through the gift of the Sacraments, Jesus gives us an opportunity to experience God’s love and mercy first hand because it was out of love for sinful humanity that God sent Jesus to be our redeemer.

The Sacrament of Reconciliation is God’s promise to us that we are never abandoned; we are never tossed aside. God through his Son Jesus wants us to be with him.  Even Thomas, who doubted the resurrection, was desired by God. Even Peter, who betrayed Jesus prior to the Crucifixion, was desired by God. In a poignant moment on the cross, even the Good Thief was told by Jesus: “This day you will be with me in Paradise.” In short, salvation and eternal life are our destiny.

So great is God’s love for sinful humanity, that St. Faustina promoted the devotion to the Divine Mercy and the late Holy Father, Pope John Paul II, established the Feast of Divine mercy on the Second Sunday of Easter. The words “Jesus I trust in you” are on the icon of Divine Mercy to remind us to always keep Christ in our hearts.

However, because God has shown us such great mercy, we are invited to give that gift to others. As I have been forgiven in the Sacrament of Reconciliation, so too must I forgive others. As God has been merciful to me and washed away my sins, so too must I be merciful to others and entrust them to God’s mercy.

This weekend we remember the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic. I read an article on the internet about Father Thomas Byles who was on the Titanic traveling to his brother’s wedding. Fr. Byles was a convert to Catholicism and was on the deck of the ship reciting his breviary on April 14, 1912 when the ship struck the iceberg. According to witnesses, he helped others to get to safety, heard their confessions, gave absolution and led the recitation of the Rosary. One of the survivors reported that as the ship sank, Fr. Byles was saying the rosary on the deck and praying for the repose of the souls of those about to perish while Catholics, Protestants and Jews were kneeling around him. He refused the offer to get on a lifeboat saying that his ministry was on the ship. You can read more about this story at FatherByles.com and on LifeSiteNews.com.

This is truly the ministry of Divine Mercy:

to offer comfort and God’s peace especially to those in most need. 

May this Second Week of Easter be an opportunity for each of us to be and instrument of God’s forgiveness, God’s peace and God’s mercy to those whom we meet.

As a priest, I find the Good Friday liturgy to be one of the most moving experiences I celebrate. First of all, it is the one day of the year that I am not permitted to celebrate the Mass. Instead, we participate in the liturgy of the pre-sanctified. The Eucharist was consecrated on Holy Thursday evening and on Good Friday, the Body of Christ is consumed within the context of an extended liturgy of the word. Secondly, the liturgy has some very poignant moments from the readings to the veneration of the cross to the celebration of the pre-sanctified. Thirdly, I am struck as to how peaceful the liturgy is: devoid of music save chant and simple melodies (or at least should be), lots of silent reflection, and the powerful entrance rite with the prostration.

The three parts of the liturgy invite us to focus on our relationship with God and with others. In the liturgy of the word, we hear once again the Passion account. I encourage you to read the account prior to celebrating Good Friday. With which of the characters do you identify?  Pilate? Peter? One of the thieves? Joseph of Arimathea? The women? The Beloved Disciple? And the list goes on. Put yourself at the crucifixion. How do you react?

The intercessions expand outward: we pray for the Church at the beginning and gradually widen our prayer circle, praying for those who are not Catholic, those who are not Christian and those who do not believe in God. The scope of the intercessions invite us to broaden our own pray perspectives, not just praying for those whom we know or love, but praying for those who persecute or hate us.

The second part of the liturgy calls us to venerate the instrument of our salvation. “Behold the wood of the Cross on which hung the salvation of the world. Come, let us adore.” We recognize that this instrument of torture and death has become a sign and symbol of God’s intense love for humanity: God so loved the world that he sent his only son to be its savior. Our redemption entailed God becoming so completely one of us that he died in order that we might have life eternal. It is fitting therefore, that we give adoration to the cross.

Having heard the word and adored the cross, we partake of the bread of life. The Eucharist, which is the source and summit of the Christian life, is eaten simply. The food for the journey beckons us to follow in the footsteps of Jesus. Jesus who experienced the human life accompanies us on our journey toward salvation.

If you are able to spend part of the day in quiet adoration and prayer, reflect on the cross, pray the stations, picture yourself present at the crucifixion. Be open to the Spirit inviting you to immerse yourself in the mystery of the cross.

Tonight the Church reflects on three great institutions: the institution of the Eucharist, the institution of the priesthood, and the institution of Christian service.

The readings recall the journey of the Israelite community and how that journey was fulfilled in the person of Jesus Christ who is our Passover and our lasting peace. Jesus himself becomes the food for the journey which nourishes and sustains us. The Eucharist re-configures us and re-orients us toward our true calling as sons and daughters of a loving God.

