BE NOT AFRAID OF THEIR TERROR

 A SERMON FOR THE 5TH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

There’s a part of the Divine Office which we read every morning, that’s called the Martyrology.  This Martyrology lists the saints to be celebrated each day, and sometimes gives a few details of their life.  I was particularly struck the other day by the following passage: “At Rome, in the time of Nero, the commemoration of many holy martyrs.  Being falsely accused of having set fire to the city, they were cruelly put to death in various manners by the emperor's order.  Some were covered with the skins of wild beasts and torn to pieces by dogs, other were fastened to crosses, others again were delivered to the flames to serve as torches in the night.  All these were disciples of the apostles, and the first fruits of the martyrs which the Roman Church, a field so fertile in martyrs, offered to God even before the death of the Apostles.”

We all grew up learning about the exploits of the Roman martyrs.  We know about the catacombs where the early Christians hid themselves, secretly worshipped, and buried their dead.  We know how they were fed to the lions  in the Roman Colloseum.  What we often fail to appreciate, however, is that these were real people, as real as you and I, all trying to live their lives like we do, trying to stay close to God, obeying his commandments from day to day, sometimes rising higher on the path of holiness, and other times falling into temptation and sinning.  They had the same emotions, the same aspirations for a comfortable life of stability and prosperity, the same ambitions for their children, and of course, the same fears.  They belonged to the same Church we do, and had the same faith and beliefs, the same hope that they would save their souls, they all tried their best to love of God and neighbor.  But then something happened.

It was on the night of July 18 in the year of our Lord 64, three years before the martyrdom of the Holy Apostles Peter and Paul.  The emperor at the time was Nero, who, we all know, was a cruel tyrant who persecuted the Christians.  What you might not know is that Nero’s mother had manipulated her way into power by marrying the former emperor Claudius and then poisoning him so that her son Nero could take his place.  Like the election of Joseph Biden, it was the political theft of power, but no one could do anything about it.  Now Nero, also like Biden, had an agenda.  Like Biden, he had no real love for his own country, in his case the city of Rome, nor for its citizens, but wanted to enrich himself and, by means of some rather fanciful infrastructure projects, turn his dominion into a series of palaces and gardens for his own enjoyment.  That, of course, would mean that any common citizens who currently occupied this space were seen by Nero as merely obstacles getting in the way of his evil plans.

And then, on the night of July 18, 64 AD, Rome caught fire.  How convenient!  The Great Fire of Rome started near the Circus Maximus and burned for six days.  When it subsided, it suddenly and mysteriously re-ignited and burned for another three days, totally destroying two-thirds of the city.  The historian Tacitus gives us numerous details about the disaster, including reports that various mobs of looters were adding to the destruction by setting fire to public buildings and deliberately spreading the inferno.  Many of these later claimed that they had been acting under orders, and as an organized group, similar to Antifa and Black Lives Matter today.  Nero, who not surprisingly was absent from the city during the fire (as legend has it, merrily playing his fiddle while Rome burned) needed to avert suspicion from himself.  And what better target for his accusations than those Christians!  Just as today’s Democrats find Christians the most acceptable target for their hatred, Nero found them the perfect scapegoat: they turn the other cheek, they don’t stoop to the same vile practices as their accusers, and they will more or less happily take whatever penalties (or vaccines) are given them, rather than fight back and rebel.  It’s exactly what’s happening today, as Christian churches of all persuasions, but particularly Catholic churches if you notice, are being increasingly attacked, attempts are made to undermine our faith and morals with an onslaught of open perversion everywhere we turn, and the complete failure of those in power, even our allies, to protect the values we hold most dear. You compare this with ancient Rome, and things start to make sense, don’t they?  Because those who don’t know history are doomed to repeat it.

It is a troubling comparison, because it makes us wonder how far in the same direction the current regime in this country is prepared to go.  Be certain of this, though: they are either waiting for, or even preparing for, something similar to the Great Fire of Rome.  Hitler tried it, and quite successfully, when he burned down the Reichstag and blamed the Jews.  It worked for him, and look what happened to the Jews!  Why would we not expect that Biden and his thugs are plotting something similar?  They’ve already tried it when they blamed Trump-supporters for the so-called “insurrection” of January 6 when the Capitol building was “attacked.”  The frenzied reaction against conservatives put a stop to any last half-hearted attempts to claim the election was stolen.  Next time it could go to another level.  Maybe another pandemic, far worse than the last one, which they would blame on those of us who refuse to take their vaccine?   Or some kind of coordinated attack on abortion clinics, to be blamed on right-wing militia groups?  The assassination of Biden even, no doubt by so-called “Trump supporters.”  The possibilities are endless.  But whoever does it, whatever form it takes, it will be the Christians and the conservatives who will get the blame.  And one way or another, they’ll want to confiscate our guns and then feed us to their own version of the lions.

