THE LITURGICAL YEAR

Sermons, hymns, meditations and other musings to guide our annual pilgrim's progress through the liturgical year.

Sunday, February 24, 2019

GRAPES OF WRATH

A SERMON FOR SEXAGESIMA


If our audience today were limited to adults over the age of 21, my words to you this morning would be a good deal more graphic than those to which I’m limited. But why, you might ask?  What am I seeing in the biography of St. Paul, or the parable of the mustard seed, that you’re not seeing?  Actually, the answer is nothing, but let’s not forget that other reading, the one the priests read at Matins.  Last week it was all about the creation of man.  We saw how all the beauties of the world was made out of nothing for the sake of this one chosen creature, picked out of all eternity to be God’s loving companion forever.  We saw man’s response to this incredible privilege, his disobedience to the one and only law, his betrayal of God’s confidence and love, and the bitter consequences that would befall not only us, his descendants, but one descendant in particular, our Blessed Lord, son of Mary, Eve’s offspring, who would give up his last drop of Blood for us.

This betrayal should appall us.  We should be left shaken by the magnitude of the disloyalty of our first parents. Saddened, certainly, but angry even. If we’re not, if we are not moved by this story to some form of anger and/or sadness, our insensitivity can come from only one of two things: either we don’t understand what happened, or if we have understood how evil an act this was, because we simply don’t care.  Let’s be honest with ourselves now and look at our sinful life, our own response to Adam’s sin, a sin which, by the way, we have had the enormous grace to have had lifted away through Baptism, and then let’s decide which category we fall into.  Are we sad and angry, or are we unmoved and uninterested? 

This period of Shrovetide is meant to stir us out of that lethargy of spiritual inaction that deadens our soul for most of the year.  Lent’s coming, we’re going to be following our Blessed Lord to some dreadful places, Gethsemane, the prison in Jerusalem, Calvary.  We can’t afford to be emotionally carefree when we accompany our Savior to these places.  Last week it was Adam’s sin that should have woken us up.  This week, it’s the story of Noah.

Adam’s descendants wasted no time in showing God what they thought about his beautiful promise of a Saviour to come.  They fell, in other words, into the category of not caring that they would eventually be damned.  It started with Cain’s murder of his brother Abel, and it was all downhill from there. In the Garden of Eden, history got off to a roaring start of sin and depravity, and there seemed no end to its depths.  It became so bad that the Bible says that God “repented” of having created man.  This of course is just man’s attempt to express God’s anger and sadness in human terms—God cannot make be mistaken, and therefore cannot repent of having done something wrong.  But let’s face it, God was not happy at all with man’s abuse of the free will he had been given.  Their first abuse, the biting of the apple, was just the start.  It wasn’t really an apple, remember, but the fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.  Now man really knew the meaning of good and bad, that “good” and “God” go together, and so do “evil” and “devil”.  And the vast majority of them chose the latter.

So what happened?  What was God’s response to this almost universal option for evil?  He sent a chastisement.  The Great Flood.  And in it, he drowned every man, woman, child on the planet.  Even the animals were not spared.  The planet was covered with the depths of the sea, and if you were looking down on the planet earth at that time from some rescue plane, all you would have seen would be a dark planet covered with nothing but endless ocean depths, in which nothing but fish could survive.  

But this terrible Flood was not just a punishment for the wicked.  Look more closely, and you’ll notice something else bobbing up and down on the waves.  Take out your binoculars, scour those depths long enough, and you’ll see what looks like a tiny boat in the distance.  Get a little closer, and you’ll see it’s actually quite large.  Big enough in fact to contain a man, his three sons and their wives, and two animals of every kind.  For God, in one of his greatest acts of mercy and love, had chosen to spare one family, and for his sake enough animals to keep them fed and clothed.  In other words, he spared mankind, because Noah’s three sons and daughters-in-law had been chosen to regenerate the world’s population.  And the important point is that this new population would now remember the story of the Great Flood.  From now on we would all realize God’s power over life and death, and even if we didn’t love God enough (which we don’t), we would avoid sin out of fear of being punished. Because of the chastisement of the Great Flood, we would now have to mitigate our lust for pleasure and sinfulness with the knowledge that God can, any time he wants, simply wipe us out.  We know now that there are consequences to our action, consequences of which the Great Flood was merely our warning.  We are now painfully aware that sin has consequences, that by our actions we stand to lose the heavenly reward God has in store for them that love him.  We can do whatever we want because we have free will.  But if do, we’ll be replacing a beautiful and blissful eternity with most awful and everlasting torments we can imagine.  

