THE GREAT COMFORTER

A SERMON FOR THE 4TH SUNDAY AFTER EASTER

Today is the Fourth Sunday after Easter.  Four Sundays already since Our Lord’s glorious Resurrection from the dead, and only a week and a half to go before his equally glorious Ascension into heaven.  Not long now before Our Lord leaves this world to go back to his Father.  These are the twilight times, the last golden days of Our Lord’s earthly visitation, when the Son of God was born of the Virgin Mary, the Divine Word was made flesh, and dwelt amongst us.  In the Gospel he is preparing his apostles for his departure, his return to his Father in heaven.  They know it is getting late and that he cannot stay with them much longer. They are saddened by their master’s imminent departure, and seek to cling to him, like a little boy whose mother has to leave him for a while.  “Abide with me, fast falls the eventide.”  The darkness gathers, and if we are well attuned to the Church’s liturgy, we too will feel that twinge of sadness, that sense of imminent loss.

But make no mistake.  This is no death watch.  Christ has died already.  And on the third day he rose again from the dead.  And so he consoles his disciples that his departure will not be one of sorrow, but that he will rise in glory to the sound of the trumpet.  He consoles them that unless he depart from this world and return to heaven, they will not be able to receive the Holy Ghost:  “It is expedient for you that I go away,” he says. “For if I go not away, the Comforter will not come unto you; but if I depart, I will send him unto you.”  The disciples had no idea what Our Lord was talking about.  Who was this “Comforter” who would come unto them after Our Lord had left them?  They did not know that Christ was telling them about the coming of the Holy Ghost at Pentecost, that the Third Person of the Blessed Trinity would descend upon them with his sevenfold gifts.

To be honest, the apostles had other things on their mind.  This promise that Our Lord made to them in today’s Gospel was actually not made just before his Ascension.  Christ made these promises in a far different context.  It was in fact the night of the Last Supper. They had just eaten their last meal with their Lord before he was betrayed by one of their own, Judas, to be led away to die on Calvary.  This was not a happy time for the apostles, and it is unlikely they were able to concentrate too clearly on this future promise of a Comforter.  And so, and possibly in part for this very reason, Our Lord gave them another gift that night.  He knew they needed to be comforted now.  Not just later after his Ascension.  But now when all the horror of the Great Night of Darkness was about to descend, here, now, was the need for comfort.

Thus was instituted the great Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist.  “This is my Body,” said Our Lord that same night. "My Body that is given for you. This do in remembrance of me.”  Not content with sending us the Third Person of the Blessed Trinity, the Holy Spirit, the Comforter, Christ left us his own Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity in the Holy Eucharist.  The next day, Christ the Eternal High Priest would sacrifice that same Body and Blood to his Father in heaven.  But first he would establish the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, in which that same Body and Blood would be offered daily on the altars of his Holy Catholic Church throughout the ages.  The very same sacrifice as on Calvary, identical, except for the shedding of blood. The same priest, Christ the High Priest. The same Body and Blood of the same Our Lord Jesus Christ, offering the same sacrifice to the same God in heaven. Bringing with it a continuation of the graces and merits that flowed from his sacred wounds on Good Friday.

This, my dear faithful, is the lesson we have before us today.  Not just a Gospel story.  But the reality of what Christ speaks in the Gospel.  We have here a gift so great that we can never comprehend its magnitude.  A gift from the very height and breadth and depth of the infinite God.  A gift from the Sacred Heart of Jesus.  A gift for you and for many, unto the remission of your sins.

I won’t waste your time by reminding you of how our brethren in the conciliar Church have come to treat this greatest of all gifts.  How they chatter away in their churches, clapping their hands, hugging each other, dancing even, all dressed up in their jeans and t-shirts, ready in the depths of their mortal sins to grab the Host from the painted fingernails of some Eucharistic mini-skirted minister.  I don’t need to remind you of what you have already rejected.  Pray for these poor deluded children of God, for they have no idea of what they do.

But what about us?  Let us not even think about congratulating ourselves just because we do not act like gorillas in the presence of God.  We owe more to him than that.  It takes more than wearing a mantilla to be worthy of receiving this Sacrament.  More than putting on your Sunday best, more even than all your fasting and all your prayers.  It takes everything we have, and then it isn’t enough.  So who then shall approach this altar to receive this gift today?  Who considers himself worthy, good enough, to receive Our Lord in Holy Communion?  But let us call to mind the last words we hear before we approach the Communion table to receive Our Lord on our tongue: “Domine, non sum dignus.”  O Lord, I am not worthy.  None of us is worthy.  But God commands us to approach nevertheless.  “Say but the word, and my soul shall be healed.”  By the very act of receiving Holy Communion we are healed. We must never think lightly of receiving Holy Communion.  But neither must we fear to approach.  

The Church requires only three things for you to receive Holy Communion: that you are a baptized Catholic, that you are fasting according to the rules with which you are all familiar, and that you are in a state of sanctifying grace.  We are very familiar with these rules, and I hope none of us would even think of receiving Holy Communion right after eating, or worse yet, in a state of mortal sin.  And by the way, while we’re on the subject, let me just remind you that some of you may be in danger of committing a mortal sin very soon.   Easter Duty!  It binds under pain of mortal sin, don’t forget!  There are only a few weeks left now for you to perform this Easter Duty of Confession and Communion.  Make sure you take care of this and don’t leave it till the last minute.

Now let me ask you another question.  It’s a good question, and one which we hear often enough.  You probably think you have the answer too, but I’d just like to add a few thoughts to the standard response, and then you can see where it leads you.