At the Last Supper, Jesus identifies himself as both priest and victim. He is the sacrifice, but also the one who offers the sacrifice. Like Moses, he stands between God and humanity as an intercessor and spokesperson. He is shown to be the fulfillment of the Old Testament high priesthood. Jesus then offers this gift to his disciples who become priests in their own right acting in persona Christi capitis (in the person of Christ the head). When they serve as priests, they act as Christ. Christ works through them to bring about salvation.

Finally, the mandatum (mandate) to do as I have done flips the traditional view of master and servant. A true leader, a true ruler, is one who is also a servant. A master cannot lord it over his or her subjects; rather, a master must be willing to become a slave and serve the least of those under his or her care. This is what true Christian service is all about: I serve another person as Christ would serve them AND I am serving Christ in that person. So in some senses, it is Christ serving Christ.

The liturgy of Holy Thursday reminds us that while we adore the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist, that adoration should reflect itself in service to others. One cannot adore without serving and one cannot serve without adoring.  The two go hand-in-hand. May our celebration of Holy Thursday lead us to increase both our service and adoration.

Palm Sunday begins Holy Week. The scripture readings of Palm Sunday show how quickly people can change their minds. We see how triumph can turn to tragedy, how adulation can turn to condemnation, and how a coronation can quickly become a crucifixion.

At the first Gospel reading, we hear the story of the Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem. Jesus is hailed as a hero, a messiah, a king. He can do no wrong. Everyone loves him. In the Passion narrative, he is condemned as a criminal, treated like a pariah, abandoned by his friends and finally dies in a horrific way.

When we are tempted to feel sorry for ourselves because we aren’t popular enough or because we feel ignored, remember Palm Sunday: people are fickle; they change their minds. What is “hot” today is thrown out tomorrow. What is the “in thing” today becomes yesterday’s news.

As we enter into Holy Week, we might consider re-reading the Passion account as a reminder that the world can be a very unfriendly place. But like Jesus, we need to hang onto our relationship with God as the anchor that grounds us in reality and prevents us with going with the flow of popular opinion. May the Passion challenge us to hope for a better world and lead us to seek after what is truly holy, just and true.

As we complete our Lenten journey, we have the opportunity to reflect on how well we have progressed.

Have we been faithful to the disciplinary practices we initiated on Ash Wednesday?

Or have we become lazy?

Are we still working toward changing our opinions, attitudes and actions or have we fallen back into old habits?

While these practices are laudatory, more important are the changes we have experienced this Lenten season. How have we become better persons during the past six weeks? Are we less judgmental and critical? Are we more patient and helpful? Are we happier? The fact is if we have not experienced a change for the positive this Lent perhaps we had not fully entered into the spirit of the season.

But have no fear, there is still time to make improvements. Like students studying for a final, you can put together an “all-nighter.” These last few days of Lent may be thought of as a “mini retreat” in which we more intensely prepare for the Triduum and the Easter season. Perhaps we can spend more time in prayer and works of mercy. Perhaps we could eliminate distractions like TV, the internet, frivolous shopping, and useless conversation during the next several days. Perhaps we could spend more time in meditation and attending more communal prayer at our local parishes. Whatever we decide to do should be an opportunity to deepen our relationship with God.

As we continue our Lenten journey, may our lives reflect our growing relationship with God and may that relationship be expressed in how we love our brothers and sisters.

The word “epiphany” simply means “manifestation.” Of course, we usually associate the word with God being made manifest in our midst. But we can have epiphany experiences in our daily lives as well. For example, we may be working on a chemistry problem and nothing seems to work until we have an epiphany or insight that clarifies the matter. Or we may be going about our daily business when suddenly we have an insight (or as some like to say an ah-ha moment) where everything becomes clear.

A few weeks ago, I saw the musical, “On a Clear Day You Can See Forever” starring Harry Connick, Jr. In the story, a recently-widowed psychiatrist treats a patient who is channeling the life of a dead big band era singer. The psychiatrist falls in love with this dead singer who is being “reanimated” so to speak through the patient who is undergoing hypnosis. While the story is far-fetched, the underlying premise is not:  the reason the psychiatrist is unable to move forward with his life is that he is still in love with his deceased wife and confuses the reanimated big band singer with real love. In other words, he is afraid to fall in love with living flesh and blood human beings. He uses his research and practice to distance himself from reality.

