THE LITURGICAL YEAR

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

Sunday, March 31, 2019

I WAS GLAD WHEN THEY SAID UNTO ME

A SERMON FOR THE 4TH SUNDAY IN LENT


“In the midst of life we are in death.”  It’s a familiar quotation, one that we hear at funerals all the time.  It’s meant as a salutary reminder not to become so wrapped up in living thislife that we forget about the next one—the life of the world to come.  Today’s message, however, seems to convey the very opposite.  We are in the midst of Lent, about to enter into the even more somber period of Passiontide next week, and yet, today’s Fourth Sunday in Lent is known as “Laetare Sunday”.  Laetare—“Rejoice!”  How odd that we are called to be joyful today…

In the midst of life, we may very well be in death, as the saying goes. But today, we are reminded that in the midst of death, we are in life.  In the very midst of all the penances we endure, there is the joy of knowing that we suffer for God.  And in the very midst of our observance of Christ’s Passion and Death, we have the joy of knowing that we suffer withGod.  The knowledge too that he is suffering with us.  For indeed in this life, we have much to suffer and not for nothing is it called a vale of tears.

All our sorrows have a purpose if only we would stop focusing on our own miserable aches and pains long enough to see the big picture.  That what we suffer is nothing other than our own participation in Christ’s own suffering, by which he opened up the gates of heaven for us, and now by which we can make sure that we, as individuals, benefit from those open gates by walking through them one day.  There’s joy in abundance to be found in these thoughts.

This week we heard the sad news that a loyal, traditional Catholic priest, Fr. Joseph Collins has been diagnosed with Stage 4 pancreatic cancer. As we all know, that is nothing short of a death sentence.  It is now in God’s hands whether the remainder of his life is measured in days, weeks or months, but what is certain is that, short of a miracle, the cancer will eventually overcome him.  Of course, we must all pray for him.  But how should we pray?  For a miracle perhaps?  Certainly, if it’s God’s will.  Miracles are rare, because if they weren’t rare we would start taking them for granted. But miraculous cures are certainly something God can grant if he so wishes.  The point though is that it’s ifGodwishes, not you and I.  Pray for a miracle, but only if it’s God’s will, and if not, then pray for a happy death.

A what?  A happydeath?  That sounds like a contradiction, and yet it’s a very Catholic notion.  Think of it in today’s context of Laetare—“Rejoice” Sunday.  In the midst of death we are in life.  Yes, poor Fr. Collins may be coming to the end of his earthly passage, but so too shall we all, one day or another.  The Grim Reaper comes for us all, and neither money nor power nor influence nor holiness will add one second to our life beyond what God has planned for us. And so it behooves all of us to be constantly aware that this life is not the main thing.  This life is transitory, temporary, a measure of time during which we are simply tested for the main event to come.  Whether or not that event is something to look forward to or dreaded is up to us, how we act, and how clear our conscience is.

St. Gregory the Great reminds us that “the Lord cometh at the hour of judgment.  He knocketh when by the pains of sickness he warneth us that death is nigh.”  If our response is one of fear, it’s because we dread to go before our judge, him whom we know we have offended, and even despised.  “But” says St. Gregory “whosoever is confident through hope and by reason of works done for God, when he heareth the Judge knock, openeth to him immediately, for to such an one that coming is blessed.  Yea, when the hour of death is at hand, such an one is of good cheer in expectation of the blessedness which will follow on judgment.”  If God were to knock on your door today, what would be your response?  Fear or good cheer?  Something to think about…

So yes, we pray for a happy death.  Both for ourselves, and for those who go before us, including, it seems, our dear Fr. Collins. Because death can be happy if we’re in the state of grace.  Death is nothing more than the gate of heaven, and why should we feel anything but the pure joy of anticipation to walk through that gate?  We think about “poor Fr. Collins”, and naturally we wish him well and pray for his miraculous recovery if it be God’s will.  But let us not be like the heathen, for whom death is the end of everything, as St. Augustine reminds us.  Let us rather take to heart, and especially on this Sunday of Laetare, the words of today’s Gradual, taken from Psalm 121, Laetatus sum in his quae dicta sunt mihi: In domum Domini ibimus—“I was gladwhen they said unto me, we will go into the house of the Lord.”

I WAS GLAD

A PSALM FOR LAETARE SUNDAY


Psalm 121 : Laetatus Sum 

I was glad when they said unto me, * We will go into the house of the Lord.

2  Our feet shall stand * in thy gates, O Jerusalem.

3  Jerusalem is built as a city * that is at unity in itself.

4  For thither the tribes go up, even the tribes of the Lord, * to testify unto Israel, to give thanks unto the Name of the Lord.

5  For there is the seat of judgment, * even the seat of the house of David.

6  O pray for the peace of Jerusalem; * they shall prosper that love thee.

7  Peace be within thy walls, * and plenteousness within thy palaces.

8  For my brethren and companions' sakes, * I will wish thee prosperity.

9  Yea, because of the house of the Lord our God, * I will seek to do thee good.

ISAAC AND ISHMAEL

A REFLECTION FOR THE 4TH SUNDAY IN LENT


Among the descendants of Noah’s son Sem there lived an elderly couple called Abram and Sarai. They had been married for many years and were childless in their old age, so that it had become clear to them they would eventually have to pass on their inheritance to people outside the family. Abram complained of this to God, and was probably surprised when he received God’s answer that he would not only have children, but that his seed would be as great in number as the stars in the heavens.

When his wife heard of this, she was naturally skeptical of her abilities to conceive at her age.  Instead of trusting in God’s promise, she nevertheless determined to see it fulfilled, and offered her handmaid Hagar to her husband Abram, that he may have a child by this woman.  Abram acquiesced and Hagar conceived a child.