The question is “how can I best attend Mass?”  “What is the best way of participating in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass?”  Many of the popes have taught us through the ages that the faithful should not just attend the Mass, passively, like mindless sheep grazing in the pasture. You are exhorted to take part in the Mass.  And here of course comes that standard response I mentioned, namely that the best way of attending Mass is by silently but attentively reading with the priest the words of the missal.  Especially the propers of the Mass which vary according to the feast, and which are in keeping with the spirit of the feast or liturgical season.  I cannot stress to you enough the importance of doing this. For many of you it will be enough. But for others it may be just the springboard from which your soul may rise up to contemplate the very essence of what is happening, the renewal of the Sacrifice of Calvary, the re-opening of the Sacred Heart of Jesus from which all blessings flow.  Use a brief passage to focus on, and then be transported into the presence of God, to the very foot of the Cross.  Just as the Blessed Mother participated in her Son’s Sacrifice on Calvary.  Hers was no passive attendance, just standing there watching and feeling depressed. Our Lady united herself with her Son’s intentions, offering him to God the Father as he himself did.  We can share in the role of the priest in some way, by offering this divine Victim to God the Father.  Be careful here.  The Novus Ordo has taken this concept and exaggerated it in such a way as to increase the role of the people, substituting it for the ordained priest (think of those horrible Offertory processions where some well-meaning elderly couple or scantily clad teenagers bring up the “gifts” to the altar, think of those Eucharistic ministers again, priest facing the people instead of towards God, reception of Holy Communion in the un-anointed hands of the non-ordained). But there is still a way for you to participate in this priesthood, simply by joining the priest in offering Our Divine Saviour to Our Father in heaven.

A sacrifice requires not just a priest but also a victim.  And I hardly need to point out that the Novus Ordo doesn’t pay much attention to this aspect of participation in their New Mass.  But in the true Sacrifice of the Mass, of course the Victim is the Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, the “Salutaris Hostia”, the Victim of Salvation.  But this same Lamb of God tells us “Take up your cross and follow me.” We are called too to be victims on our own crosses, our very own Calvaries.  When we pray the first Sorrowful Mystery of the Rosary, when we reallypray it, do we not dare to say the words of Our Lord, “Please, take this chalice of suffering away from me, nevertheless not my will but thine be done.”  Do we not dare to agree to accept whatever crosses God gives us?  And how are those Crosses?  Do they hurt?  Of course they do.  If they didn’t they wouldn’t be crosses.  It’s always so amazing, isn’t it, how we all recite the Our Father: “Thy will be done”, or the Angelus “Be it done unto me according to thy word,” and then complain when God answers our prayer and those heavy crosses are placed upon our shoulders. But this is one of the most effective ways there are to participate in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.  It’s a real participation.  You are offering yourself as a victim, sharing in the suffering of Our Lord, participating in his Sacrifice.   When the priest turns round to you after the Offertory, and says to you “Orate, fratres”, take a look at the words that follow in the Missal: “Pray, brethren, that my sacrifice and yours, may be acceptable unto God, the Father Almighty.”

Make your attendance at Mass on Sunday the great highlight of your week. Not because of the nice music, the beautiful ceremonies, or because you like the smell of incense, or you get to see your friends.  But because it is your great opportunity actually to take part in the Sacrifice of Redemption, offering Our Lord and your very being itself, to God for the salvation of mankind.  Surely, that beats anything else you do during the course of the week?  This is the gift of the Mass, and when Our Lord departs from this earth on Ascension Thursday, and the Light of the World as represented by the Paschal Candle, is extinguished one last time, this gift abides, on our altars, at the Mass, waiting for you. 

COME DOWN, O LOVE DIVINE

A HYMN FOR THE 4TH SUNDAY AFTER EASTER

1 Come down, O Love divine, 
Seek thou this soul of mine, 
And visit it with thine own ardor glowing; 
O Comforter, draw near, 
Within my heart appear, 
And kindle it, thy holy flame bestowing. 

2 O let it freely burn, 
Till earthly passions turn 
To dust and ashes in its heat consuming; 
And let thy glorious light 
Shine ever on my sight, 
And clothe me round, the while my path illuming. 

3 And so the yearning strong,
With which the soul will long,
Shall far outpass the power of human telling;
For none can guess its grace,
Till Love create a place
Wherein the Holy Spirit makes a dwelling.

By Bianco da Siena, translated by Richard Frederick Littledale

EVERY GOOD GIFT IS FROM ABOVE

A MESSAGE FOR THE 4TH SUNDAY AFTER EASTER

Today is a day of thanksgiving. We are always so quick to wonder why God permits bad things to happen to us, and yet we drag our feet, and sometimes forget altogether, when he sends good things our way.   Of course, now and again, when something unusual and significant happens, we might utter the occasional “Thank God!” Even then, our gratitude is often tainted with suspicion.  “Will Kim Jong Un really give up his nuclear weapons, or is this just North Korea’s latest trick?”   And of course, we’re right to have a lack of faith in the goodness of man, especially when they have a track record of trickery and deception, or even if we just don’t know them well enough to be sure of their true intentions.  What we must never do, though, of course, is to lack faith in the goodness of God.  

There are two common sayings that seem to contradict each other.  The first is that we should never look a gift horse in the mouth.  The second is that we should beware the Greeks when they bear gifts.  This second axiom seems the more prudent of the two—after all, if the inhabitants of Troy had looked down the mouth of the Trojan horse, they would have seen the huddled soldiers of the Greek army, poised to climb out and attack as soon as the horse was dragged through the city gates.

But if we remember that all good things come from above, from the Father of lights, then we need have no suspicions that such gifts are not for our own good.  Men may disappoint us, but God never will.  Or as the 117^th Psalm says more simply, “It is better to trust in the Lord, than to put any confidence in man.”