How often do we do that?  Instead of living reality, instead of moving forward with life, we hold onto the past or we try to live in a fantasy world. Sometimes we become tempted to live a life that is not our own. We try to be someone we’re not. On some levels, we do this because we want to be accepted. Teenagers do that when they join gangs or cliques.  In the process of trying to be someone else, we make mistakes and hurt others. Our minds become clouded with delusions of grandeur or fame or wealth. It is one thing to dream; it is an entirely different thing when our dreams turn into fantasies and we begin to lose sight of reality.

That is why God chose to become human. He chose to manifest himself to the world in order to help human beings to see the difference between reality and fantasy. The people of Jesus’ day (much like our own) were caught up in the desire for power, wealth and recognition.  Even the religious leaders were hoping for a change in the regime. Yet they lost sight of this important fact: the Messiah that was to come would not be a military leader but would be a shepherd who would lead people toward God. The Messiah would be God’s messenger of peace and justice.

In other words, God broke through the cloudiness of human existence to proclaim a new clear day in which dreams can become reality.  Consider these words from Isaiah:

Rise up in splendor, Jerusalem!

Your light has come, the glory of the Lord shines upon you.

See, darkness covers the earth,

and thick clouds cover the peoples;

but upon you the LORD shines,

and over you appears his glory.

Nations shall walk by your light,

and kings by your shining radiance.

Raise your eyes and look about;

they all gather and come to you:

your sons come from afar,

and your daughters in the arms of their nurses.

Then you shall be radiant at what you see,

your heart shall throb and overflow,

for the riches of the sea shall be emptied out before you,

the wealth of nations shall be brought to you.

Caravans of camels shall fill you,

dromedaries from Midian and Ephah;

all from Sheba shall come

bearing gold and frankincense,

and proclaiming the praises of the LORD.

When the psychiatrist realizes that he has not been living in reality, he has an epiphany moment. He recognizes that he’s been chasing after the wrong thing and then he pursues real love.  At the end of the musical, he sings the title song. Compare these words of Alan Jay Lerner with the text from Isaiah, especially the part in bold:

On a clear day,

rise and look around you,

and you'll see who you are.

On a clear day,

how it will astound you

That the glow of your BEING outshines every star.

You'LL FEEL PART OF every mountain,

sea and shore,

You CAN HEAR from far and hear a WORLD you've never HEARD before.

On a clear day,

on a clear day,

you can see forever,

and ever, and ever more.

When we see with the clarity of God, when we allow ourselves to experience an epiphany moment, we become a part of God’s reality. Our eyes are no longer cloudy with the fantasy of riches or fame or power. Our hearts are not filled with false love. Our minds are not deluded by nonsensical thoughts. Instead we are able to contemplate the world as God intended it to be.

May this epiphany be an opportunity for each of us to see the presence of God around us. May our eyes, ears, minds and hearts be open to God’s reality and not false human machinations or delusions. May the Christ Child who came to earth for all humanity give us the clarity to see the world through the eyes of faith, peace, and justice. And in so doing, may we be a part of bringing about God’s Kingdom here and now.

We traditionally begin the new calendar year on January first.  However, the new Church year began on the first Sunday of Advent, some six weeks ago. Yet, at this time of the year, it is good for us to reflect on the beginnings that have happened in 2011/2012.

Of course there is the new Church year in which we focus on the Gospel of St. Mark, which is the shortest and most tersely written of the four Gospel accounts. Mark is one of the three Synoptic Gospels (the others being Matthew and Luke). These three accounts of the life of our Lord share many common elements, yet each has a unique perspective on the ministry of Jesus.

The second new beginning is the new translation of the Roman Missal.  Other bloggers have written extensively on the subject and there are numerous books and articles either praising or attacking the received text. From my perspective as a parish priest, a theologian and a liturgist, I find that polemics do little to enhance our relationship with God. 

The text is what it is: some will like the translation; others will not. That is the bottom line. However, I have noticed that many so called “enlightened scholars” have used the translation as a way of attacking a generation of parish ministers, theologians and lay faithful as somehow being misguided or inept because they used a translation which was not entirely accurate. Yet when we examine the past forty years or so, we notice that during this time of “inaccuracy,” a great number of persons ordained, consecrated and lay, promoted Catholic teaching and did ministry with many people who were marginalized and on the fringes. If we look at the scriptures (and the Gospels in particular), it becomes apparent that our relationship with God needs to become personal.  Jesus engaged his followers and that is why they continued to follow him.  Of course, some didn’t like the fact that he challenged their lifestyle (cf., the rich young man, or the Pharisees and scribes), but it was because of his charisma and personal rapprochement that people were changed.