I say these things today, not to fill you with fear, but to prepare you for what could so easily happen.  And to caution you that on no account should we ever be remotely connected with any violent act ourselves.  We may be angry, very angry, but we must not fall into the trap of giving them the excuse they are looking for to persecute us with impunity.   We must behave like Christians, no matter what level of frustration or even hatred we might feel surging within us.  Anger begets violence, and to be violent in these fragile times is exactly what they’re hoping for, that we will give them an excuse to crack down on us, closing our churches, shutting down any remaining conservative voices, arresting us for “hate speech” and worse. 

I haven’t left much time to focus in on the words of our first Pope, St. Peter, in today’s Epistle.  But even back in his day, he knew the answer to all this “Be not afraid of their terror, neither be troubled; but sanctify Christ the Lord in your hearts.”  Instead of taking to violent methods to rid our nation of evil, let us not “render evil for evil.”  Rather let us “seek peace and ensue it.  For the eyes of the Lord are over the righteous, and his ears are open to their prayers: but the face of the Lord is against them that do evil.”  If we want God to hear our prayers, then, we must not resort to evil methods in the hope that good may come of them.  Let the face of the Lord not be against us, but against those true perpetrators of evil who hate God and hate us for loving God.  Even if the city or the nation burns to the ground around us, we must continue our prayers and our love of neighbor, being not afraid of their terror.  For “who is he,” asks St. Peter, “that will harm you, if ye be followers of that which is good?”  They can feed us to the lions, certainly, but they cannot come close to harming the real “us”, for our souls are beyond their reach.  God will see to it that we receive the graces to survive even death when the time comes.   Come to this realization and you will have peace.  Seek this peace, as St. Peter says, “Seek peace and ensue it.”  Because if we ever are called upon to suffer for righteousness’ sake, “happy are ye, blessed are ye.”

O GOD OUR HELP IN AGES PAST

 A HYMN FOR THE 5TH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

by Isaac Watts, 1708

 

 

1 O God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Our shelter from the stormy blast,
And our eternal home;

2 Under the shadow of thy throne
Thy saints have dwelt secure;
Sufficient is thine arm alone,
And our defence is sure.

3 Before the hills in order stood,
Or earth received her frame,
From everlasting thou art God,
To endless years the same.

4 A thousand ages in thy sight
Are like an evening gone,
Short as the watch that ends the night
Before the rising sun.

5 Time, like an ever-rolling stream,
Bears all its sons away;
They fly forgotten, as a dream
Dies at the opening day.

6 O God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Be thou our guard while troubles last,
And our eternal home.

 

QUO VADIS?

 A MESSAGE FOR THE 5TH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

There is a story told of St. Peter that you will not find in Holy Scripture.  And yet it is a tale told from the earliest ages of the Church and which has endured to the present day.  It describes how a fearful St. Peter, now bishop of the newly founded Church of Rome, sought to evade the terrible persecution of the Emperor Nero.  Four years of unparalleled violence had passed since Nero had pinned the blame for the Great Fire of Rome on the Christians.  His forces were coming closer to discovering the whereabouts of the leader of these Christians, and thus, poor St. Peter felt fear in his heart.

He must have been thinking of the ferocious lions of the Colloseum who daily devoured his Christian flock by the hundreds, when he wrote his famous words in his Epistle, “Brethren, be sober, be vigilant, for your adversary the devil goeth about as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.”  This adversary, in the form of the Roman soldiers, was now on the prowl for him, and Peter did not want to be devoured.