Of course, we still have to make sure that the gift we receive is truly from God.  The devil has a way of making evil things look really attractive, and we would never be tempted if this were not so.  This is why we must be swift to hear but slow to speak.  Listen, observe, analyze, practice the virtue of prudence.  Don’t act until you’re sure this is truly from God, truly a good gift.  And how can we know for certain?  By the fruits of that gift.  St. James tells us that if it is a help in saving our souls, then it is a good gift, and therefore from God.  

From this we learn the true nature of the “good gift”.  It is not, perhaps, what we have always imagined.  We may want to thank God for winning the lottery, but if we use our winnings to increase our greed and selfishness and avarice, it was not thanks to God that we picked the winning numbers. And conversely, if we are suddenly struck with serious medical problems, we tend to ask God to restore our health, rather than to thank him for the opportunity of making reparation for our own sins, or for the sins of those we love. So be very careful when things happen to you: make sure you discern correctly what is indeed a “good” gift from above. But once you are certain it’s for the good of your soul, fall to your knees and offer thanks to the Father of lights.  

PROTECTOR OF HOLY CHURCH

A SERMON FOR THE THIRD SUNDAY AFTER EASTER

For those of us blessed to have been born into a loving, caring family, we hold in our hearts many cherished memories of our childhood.  We remember a place called “Home”, and all the happy times we enjoyed there.  We remember when we first left home, perhaps to go off to college, or to fight overseas in the war, and we remember the wrenching ache in the pits of our stomach as we yearned to be back home, home with our mother and father, our brothers and sisters, home where we were loved and cared for by those we loved the best. Home, sweet home!  And the older ones among us today, what would we give to be back home one more time!

The idea of home, then, is very dear to our heart.  For those fortunate enough to live still at home, you parents and children, thank God for these wonderful days you still have, do all you can to help one another, to work together, to make your home a home after the heart of God, a truly Christian home.  Do this and your home will be to you the dearest spot in this world—a paradise of happiness.

To help us turn our home into such a paradise on earth, God has given us the example of the Holy Family of Nazareth.  Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.  Those loving patrons of family life, perfect examples each in their own way of how a mother, a father, a child should be.  Holy Mary, God’s Blessed Mother, was a model of purity, charity, and godliness, caring for her divine Son with tender, loving affection.  Her spouse, the good Saint Joseph, the provider, the protector, taking care of his spouse and the Child entrusted to him.  And Our Lord himself, who the Gospel tells us, was obedient unto them.  How could a home like theirs not have been anything but the most sublime and loving paradise on earth?  An example for us all to follow.

Today is the Third Sunday after Easter, and the Sunday within the Octave of the Solemnity of St. Joseph.  We have already celebrated the first and more ancient feast of St. Joseph on March 19^th.  But this date always falls during Lent, and so we are prevented by the somber atmosphere of fasting and penance from celebrating the feast with all the solemnity it deserves.  And so the Church provides us, on the Wednesday during the second week after Easter, with a more fitting Solemnity of St. Joseph, complete with an octave, a full eight days where we can contemplate the virtues and example of this great saint, foster father of Our Lord Jesus Christ.

On his first feastday on March 19^th, we celebrate St. Joseph as the Spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary.  We are reminded at that time of St. Joseph’s diligent protection of his Spouse and the young child entrusted to them both by God. Together, Mary and Joseph looked after the Christ Child, who loved his parents so much on earth that he gave them the highest rewards in heaven.  But over and above that eternal recompense in heaven, he also rewarded them by allowing them to continuelooking after him here on earth.  “How so?” you may ask.  Certainly, our Lord’s physical body no longer dwells amongst us in the same way it did when they lived together in Nazareth.  But what about his mystical body, the Church?  Remember how, from the Cross, our Lord gave his blessed Mother to St. John.  “Son, behold thy Mother,” he told St. John, giving him the task of looking after his Blessed Mother through her old age.  But when he turned to his Mother and said “Mother, behold thy son,” he was giving her the task not of looking after St. John specifically, but the whole Church he represented.  He was giving her to us, so that we might flee to her protection, implore her help, and not be left forsaken.  And he did no less for good Saint Joseph.  His foster father had done such a good job of protecting the Holy Family that he was given another role to play in the history of our redemption, one that he continues to work at long after his death, even unto the present time.  Through the decrees and liturgy of his Holy Church, God has made St. Joseph the supreme Patron and Protector of that Church.  And it is in this aspect that we revere St. Joseph on this second of his feastdays, this great Solemnity and its Octave which we are currently celebrating.

And is it not truly right and fitting, that St. Joseph should be not only the head of the Holy Family, the head of the household, the head of the home, but that he should also be the head of that other great Family, the family to which we all belong, the family of the Church!    This Church which is, or should be, our secondhome.  Not just the entire family of the Roman Catholic Church, but even our own intimate little family here at St. Margaret Mary’s.  I hope your memories of thishome will one day fill you with the same happy memories, the remembrance that here you were cared for, here you were loved, here you were fed with the graces of the Sacraments, here you experienced that peace and joy of being in the presence of God in the tabernacle, and in your souls at Holy Communion.  Prepare now for a future that will bring you such happy memories.  Don’t waste your opportunities to make this second home your paradise on earth.  Pray to St. Joseph, especially during this great Octave, that he will grant that prayer we say in the 26^thPsalm:  “One thing have I desired of the Lord, which I will require; even that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life.”

To dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life.  To dwell in the state of sanctifying grace, a member of God’s holy Church, God’s holy Family.  All the days of my life.  And then what?  Those “days of my life” and your lives, are slowly ticking away.  In the midst of life we are in death.  Slowly (or perhaps more quickly than we know) we are approaching that portal we call death.  It is a portal, a gate, by which we leave our home here in this world, and go to our eternal home in the next.  It is a portal that we fear, perhaps, because it is outside our experience, unknown. And God understands this fear, and has given us a helper for that day on which we take the step from this world to the next.  And we should not be surprised that this helper, this Patron Saint of the Dying, is again, St. Joseph.  He who according to tradition, died blissfully in the arms of Jesus and Mary.  Who could ask for a more blessed death than that?  St. Joseph is the Patron of the Universal Church. Universal—in other words, the three branches of the Church, he is the patron not just of the Church Militant, of the faithful here on earth, but also of the Church Suffering in Purgatory and the Church Triumphant in heaven.  St. Joseph is there with us wherever we go, precisely because he is the Patron of the entire universal Church, Militant, Suffering and Triumphant.  And so he provides for us and protects us in this life, he prays for us during our sojourn in Purgatory, and he rejoices with us when we reach our final destination.  And he remains with us every step of the journey, just as he accompanied the Blessed Mother every step of the way from Nazareth to Bethlehem, as he accompanied her and their Son during the Flight into Egypt, and later back to their home in Nazareth.  He remains with us as we transition from Church Militant to Church Suffering, and from Church Suffering to Church Triumphant.  He abides with us in our transitions from one home to another.

In the Church’s liturgical cycle, we are currently in one such period of transition.  Our Blessed Lord has risen from the dead, and soon he will ascend into heaven.  Listen to our Lord’s words in today’s Gospel:  “A little while, and ye shall not see me:  and again, a little while, and ye shall see me, because I go to the Father.” Because Our Lord wants us to look beyond the narrow boundaries of our own home here in this life.  He bids us look beyond the grave; he points heavenward, and bids us think of our “eternal home.”  

In spite of our Easter joy, we are now starting to feel a twinge of sadness in the knowledge that Christ must leave us.  We are now counting down the days to the moment when he will rise up and be seen no more until the end of time, that moment when the paschal candle will be extinguished, and the light of the risen Saviour dimmed until his Second Coming.  Our Lord himself must have experienced his own feeling of sadness when his foster father St. Joseph died.  For at some point during Christ’s first hidden years before his public ministry, he must have died, or surely there would be some mention of him in the Gospels. Would our Lord have attended the wedding feast of Cana with his blessed Mother, but without St. Joseph?  Surely not.  At some point, Christ must have experienced the sorrow of bereavement, in spite of knowing full well that it was only to be for a relatively short time. Now it was his turn to ascend into heaven, and he wanted to prepare his disciples for that event, knowing full well the depth of sorrow that comes when our loved ones depart from us indefinitely.

There is a famous English hymn, which is typically sung at funerals, but which can be applied equally well to this time of year.  Its first lines are taken from the Vespers of Eastertide: “Abide with me, fast falls the eventide.”  Let us make these words our own, as we seek to keep Our Blessed Lord with us as long as we can.  Cling to the hem of his garment, and ask him to abide with us.  But at the same time be consoled by his response:  “And ye now therefore have sorrow:  but I will see you again, and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no man shall take from you.”  Our heavenly home sweet home awaits.

This is where we should be looking during these forty days.  Towards our eternal destiny.  Every day during this season we say these words at the Office of Prime:  “If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God.  Set your affections on things above, not on things on the earth.”  St. Joseph will help us if we ask him.  He will help us through our life, through our death, our suffering and our triumph.  Let’s keep the name of this our beloved Patron always on our lips, and the sight of our eternal home ever before our eyes.  And when that final moment comes, when death’s dark shadow falls upon us, we shall place ourselves under St. Joseph’s protection, and dare to ask our blessed Saviour, in the words of that old hymn:

Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes;
Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies.
Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee;
In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.

DEAR ST. JOSEPH, SPOUSE OF MARY

A HYMN FOR THE 3rd SUNDAY AFTER EASTER

Dear St. Joseph, pure and gentle, 
Guardian of the Saviour child, 
Treading with the virgin mother, 
Egypt's deserts rough and wild.

Chorus:Hail, St. Joseph, spouse of Mary, 
Blessed above all saints on high,
When the death-shades round us gather, 
Teach, oh, teach us how to die.

He who rested on thy bosom
Is by countless saints adored; 
Prostrate angels in His presence 
Sing hosannas to their Lord.

Now to thee no gift refusing,
Jesus stoops to hear thy prayer;
Then, dear saint, from thy fair dwelling, 
Give to us a father's care.

Dear St. Joseph, kind and loving,
Stretch to us a helping hand;
Guide us through life's toils and sorrows
Safely to the distant land.

In the strife of life be near us,
And in death, oh, hover nigh,
Let our souls on thy sweet bosom
To their home of gladness fly.

Thou hast known a pilgrim's sorrows,
But thy day of toil is o'er;
Help us while we journey onward 
Lead us to the peaceful shore.

Hail St. Joseph, just and holy,
Loving children breathe thy name;
Here below, through toil and danger,
Love and care from thee we claim.

A CLOKE OF MALICIOUSNESS

A MESSAGE FOR THE 3RD SUNDAY AFTER EASTER

We have in today’s Epistle a friendly little reminder from St. John the Apostle that life is, and yet at the same time, is not all about “freedom.”  Freedom, or liberty, is a fine old word that makes us feel warm and fuzzy inside, especially on the Fourth of July, but which in reality is very much a two-edged sword. For freedom is something that must be distinguished.  We learn in our childhood, that while we may be “free” to choose any action we want, that freedom comes with the accompanying duty to choose what Godwants.  So are we free or aren’t we?  Yes, we canchoose to do evil.  But no, we maynot choose to do evil.  Our free will is a gift fromGod, but we have the obligation and duty to use that free will correctly.