At this point, things began to go downhill.  Hagar, in her new position as future mother to Abram’s child, started to exert her influence in the household, even to the point of looking down on Sarai, Abram’s wife.  This naturally infuriated Sarai, and she and Abram agreed to expel her from their home. Hagar fled, but asked God in her affliction for his blessing on herself and the child she was expecting.  God sent an angel to answer her prayer, with the promise that her seed would also produce future multitudes of people, and that her child should be called Ishmael: “he will be a wild man; his hand will be against every man, and every man's hand against him; and he shall dwell in the presence of all his brethren.”  Ishmael would indeed be hailed by future generation as the father of the Arab peoples, and the angel’s description of Ishmael would be a fitting prophecy for the Muslims who today recognize him as their patriarch.

Thirteen years later, when Abram was at the ripe old age of 99, God appeared again to him and reminded him of his promise.  He told him that he would be the “father of many nations”, that he would henceforth be called Abraham instead of Abram, and his wife Sarai would be called Sarah, that she would conceive and bear a son.  Abraham “fell upon his face, and laughed.”  Sarah was 90 years old after all.  However, God’s prophecy was of course fulfilled, and the son, Isaac, was born to Abraham and his wife.  Isaac would go on to be the father of Jacob (later known as Israel), whose twelve sons would be the patriarchs of the twelve tribes of Israel.

Thus, Ishmael is hailed today by the Muslims as their patriarch, while the Jews hail Isaac.  Both children were descendants of Noah’s son Sem, and so both Muslims and Jews today are technically Semites.  The term ‘anti-Semitic,’ however, is usually only applied to the descendants of Isaac. Interestingly enough, St. Paul in today’s Epistle describes how Ishmael, “born after the flesh” persecuted his younger half-brother Isaac, “born after the Spirit,”—“and,” he points out, “so it is now.” Today, we can join St. Paul and acknowledge that indeed “so it is now,” as Muslims continue to launch their attacks against the Jewish people.  As New Testament Christians, we must be cautious in taking sides, rather placing ourselves above these ancient feuds and rivalries, and pledging allegiance only to Him who was “born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God.” Only in the Word made Flesh can we ever truly unite. 

Sunday, March 24, 2019

THE DEVIL AND ALL HIS WORKS

A SERMON FOR THE THIRD SUNDAY IN LENT


A couple of weeks ago, we were introduced to a rather unpleasant fellow who tempted our Lord in the wilderness.  He was, of course, the Devil himself, often called Satan, but who goes also under many other names.  One of those names is mentioned today as the chief of the devils, Beelzebub.  In Hebrew the name is pronounced Ba’al Zevuv, and derives from an ancient pagan god of the Philistines, known as Baal.  Its literal meaning is “Lord of the Flies” or “Lord of Dung”, as flies commonly feed on excrement.  It’s not a nice name, but befits this character whose two great purposes in life are to hate God and destroy the souls of men.

In his second appearance today, the Devil appears in the form of his underlings, the demons of hell.  This time it is Christ, not the Devil, who is the main protagonist.   Our Lord is no longer the object of Satan’s assault, but is now the one on the attack himself, driving out demons from the possessed in the Name of God.  On both occasions then, we gain some insight into how the Devil operates, first by temptation, and second, far worse by possession.

These are the two extremes of demonic activity: temptation at the low end of the scale, and possession at the other.  But these are not the only ways in which Satan seeks to drag our souls down to hell, and today I’d like to make sure we all understand what we’re up against, so that we’re better able to recognize demonic activity when it occurs, and are thus better prepared to deal with it appropriately.

First of all, let’s divide Satan’s activity into two types, ordinary and extraordinary.  We all experience his ordinary activity on a daily basis—it’s called “temptation.” How we deal with temptation is an ongoing problem for us all, and of course, our eternal life depends on how well we succeed.  Often, this is as far as the Devil needs to go where men and women are concerned, as he has our fallen human nature and the world as his two great allies in the fight. We’re such easy targets, as all he has to do is put some little pleasure in front of us that we know we don’t belong enjoying, and whack!  He has us! We must remember he never tempts us with things that are openly ugly and revolting, but he disguises these ugly and revolting things as something that we perceive to be somehow beneficial to us, something that would give us pleasure or some kind of relief or satisfaction. So our first lesson, and you’ve heard it many times before, is to be vigilant against the temptations of the Devil, and resist him, steadfast in the faith.

As for the extraordinary activity of Satan, this can be divided into several different types.  We’ve mentioned possession already, so let’s start with that.  Diabolic possession is the gravest form of demonic activity, which allows for a continuing presence of a demon in a human body.  Possessed persons suffer intervals when their mental, intellectual, and other faculties are suspended and taken over by the demon. Symptoms can include the knowledge of languages unknown to the victim, superhuman strength, and the ability to read someone else’s thoughts.  There’s usually an aversion to anything sacred, such as holy water, and the demon will spew forth vile blasphemies.  Hollywood tends to focus on this side of demonic activity, and will exaggerate some of the phenomena—heads twisting around and such like—but what Hollywood doesn’t and cannot do is to exaggerate the effect of the presence of pure evil. This is something that an experienced exorcist will never forget.  And it is to the exorcist that we must turn in such cases, someone who has the power and authority to drive out the demon in the Name of all that is holy.

A step down from possession, and often confused withpossession, is Diabolic Obsession.  The difference between the two is that, in obsession, the will remains free at all times.  The person is not completely taken over by the demon, but is oppressed by obsessive thoughts, thoughts that may be blasphemous or even absurd in nature, but from which the victim is unable to free himself.  The obsessed person lives in a state of permanent torment by these thoughts, and is persistently driven to temptations of suicide and self-inflicted injury.