God promised man he would never again send a Great Flood to wipe them out. He promised them instead a Redeemer who would re-open Heaven’s Gates, and, he sealed his promise with a sign in those heavens, the sign of a rainbow, with its many colors symbolizing the blessing of God.  on Noah, his sons and daughters-of-law, who would now begin their holy task of matrimony and childbirth.  It was a blessing on the billions of souls who would be the descendants of these great patriarchs, who would live, and who would die thenceforth and unto the world’s end, as loving and grateful sons and daughters of God, eagerly awaiting their final union with him in heaven.  So it was meant to be.  What a beautiful symbol the rainbow is!

As I was driving to New York last Sunday night for the delivery into this world of one of those children of God, the mother of that child went into labor. The punishment for Eve’s wrongdoing was meted out to one more woman as she learned the meaning of the words “In sorrow shalt thou bring forth children.”  And in the midst of all this pain and suffering, what did I see as I drove along the highway but a huge advertisement for an “adult store” with a short list of the highlights that await the sinner who shops there.  “Here we go again”, I’m thinking.  This is modern man’s response to God’s mercy, to God’s constant attempt to show man the true meaning of the sanctity of life, where an entire industry has formed around the carnal pleasure associated with the sacramental act of marriage.  And then my mind wandered further, to the inhuman murder of the unwanted, unborn children, fruit of the misuse of that marital act.  We’re now seeing the logical end of this perversion—not just the toleration of abortion for the sake of some misguided notion of the rights of women, but the celebration of abortion for its own sake.  And let’s not forget the rainbow, sign of God’s mercy, God’s beautiful sign of his love for the sanctity of life and for the true meaning of love between man and woman, as Noah’s three sons and their wives began their task of populating their brave, new world.  But what has man now done to the rainbow?   Evil men have twisted God’s beautiful sign of love and mercy into one that symbolizes the very opposite of what God intended it to mean, and rainbow flags everywhere now proclaim man’s pride in his own sinfulness.

And for this reason, as I drove along over the dark icy mountains of Pennsylvania, I felt, like never before, anger at man’s evil, and that sadness that God’s mercy and love should be treated with such contempt.  I hope that our Sunday readings have helped wake all of us up to the anger and sadness we should be feeling today, and that these emotions will nurture a resolve to be generous, to give back to God some of the love he has shown us.  It’s Sexagesima Sunday, only one week and two days before Lent starts.  Reminder!  We’re called to do penance not only for our own sins, but in reparation for the sins of all mankind.  It’s time to renew our resolution to say the Rosary more often and more fervently, to focus on the things of God and not our own miserable appetites.  Let’s be generous with those sacrifices, let our penances be great and numerous, for so are the sins of man.

GOD IS WORKING HIS PURPOSE OUT

A HYMN FOR SEXAGESIMA


By Arthur Campbell Ainger, 1894

1 God is working his purpose out,
as year succeeds to year,
God is working his purpose out,
and the time is drawing near;
nearer and nearer draws the time,
the time that shall surely be,
when the earth shall be filled with the glory of God
as the waters cover the sea.
2 From utmost east to utmost west,
wherever feet have trod,
by the mouth of many messengers
goes forth the voice of God,
'Give ear to me, ye continents,
ye isles, give ear to me,
that the earth may be filled with the glory of God
as the waters cover the sea.'
3 What can we do to work God's work,
to prosper and increase
the love of God in all mankind,
the reign of the Prince of peace?
What can we do to hasten the time,
the time that shall surely be,
when the earth shall be filled with the glory of God
as the waters cover the sea?
4 March we forth in the strength of God,
with the banner of Christ unfurled,
that the light of the glorious gospel of truth
may shine throughout the world;
fight we the fight with sorrow and sin,
to set their captives free,
that the earth may be filled with the glory of God
as the waters cover the sea.
5 All we can do is nothing worth
unless God blesses the deed;
vainly we hope for the harvest-tide
till God gives life to the seed;
yet nearer and nearer draws the time,
the time that shall surely be,
when the earth shall be filled with the glory of God
as the waters cover the sea.

IS IT REALLY NEVER TOO LATE?

A MESSAGE FOR SEXAGESIMA


Last week’s Gospel seemed like it was good news for all those who like to procrastinate. It told the story of the vineyard owner who went out to find workers for the harvest, and then ended up paying the same amount to those he hired at the end of the day as to those who had spent the entire day laboring in the heat of the sun. The moral of the story seems to be that the reward for the wicked who convert on their death bed will be the same as those who go to church religiously every Sunday, and lead a life filled with penance and crosses.  In the light of this parable we may be excused for asking ourselves what would normally be the rather blasphemous question, “What’s the point?”  Why should we deny ourselves all the “good things” in life, a self-centered lifestyle filled with sinful pleasures?  Why struggle to do good all the time if we can be bad and just “convert” at the end of our miserable life?