So when St. John reminds us that we must not use our liberty as a cloke of maliciousness, he is in fact alerting us to the danger of misunderstanding the true nature of that liberty.  The godless people of the world fall so very easily into this trap, making freedom one of the semi-divine members of their false Trinity of Liberty, Equality and Fraternity.  Even before the French Revolution, this country adopted a Bill of Rights that canonized the so-called rights of its citizens—freedom of speech, freedom of religion, and so on. Every blue-blooded American cherishes these rights, and is justly upset when they are trampled on by the lunatic left. And yet, we should hesitate to embrace so completely a concept of freedom that was never intended by our Creator. When we read our copy of the Declaration of Independence in our right hand, we should make sure that our left hand is holding today’s Epistle.  For how can we as true Christians “hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness?” We can certainly believe in these rights, but it must be a belief founded on our knowledge of and faith in God.

Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness?  What do the progressives mean by the Right to life, when they clamor for an ever-greater number of abortions?  And by the right to liberty, you can be sure they don’t mean the freedom to act according to the will of God, but rather the freedom to do whatever they want.  As for the Right to Pursue Happiness, they will seek out that happiness in every nook and cranny of their desires, except where it is truly to be found—in the grace and peace of God.   These people claim to be “liberals”, but are, in reality, anything but, using the word as a “cloke of maliciousness”, pursuing liberty as an end in itself, and refusing their role as “servants of God.”  Try teaching them the true nature of liberty, and you’ll find out how “liberal” they are!  

Like most “liberal” documents, our cherished Declaration of Independence bears a correct interpretation. We must take care to know what that interpretation is, so that, as St. John tell us, “with well doing we may put to silence the ignorance of foolish men.”

ALL WE LIKE SHEEP

A SERMON FOR GOOD SHEPHERD SUNDAY

During the darkest hours of the night, the Church’s thoughts revert to the worship of God.  In monasteries and abbeys and convents all over the world, monks and nuns, souls dedicated to God, rise from their beds in the middle of the night, and make their way to the chapel.  There, by the light of the flickering candles, they will sing the Office of Matins, their solemn chant rising through the night air, even as incense in the sight of God.  And each night the Office begins with the chanting of what is called the Invitatory, the invitation or call to prayer, the 94^thpsalm.  And as the world sleeps, these men and women of God sing through this psalm, until suddenly, in the middle of their solemn verses, they come to these words, and fall to their knees, calling upon all Christians everywhere to adore their God:  “O come, let us worship and fall down, and kneel before the Lord our Maker: For he is the Lord our God; and we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.”

We are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.  Reflect for a moment, this Good Shepherd Sunday, on the utter simplicity of these words, and the humility it takes to say them and mean them. We have no trouble of course, thinking about Our Blessed Lord as the Good Shepherd.  But did we ever really stop to consider what that makes us?  We are the sheep of his pasture.  Now if anyone were to tell you that you were a bunch of sheep, I’m sure that your first reaction would be to take offence. Who wants to be thought of as a sheep? For after all, what is a sheep? Nothing more than a stupid animal, mindlessly following the sheep in front of him, as the flock moves about, bleating, without a single thought in its collective head.  The sheep has none of the aggression and hunting skills of animals like the lion.  It has none of the cunning of the fox, none of the loyalty of the dog, none of the usefulness of a beast of burden like the horse, the ox, the mule.  The sheep is just a mindless creature, too stupid even to fight or complain when it’s being led to the slaughter.  No.  We don’t want to be thought of as a sheep.

But many of our enemies often do refer to us Catholics as ignorant sheep. According to them, that’s exactly what we are, sheep who mindlessly accept whatever Rome tells us.  Never thinking to question anything, we blindly follow our popes and bishops, doing whatever they tell us to do, believing whatever they tell us to believe, not a single original thought in our heads. Just obeying, always ready to fill the pews on Sundays to be fleeced by our shepherds.

Obviously, we must take some time here to make distinctions.  All comparisons fail in one or another aspect, and this is no exception.  So we must take the aspects of “sheepness”, and reflect on which of those aspects should apply to us and which we must reject.  For a start, don’t be the type of sheep that blindly follows anyshepherd, good or bad.  Our Lord tells us to beware the false shepherd.  You already took this stand when you rejected the changes of Vatican II.  You have turned your backs on the false shepherds that have tried to lead you astray, and so in this sense you have acted notlike mindless sheep, but have obeyed the advice given by St. Paul, that “if any manpreach any other gospel unto you than that ye have received, let him be accursed.”  You have not practiced the kind of blind obedience that follows the false shepherd, as he leads you over the cliff of heresy, or delivers you to the wolves of false ecumenism, married clergy, the destruction of the Mass and the Sacraments.  See to it that you continue to remain faithful to this “same gospel that ye have received”.  Beware of anyfalse shepherds, anyman, pope, bishop, priest, conciliar ortraditional, who suggests anything to you which is not according to the faith we have been taught.  Never listen to suggestions merely because they appear to come from a pious man, nor because they seem to be prompted by a regard to the will of God.  We may be always sure that, if we are to be tempted, it will be by someone having a great appearance of virtue and religion.  

So what kind of sheep are we supposed to be then?  Obviously not by blindtrust in our shepherds today.  Today’s Gospel shows us how we should approach this.  It shifts the focus from us as the sheep to Our Lord as the Shepherd. The Good Shepherd, who lays down his life for his sheep.  So let us take a brief look at the role of the shepherd, so that we can find our own true identity ashis sheep.