And so he fled the City of Rome, heading southeast on the Via Appia.  Oral tradition describes how, no sooner had he walked a half-mile outside the city gates than he meets our blessed Lord heading in the opposite direction towards Rome.  He addresses to him the following words “Domine quo vadis?” (Lord, whither goest thou?).  And the Lord replies “Venio Romam iterum crucifigi.” (I am coming to Rome to be crucified again.).  Peter, aware of the rebuke, turns back to face his destiny and Jesus disappears but, in disappearing, he leaves the impressions of his footprints on the road.  A church was built on this spot, and as evidence of the incident, there is a stone within the church that bears the imprints of our Lord’s holy feet.

St. Peter returns to Rome, is arrested, and on June 29 in the year 67 AD, is crucified like his Master.  Ashamed of his act of cowardice in fleeing the city, he felt himself unworthy to be put to death in the same way as our Lord, and asked his executioners that he be crucified upside-down, a request that was readily granted.  We commemorate his glorious martyrdom, along with that of his co-apostle, St. Paul, on Tuesday of this week.  Let us seek to emulate St. Peter, not in fleeing martyrdom but in embracing it, not in merely accepting our cross, but in recognizing our own unworthiness to follow Christ by carrying it.  And may St. Peter protect his Church by providing us with worthy shepherds who will not only defend, but feed their sheep!

DEPART FROM ME, FOR I AM A SINFUL MAN

 A SERMON FOR THE 4TH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

When our Lord performed his miracle of the draught of fishes, he revealed his divine nature for the first time to St. Peter and the other disciples.  For obviously this was no ordinary man.  They had toiled all the night and had caught nothing.  This was in itself highly unusual, indeed perhaps miraculous.  The Lake of Gennesaret, known today as the See of Galilee, is a body of water literally teeming with fish.  The most prevalent species of fish is the Galilee Tilapia, known locally as “St. Peter’s fish”.  About 300 tons of this Tilapia were fished from the lake in 2005, so for Peter and his fishermen friends to come up with not a single fish was not only highly unusual but probably unheard of.  They must have been beyond disappointed and even seriously concerned as they cleaned their nets that morning.

Then along came this man, who simply told them to put their nets back on the boat and head back out on the lake.  After a miserable and wasted night, and after spending a great deal of time cleaning the nets that had caught nothing, the last thing they wanted to do was try again.  But something inside Peter made him obey this man.  It didn’t stop him from complaining of course—it wouldn’t be St. Peter if he didn’t have something to say about it—but after grumbling to the man, whom he calls “Master,” that they had toiled all the night and had taken nothing, he spoke those now memorable words of submission: “Nevertheless, at thy word I will let down the net.”  Did he have some inkling that the “word” of this stranger was of more value than the word of any other?  Could he possibly have been given some interior disposition to recognize that this was in fact the Word himself, the Word that was in the beginning with God, the Word that was God?  We don’t know what was going on inside Peter’s head, but we do know that he was driven to disregard the instinctive and logical refusal that would have been the reaction of most of us, and simply do what the man said.

When the nets were then filled to capacity, so much so that they were in danger of breaking, his reaction was instantaneous and remarkable in its simplicity.  He knew a miracle when he saw it, and he fell to his knees before our Lord, in abject humility and the awful realization that he was in the presence of someone far beyond his own mortal limitations: “Depart from me: for I am a sinful man, O Lord.”  Before the miracle, he had called him “Master”, but now he calls him “Lord.”  This was the same St. Peter who would later be the one apostle to answer our Lord’s question, “But who say ye that I am?”  “Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God!”  These words of Peter were not made on the spur of the moment, but were the culmination of three years in our Lord’s presence, following him, hearing his teachings, seeing his miracles.  This was the first of those miracles, and already it had ignited the spark of recognition of our blessed Lord’s divinity. 

This faith would fail him several times during the course of those three years.  Let’s not forget when he sank beneath the waves he had tried walking on, or how he couldn’t stay awake during our Lord’s agony in the garden, his terrified flight from that garden when the soldiers arrested our Lord, and of course his triple denial before the cock crew.  But he had always come back, repentant for his disloyalty, eager to make up for his cowardice, and, ultimately, loyal to the death.  He was a man, and like all men, was a sinful man.  His saving grace was that he recognized that he was a sinner, unfit to be in the presence of God: “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord!” 