Thirdly, there is what’s known as Diabolic Oppression.  This is more random in nature, and can affect not just individuals but groups, even very large groups.  The village of Salem, Massachusetts, witnessed such a manifestation of diabolic oppression during the infamous witch trials that took place there. The oppression can also strike things that are external, such as our health, our jobs, our relationship with others. Inexplicable rages and a tendency to complete isolation are symptoms of oppression.

Finally, we have what’s known as Diabolic Infestation.  Infestation is where the activity of the demon is directed not towards people, but towards either places or objects.  Your typical haunting falls into this category.  Always have your home blessed by a priest, and keep a supply of holy water handy.  The Devil can’t enter where he isn’t wanted and so we must never deliberately invite him in.  If you have the misfortune to live or work in a place that suffers from manifestations of the Evil One, “who are you going to call?”  Pay no attention to the shows on TV—paranormal investigators and parapsychologists are not the answer.  Nor are so-called mediums.  And certainly don’t mess with things yourself by using a ouijah board or holding a séance. That would be downright dangerous. You can’t fight evil with evil. Call a priest.  He will bless the house if this hasn’t been done, and may even perform an exorcism.  It takes God to get rid of the Devil, not pseudo-science or mumbo-jumbo. 

If such things happen, just remember—this isn’t TV and it isn’t Hollywood. Often the answer to your problems is far less exciting and yet more effective.  All these various forms of extraordinary diabolic activity can be warded off in many cases by a life of prayer, penance, and the use of sacramentals such as the Miraculous Medal, green scapular, St. Benedict’s Medal and so on, and the frequent reception of the sacraments.  And if it’s too late for that, then yes, by exorcism.  But a family Rosary, a simple house blessing, a life free from mortal sin on the part of everyone in the home, these things are often all that’s needed.

In fact, that brings us to the cause of extraordinary diabolic activity. In the case of possession and obsession, the victim is usually not guilty of any sin.  God himself may give his permission to the demon to torment us, not in order to punish us, but so that he may turn evil into good.  For example, he may allow us to be oppressed in order to strengthen us in virtue.  He did this, for example, in the case of Job in the Old Testament, and there are certainly many cases of saints being grievously tormented by the Devil.  One has to think only of the Curé of Ars and his nightly battles with Satan, during one of which the Devil set his bed on fire.

One may also be the subject of a curse.  Just as we may bless other people, for example, when we say “God bless you!” when they sneeze, so too do we have the ability to place curses on our neighbor.  A curse is the intention to harm others through demonic intervention, and of course It is always mortally sinful to do this.  However, there is no sin on the part of the victim who is cursed in this way.  Watch out for the many superstitions connected with curses, but never let down your guard, as they do exist, and can be quite effective. 

Other times, the victim himself is directly involved as the cause of his own possession, obsession or oppression.  Firstly, by grave hardening in sin.  Judas Iscariot is the classical example of this, and there are many cases of ordinary people who abandon themselves to sexual perversion, violence, drugs and alcohol, and who end up being victims of some kind of diabolic control. People who have been involved with abortions are prime fodder for the Devil, and exorcists recount that it requires a great deal of time in their case to liberate them from their demons. You can imagine that, given the deteriorating morals of our society, diabolic activity is becoming increasingly common. In fact, one might say that the Devil has been unleashed.

The second way the Devil’s extraordinary activity can be caused by the victim himself, is by proximity to evil places and persons.  The obvious examples are by using ouijah boards, dabbling in magic, going to fortune tellers, and certainly by attending spiritualist events where they pretend to communicate with the dead.  But on this list, we should also mention certain other things we may not have thought of—the viewing of pornography on TV and the internet, for example; certain grotesquely violent horror movies, attending so-called satanic rock concerts, and so on.  

Any one of these subjects deserves treating in greater depth, but today I wanted to give you an overview of the Devil and his works.  At our Baptism we, or our godparents on our behalf, renounced Satan and all his works, and this should have been no idle promise.  Our life of grace after Baptism precludes us from dabbling in the things of the occult, and no good will come from too great an interest in these things.  I personally have known teenagers who had far too great an interest in TV shows about hauntings and exorcisms and such things, and ended up in serious states of obsession themselves.  Some of them had to spend time in the psych ward, only to end up in immoral lifestyles far removed from God.

These are no idle warnings.  The Devil is not a medieval superstition, but a fallen angel who would delight in nothing better than for us to mock the idea of his existence.  After all, we’re not going to fight what we don’t believe in.  We wouldn’t even feel the need to defend ourselves, and what a sad mistake that would be!  So without dwelling unduly on the more salacious aspect of diabolic phenomena, we must at least be aware of their purpose, which is to draw us away from God and ever closer to our eternal destruction.  Our battle may not be a spectacular one, but we will win it though prayer and sacrifice, above all by the Sacraments, so let us heed our Lord’s warnings, be aware of the dangers that face us, and take the appropriate actions so that we do not become victims ourselves.

GABRIEL'S MESSAGE DOES AWAY

A HYMN FOR THE 3RD SUNDAY IN LENT,

SAINT GABRIEL AND THE ANNUNCIATION


Piae Cantiones 1582,
translated by John Mason Neale (1818-1866) 

Gabriel's message does away
Satan's curse and Satan's sway,
Out of darkness brings our Day:
So, behold, all the gates of heav’n unfold.
He that comes despised shall reign;
He that cannot die, be slain;
Death by death its death shall gain:
So, behold, all the gates of heav’n unfold.
Weakness shall the strong confound;
By the hands, in grave clothes wound,
Adam’s chains shall be unbound.
So, behold, all the gates of heav’n unfold.
By the sword that was his own,
By that sword, and that alone,
Shall Goliath be o’erthrown:
So, behold, all the gates of heav’n unfold.
Art by art shall be assailed;
To the cross shall Life be nailed;
From the grave shall hope be hailed:
So, behold, all the gates of heav’n unfold.