The shepherd’s job, simply put, is to look after the sheep.  To care for them.  He loves them, feeds them, and guards them.   The shepherd is the man who will make sure they are fed, that they are led to waters where they can drink in safety, he will look after them when they are sick, search for them when they are lost, protect them when they are attacked by the ravening wolves.  All this is the job of the shepherd.  Some shepherds have their hearts only partly in their job.  These are the mercenaries Our Lord talks about, those who don’t mind feeding the sheep, watching over them, but at the first sign of trouble run away, saving their own skin and leaving the poor sheep to the wolves. But the good shepherd does more.  He is not content with just feeding and guarding his sheep.  He is ready to lay down his life for his sheep.  And of course, the pre-eminent Good Shepherd, Our Lord himself, did just that, giving his sheep life at the cost of his own.  He came into the world in search of men, who, like stray sheep, had wandered away from the sheepfold, and had become lost in the dark valley of sin. And he died for these, his people, the sheep of his pasture.

So we can see perhaps a little better now, that when Our Lord refers to himself as the Good Shepherd and to us as the sheep of his pasture, he is providing us with a striking and most beautiful analogy of the loving relationship between God and his people.  And in this analogy, the aspects that apply to us now become obvious.  Who among us has not been at one time or another one of those “stray sheep”, wandering around helplessly in sin.  Which of us does not need to be loved, fed, and protected? Are we not all fed by our Good Shepherd with sound doctrine, the great truths of the Faith, and above all the Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist?  Are we not all protected by our Good Shepherd, who preserves our souls daily from the attacks of the devil by his loving grace?  Is there anyone amongst us who can honestly say that God does not love him, or her, and in fact that he didn’t love each of us enough to die on the Cross for us that we might have eternal life?  This is our Good Shepherd, and we are the sheep of his pasture.  We are the trusting, grateful sheep, who place all our confidence, all our faith, in this our Good Shepherd, who follow him wheresoever he leads us.  And we will stay faithful to him, not straying from our pasture, but as loyal sons and daughters of the Church, preserving our Faith, our Holy Mass, our Sacraments.  And in this pasture of the Good Shepherd, we place ourselves entirely in his hands, and because he is a “Good” Shepherd, we will have nothing to fear under his protection, and we will want for nothing.

“The Lord is my Shepherd, there is nothing I shall want: he maketh me to lie down in green pastures.  He leadeth me beside the still waters, he restoreth my soul.  He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his Name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me.  Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.  And surely thy mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.  And I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever. ”  (Psalm 22)

The Latin word for shepherd is “pastor”.  So when we priests read the Gospel of Good Shepherd Sunday, we read it from a different point of view than you, the faithful.  Like you, we too are the sheep of his pasture.  But we are also conscious of the very heavy burden of responsibility we have as your pastors, your shepherds, the ones whom God has chosen, for better or worse, to lead his people and the sheep of his flock. None of us can say, like Christ, “I am the Good Shepherd.”  If we do compare ourselves ever with the Good Shepherd, it is only to realize our own shortcomings in performing our duties as shepherds of souls.  For this reason, I ask you today to please pray for your pastors, your shepherds.  Ask God to grant us the graces we need to feed you with the right doctrine, to provide you with the true Mass, valid and holy sacraments, to protect you from errors of the faith and from dangers to your morals, to heal you when you are sick with the Sacraments of Penance and Extreme Unction, to seek you out when you go astray.  Orate pro nobis!

But please, don’t even think of going astray!  There are wolves out there when you wander over the river and into the woods.  Many demons and other beasts of prey who go about as a roaring lion seeking whom they may devour.   As we say in Compline every night:  “Whom resist ye, steadfast in the faith.”  So stay safe in the true fold of this Faith, safe in God’s grace, remain as God’s people and the sheep of his pasture.  So that “when the Son of man shall come in his glory, and all the holy angels with him,” you may be gathered together by the Good Shepherd one last time.   For “then shall he sit upon the throne of his glory:  and before him shall be gathered all nations:  and he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth hissheep from the goats:  and he shall set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left.  Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.”

THE LORD'S MY SHEPHERD

A HYMN FOR GOOD SHEPHERD SUNDAY

1. The Lord’s my Shepherd, I’ll not want;
   He makes me down to lie
   In pastures green; He leadeth me
   The quiet waters by.
2. My soul He doth restore again,
   And me to walk doth make
   Within the paths of righteousness,
   E’en for His own name’s sake.
3. Yea, though I walk in death’s dark vale,
   Yet will I fear no ill;
   For Thou art with me, and Thy rod
   And staff my comfort still.
4. My table Thou hast furnished me
   In presence of my foes;
   My head Thou dost with oil anoint,
   And my cup overflows.
5. Goodness and mercy all my life
   Shall surely follow me;
   And in God’s house forevermore,
   My dwelling place shall be.
6. By Francis Rous, 1650
7. 
   

ONE FOLD AND ONE SHEPHERD

A MESSAGE FOR GOOD SHEPHERD SUNDAY

It is one of the most confusing and difficult issues that we have to deal with today, the schism that has taken place within the Catholic Church since Vatican II.  We are probably tired of even thinking about the rupture in the Church’s unity, resigning ourselves to the status of victimhood:  we are victims of the modernists, victims of the freemasons, victims of faithless popes, bishops and clergy.  As victims, we dare to compare ourselves to the Lamb of God, the “lamb led to the slaughter.” Like him we resign ourselves to be “oppressed and afflicted, yet we open not our mouths: we are brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so we open not our mouths.”

“Not so,” you might say.  And indeed we have rebelled to the extent that we are here today, attending a Mass that at first glance is in defiance of the laws of the Roman Catholic Church. Of course, we justify ourselves (correctly) by pointing out that we obey the higher law, which is to preserve the faith intact, even when that Roman Catholic Church herself appears to be preaching a new and unfamiliar faith.  We may seem to be outside the “one fold” mentioned by our Lord in the gospel today. We may even give the appearance of being contemptuous of the “one shepherd” who claims to be Pope.  And yet, our motives are pure and our reasoning sincere when we deny this shepherd’s authority to betray his own sheep.