Sinful or not, our Lord saw fit to make St. Peter the rock upon which he would build his Church.  And we who are members of that Church and are no less sinful than Peter was, we are called upon today to be what he was: fishers of men.  We must follow the example of St. Peter, who when faced with the presence of God, rose above his own sense of unworthiness, and “forsook all, and followed him.”  We who are even less worthy than the great St. Peter must also forsake everything we have and follow him.  That doesn’t mean we have to give up our wives and husbands, neglect our children, sell our homes and give all our money to the poor.  It does mean, however, that we should see all these in their proper light, as gifts from God, given to us for our salvation.  We may cherish our material goods to a certain point, certainly, and especially our families and loved ones, but we must cherish them chiefly because they are the gifts of God.  We must never cease to thank God for the great draught of fishes we enjoy—for it was not by our own efforts alone that we have them, but because God pointed us in the right direction, sending us out time and again to to find a good spouse, to rear good children who would love God in their turn, to work hard day after day to earn our daily bread, and yes, even those little luxuries we enjoy.  Without God we would simply toil all the day and night, groaning and travailing in pain as it says in the Epistle.  And we would take nothing. 

Or at least, we would take nothing worth having. For the godless people in the world may have many riches.  They may be able to change spouses whenever they feel like it and for any reason at all.  They can live in their fancy houses, travel the world, staying in the best hotels, never have to work, go sailing in their yachts with their cutesy little third or fourth wife—but these are not gifts of God.  God’s gifts are for our salvation, not solely for our enjoyment.  These riches that God allows even wicked people to accrue, are nothing more than the natural reward they are given in this life for the natural goodness that is in them.  This natural and fleeting reward is, alas, all they should expect.  So please don’t envy them.

We who know God, know that he is a jealous God, a God who demands our obedience, our respect, and above all our love.  We who know God also know ourselves, and exactly what our own sinful humanity is in comparison to the infinite perfection of the divine.  Our instinctive reaction to this realization should be that of St. Peter, begging the God who is so perfect to depart from us who are so far beneath him.  And yet, the Word of God tells us that he will not depart from us.  Instead, he beckons us to come and follow him: “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and humble of heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.”  And so we come before God today, humble in our sinfulness, repentant and eager to do better.  For if our blessed Lord is “meek and humble of heart” how much meeker and humbler should we be?  So don’t be discouraged, let out your nets yet again, and keep praying, keep receiving our blessed Lord in the Sacrament of the Altar.  Do this and you will receive a multitude of graces so great that your souls can barely cope.  “O Lord, I am not worthy that thou shouldst enter under my roof.  Say but the word, and my soul shall be healed.”

I HEARD THE VOICE OF JESUS SAY

 A HYMN FOR THE 4TH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

by Horatius Bonar, 1846 

 

1 I heard the voice of Jesus say, 
“Come unto me and rest.
Lay down, O weary one, 
lay down your head upon my breast.”
I came to Jesus as I was, 
so weary, worn, and sad.
I found in him a resting place,
and he has made me glad.

 

2 I heard the voice of Jesus say, 
“Behold, I freely give 
the living water, thirsty one; 
stoop down and drink and live.”
I came to Jesus, and I drank 
of that life-giving stream.
My thirst was quenched, my soul revived,
and now I live in him.

 

3 I heard the voice of Jesus say,
“I am the dawning light.
Look unto me, your morn shall rise,
and all your day be bright.”
I looked to Jesus, and I found 
in him my star, my sun,
and in that light of life I’ll walk 
till trav’ling days are done.

THE WHOLE CREATION GROANETH

 A REFLECTION FOR THE 4TH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Despite St. Paul’s outwardly pessimistic declarations in today’s Epistle to the Romans, his words do nevertheless convey a message of hope.  No matter how much the whole of creation, including ourselves, may groan and travail in pain, it will be worth it in the end.  And certainly there is a great deal to groan about, from the situation in the Church to the travesties of justice that have infected our own beloved nation, from pandemics and dangerous vaccines to broken families and the apparent destruction of all stability and common sense, we are unquestionably within our rights to do a bit of groaning these days.

 

But if we pause in our pain for just a moment to reflect on the ultimate destiny of our souls and bodies, we will perhaps regain that sense of peace that is the reward of the righteous.  For the sufferings we endure are transitory and short-lived compared to the eternal prize that comes to those who patiently wait.  Yes, “even we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting for the adoption, to wit, the redemption of our body.”