If we find ourselves asking this question, let’s recognize it for what it is—a temptation to abuse God’s goodness.  If our goal is to spend eternity in loving union with God, why on earth would we spend our life here offending his goodness, with some vague resolution that we’ll convert “later”.  St. Augustine was one who fell into this temptation.  As a young man he prayed “Lord, make me chaste (sexually pure) – but not yet!”  Allowing oneself to become entrapped by this sinful procrastination is itself to commit a further sin, that of presumption.  “Lord,” we’re saying, “I intend to do whatever I want, whether it pleases you or not, whether it offends you or not.  It matters not that each of my sin adds to your sufferings in Gethsemane and on Calvary. I don’t care.  Nevertheless, in spite of my scorn for your goodness, I demand that you give me the graces to convert before I die.  Sure, I’ll hurt you as much as I want now, but you had better make sure I have the opportunity to get to confession on my death bed, so that I can continue my earthly delights even in the next life.”

What a terrible sin such presumption is!  That we would treat with such contempt the loving Lord who suffered so much so that we would not have to.  Of course, when we think about it in this way, we tend to pat ourselves on the back, and admire our own lack of such an attitude.  We’re very quick to excuse ourselves, to thank God that we are “not like other men” who sin boldly all the while presuming upon God’s mercy.  Oh, no!  We’re fearful of God’s justice, and we do what we can to avoid being deprived of our eternal reward, don’t we!  And yet…

The fact is, every time we commit a sin and think to ourselves, “I’ll just go to confession next Sunday,” we commit this sin of presumption. It may be on a smaller scale, but it’s still the same exact sin.  And God’s answer to it is the same: “How do you know you’ll make it to next Sunday? Why do you offend me, and then expect mercy every time?  I will choose to whom I will send my graces, and I will choose when to withhold them.  Many are called but few are chosen.  When I send my graces, and you do not cooperate with them, I may not be so quick to send them again.  You’re playing with fire, and will very likely find yourself burning in that fire.”

The reason for now bringing up last Sunday’s Gospel is that today, Sexagesima Sunday, we read the story of Noah and the Great Flood.  All the graces that God bestowed on man were held in such contempt that God wiped them out.  He found only one family, Noah’s, worthy of being saved.  And yes, he saved them, but the countless other souls were cut off in the midst of their sinning, drowned in the depths of the deluge.  Their presumption turned into despair, and their phantoms stand now before us, warnings of our own future if we do not firmly resolve, by the help of God’s grace, never to sin again, and never ever again to abuse God’s merciful forgiveness. We have been warned.  It comes from God in the form of grace that we will either accept or reject.  But like all graces, it may be the last we receive.  It’s never too late until it’s too late!

Sunday, February 17, 2019

PENANCE—THE RIGHT CHOICE

A SERMON FOR SEPTUAGESIMA


Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be God?  I admit, sometimes, I indulge in a little fantasy about being made Pope, and what I’d do to try and fix things in Rome.  God help them if it ever comes true!  But to be God?  That’s a fantasy on a whole different level, and it feels almost unseemly to be thinking about it.  Nevertheless, I’m going to put a question out there for you—if you were God, not today, but back in the timeless infinity in which you, God, alone existed, and if, as God did, you planned to create another kind of being, called Man, to share with you in your eternal goodness and love…. here’s the question… what would be the first thing you would create?

You can’t just create Adam.  They need space and time to exist in.  Then they need a place in that space where they can comfortably exist.  Once you’ve worked out how to configure Man’s nature, you’ll need to make sure he has everything he needs before you create him.  He’ll need light to find his way around, air to breathe, gravity to keep him from floating away, food to eat, and so on and so forth.  And you know what?  That’s exactly how God did it.  You couldn’t improve on God’s creation in any way.

But what about the existence of evil in the world, you might ask?  Maybe I’d leave that bit out.  But think about it.  Did God really create evil?  The answer of course, is that he didn’t.  Everything he created, including man, was good.   But true goodness in creation is to be found in the conformity of the creature to God’s will.  In the case of animals, they do this instinctively, without the use of reason. In the case of man, though, goodness is to be found in their love, their voluntary sacrifice of self for the sake of God or their neighbor.  It’s the action only of a will that is free.  And it’s that free will that gets us in trouble.  If we’re free to do good, then we’re free to choose not to do good. That absence of the good that we should do, has a name, and that name is evil.  We produce evil ourselves by not choosing good, by not conforming our will to God’s.  It is man who is responsible for evil in the world, never God. 