However, as right as we may be, we must never lose sight of the fact that none of this is God’s will.  While our reaction to the situation may be the only correct one, this does not excuse the situation itself.  Nor does the fact that we may rightfully point the finger of guilt at the shepherd make our own position any easier to uphold.  For we are not “The Church.” We are merely the remnants of what God wants the Church to be, the last ones to cling to Christ’s teachings, his moral imperatives, and sacramental graces.  It is not an enviable position, at least not by the world’s standards.  The only way to uphold that position is by keeping the eyes of our faith fixed on this one uplifting truth, that we who appear to be outside the fold and in defiance of its shepherd are actually the ones who have been called by God to suffer through these extraordinary times, not as the victims of circumstances, but as the chosen few who should humbly work for the preservation and restoration of all things holy.

Our role is not to lose the willpower to continue, it is not to give up the fight, thinking of ourselves as victims, lambs led to the slaughter.  On the contrary, we must rise to the task God has given us, and lead the real sheep away from the slaughter of the New Church and back to the one fold, restored to her God-willed unity in the one true faith. We are called by God not to be lambs led to the slaughter, but to lead lambs from the slaughter, not to be sheep, but shepherds.

HELP THOU OUR UNBELIEF

A SERMON FOR LOW SUNDAY

Since the day of his Resurrection, Christ had appeared many times, to his blessed Mother, to St. Mary Magdalene, to his apostles.  These apostles, most of whom lost their faith completely when Our Lord was put to death on the cross, were finally beginning to come to grips with the idea that his resurrection was real, that it was in fact the proof they needed that this man was indeed the Son of God.  They had gone to hide in the Cenacle, the room where Our Lord had celebrated the first Mass and ordained them as the first priests of his New Covenant with man. This Cenacle was a place filled with good memories, comforting memories, memories they apparently needed to get them through those anxious times surrounding Good Friday.  So now they returned to these familiar surroundings after they started hearing rumors that our Lord had appeared to Mary Magdalene. And then, in the course of that first Easter week, they were amazed as Christ appeared to them also, and they had been able to see him for themselves.  He came to them, he even shared a meal with them, demonstrating clearly he was not a ghost, not an apparition, but a living, breathing human being.  And their faith had returned.

They had all seen him that day.  All except two of them—Judas of course, who had lost his faith entirely and was now dead; and Thomas.  For some reason, Thomas had not been there during the week when Our Lord came and shared bread with the other apostles.  When they told him that Christ was risen, he could not bring himself to believe.  Maybe he was afraid of being disappointed.  Could he really believe his friends?  Or was it a case of mistaken identity, or a hallucination?  Or maybe they wanted to teach him a lesson for not being there the other day?  All he knew was that Christ was dead, and dead men don’t come back to life.  He knew this.  Or did he?  Hadn’t he seen with his own eyes when Our Lord had raised Lazarus from the dead just a week or so ago?  But this was different.  Christ surely couldn’t raise himselffrom the dead…  If he was dead, how could he do anything?

So Thomas was wracked with doubt.  Like so many others before him who had doubted, Thomas asked for a sign “that he might believe”.  His words of unbelief echo those others had uttered during the course of our Lord’s ministry, those who could not bring themselves to believe that Jesus was the long-awaited Messiah.  And our Lord rebuked them for asking for a sign instead of believing. His rebuke came in the form of a prophesy: “An evil and adulterous generation seeketh after a sign; and there shall no sign be given to it, but the sign of the prophet Jonas: for as Jonas was three days and three nights in the whale's belly; so shall the Son of man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth.”  

Thomas had heard this prophesy, and when the other apostles bore witness to the resurrection after our Lord had indeed been three days and nights in the heart of the earth, he should have believed. Thomas heard all this, and yet did not believe, he could not allow himself to “get his hopes up” and give credence to something so apparently impossible as the Resurrection.  Not only did he not believe, he even had the temerity to repeat the mistake of the unbelieving Jews.  He asked for a sign.  Worse than that, the sign he asked for was more in the form of an ultimatum: “Except I shall see in his hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, and thrust my hand into his side, I will not believe.”

Whatever mitigating motive Thomas may have had in being reluctant to believe, it fades in the light of his arrogant challenge that Christ should appear to him, not only showing him his five Sacred Wounds, but allowing him to touch them.  Even though he might see them for himself with his own eyes, it would still not be enough for Thomas.

Before we condemn Thomas, let us remember that he is SaintThomas.  He not only saved his soul, but is placed before us as a worthy example of holiness that we should follow.  Not, of course, in his unbelief, but in the example of humble contrition for his unbelief in the words “My Lord and my God!”

For, after all, who among us has not at one time or another been tempted with doubt?  Like St. Thomas, we doubt.  If we had faith, if we believed that our Lord and our God was present before us in this Blessed Sacrament of the Altar, if we truly believed that our Lord Jesus Christ desires to be close to us, to be received by us sacramentally, how could we even for a moment be so contemptuous of this greatest of gifts that we would not give up everything we have, everything we love, in order to be present at Mass.  Nothing would get in our way, nothing would stop us from being there, every week, every day if possible.  The union with God that we experience in Holy Communion is the foretaste of our everlasting happiness in union with God that one day will be ours in heaven, if only we would truly believein Christ’s real presence in the Eucharist, and if we choose to respond to God’s love by receiving that Holy Eucharist in the Blessed Sacrament.