It seems to me that this is the task of those who use the new translation: the text, the phrases, and the words (many of which sound foreign to our ears), need to be interpreted through the actions of the ministers. In other words, the liturgical texts like the scriptural texts need to come alive for those who hear, read, and use them. The texts are not museum pieces to be viewed and analyzed from afar. Rather, they are living encounters with the living Christ.

Whether the text is from the Gospel of Mark or from the tenth Sunday in ordinary time, the words and phrases must be interpreted for people in the twenty-first century. Instead of saying, “I don’t like that word” or “This is confusing to the people,” our task as Catholic Christians is to ask, “What is God saying to me through this particular text?” If the text is confusing, research it. If the text is challenging, discuss it. If the text is difficult to read, pray it.

In this new year of grace, the temptation is to want everything to be easy. Unfortunately, we know that is not going to be the case. Instead of complaining about the way things are, take the opportunity to become more engaged with the issue. Be open to the Holy Spirit speaking to us through the texts. Really try to ascertain what God is saying to me on a personal level through my prayer at the liturgy.

Finally, the third beginning is what happened a few days ago.  The ball dropped in Times Square; a new calendar year has begun. In the midst of resolution making, what spiritual goals have we made for 2012? We tend to focus on health or financial goals, but what about our ultimate goal of eternal life with God?  What plans do we have in place for becoming spiritually fit in the new year? 

I would suggest that we take some time and do a spiritual inventory or a spiritual closet-cleaning and really examine what we need to do in order to become the person God wants us to be. In our reflection on who we are as God’s children, ask the question, “What is preventing me from being the person God has designed?” Perhaps I have a number of bad habits that need to be addressed. Maybe I’m not as patient with my family or co-workers. Perhaps I have fallen into addictive behaviors or tendencies. Maybe my priorities are skewed. Examine your life in the context of prayer and do an analysis with these two questions in mind:  “Am I the person I want to be?” and “Is the person I want to be the same person that God wants me to be?”

May this New Year be an opportunity for all of us to gain a fresh perspective on our relationship with God. Hopefully, as we become closer to God through our prayer, our liturgy and our actions, we will begin to see changes in the world around us. Let us ask the intercession of St. Mark to help us to get back to basics and become the person God is calling us to be.

As we begin a new Church year, it is good to reflect on where we've been. The last two weeks have been quite eventful in terms of the scriptures. Jesus has been reminding us that we need to  be responsible if we are going to be worthy for God's Kingdom. The parable of the talents urges us to use the gifts we've been given as the proper way to respond to God's invitation to be His people.

Everything we've received is gift:  our possessions, our friends, our jobs--we "earned" nothing. At the end, we return to God with nothing. In many senses we cannot give anything back to God that God has not first given to us. Except for the fact that we can use what He has given us to the best of our ability. That is, our material blessings should be used to help others. Our friends are not to be treated as objects but as subjects through whom we encounter the living God. Our jobs are meant to give us sustenance not to lord it over others or to step on people.

In short, the gifts and talents we've received are to be used responsibly. If we fail to use them, we risk the punishment meted out to the servant in the gospel. The point of the gospel story is not how well we use our talents, but that we use them. How often do people fail to even try to use what God has given them? Out of fear of failure or what others may think, how often have we not even attempted to do something? For example, when I was a younger priest, I sometimes sang the Eucharistic Prayer. One day, my goddaughter said to me, "Uncle John, do you have to sing?" "No, not really," I replied. She then said, "then don't." (I should point out that I don't have the greatest voice.)  I still do occasionally sing, but I make sure that I practice beforehand. If my goddaughter had said that prior to my singing, I may not have sung. But I made the attempt and even though she didn't appreciate it, the effort was there.

My father was a great athlete. I inherited none of those genes. But I am a scholar and musician. I can appreciate athletic ability, but I know that I'm not very good. Despite this, I do tap into those skills learned in my youth. Recently one of my students (who is half my age), asked me to play basketball.  My dad used to play and coach basketball.  I haven't played in 33 years.  Although I am not good, when the student asked, I accepted. Because at that point in the day, it was for his benefit as well as mine. While I didn't play fantastic, I held my own. (And I didn't break any bones!) I made a few baskets. And the student became my teacher suggesting ways to improve my shots.  Will I be a great player? No. But I made the attempt and it was for the benefit of both of us. I learned how to take direction and become a student again and my seminarian friend was able to develop his skills as a teacher. In the process, we both became healthier.