 As we begin our season of Shrovetide today, the readings in the Breviary turn to the creation of man.  It’s the perfect time, as we prepare for Lent, to remember the events which made necessary our Lord’s Passion and Death, and why we’re supposed to do penance.  We read how God created everything in perfect succession, preparing for the creation of man.  But man betrayed his trust, repaying the gift of creation with disobedience and ingratitude.  And so our fantasies begin.  What if God had sent an angel to stop Eve from eating the apple, or what if he had just sent the serpent back to hell before Eve met up with him?

But having createdus with free will, God permits us to useit.  Hardly ever does he step in and prevent the consequences of our sin from taking us to places we never intended.  If we deliberately pull the trigger, he allows the bullet to shoot out of the gun and follow the laws of nature by traveling in a straight line. If there’s someone in the way, God doesn’t usually intervene to send the bullet off in another direction.  You may not have meant to kill someone, but you pulled the trigger and you’re responsible.  It’s not God’s fault, and you can’t blame it on the laws of nature. The laws of nature are just that, laws. And they would cease to be laws if God suspended them on a regular basis.  In the same way, man is a creature of free will.  If God were to regularly override our free will, preventing us from making mistakes, from doing bad things, just because he knows better, then let’s face it, we would cease to be men.  We would become mere robots, programmed by the Almighty to obey his input, while we remain powerless to act freely in any way.  We wouldn’t even be able to love God freely, and let’s remember, that’s the reason he created us in the first place.   

As we come to realize this, we will have a far better understanding the underlying reason we need to do penance during Lent.  We can start now.  Even now in Shrovetide, before Lent begins, we are invited to refocus on making voluntarysacrifices, making reparation freelyfor all the sins of debauchery and self-gratification that occur during carnival time and Mardi Gras.  Yes, we must refocus our lives on God by curbing our own appetites. Yes, we have to do God’s will rather than our own.  And yes, we’re obliged to make reparation for our own sins, for the original sin of Adam, and for the sins of mankind ever since.  Yes, we have to do all these, but more important yet, is that we do them freely.  

GOD, THAT MADEST EARTH AND HEAVEN

A HYMN FOR SEPTUAGESIMA


By Richard Whately and Reginald Heber

God, that madest earth and heaven,
Darkness and light,
Who the day for toil hast given,
For rest the night;
May thine angel guards defend us,
Slumber sweet thy mercy send us,
Holy dreams and hopes attend us,
This livelong night.

And, when morn again shall call us
To run life's way,
May we still, whate'er befall us,
Thy will obey.
From the pow'r of evil hide us,
In the narrow pathway guide us,
Nor thy smile be e'er denied us
The livelong day.

Guard us waking, guard us sleeping;
And, when we die,
May we, in thy mighty keeping,
All peaceful lie:
When the last dread trump shall wake us,
Do not thou, O God, forsake us,
But to reign in glory take us
With thee on high.

IN THE FULLNESS OF TIME

A MESSAGE FOR SEPTUAGESIMA


It’s up to us to be good for all those who aren’t.  But how good can we be?  Can we ever be good enough?  When God created man, he began by making Light.  “Let there be light,” pronounced the Word of God, “and there was light. And God saw the light, that it was good.”  The light was good, but it wasn’t good enough.  God hadn’t finished.  He created the light to prepare a place for man to live.  The creation of light, as I’ve explained before, caused the creation of space and time—space for light to illuminate, and time for light to move through, in which causes may have effects.  But light alone was not enough for man to exist, and so this was only the first of six days of creation, as God continued to come up with all the other things necessary for a man to live.  

And just as light was not good enough, the same can be said for everything else God created. The sun and the moon, the mountains, and trees, and birds of the air and fishes of the sea, the vast assortment of animals, none of this was good enough.  None of it was sufficient for God.  He wanted something better, and all these creatures had been created for this new creature that would be better.  It would be a creature of free will, who would love God not from instinct but because his reason and will would love Him freely.  And so, finally, on the sixth day of the week, God created Man. And you know what really hurts?  Man was not good enough either!

Man was supposed to be God’s supreme creation, the one who would share God’s love in an eternal union of goodness.  But man bit into the forbidden fruit, the only law God gave him.  He failed the test!  God saw Adam and Eve, that they were good—but they weren’t good enough!

And so as soon as that first “original” sin had been committed, a plan was put into action that would redeem this “man who wasn’t good enough”.  God foresaw the entire history of the Old Testament and knew what would be the most propitious and appropriate time for this Redemption to take place.  The Bible tells us it happened “in the fullness of time.”  Church history books offer various reasons why God chose the time of the Roman Empire to be that “fullness of time” in which he would send his only-begotten Son to save us from sin—there was universal peace in the world, the world was united in language, policy, commerce, and so on, making it easier for the Gospel to be spread to every corner of the Empire.