THE ANGEL OF THE LORD

A MESSAGE FOR THE FEASTS OF ST. GABRIEL & THE ANNUNCIATION


It is no coincidence that the feast of the great Archangel Gabriel happens to fall on the very eve of the Annunciation. For it is with this primary event in the story of our Redemption that St. Gabriel shall always be first and foremost remembered. In our prayer life the Archangel has a prominent role, appearing in both the first Joyful Mystery of our Rosary, and if we dutifully observe this hallowed tradition, then three times a day in the Angelus as well.  In fact the word Angelus, as you might expect, refers directly to Gabriel, the "Angel of the Lord, who appeared unto Mary."

In spite of his importance, Catholics are not quite as familiar with the other role Gabriel played in God’s plan to prepare for the Incarnation of his Son.  This happened earlier in St. Luke's Gospel, when God  sent St. Gabriel to announce the conception of St. John the Baptist, our Lord's cousin and Forerunner who would “prepare the way of the Lord, making every valley to be filled, and every mountain and hill to be brought low; and the crooked to be made straight, and the rough places plain.”

Tomorrow, we shall read in our daily Gospel, the story of the apparition of St. Gabriel to our Lady, hailing her as full of grace, and announcing that God had chosen her to be the Mother of his only-begotten Son. This is not the beginning of St. Luke’s Gospel, however. The Gospel of Luke actually begins inside the Temple of Jerusalem, the House of God, a fitting place if ever there was one for the story of our Redemption to begin. As the priest Zacharias is offering incense there, he too is visited by the Angel Gabriel, who tells him that his barren wife shall conceive and bear a son, a son who shall be called John.

Unlike Mary, Zacharias asks for a sign from the Angel, failing to recognize that the apparition to him of an angel was itself the sign. For this lack of faith, he is struck dumb by Gabriel, and will not speak again until the birth of his son, when Zacharias would confirm that, in spite of all family tradition, “he shall be called John.” 

Even less familiar to Catholics is St. Gabriel’s appearance in the Old Testament, when he was sent by God to the prophet Daniel to explain a vision he had experienced. In all three apparitions, he is met with fear—in the case of Daniel, he fell on his face in a swoon and was sick for days afterwards. We must believe from this that Gabriel’s appearance must be quite terrifying, as indeed would be that of any great Archangel sent from God. This is no ordinary “saint”, no holy man who lives a godly life of virtue and is then rewarded. This is an Archangel, most powerful of the angels, created in the dim recesses of time before ever the earth was. Unlike other saints, therefore, we are not asked to emulate St. Gabriel in his virtue and godliness, but rather in his power to intercede for us at the very throne of God.

Let us stand in awe of the Archangel as we read the story of Zacharias in today’s proper Last Gospel, and prepare ourselves for tomorrow’s great feast of the Incarnation.

Sunday, March 17, 2019

RISING TO THE TRANSCENDENT

A SERMON FOR TRANSFIGURATION SUNDAY


The Second Sunday in Lent is often called “Transfiguration Sunday” because of the Gospel we have just read.  What a far cry it is from last week.  If we were to give a name to last Sunday, it should probably be “Temptation Sunday,” as you’ll remember the Gospel described the three temptations of Christ. From Temptation to Transfiguration seems like quite a leap, doesn’t it?  And yet there’s a certain flow here, a certain cause and effect, even, which we can use as a help in our own path to salvation.

Look at the third and last of the temptations of Christ in the wilderness: “Again,” the Gospel tells us, “the devil taketh him up into an exceeding high mountain.”  And then in this week’s Gospel, “Jesus taketh Peter, James, and John, his brother, and bringeth them up into an high mountain apart.”  In each case, the prelude to the action, as it were, is the ascent of a high mountain, “an exceeding high mountain” in the first instance, and “an high mountain apart” in the second.  

These are by no means the only two times in Holy Scripture that men ascend high mountains to receive some great revelation.  We have only to think of Moses receiving the Ten Commandments at the summit of Mount Sinai, of Elijah finding God on Mount Horeb, not in the fire, nor in the whirlwind, but in the “still small voice of calm.”  After the chastisement of mankind, Noah’s Ark came to rest on the summit of Mount Ararat, and for the redemption of mankind, Christ died on the summit of Mount Calvary.  Even in modern times, when St. Francis wanted to prepare himself for the Feast of St. Michael the Archangel, he went up to the heights of Mount Alvernia, and there he fasted forty days and forty nights, during which time he received our Lord’s stigmata in his own hands and feet and side. 

One may wonder why we must first climb high before the reason for the climb is revealed.  Is it something to do, perhaps, with the rarified atmosphere as we reach the heights far above sea level?  Is it that the air is thinner, so that our physiology is more susceptible to visions of heavenly things?  Or is it simply that on the mountain tops, we are “nearer, my God, to thee?”  Nearer to God, our Father “who art in heaven?”  But I don’t think either one of these explanations fits the bill.  Surely, God would not trivialize the great events that happened on these mountains, by restricting them to a specific altitude, whether altitude is meant to signify either their distance above sea level, or their distance below heaven!  

Let’s face it though, the great height they all have in common cannot be a coincidence.  There’s a reason, isn’t there, why, in order to be close to the Most High Omnipotent Good Lord, we must ourselves ascend to the heights.  Why we must leave behind the lower things of the earth so we can reach the higher things of heaven, so we can replace the material with the spiritual, the natural with the supernatural, the things of creation with the things of the Creator.  And so we climb above these lower things.  The mountains that our Lord climbed, and Moses and Elijah and St. Francis, all symbolize this rising above the things of this world into the higher world of the spirit, the higher world of God himself.