 

The trick, of course, is in the waiting.  There are those who are indeed patient, silently enduring all hardship, every temptation, as they set their sights on this redemption that is their primary goal.  But then there are so many more who get tired of waiting, tired of the constant struggle against the combined forces of the devil, the world and their own fallen nature.  We know who they are, we watch them wallow in the slime of wickedness, doing everything they can to satisfy their every whim, no matter whom they hurt in the process, no matter what the cost to their own soul.

 

Can we help them?  Usually, the problem is that they don’t want our help.  They are so busy having a good time that they feel no need whatever to be told that they should stop and devote their energies to less self-centered pursuits.  You just have to think of our own grown-up children who no longer feel the need to go to confession or Sunday Mass.  We make excuses for people, we come up with mitigating circumstances that drive them to their bad behavior, but the bottom line is that we give up on them.  Sure, we may groan inwardly at their lack of faith and fervor, but we have already handed them over to the devil who eagerly awaits the gift of another lost soul.

 

The truth is, we’re tired of trying to persuade, trying to cajole and entice people to do their Catholic duty.  “We have toiled all the night, and have taken nothing.”  But let’s not forget that we are fishers of men, and the instruction of our Lord must be ever before us, to launch out into the deep and let down our nets yet again.  We must persevere in our efforts to help him save these lost souls, for if we give up on them, what should we expect from our own eternal judge?

UNDER THE MIGHTY HAND OF GOD

 A SERMON FOR THE SUNDAY WITHIN THE OCTAVE OF THE SACRED HEART

We should never forget that we are made in the image and likeness of God.  Before God created the heavens and the earth, he existed and he loved.  But if there was only God in this otherwise empty universe of eternal nothing, how could he love to the fullest extent?  Who else was there to love but himself?  The answer is twofold.  First of all, we must remember that God is love.  The perfection of love.  And so it is not an imperfection for him to love himself.  Secondly, God is Trinity, three Persons in one God.  The Father loves the Son, and the Son his Father, and the love that proceedeth from the Father and the Son is the Holy Ghost.  Father and Son loved from all eternity, and will always love, with that perfect love that is divine. 

God’s love was so perfect that he wanted to extend the object of his to creatures that he would make out of nothing.  Even though these creatures would offend him, betray him, insult him with their wickedness, he so loved the world he created that he sent his only-begotten Son to save us from ourselves.  The Incarnation of this Son, when the Word was made flesh and dwelled amongst us, is the living proof of God’s love for us.  The love that this Son of God showed for us is beyond our abilities to grasp.  Greater love hath no man, than that he lay down his life for his friend.  And our blessed Saviour lay down his life not only for one friend or a few dozen friends, but for every single human being who had ever lived and who ever would live in the future.  He lay down his life even for those who would reject his love, for those who continue to blaspheme his name, who insult his blessed Mother, who refuse his teachings and so arrogantly defy his commandments.  He lay down his life even for his enemies.  This is the love of the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

Today, like any other day, we are travelers.  We journey through life, taking one step after another until we reach our goal.  Because, like any journey, our life must have a goal, a destination.  If we lose sight of that final end, we drift off course and lose our way.  So it’s important to think often and longingly of the heaven that awaits us.  And it’s important that we stay on the path of love that leads us there.  This love must emulate the love that our Lord showed for us.  It must be a love based on sacrifice, which is true love.  We must abandon our own will and all the things we want that God would rather we didn’t have—all those sinful desires and the appetites of our fallen human nature, our attachments to worldly goods and so on.  We must fight those temptations to seek our own pleasures, our own interests, and make them our ultimate goal.  And we must love God instead.  “If ye love me, ye will obey my commandments” and the chief of these commandments is simply to love God, to love him with all our heart and mind and strength.  All our heart.  Like the Sacred Heart is the emblem of God’s love for us, we must make our own heart a mirror image of the Heart of Jesus that is ready to sacrifice everything for the object of its love.

If nothing else, we must try to make up to the Sacred Heart the terrible offences that are committed daily against him.  We can never make sufficient reparation for these innumerable and infinitely evil sins.  He gave us so much love, and in return man treats him with so much ingratitude, neglect and downright defiance in return.  And it’s getting worse.  We’re reaching a level of iniquity previously unknown in this world, where not only do people fall into sin, but do so willingly and defiantly, marching proudly in the streets to proclaim their contempt for the God who so loves them that he died for them.  It’s beyond our powers of comprehension, and we are overwhelmed with grief when we think on it.  And even then, our horror at the sins of others does not prevent us from adding to it with our own failures, our own sins and  lukewarm response to the love of the Sacred Heart.  May God forgive us for what we do to him!