But there’s another reason why God chose to redeem us at that specific “fullness of time”.  He waited until exactly the right moment, a moment when a certain young lady of Nazareth would be conceived without original sin, would be born, and would finally achieve her child-bearing years. Only now would the time be right. Only now, when this young lady would say the word “Fiat”, let it be done unto me according to thy word, would the “fullness of time” be achieved.  And this young lady, Mary, would be, in all truth, God’s greatest creation, his supreme creature.  God prepared her for the role of Mother of his Son, by granting her the privilege of being conceived without original sin.  She alone amongst all mankind would not inherit Eve’s stain of disobedience, and would join with her Son as Co-Redemptrix, in restoring man to his primeval innocence through the graces that flowed from her Son’s Precious Blood directly into our souls at Baptism.  And God saw this Lady Conceived Without Sin, that she was good.  And finally, here was a creature that was “good enough!”

Shrovetide begins today.  Our prayers should flow in abundance to this Lady Conceived Without Sin, without whom our Redemption would never have taken place.  Prayers of thanks for our creation and redemption, and prayers of supplication that we may follow her perfect example as perfectly as we possibly can, freely offering our own will, our penances and sacrifices, in reparation for mankind’s ingratitude to her divine Son and His Father in heaven.

Sunday, February 10, 2019

AN ENEMY AMONGST US

A SERMON FOR THE 5TH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY


Have you noticed how often during this time after Epiphany that the epistles and gospels emphasize the virtue of charity?  Elsewhere, in the catechism, holy Scripture, the sermons and writings of the saints, there seems to be almost an obsessive attachment to this virtue of charity. St. Paul tells us that it is the greatest of the virtues.  Even Our Lord himself went to great lengths to make sure we understood that it is charity, love, that is the greatest of the commandments, indeed the summary of all the other commandments.  So let’s get this straight before we go anywhere else:  love for God, and love for our neighbor is theessential element of being a good Catholic. Without it we are not fit to be called a Christian, a member of the Body of Christ.
But have you ever noticed, that in spite of our understanding that charity is so important, we still manage to sin against this virtue so very easily!  Think about it!  How much does it take for you to go off the deep end?  How patient are you with the faults of your fellow man, your wife, your husband, your brothers and sisters, the folks at work?  Why is it so easy?  Maybe we’re not having a good day to begin with, or maybe it’s just one thing after another, grating on our nerves until eventually we explode.  Or maybe we’re just innately miserable people. But there it is, lurking in the back of our personality, always ready to come lashing out with that venom and nastiness we just can’t keep down.
If we pay attention to today’s Epistle and Gospel, it may just help us a little with this problem.  
The Epistle first of all reminds us that charity is our fundamental duty, and must always be at the basis of everything else we think and say and do. Indeed, all those thoughts, words, and deeds are of no value at all, if they are not motivated by love.  Practising any of the other virtues is, basically, a waste of time unless those virtues themselves bring us to a greater love of God and neighbor.  St. Paul tells us to put on “as the elect of God, holy and beloved the bowels of mercy, benignity, humility, modesty, patience, bearing with one another and forgiving one another, if any have a complaint against another.”  He tells us to “put them on,” as though we were actually clothed with virtue.  These clothes are more like a uniform.  Just as you can identify a police officer, or a nurse, or a priest by the uniform they wear, likewise this uniform of fraternal charity is the mark of God’s elect.  If we don’t have this mark, distinguishing us from the pagan, nobody will know who or what we are.  There’s a rather banal Protestant hymn, which nevertheless expresses this idea rather succinctly: “They’ll know we are Christians by our love, by our love; yes, they’ll know we are Christians by our love!”  We may turn our noses up at this rather hackneyed way of expressing it, but please, don’t dismiss the idea behind the cliché. Without love, not even our Lord himself will recognize us on Judgment Day as one of his disciples.  
 We don’t need to fixate on the details of practicing individual virtues, while we forget the beginning and end of every virtue – charity.  If we do, we’ll just get bogged down in the details – and remember, the Devil is in the details!  Just focus on what truly must be the focus of our behavior—charity.  Otherwise, we can pray all we want, we can consecrate our whole life to God, take religious vows even.  But if we have not charity, it will profit us nothing.
So the next time we’re tempted to lose our patience with someone, let’s remember what St. Paul tells us today.  That we must have mercy, compassion, and mutual forgiveness, in other words, that love which has no room for division or dissension, which overcomes strife and forgives offences.  We must have a love that is willing to make any sacrifice, overcomes any difficulty, so we can live together with everyone, even the wicked.  We are all all children of the same God, and it’s his job to sort us out.
This ideal of charity that St. Paul describes in the Epistle is described to us in practical terms in the Gospel. Our Lord describes how, when a man sows good seed in his field, an enemy comes in and oversows cockle among the wheat.  The farmer here is God, who has generously sown the good seed of grace in the world. But then along comes the Devil, sowing evil in and amongst.  
For now, let’s pass by the larger question why God permits the devil to do this. What we should recall though, is that evil is merely the absence of good, and it is we who drive out the good in the world when we abuse our free will and offend God.  So let’s not even think about blaming God for the existence of evil in the world.  What we are interested in today though, is how we should act towards people who are behaving in what we perceive to be a bad way.  Should we be filled with righteous zeal like the servants in the parable, ready to attack the evil, root out the cockle?  Wrong response!  God’s answer to such a response is a resounding “No!”  “Lest perhaps gathering up the cockle, ye root up the wheat also together with it.”  God spares the wicked cockle, not because it is good, which it isn’t, but in order to save the wheat.  He spares the wicked for the sake of the good.  Some situations may seem to us absolutely deplorable, and yet God asks us for patience, that we exercise charity, compassion, and mercy.  He doesn’t tell us to make friends with the wicked, but rather to tolerate their presence amongst us.  Just as he tolerated the presence of Judas in the midst of his Apostles, not casting him out, but showing him love, and giving him many opportunities for him to change his wicked heart.  After all, if Christ can change water into wine, he can change cockle into wheat.  It is always possible for the sinner to convert through the grace that God gives him.
Look at St. Mary Magdalene, who converted from her wicked ways and became a great saint.  The good thief on the Cross, who turned his life around during his last few minutes. And St. Peter, who denied Our Lord three times and regretted it bitterly.  These examples and so many more should convince us more than anything else that we should seek to do good to all men.  Our Lord did not permit St. Mary Magdalene to be stoned, or the good thief to die without hope.  He was ready to forgive St. Peter with instant compassion.  And likewise, we should be prompt, not to uncover and discuss the wickedness of others, but to extend the hand of charity towards those who annoy us, or even those who would harm us, those who truly hate us.  Instead of being so quick to retaliate, with harsh words, insults, and harmful gossip behind their backs, let’s rather practice what Our Lord asks, that we patiently bear the unkindness and hurt that others may place upon us, accepting them for what they are, our little crosses in life that give us the opportunity to follow Christ up Calvary to our salvation.
The next time we are faced with dissension, criticism, disrespect, whatever it may be, let us try to follow what our Lord asks of us, and not return evil for evil.  Evil will be dealt with, but we are not God’s policemen.  Our job is to attract others to a more godly life by our example of charity, not to destroy them by our zeal.  When faced with an enemy within, let’s leave justice and vengeance to God, while we show forgiveness and love, tolerating the presence of the cockle among the wheat. Justice will eventually be done, but it’s not our job to mete it out.  “Vengeance is mine”, saith the Lord.  Leave it to him for that harvest day when conversion is no longer possible, while we follow the words of St. Paul: “Even as Christ forgave you, so also do ye.”