Even the Devil knew this, and last week he took advantage of it to take our Lord to the top of an exceeding high mountain. There, he “sheweth him all the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them;and saith unto him, All these things will I give thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me.”  He took him to up the mountain top, so that he could “reveal” to our Lord that he, Satan, was God and should be adored.  It was a clever plan, “diabolically clever” as they say.  But as Christ was himself God, he knew very well who this imposter was, that this tempter was the fallen angel who had once before likened himself unto God and had been thrown out of heaven for his insolence.  Satan now found himself thrown out a second time as our Lord admonished him: “Get thee hence, Satan: for it is written, Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve.”

This week, it is our Lord’s turn to take his three favorite disciples up a “high mountain apart”.  He did not bribe them by showing them all the kingdoms of the world and offering them to Peter, James and John.  He did not demand that they worship him.  He simply showed himself to be God, something that Satan, of course, could never do.  His face shone as the sun and his raiment glowed, white as snow.  Moses and Elijah appeared with him, representing the Law and the Prophets, each of whom had made their own fast of forty days and forty nights before ascending their own mountains at Sinai and Horeb.  When St. Peter saw this, he wanted to build tabernacles for the three of them.  His thinking was still confused and he hadn’t yet realized that Moses and Elijah were there to proclaim Christ as the Messiah, the fulfillment of the Law and the Prophets. It took a voice from heaven, declaring Christ to be the Son of God, to remind him that the Law and the Prophets depend on the Transfigured One: “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased. Hear ye him!”

What an amazing sight at the top of this mountain! We can read about it in the Gospels, but if we want to see for ourselves a dim glimpse of the living and true God, we must go with these three disciples, Peter, James and John, and follow them.  Where else did our blessed Lord take these three disciples?  Was it not up another mountain, to a garden on the Mount of Olives, a garden called Gethsemane?  Here he was transfigured a second time, not in the glorified vision of the transfiguration, but into the “man of sorrows, acquainted with grief” as the prophet Isaiah had foretold. A mountain on which his face and body were covered with the sweat of blood, and his soul, as he told them, was “sorrowful unto death.”  This second vision by Peter, James and John was no less powerful than the one they witnessed today at the Transfiguration.  And yet, their reaction was to fall asleep.  If we want to see for ourselves that glimpse of God, we must follow them to Gethsemane, yes, but we must not fall asleep when we get there.  Behold instead this Man of Sorrows, and behold in him the terrible consequences of our own weaknesses, imperfections, and sins.

None of us like to dwell on the somber facts of life and death.  We don’t mind thinking about good things of our faith, the beautiful Mass, the nice statues, our cute little rosary beads in their matching boxes.  We’re very content today to spend happy time with our corned beef and cabbage in one hand and a glass of Guinness in the other.  But how much thought do we give to the great hardships St. Patrick endured to convert the Irish pagans?  We manage to “survive” Lent by thinking about the goodies we’ll enjoy at Easter.  We would join St. Peter in a heartbeat when he said “It’s good for us to be here.” But when it comes to sorrow and suffering, it’s a different story.  Where was St. Peter as our Lord died on Mount Calvary?  He wasn’t at the foot of the Cross, declaring that it was “good for us to be here.”  And yet we mustbe there.  We must keep vigil with our Lord on the Mount of Olives, we must comfort him on Mount Calvary, and yes, with him we must do battle against Satan on our own Mountains of Temptation.  It’s time to do the preparation now.  We know what that involves—to spend a full forty days and forty nights in fasting and penance, as we climb these mountains with Christ and experience with him the hardship, pain and sorrow of his own sacrifice.  Today, we’re permitted to enjoy with him for a short time the glory of his divinity and the promise of our own ultimate reward in heaven. Let today’s corned beef and cabbage be our symbols today, and reinforce in us a determination to persevere in penance long after we are transfigured today, hopefully not by one Guinness too many! Our ultimate reward is of infinitely greater value than the transitory pleasures of this life, and today’s oasis is just that—a chance to take a breath before we plunge once more into the waters of strife. Let’s not lose focus.  If we are to achieve that final reward in heaven, let’s not forget we must first obey the command of our Father in heaven, “Hear ye him.”

'TIS GOOD, LORD, TO BE HERE!

A HYMN FOR TRANSFIGURATION SUNDAY


By J. Armitage Robinson, 1890


1 'Tis good, Lord, to be here,
thy glory fills the night;
thy face and garments, like the sun,
shine with unborrowed light.
2 'Tis good, Lord, to be here,
thy beauty to behold,
where Moses and Elijah stand,
thy messengers of old.
3 Fulfiller of the past,
promise of things to be,
we hail thy body glorified,
and our redemption see.
4 Before we taste of death,
we see thy kingdom come;
we fain would hold the vision bright,
and make this hill our home.
5 'Tis good, Lord, to be here,
yet we may not remain;
but since thou bidst us leave the mount,
come with us to the plain.

MOUNT TABOR TO THE MOUNT OF OLIVES

A REFLECTION FOR THE 2ND SUNDAY IN LENT


The story of Christ’s Transfiguration on the summit of Mount Tabor is familiar to all of us.  Not only do we read the account of this important event in today’s Gospel, but we celebrate on the 6thday of August a whole feast day dedicated to the Transfiguration.  We know all the characters, not just our Lord himself of course, but the three apostles he chose to take with him up the mountain, where they were joined by Moses, representing the Law, and Elijah, representing the Prophets.

We know too the reasons why our Lord chose to reveal himself in all his glory to those three apostles.  They were about to witness a very different type of transfiguration, when our blessed Lord suffered his Agony in the Garden, his bloody scourging and crowning with thorns, his crucifixion.  They were about to see their Saviour die, and how could they be expected to keep their faith in the face of such apparent defeat at the hands of his enemies?  Our Lord’s answer was to show them, once and for all, who he truly was, the Son of God. Surely, this would be enough?

Let’s follow Peter, James and John down from the Mount of Transfiguration, and see how strong this vision had made them.  It will be a sobering reminder for ourselves that no matter how much we see and hear and read about our Lord’s life and death, we still manage to fall into sin so very easily.  This reminder is not just something to be acknowledged as a fact, we must do some serious thinking about how we can improve our track record and not be such weak and easily tempted warriors of Christ.