Christ is hidden in the Blessed Sacrament.  We don’t see him.  We see nothing but bread, we smell wine.   The Church tells us that this is Christ our Saviour, but like St. Thomas, we have a hard time bringing ourselves to believe.  If we doubt, we do not commit a sin.  It is a temptation.  We sin only if we willingly choose to reject belief.  But our doubt is dangerous nonetheless, and so often prevents us from joyfully receiving Christ.   Doubting Thomas made that mistake, he was so reluctant to welcome Our Lord back from the dead.  

It is not doubt if we question whyGod hides himself from us. There is an answer to that question: if he didn’t, if we could see him and hear him for ourselves, dwelling amongst us here today, there would be no need for faith.  We would not have to give that loving assent to what he has taught us, to the instructions he gave us that unless we eat his Flesh and drink his Blood we will have no life in us.  He looks to us to have that faith.

Our faith is something that we must pray for constantly, that we may believe ever more firmly in the truths Our Lord gives us. Sometimes that is hard.  We can have intellectual doubts, doubts about the faith, such as those raised by atheists or bad books like the Da Vinci Code. Or doubts can be spiritual in nature, such as when we doubt we are forgiven for past sins, or we doubt we can grow in virtue.  The most common kind of doubt comes with the circumstances of life: “Why did my child die?” “Why did the fire destroy my home?” “Where was God when these terrible things happened to me?”  God understands these doubts, and is always ready to comfort us when we have them. These doubts are not necessarily sinful, but they are very dangerous, and if we don’t run for comfort into the arms of Our Lord at the communion rail, we run the risk that our doubts may become spiritual in their nature: “What’s the point of trying if God just lets us get hurt anyway?”  Or they may even become intellectual doubts: “No loving God would ever allow this to happen. There is no God.  If there is a God he must be a cruel monster to permit such things.”   

Doubt is a temptation, and like any temptation it tries to lead us down a dangerous path.  It reminds me of a movie that came out last year, the true story of some crazy man who managed to string a cable between the twin towers of the old World Trade Center, and then walked across it.  We’re like that man on the cable, balancing ourselves between unbelief and the other extreme of gullibility.  Yes, we’re right to be cautious about things we read or hear, fake news and all the nonsense in the tabloids and on the internet, but when God reveals something to us through the Church, thenwe must believe.  And the moment we doubt is the moment we start wobbling on that tightrope. Remember St. Peter, who had so much faith that he jumped out of his boat and walked on water to meet his master. But then he doubted: “When he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid; and beginning to sink, he cried, saying, Lord, save me. And immediately Jesus stretched forth his hand, and caught him, and said unto him, O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?”. When we find ourselves wobbling on our tightrope, or sinking into waters of doubt, St. Peter gives us the example of what we must do.  We must cry out as he did, with the simple words “Lord, save me.”  And Christ will stretch forth his hand and catch us. He may rebuke us for doubting, but he will catch us.

We must learn this lesson now and fix it in our minds, so that, God forbid, when something really bad happens to us, we have that faith in God, and trust him to lead us, like St. Peter, back to the safety of the ship.  Don’t come to me, and say “Father, father, why did God let this happen?” Prepare your faith now for the tests to come, so that it is not shaken in the winds of fate.  When our Lord saved St. Peter, he took him back to the ship, and as the Gospel tells us, “the wind ceased.”  The ship of course is St. Peter’s own ship, the barque of Peter, a symbol of the Church. Here in the Church, we should find the calm and stability of the unchanging faith, and our own belief returns as the winds of change around us cease.  If we do not find that stability, then it is not the true Church, and we must seek until we find one, like St. Margaret Mary’s here, where your soul can be at rest.  When the wind ceased, and the barque of Peter settled down, “Then they that were in the ship came and worshipped him, saying, Of a truth thou art the Son of God.”

The faith is gradually disappearing.  Fewer and fewer people have the true faith.  This is not surprising when the so-called “Holy Father” is now teaching his children that hell doesn’t exist.  Each of you here has been chosen especially by God to keep and maintain the great Catholic Faith that has been passed down through untold millions of faithful from the apostles to this present day when there are so few.  We have been blessed with that faith in abundance, and blessèd in eternity shall be the names of this congregation here present as long as you keep that faith. Let not one of us fail to maintain it, let not one of us gathered here today ever doubt and be the cause of the loss of our greatest gift.  And if doubt is expelled from our midst, if we keep the faith of our fathers, if we truly increase this faith, it will lead to a greater love of God that will drive us, inexorably, to the union we may enjoy in this life with God, present at the Mass, present in the Blessed Sacrament.  Let’s not wait until we are enjoying the eternal blissful union with God that this sacrament foreshadows.  Let’s repeat the words of St. Peter, “Lord, save me,” and reach out our arms to God that he may catch us from falling, and then let us return to the safety and calm of our true Church, where we have the true Mass and the Real Presence.  And then may the winds of our doubt cease, so that we may behold the Body of Christ, not just placing our fingers into the wounds of that Body, but absorbing that Body—and that Blood, and that Soul, and that Divinity into our own Body, and gasping with renewed faith the words of St. Thomas, “My Lord and my God.”

FIRMLY I BELIEVE AND TRULY

A HYMN FOR LOW SUNDAY

1  Firmly I believe and truly
God is Three and God is One;
and I next acknowledge duly
manhood taken by the Son.

2  And I trust and hope most fully
in that manhood crucified;
and each thought and deed unruly
do to death, as he has died.

 

3  Simply to his grace and wholly
light and life and strength belong,
and I love supremely, solely,
him the holy, him the strong.

4  And I hold in veneration,
for the love of him alone,
Holy Church as his creation,
and her teachings as his own.

5  Adoration ay be given,
with and through the angelic host,
to the God of earth and heaven,
Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.  Amen.

By John Henry Cardinal Newman