ALL CREATURES OF OUR GOD AND KING

A HYMN FOR THE 5TH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY


By St. Francis of Assisi, 1225.  Translated by William H. Draper 
 1 All creatures of our God and King, 
lift up your voice and with us sing ,alleluia, alleluia! 
Thou burning sun with golden beam, 
thou silver moon with softer gleam, 
O praise him, O praise him, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia! 
2 Thou rushing wind that art so strong, 
ye clouds that sail in heav'n along, O praise him, alleluia! 
Thou rising morn, in praise rejoice, 
ye lights of evening, find a voice, 
O praise him, O praise him, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia! 
3 Thou flowing water, pure and clear, 
make music for thy Lord to hear, alleluia, alleluia!
Thou fire so masterful and bright, 
that givest man both warmth and light, 
O praise him, O praise him, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia! 
4 And all ye men of tender heart,
forgiving others, take your part, O sing ye, alleluia! 
Ye who long pain and sorrow bear,
praise God and on him cast your care,
O praise him, O praise him, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia! 
5 Let all things their Creator bless,
and worship him in humbleness, O praise him, alleluia!
Praise, praise the Father, praise the Son,
and praise the Spirit, three in one. 
O praise him, O praise him, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!

CAN'T WE ALL JUST GET ALONG?

A MESSAGE FOR THE 5TH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY


Some of you may remember back in the 1990s the controversy surrounding the alleged beating of a black man, Rodney King.  While the details of the case have long ago been consigned to the recesses of our memory, one thing has survived which no one has been able to forget.  This was Mr. King’s press conference at which he uttered the now infamous words: “Can’t we all just get along?”

While most of Mr. King’s words were rambling and inarticulate, this little phrase is actually a most succinct summary of today’s epistle.  It may sound trite and naïve, but if we wipe the smug sneer of cynicism off our face, we must reluctantly acknowledge that it has some merit.