Gethsemane was the first test.  Our blessed Lord complained to these, his closest friends, that his soul was suffering even unto death.  He begged them to keep watch with him as he prayed, but their response was to fall asleep.  This was their friend’s darkest hour, and they let him down.  Here is incentive enough never to sin again, so let’s resolve that we will from now on say the first of the sorrowful mysteries of the Rosary with renewed focus, reverence, and generosity.

When the soldiers came, St. Peter made a valiant but ill-advised attempt to defend our Lord.  He cut off the ear of the High Priest’s soldier, but was soundly rebuked by Jesus that he who lives by the sword shall die by the sword.  Violence in the face of violence is usually not the right answer, and sometimes we must be meekly led to the slaughter like the Lamb of God before us.  If we’re attacked for religious reasons, let our answer be that of our religion, to love our enemies.  This is the Christian way, and is the gateway to martyrdom.

After Gethsemane there were other tests awaiting Peter, James and John.  Some tests they passed, others they failed.  Our inspiration from these saints must be to follow them in their success while learning from their mistakes.  And above all, to die, like them, in the state of sanctifying grace with our many offences forgiven.

Sunday, March 10, 2019

FORTY REASONS TO KEEP THE FAST

A SERMON FOR QUADRAGESIMA


The First Sunday in Lent is called Quadragesima Sunday.  Quadragesima means “Forty”, which of course is a reference to the forty days and forty nights of Lent.  If you add up all the days from Ash Wednesday until Easter, then subtract the Sundays, when, of course, we don’t observe the fast, you’ll find that Lent is indeed forty days long.  It sometimes seems a lot longer, but just as time flies when you’re having fun, it tends to drag a bit when you’re not having fun.  And Lent is not the time for having fun.  Hopefully, we got all that out of our system at the Carnival time that ended last Tuesday night.

The Church makes sure we do some penance during this time of Lent by giving us strict laws of fast and abstinence, which keep us from overindulging in food for a while.  Most of you will also be practicing some form of private penance too, no doubt, such as giving up chocolate or cigarettes or alcohol, maybe saying an extra Rosary or giving a little more time to prayer and meditation.  This is all very well and commendable, but let’s remember two things: first, that we do not seek commendation—our Lord tell us that when we fast we shouldn’t go around with long faces like the hypocritical Pharisees, so that people may see and wonder at our imagined holiness.  “Let not your left hand know what the right hand is doing,” he goes so far as to say.  So let’s forget about bragging as to who gave up this or that, or who is fasting the hardest, or whatever.  We do it for God, in reparation for our sins.  Our reward will come from God if he deems us worthy of one.  But for those who receive praise from men, alas, “they have already received their reward.”

The second thing to remember is that no matter how severe our self-inflicted penance may be, it’s never really enough to make up for what we’ve done. Don’t forget that even a “small” venial sin is an infinite offence against an infinite God.  Just as it’s worse to steal a dollar from a poor man than from a millionaire, it’s not the size of the offence that matters so much as the person who is offended.  And to offend an all-loving God, we must acknowledge that our offence is indeed a dreadful thing.  We can do all the penance we want, we can even give our bodies to be burned, as St. Paul says, but without love, it profiteth me nothing.  St. Mary Magdalene was forgiven, our Lord tells us, “because she loved much.”  The more our penances are motivated by love, the more likely they are to be acceptable to God.

And why is Lent forty days long?  The period of forty days and forty nights occurs time and again in Sacred Scripture.  We know that when God punished the world with the Great Flood, it rained for forty days and forty nights.  When Moses climbed Mount Sinai to receive the Ten Commandments, he dwelt in God’s presence there for the same period of forty days and forty nights as preparation for the bestowal of the Law.  Elijah made the forty-day journey to Mount Horeb fasting the whole way.  And of course, most significantly for us, our Blessed Lord took himself into the wilderness in preparation for his ministry, and stayed there fasting for forty days and forty nights.

This number forty seems to have a special significance in Biblical history. It gives the idea of completeness—forty days and forty nights of pouring rain were ‘enough’ for God to purge the earth of its sin, ‘enough’ to purify Moses so he could worthily receive the Law of God. A fast of forty days in the case of Moses, Elijah and our Lord himself was deemed a sufficient preparation for what they were about to do or experience.  Even the Romans recognized the completeness of the number forty: it was Roman law that a prisoner could be scourged with no more than 39 lashes, as forty would be enough to kill them.

And so, in the year 320, when a bunch of Roman soldiers of the Legio Fulminata (the “Armed with Lightning Brigade”) were pulled out of the ranks and accused of being Christians, they immediately recognized the significance of their number. There were exactly forty of them, and as they were dragged out, naked, onto a frozen lake in the middle of winter, they rejoiced that they were forty, taking it as a sign from God that he would be with them as they slowly froze to death.  Meanwhile, their pagan guards had stoked up the fires on the banks of the lake, and prepared hot baths for anyone who would deny Christ and renounce his faith. Out on the ice, the forty soldiers thanked God that there were forty of them, and prayed that no one would commit apostasy and walk back to the hot tubs on the shore.  

But there’s always one, isn’t there!  So it was that one of the soldiers decided he just couldn’t take it anymore, and so he shivered his way back to the waiting Romans by the lakeside.  As promised, they allowed him to take a nice hot bath and get warm and cozy, as the other thirty-nine began to succumb to frostbite and exposure, now bitterly weeping that they had not succeeded in holding together their complete roster of forty.  But lo and behold, one of the Roman guards on shore was observing all this taking place, and, inspired by God, suddenly declared himself a Christian, stripped off his clothes and went to join the other thirty-nine on the ice. They were forty again, and thus they died, rejoicing.