The Octave of the Sacred Heart lasts until Friday.  Even after that, the month of the Sacred Heart continues for another couple of weeks till the end of June.  Let’s not waste this opportunity to make reparation in our own small way, through prayer and sacrifice.  We owe God so much, and yet we’re prepared to give him so little.  Let’s keep the image of the Sacred Heart of Jesus in our minds and do what we can to give him just a little of the gratitude and adoration we owe him.

GOD IS LOVE: LET HEAVEN ADORE HIM

 A HYMN FOR THE OCTAVE OF SACRED HEART

by Timothy Rees, 1922

 

 

1 God is Love: let heav'n adore him;
God is Love: let earth rejoice;
let creation sing before him,
and exalt him with one voice.
He who laid the earth's foundation,
he who spread the heav'ns above,
he who breathes through all creation,
he is Love, eternal Love.

 

2 God is Love: and he enfoldeth
all the world in one embrace;
with unfailing grasp he holdeth
every child of every race.
And when human hearts are breaking
under sorrow's iron rod,
then they find that selfsame aching
deep within the heart of God.

 

3 God is Love: and though with blindness
sin afflicts the souls of all,
God's eternal loving-kindness
holds and guides us when we fall.
Sin and death and hell shall never
o'er us final triumph gain;
God is Love, so Love for ever
o'er the universe must reign.

LOST AND FOUND

 A MESSAGE FOR THE FEAST OF ST. ANTHONY OF PADUA

Today is the feast of St. Anthony of Padua, a Franciscan and disciple of St. Francis himself.  He was born in Lisbon, the capital of Portugal, and is venerated as the patron saint of that city, as well as Padua in Italy, where he died and where his relics are kept.

 

The traditional practice of praying for St. Anthony's help in finding lost or stolen things is traced to an incident during his lifetime that occurred in Bologna. According to the story, Anthony had a book of psalms that was important to him, as it contained his notes and comments for use in teaching his students. A novice who had chosen to leave had taken the psalter with him. Prior to the invention of the printing press, any book was hand-copied, and thus, an item of high value; a Franciscan friar in particular, given his vow of poverty, would have found such an item difficult to replace. When Anthony realized his psalter was missing, he prayed it would be found or returned, after which the thief was moved to not only return the book to Anthony, but also return to the order. The stolen book is said to be preserved in the Franciscan friary in Bologna, Italy.

 

Since then, St. Anthony has been especially invoked and venerated all over the world as the patron saint for the recovery of lost items and is credited with many miracles involving lost people, lost things and even lost spiritual goods.  Lost love too comes under his purview, and he is known in Portugal, Spain, and Brazil as a marriage saint, because legends exist of him reconciling couples.

 

During his life, St. Anthony was revered as a great preacher.  The story of Anthony preaching to the fish originated in the town of Rimini, where he had gone to preach. When the heretics there treated him with contempt, Anthony was said to have gone to the shoreline, where he began to preach at the water’s edge until a great crowd of fish was seen gathered before him. The people of the town flocked to see this marvel, after which Anthony charged them with the fact that the fish were more receptive to his message than the heretics of the church, at which point the people were moved to listen to his message.

 

After his death, his renown as a preacher had become so widespread that his tongue, jaw, and vocal cords were symbolically chosen as relics for veneration (as was tradition in medieval times) to be displayed in a large reliquary. When his body was exhumed 30 years after his death, it was found turned to dust, but the tongue was claimed to have glistened and looked as if it were still part of a live body; a further claim being made that this was a sign of his gift of preaching.

THE MASTER OF THE HOUSE BEING ANGRY

A SERMON FOR THE SUNDAY WITHIN THE OCTAVE OF CORPUS CHRISTI

We learn from a very early age not to get Dad mad.  When he comes home from work, he’d better not find our toys scattered all over the floor, or our drinks spilled on his favorite chair; he’d better get a good report from Mom that we haven’t been causing her agita.  We learn to do this for one simple reason: we fear the consequences if he isn’t happy with us.  A good father knows how to follow the advice of Teddy Roosevelt—to walk softly and carry a big stick.  He is kind, even gentle when appropriate, but behind all his usual congeniality there’s another kind of love—the tough love that translates into anger—and that his children want to avoid at all cost.  There’s a reason behind this, of course, and it’s all done to train his children to become obedient, loving and responsible members of the family.  Meanwhile, we learn one of life’s most important lessons—that our actions have consequences, and that when we’re good we’re rewarded, and when we’re naughty we’re punished.