Of course, if we are to use such a hackneyed expression, we must make sure we do so in the right context.  Because there is a time to make war and a time to make peace, a time to fight and a time to reconcile.  St. Paul himself acknowledges that he has “fought the good fight”, and he is not by this contradicting his exhortation to “get along” with our neighbors.  

When should we fight?  When we need to defend something good.  It may be our lives or the lives of another, and the level of violence should be proportionate to that of the attack.  Even lethal force is morally permitted if the attacker threatens someone’s life or virtue. If we are defending God and his truths, or our neighbor and his reputation, then we should keep our defense on the level of firm words and better arguments than the attackers. Truth will prevail, and we should not give in to frustration just because we’re dealing with an idiot who refuses to recognize the truth when we present it to him in black and white upper case.

This principle of self-defense extends even to attacks on our own person. In fact, this is the very definition of “self-defense.”  If someone threatens our well-being, our safety, our virtue (think sexual violence, for example), or our life, we can certainly defend ourselves with the proportionate level of response.  This is a right protected by natural law, and even by the US Constitution.

But let’s face it, usually, when we are hurt, it is not by a violent attack but rather an attack on our pride.  Our “attacker” humiliates us, and unfortunately we respond with anger, bitterness, back-biting, slander and hatred.  Now we venture outside the notion of self-defense, not defending virtue but abandoning it, substituting pride for humility, anger instead of peace, and hatred in the place of charity.  This is what St. Paul counsels against today when he says,“Even as Christ forgave you, so also do ye.  And above all these things put on charity, which is the bond of perfectness.  And let the peace of God rule in your heart.”  Or to put it another way, “Can’t we all just get along?”

Monday, February 4, 2019

LOVE ONE ANOTHER

A SERMON FOR THEE 4TH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY


A very simple lesson today, contained in the very simple language of St. Paul’s Epistle.  Often, St. Paul’s words can be a bit obscure, and we have to give a lot of thought to what he’s saying so that we can figure out what to make of it.  Not so, today.  With a few simple sentences he explains that the Commandments four through ten (which deal with our relationship with our neighbor) can all be summed up in Christ’s second of the two great commandments, which is that we love our neighbor as ourselves.

Even the most simple-minded and uneducated peasant can understand the concept of love.  Indeed, the inhabitants of the mountain shacks of Appalachia probably have a far better understanding of the word “love” than, say, the valley girls of Beverly Hills.  Up in the Smoky Mountains, they know, for example, that “love” is not just that feeling of sentimentality that we’re supposed to indulge with chocolate-covered strawberries and Vermont teddy bears on St. Valentine’s Day.  That’s not real love of course.  I have a hard time imagining a starry-eyed hillbilly couple unwrapping their gifts by the romantic light of their kerosene lantern, as they toast each other with moonshine.  Ma and Pa have a far more realistic and godly appreciation of what it is to love another human being with all his or her foibles and imperfections.  It’s tough and gritty, rarely easy, and often downright unpleasant, where the closest laundromat is the local swamp, and the nearest fast-food take-out is also the local swamp.  Let’s face it, the California girls would last about as long as the whiff of Febreze they’d spray in the outhouse.  Sacrifice is not a word in their vocabulary, and yet, regrettably, it is they who represent the average American far more closely than the good folks up in the Smokies.

Our Lord himself told us that the whole of the law hangs on the two great commandments.  The first three commandments God gave to Moses can be summarized by loving God with all our heart and mind and soul and strength.  “Love God, then do as thou wilt.”  The other commandments are summed up by loving our neighbor, “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.”  Love thy neighbor, then do as thou wilt.  Because “love worketh no ill to his neighbor.”  If you truly love your neighbor as yourself, you will never jeopardize his spiritual welfare, you won’t even endanger his physical welfare without an over-riding reason.

Today’s saint is a resounding example of the kind of love we should have for our neighbor.  St. Blaise started out as a physician in Armenia, and he had plenty of opportunities in that profession for helping his neighbor.  He healed many, and the word spread that his success was based as much on faith as on science.  Many a cure was attributed to the miraculous intervention of God, and I doubt that the good people of Armenia were surprised when Blaise chose to refocus his attentions from the physical good of his neighbor to the spiritual.  And so it was that Blaise became a bishop.  More and more people flocked to him for his intercession and to be healed.  It is said that even herds of animals made their way to Blaise’s presence, and that he healed them too.  Eventually, the powers that be heard of his reputation, and as the enemies of God never tire of doing, they determined to destroy him.
Blaise was sent to a dark, dank and dismal dungeon, where little light managed to penetrate.  One good woman, a member of his flock, visited him and brought him two candles for him to provide a little light.  Images and icons of St. Blaise often depict him holding these two candles, and it is for this reason that we use two candles when we bless your throats today in his honor.