When Easter comes, will we rejoice with them that we kept all forty days of Lent? That we observed every day the Church laws of fasting and our own voluntary penances, without faltering, cheating, or complaining?  Or will we find ourselves weeping and ashamed that we fell short of forty, and let ourselves take a break here and there?  On Good Friday, as we stand beneath the cross of Jesus, will we be able to look up into his eyes, confident and secure that we have done as he asked, by taking up our own cross and following him?  Or will we feel the need to avert our gaze, conscious of our miserable failings, our pathetic excuses, that it’s “too hard,” that “I’m too hungry,” “I don’t have time,” “it’s my birthday”?  Whatever our pretext of choice, the net result is that we will have failed to persevere during each of the forty days of Lent.

It might not be easy, but let’s face it, it’s not that hard either. Certainly not as difficult as freezing to death on a cold windswept ice-covered lake.   In this 21stcentury, we live rather pampered lives, and we have become weak.  Our response must not be to measure the difficulty of our task by our own weakness, but rather by comparing it with the actions of the saints, any one of which puts us to shame.  Today it’s the turn of the Forty Holy Martyrs to be commemorated, so let’s recognize that we too are warriors of Christ, that we too are “armed with lightning” and ready to fight off the coldness of our weak bodies with the flames of a heart burning with love for God.

THE GLORY OF THESE FORTY DAYS

A HYMN FOR QUADRAGESIMA


By Pope Gregory the Great, translated by Maurice F. Bell

1. The glory of these forty days
we celebrate with songs of praise,
for Christ, through whom all things were made,
himself has fasted and has prayed.

2. Alone and fasting Moses saw
the loving God who gave the law,
and to Elijah, fasting, came
the steeds and chariots of flame.

3. So Daniel trained his mystic sight,
delivered from the lions' might,
and John, the Bridegroom's friend, became
the herald of Messiah's name.

4. Then grant us, Lord, like them to be
full oft in fast and prayer with thee;
our spirits strengthen with thy grace,
and give us joy to see thy face.

5. O Father, Son and Spirit blest,
to thee be every prayer addressed,
who art in threefold name adored,
from age to age, the only Lord.

Sunday, March 3, 2019

BEHOLD, WE GO UP TO JERUSALEM

A SERMON FOR QUINQUAGESIMA


Quinquagesima Sunday is third and final trumpet call serving as a reminder of the coming of Lent.  These three pre-Lenten Sundays of Shrovetide serve the purpose of preparing us for Lent, and now that we’re only three days away from Ash Wednesday, the Church wants to make absolutely sure we know what it’s all about.  The Gospel and Epistle today cover the three main incentives for making a good Lent.  

First of all, in the Gospel, our Lord speaks to us about his future sufferings, that he will be delivered to the Gentiles (the Romans), and mocked and scourged and spit upon, then put to death.  This is the first direct allusion to his Passion and Death that we have seen in this year’s liturgical cycle.  Just as our Lord prepared his Apostles for those terrible events, so does the Church today put his words before us again, to prepare us in the same way.  With the benefit of our faith, this should arm us for the battle against the flesh which Lent truly is.  What greater incentive could there be for us to abandon our usual self-pampering, to sacrifice the gratification of our vain and trivial appetites, than when we’re confronted with the enormity of love that our Lord showed for us on Good Friday. If he could do all that for me, then surely I can do something for him…

We are entering upon the season of the Passion of our Lord.  His sufferings are not merely to be meditated upon in a drama that transpires before the eyes of our mind.  Note our Lord’s words when he says that weare going up to Jerusalem. He no longer wants to suffer alone, as he did that first Good Friday, when his apostles first slept through his agony in the Garden, then ran away and hid themselves when the soldiers came to arrest him.  Now he has a mystical body, a Church, whose members will surely follow him on the road to Calvary. This is the first meaning of Lent – the following of Jesus, the following of the crucified Lord. All Lenten practices serve as a means of subduing and crucifying the baser part of our fallen nature, and are a participation in the sacred Passion of our Lord. We cannot celebrate the Resurrection of Christ at Easter, unless we have followed the way of the cross with Christ during the time of Lent. 

The Gospel continues with a miracle of healing. Our Blessed Lord is on His way to Jerusalem when He meets a blind beggar. As soon as this beggar is aware that our Lord is passing by, he cries aloud: “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” Our Lord stops, allows the blind man to come closer, and asks him: “What wilt thou that I do for thee?” And he says: “Lord, that I may receive my sight.” And our Blessed Lord says to him: “Receive thy sight; thy faith has made thee whole.” and the beggar follows our Lord to Jerusalem, glorifying God.

Who is this blind man by the wayside?  He represents all of us.  We who suffer from spiritual blindness, we who fail to fully see the depth of Christ’s love for us, we may now approach the Son of God made man as he passes by this Lent on his way to Calvary and we may cry out from the very depths of our soul:  “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” And our Lord cures us from the blindness of our sin.  He  restores our spiritual sight by his Passion and Death, and so, like the blind beggar, we may then follow our Lord to Jerusalem, glorifying God.
            
This is the second great incentive for us to make a good Lent.  All we need do to have the fullness of grace restored to our souls is to cry to God for mercy with true desire for forgiveness.  To have repentance in our heart and the resolution to do better in our mind.  “Have mercy upon us, O Lord, for we have sinned against thee.  Say but the word, and my soul shall be healed.”  For the sake of our own souls, our salvation, and our eternal happiness therefore, we will cry out to God this Lent, and ask for his grace and for his mercy.