A father should instill, therefore, a certain amount of fear in his children.  If he does it right, their fear will be born out of respect for his laws and paternal love for us.  If he’s a bad father, they will fear him all the more, although then it’s most likely the fear of punishment that’s the most influential cause.  Fathers who mete out disproportionate and even violent punishment based on their mood, their lack of control, their drinking habits or whatever, instill the kind of fear that constitutes abuse, sometimes physical, always mental.   This type of fear is not a good fear.  It’s totally different from the virtuous fear we have of a good father.  A good father we fear to upset because we love him, we respect him, we know we deserve the punishments he gives us, and that it is we who are at fault because we have put him in a position where the only thing left for him to do is to punish us.

Our Father in heaven is no different in this respect from any good father here in this world.  He is always loving, and provides us with all the good things we need, from the air we breathe to the loving family we live with, from our good health to a good breakfast.  All good things come from above, from our loving Father in heaven.  Sometimes he might take away certain things from us, not as a punishment so much as to teach us a lesson.  We may lose a job, for example, and be reduced to temporary poverty so that we can learn the value of prioritizing the necessities of life, distinguishing them from the luxuries we can do without, losing some of our attachment to the value of material things.  Or maybe we become sick so that we can be reminded of our mortality and that we need to do more to make sure we save our souls.  When these deprivations occur, we should not curse our Father for taking them away.  We should thank him for the opportunity our new reduced state provides, and we should continue to thank him for all the other good things we still have.  The important thing to realize is that these deprivations are not necessarily “punishments.”  But there will come a time when God the Father really does come home again, to judge the quick and the dead, and his justice will be that of a terrible swift sword.  We always hope for his mercy, of course, but we must fear his justice.  Because if we haven’t behaved sufficiently well, he will punish us.  He’ll punish us with the biggest stick you’ve ever seen.

Our fear should not be put off until Judgment Day.  It should be applied, here and now, to every thought, word and deed we ever have.  We should be afraid, very afraid, and not so much on the punishment we surely deserve, but rather that we might possibly offend God at any given moment.  All our choices, all our decisions in life, everything should be based on the awful possibility that we might offend this loving Father who has been the source of everything good in our life.  We should fear offending him not just because we fear the loss of heaven and the pains of hell, as we say in the Act of Contrition, but because our Father is infinitely good and deserving of all our love.  In the Sacrament of Confirmation, one of the gifts of the Holy Ghost we receive is “Fear of the Lord.”  This fear is a good and healthy fear based on our love of God, knowing that any real punishment we might receive from God is one we would deserve.  He doesn’t get angry for no reason.

Today’s Gospel is a parable.  It tells the story of a man who made a great supper.  Let’s get right to the point here, and explain that this man who makes the supper is our Father in heaven.  And the great supper he makes is the Mass.  The Last Supper of his Son on earth was the first of these “great suppers”, and yes, it was and still is a “great” supper, because it is the greatest gift that God ever gave us.  It is the gift of salvation, the gift of the Mass.  Salvation comes from the Mass, because the Mass is the re-enactment of his Son’s Sacrifice of Calvary, the shedding of his Precious Blood for our sins, the re-opening of the gates of Paradise to us unworthy sinners.  That Precious Blood we receive in Communion is the Blood of the new and everlasting covenant between God the Father and us his children, not merely a symbol, but the Real Presence of his Son’s Body and Blood, his own quintessential divinity.  What greater gift could there ever be?

God the Father asks very little from us with respect to the Mass.  He invites us to attend it.  Just once a week.  And he invites us to partake in this Supper by eating the food he gives us, by receiving Holy Communion, at least once a year.  Even this we have a hard time with.  Like naughty children who can’t be bothered to clean up our toys, by doing a few little chores around the house, we find excuses to neglect our Father’s wishes.  We hardly ever bother going to Confession, we never go to Communion, and many Catholics don’t even bother going to Mass.  And believe me, God is ticked!  The last sentence of today’s Gospel tells us how ticked he is: “For I say unto you, that none of these men which were bidden, shall taste of my supper.”  This supper, this communion with God, is everlasting.  It will continue beyond our life on earth, when our communion with God will last forever.  So if we wish to taste of this everlasting communion, we must obey his invitation here on earth, and stop trying to think of excuses why we should not go to Mass, not receive Communion.  How can we even think of doing this?  We’re doing nothing less than throwing God’s greatest gift of all back in his face.  If that’s what we’re doing, then we should be very afraid for our eternal salvation. “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.”