You may wonder why this wondrous physician and healer is particularly venerated as a patron of those with diseases of the throat.  The story is told that a mother brought her dying son to Blaise for healing.  He had swallowed a particularly nasty fishbone, which had lodged in his throat and was blocking his air passages.  He was slowly dying from this blockage, but Blaise of course was able, with the help of God’s divine power, to cure the boy and return him, healthy, into the arms of his mother.

Like all saints, Blaise was a reflection of the Light of the World, who is our Lord Jesus Christ.  Yesterday was Candlemas, when we are commanded by the Church to walk in procession holding our lighted candles in our hands, and bearing witness ourselves to Him who is the true Light.  Like many of the Church’s traditions, this one was discontinued after Vatican 2, and today, it is difficult for us remnants of Christ’s flock to travel to church on a weekday so that our traditions may not be forgotten.  But let us at least hold the figurative candles in our hands wherever we go, so that we may bring the light of faith, the light of hope, and the light of charity to these same neighbors.  They need to be loved just as we all do, and so few of them seek that love in the God who truly loves them more than anyone.  So many have forgotten God and his love, and it falls to us, not just saints like St. Blaise, but ordinary sinful yet sincere folk like us, to remind them of His love by showing them our own.

Sunday, February 3, 2019

PEACE, PERFECT PEACE

A HYMN FOR THE 4TH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY


Text by: Edward Henry Bickersteth 1875

1
Peace, perfect peace, in this dark world of sin?
  The blood of Jesus whispers peace within.

2
Peace, perfect peace, by thronging duties pressed?
  To do the will of Jesus—this is rest.

3
Peace, perfect peace, with sorrows surging round?
  On Jesus’ bosom naught but calm is found.

4
Peace, perfect peace, with loved ones far away?
  In Jesus’ keeping we are safe, and they.

5
Peace, perfect peace, our future all unknown?
  Jesus we know, and He is on His throne.

AND THERE WAS A GREAT CALM

A MESSAGE FOR THE 4TH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY


We certainly live in a troubled world.  The Church has been a disaster since Vatican 2;  our country sometimes seems to be almost on the brink of civil war; if we turn on the news, all we hear is people shouting at each other—where are we to look if we just want to find some tranquility?  We can, of course, just shut ourselves up in our homes and just watch Turner Classic Movies, but in all truth, this is not who most of us are—we’re social animals, and are supposed to take comfort from the ties we have with our  fellow man.

And meanwhile, as we bob up and down in this endless storm of hatred, bickering and godlessness, where, we often wonder, is God?  Is it possible he is asleep, like our Lord in the tempest-battered boat of today’s Gospel?  Is our faith so weak that we feel the need, like the apostles, to wake him up?  To rouse God from his slumber?  We are often tempted to echo the words of the psalmist: “Up, Lord, why sleepest thou? awake, and be not absent from us for ever.  Wherefore hidest thou thy face, and forgettest our misery and trouble?” (Ps. 43:25-26). It would behoove us rather to bear in mind the words aother psalm (Ps. 120:2-4): “My help cometh even from the Lord, who hath made heaven and earth.  He will not suffer thy foot to be moved; and he that keepeth thee will not sleep.  Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep.”

As Bob Dylan pointed out so memorably, “The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind.” Surprising though this may be, it is in the very onslaught of turmoil and hatred, the very wind that threatens to blow us on to the rocks, that we are to find the peace we seek so desperately. For “in this dark world of sin, the Blood of Jesus whispers peace within.”  It’s the first verse of our hymn of the week, and we would do well to repeat these words to ourselves often and with deep faith.

Our Lord doesn’t need to show his face by intervening miraculously in the affairs of man. He already did that.  The graces that flow from the shedding of his Precious Blood are sufficient to hold mankind over until the end of time.  Do those graces seem to be running out? Okay then, maybe it really is the end of time…?  Or, alternatively, those graces are not running out at all, but are merely being held back for the good of mankind… Our good Father in heaven is not beyond taking his children out to the woodshed now and again and punishing them for their godlessness.  Or he may withhold his favors to teach us the lesson that without him we are nothing.

The blatant blasphemies of certain people against the rights of the unborn bear witness to their open intentions to rid our land of all reference to God and His moral law. One by one, those laws are not only being broken but actually abolished.  “Thou shalt not kill” has become the latest joke to these folks, who have become jaded with the old joke “Thou shalt not commit adultery.”  Where will all this end?  The outcome is in the hands of our blessed Lord, who is not sleeping, but observing with sadness, or perhaps anger, the evil deeds that surround us. Listen to his whisper in the wind.