Finally, there remains one last motivation to draw us closer to God this Lent.  Without this last one, we shall not succeed, and no matter what we do this Lent out of just “duty”, or “because we have to”, it will all be for nought without this third and most important motive.  It is not enough for us to merely acknowledge God’s love for us on the Cross.  It isn’t enough just to mouth words of repentance and acknowledge our own sinfulness.  We could do all this, but it would be for nothing.  We could “speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but we would become as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal.  We could understand all mysteries , and have all knowledge; we could have all faith, so that we could remove mountains.  But if we do not have charity, we are nothing!  Though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.”

Charity then is the third, the most important, indeed the essential component in our preparation for Lent.  With charity, we may see God face to face, without it we are nothing. It is not enough just to see our Lord bleeding and dying in agony upon the Cross, if we have not charity, that is, love for that bleeding dying Saviour, we may as well be watching a movie as we snack on our popcorn.  His suffering demands that we follow him by suffering ourselves.   Nor is it enough just to pray.  The love of God must be behind our prayers, because without that love, our prayers are just sounding brass and tinkling cymbals.  We find ourselves once again hearing the echo of our Lord’s words when he said that the most important commandment we have from God is to love God!  To love him with all our heart and mind and soul and strength.

We must prepare for Lent by fostering this love in ourselves. Only with great love can we make a worthy response to God for the love he showed us on Good Friday.  Only with great love can we be perfectly contrite for our sins, detesting them “because they offend thee, my God, who art all good, and deserving of all my love.”  Let love be the driving force, then, behind our Lenten practices of prayer, fasting and almsgiving.  Prayer first: let love drive us to pray to the Lord in thanksgiving for his loving mercy to us, to beseech him that he may heal us of our blind and reckless attachment to sin.  Let us love God simply because he is God, all-perfect and infinitely love-able.  Our fasting comes next.  Let’s make sure we aren’t fasting just because we have to, but because it is our voluntary free-will gift to God of our own will, sacrificed to him out of love.  And finally, let’s not forget our almsgiving, whereby we may show our love for God also to his creatures, our fellow man, our neighbor.  Let’s show our love for God by loving our neighbor, bearing in mind that whatsoever we do to one of these least of our brethren, we do unto God himself.

If we can remember all this, then we are now ready to begin Lent, knowing what we have to do.  Lent is only forty days out of the entire year.  Use this most precious time wisely. By the time Easter arrives we want to be renewed and sanctified Christians.  So let us now go up to Jerusalem, let us embrace our crosses out of love for God, and let us carry them towards our own Good Friday, relying on God’s grace and mercy to give us strength to persevere.

GOD IS LOVE, LET HEAVEN ADORE HIM

A HYMN FOR QUINQUAGESIMA


By Timothy Rees (1874-1939)

God is love, let heaven adore him;
God is love, let earth rejoice;
let creation sing before him
and exalt him with one voice.
God who laid the earth’s foundation,
God who spread the heav’ns above,
God who breathes through all creation:
God is love, eternal love.
God is love; and love enfolds us,
all the world in one embrace;
with unfailing grasp God holds us,
ev’ry child of ev’ry race.
And when human hearts are breaking
under sorrow’s iron rod,
then we find that selfsame aching
deep within the heart of God.
God is love; and though with blindness
sin afflicts all human life,
God’s eternal loving-kindness
guides us through our earthly strife.
Sin and death and hell shall never
o’er us final triumph gain:
God is love, so love forever
o’er the universe must reign.

A LITANY OF LOVE

A MESSAGE FOR QUINQUAGESIMA


In England, the education system back in the 1960s assessed children at the age of eleven to determine what kind of secondary school they would attend.  There was an exam called the Eleven Plus, and depending on how well you scored, you would then be allocated to either a Secondary Modern School, where you would receive a basic but thorough education, while at the same time learning a trade; or to a Grammar School, either for boys or for girls as appropriate, where you would be prepared for higher learning in the universities.  Because in England there is no separation of State and Church, and the Anglican Church is the state religion, even in these public schools there was a mandatory religion class. At my very first such religion class at Keighley Boys’ Grammar School, our first homework was to learn, by heart, today’s Epistle word for word.

It goes to show what emphasis is placed by the Anglicans on this single chapter of St. Paul’s first Epistle to the Corinthians. Nor is the Church of England wrong in doing so, for it contains the single best description ever written of the virtue of charity, or love.  The Church founded by Christ, our own Catholic Church, has chosen this last Sunday before Lent to place this description before us, hoping to instill in us the importance of loving God with all our heart and mind and soul and strength, as well as loving our neighbor as ourselves.  For it can be only with this love to inspire us that we will be fully prepared for Lent, with all its demands on us to sacrifice our own desires and appetites, and solely for the sake of the good Lord who made us.

In the course of today’s Epistle, we are shown the recipe for a successful lifestyle.  Such a life does not require riches or property; no power or great achievements are needed.  Instead, as the Beatles so succinctly put it, “all you need is love.”  Nor does St. Paul waste any ink on any other type of love than that which is pleasing to God.  There is no confusion here nor ambiguity in his use of the word “love” or “charity.”  We would do well to take the central verses of this chapter, and in our meditations apply them to our own lives, comparing our actions and lifestyle to what St. Paul describes: “Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.  Charity never faileth.”

I would venture to say that there are very few among us who can describe their own life as measuring up to these demands of charity.  And if we do fall short, should we not find in these words the inspiration to do better? This is why we read them just a couple of days before Lent begins, with all its vigors.  We are being asked today to adjust our lifestyle so that it may correspond more truly to the words of St. Paul.  That our love for God and neighbor will drive us to greater sacrifices for both, through prayer, fasting and almsgiving.  And then, as we become closer to perfect, that we may expel our temptations to sin, our attachment to the vain pleasures and material wealth of this world: for “when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.”  

This is the Church’s desire for us as we move forward into that dark part of the year where we must dwell on our sins, and on the terrible things suffered by the Son of God to deliver us from them.  May God bless us at this time, and, with his grace, inspire us to new heights and depths of love for him and our neighbor.