Ending on a positive note, let’s remember the words of St. John the Evangelist, who takes us past this beginning of wisdom to what lies beyond.  For fear, he reminds us, is an imperfection, and that “perfect love casteth out fear.”  So if you don’t want to fear God and his final judgment, then all you have to do is learn how to love perfectly.  And if you love me, our Lord told us, you’ll keep my commandments.  Obey the laws of God, don’t offend him by sinning, and you’ll never have anything to fear.  Perfection may be beyond our grasp, but God will see our efforts and be merciful even if we don’t always succeed.  Love God, and fear not!

PANGE LINGUA GLORIOSI

 A HYMN FOR CORPUS CHRISTI

by St. Thomas Aquinas, translated by J.M. Neale

Of the glorious Body telling,
O my tongue, its mysteries sing,
And the Blood, all price excelling,
Which the Gentiles' Lord and King,
In a noble womb once dwelling,
Shed for this world's ransoming.

 

Given for us, for us descending
Of a Virgin to proceed,
Man with man in converse blending,
Scattered he the Gospel seed,
Till his sojourn drew to ending,
Which he closed in wondrous deed.

 

At the last great Supper lying,
Circled by his brethren's band,
Meekly with the law complying,
First he finished its command,
Then, immortal Food supplying,
Gave himself with his own hand.

 

Word-made-Flesh, by word he maketh
Very bread his Flesh to be;
Man in wine Christ's Blood partaketh,
And if senses fail to see,
Faith alone the true heart waketh
To behold the mystery.

 

Therefore we, before him bending,
This great Sacrament revere;
Types and shadows have their ending,
For the newer Rite is here;
Faith, our outward sense befriending,
Makes the inward vision clear.

Glory, let us give, and blessing,
To the Father, and the Son;
Honour, might, and praise addressing,
While eternal ages run;
Ever too his Love confessing,
Who from Both, with Both, is One.  Amen.

HOW LOVELY IS THY DWELLING PLACE, O LORD GOD OF HOSTS

 A REFLECTION FOR THE OCTAVE OF CORPUS CHRISTI

We love the beauty of God’s house because it is the place where his glory dwelleth.  It has always been the great joy of Catholics to enter a church and be in the presence of God, to see that red lamp burning in the sanctuary signaling to us that the Word still dwells amongst us, comforting us with the knowledge that we are never alone.  

And this, alas, is why so many churches seem so empty and abandoned today, as altars and tabernacles have been removed, and the silent sense of the sacred has been replaced by nothing at all.  Without God’s physical presence in our midst we have reverted, it seems, to the darkness of the Old Testament when we stood devoid of the Light of the World.  Our empty churches are more than just dark, they stand in an empty darkness reminiscent of the world that existed before the Word of God uttered the first command, “Let there be light.”  However, if you have the good fortune to find a church where the Holy Eucharist still has pride of place, and the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass is conducted with the same solemn reverence passed down to us from the Apostles, a church where Christ in the Blessed Sacrament is still the glory of his people and a light to lighten the nations, if you can find such a church, then rejoice and be exceeding glad.  For thine eyes have seen thy salvation.

This is the glory of the Catholic Church, a glory that has unfortunately been lost in so many churches today.  As Catholics endowed with the firm belief in the Real Presence of Christ, we should never allow the profanities of Vatican II to find their way into our own churches.  In the Holy Apostolic Mass the priest faces away from man and towards God, emphasizing the worship of Christ our King, rather than the Protestant notion of a man-made community gathering.  If we remove the tabernacle so that Christ the King no longer stands before us as the center of our worship, we are left alone with only man for company.

We must pray for the day when our once-Catholic churches are restored to us for the practice of the true Sacrifice.  We must pray for the return of the tabernacle to the front and center of our worship, the living and real presence of God with man.  Without it we are desolate.