In the first week of Advent we are admonished to keep watch and wait for the Lord.  In our watching, we are invited to be responsible with the gifts we've been given. More importantly, in our daily lives we are invited to see the presence of the Lord. Sometimes the Lord speaks to us through the words of a child who chides us. Other times, the Lord invites us to use talents and gifts that have been dormant for a while. Finally, at all times, the Lord calls us to prepare ourselves for his coming by exercising every gift and talent He's given us to the best of our ability.

May this Advent season challenge us to seek the Lord in the anticipation of his coming.

September is traditionally the month of transition: we move from summer into autumn; from vacation mode to back to school; from pursuing fun activities to getting back to work; and from leisure time to a more regimented and structured day. Although some of these things begin in August (the beginning of school for example), the month of September really drives the point home that we are back into a more regular schedule.            

This September was no different for me. As an educator, my year begins mid-August but by September 15th, I realize that we’re in it for the long haul. Summer becomes a distant memory. Although my birthday is several months past, I really begin to feel my age every time September rolls around.            

By this time, we are well into the Ordinary Time of the Church calendar. We hear stories of Jesus’ ministry and the challenges he issued to his disciples (and to us). The scriptures may begin to feel more pointed as we recognize that the Gospel is not easy to live out. In this year especially, the reality of daily life is confronted by the challenge to truly believe what we read, teach what we believe and practice what we teach.            

On Labor Day weekend, we were reminded to dissuade people from their wickedness. If we fail to at least attempt to call others to conversion, we will be held accountable for their sins. In the Gospel, Jesus called us to develop the principle of subsidiarity in our dealings with others. In other words, we should handle disputes at the lowest level. We should only bring in authority if we are unable to settle things amongst ourselves. However, all fraternal correction should be done in charity. As St. Paul reminded us: “love is the fulfillment of the law.”            

As we begin a new school year, charitable subsidiarity should be of primary importance as we learn to live as brothers and sisters in the Lord. Unfortunately, some of us are great at fraternal correction, but not so good at loving one another. Some of us can use the law as a weapon of control, but are unable to offer comfort and hope to someone who is struggling. Perhaps this autumnal time should be devoted to become more charitable and less legalistic.            

This theme of charity was further driven home by the readings we heard on September 11. This year was the tenth anniversary of the tragedy in New York City, Shanksville, Pennsylvania and Washington, D.C. From the first reading through the Gospel, we were reminded that “wrath and anger are hateful things.” Moreover, just as the Lord is “slow to anger” so too should we be “rich in compassion.” Even more telling is the fact that each of us, in either life or death, belong to the Lord. Finally, like a baseball bat between the eyes, we are told to forgive and forgive and forgive at least 77 times if not more.            

In a society that calls for revenge we as Christians are exhorted to be counter-cultural and temper justice with mercy. It is not easy, yet so very necessary if we are to truly grow into our role as followers of Jesus Christ. In other words, we need to learn how to think as God thinks. God’s logic defies human thinking. God sometimes doesn’t make sense to we who are children of Adam and Eve. Yet, when we put on the mind and heart of Christ, God’s logic and understanding become somewhat comprehensible. For example, why would God give the same rate of pay to someone who worked for only an hour as compared to someone who worked eight or ten hours? Because God is God and we are not. However, we are trying to become like God.            

The Gospel of September 18th challenges us with the statement: “the last will be first and the first will be last.” Why? It doesn’t make sense to our human brains. But to God who is overly generous, it makes perfect sense. All people, great and small, first and last, are loved equally by God. Moreover, all people are offered the gift of reconciliation and the promise of eternal hope. However, despite God’s generosity we still cry out as in the passage from Ezekiel, “The Lord’s way is not fair!” Isn’t that an interesting statement? Things are not fair when they go against our way of thinking, but when we are the recipient of favor, that way is eminently fair and just.

With the readings of the 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time, we come full circle being reminded that if the wicked person repents he will save his life, but if a righteous person commits sin, she will die. The letter to the Philippians reminds us to put on the attitude of Christ which is love. When we put others ahead of ourselves, we learn to be united in love. When we adopt an attitude of selfishness, that is when we are alone. When we fail to do the will of God which involves sacrifice, forgiveness and attempting to think with the mind of Christ, we run the risk of losing the Kingdom. Again we return to the theme of the “first shall be last and the last shall be first.” Those who hear the word of God and attempt to put it into practice will enter into the kingdom of God while those who fail to try to live out Gospel values may find themselves ostracized in the Kingdom.            

In short, the month of September is a busy time of starting over. It is a time to reassess and reevaluate our priorities. It is a time to remember in order not to repeat the mistakes and failings of the past. May this time truly be an opportunity for beginning again and putting on the mantle of Christ by working for peace and justice not only in our own families, but throughout the whole world.