THE LITURGICAL YEAR

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

Sunday, September 27, 2020

ONE GOD AND FATHER OF ALL

 A SERMON FOR THE 17TH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST


It is one of the modern-day errors that there is no real difference between the three “great” religions of the world.  By these are meant the religions of Christianity, Judaism and Islam.  Muslims even have a common name for the worshipers of these three religions—we are collectively known by them as “the people of the Book.”  Obviously, we all do have something in common with each other, namely, that we all worship one “God”.  But that shouldn’t blind us to the fact that only one of these religions worships the real God.  We are told that we should focus on our common beliefs, rather than on the differences that divide us.  But let’s remember that to do so, to ignore the falsehood taught by Judaism and Islam that Christ is not God is to deny the most basic truth of our faith, the nature of the Most Blessed Trinity.

Since Vatican II, there has been a very strong movement in favor of bringing all the religions of the world together to form a single institution.  We refer to this as the one-world religion.  It’s an integral part of the globalist movement, the idea that there should be a one-world government, that individual nations should cease to exist as sovereign states, but become part of a single state controlling all the people of the world and imposing an agenda of moral principles and watered-down beliefs that you can’t even imagine.  True religion, which speaks with authority to the inner beliefs and conscience of man, is naturally opposed to the idea that these most sacred and deeply held beliefs could be somehow controlled by a secular power.

And so the globalists have concluded that religion must not be openly banned, but rather be subordinated to their own ideals, that those profound and sincere beliefs we hold most sacred must be gradually eradicated and replaced with ideas of secularism, humanism and rationalism.  To achieve this, the globalists have been whittling away at our most traditional institutions, aiming always at the destruction of true religion, in other words, the Catholic Church.

They do this very cleverly.  They are not so obvious as the Marxist revolutionaries of Soviet Russia and the China of Mao Tse Tung.  They don’t claim that religion should be banished.  It’s really not religion they’re after, but those beliefs that we hold dear, those beliefs that we’re prepared to die for.  Their brilliant idea is not to do away with religion, but to make all religions the same so that no one knows what to believe any more—the contradictory beliefs of the different religions all become equally valid.  In the eyes of man it is becoming morally wrong, arrogant, intolerant, racist, to claim that your religion is the right one and the others are wrong.

Education has been completely perverted so that our colleges and universities replace traditional learning with so-called progressive programs designed to corrupt the minds of our youths.  I was at a graduation at St. John’s “Catholic” University in New York a few years ago, and noted the titles of the theses published by the various graduates, a compilation of feminism, gender studies, racial diversity issues, the normalization of sexual perversions, and so on.  Our young people are being prepared for these horrors as early as grade school, where the agenda of the Marxist Black Lives Matter movement is now being openly taught along with all the other corrupt and deviant beliefs of the far left.

The schools are backed up by modern culture.  Hollywood, television, even the so-called news media, have become tools of the globalists.  This poisonous culture has infiltrated even into religion, to the point where Pope Francis is himself an avowed globalist and never, ever seeks to correct the theological errors of false religions, but instead prefers to “learn” from them.  Even the Satanic voodoo cult is now openly admired by the Vatican, and we should not be surprised by the display of pagan gods like Pachamama in the most hallowed grounds of Christianianity.

In short, we live in a time of general apostasy and the breakdown of all barriers separating truth from error.  The current trend is no longer “I’m right and you’re wrong,” but “We’re all of us right.”  There is no more unchangeable dogma, no longer any attempt to seek out with good will a deeper understanding of objective truth.  Men of good will are unfortunately becoming more and more rare, and it is little wonder then that there is no more true peace on earth, and hardly any glory being given to God in the highest. 

Our answer to this problem is the usual answer, one that we should never tire of hearing.  It is to love the Lord thy God with all our heart and soul and mind.  Notice, we must love God with our mind.  That means we must understand with our mind who God is, and who he is not.  Our Lord explains this to the Jews in today’s Gospel, reminding them that Christ is not merely the Son of David, but is also the Son of God.  Half the truth is as good as a lie.  To deny the Blessed Trinity isn’t even half the truth, it’s only a third of the truth.  Which is why the Jewish religion and the Moslem religion are lies.  They do not lie by saying there is only one God.  They lie by saying that Christ is not God, that the Holy Ghost is not God.  Lies are always hidden amongst the truth, like chaff among the wheat, weeds among the flowers.  When the weeds are hidden like that, It makes them harder to find.  St. Paul reminds us in today’s Epistle to the Ephesians that there is one Lord, one God and Father of all, but he also says there is but one faith and one baptism.  As Catholics, we know what faith and baptism that is.
But there’s another aspect to this love of God by which we love him as the Way, the Truth and the Life.  And that is the second great commandment, which is “like unto” the first.  “Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.”  Even as we look with dismay upon the Jews and the Moslems and the Protestants as they embrace their beliefs in lies and half-truths, we must, for all that, love them.

A beautiful and literal example of this love was shown by Pope Pius XII and many of his priests and nuns of Rome during the Second World War, when they sheltered Jews from the murderous Nazis who occupied the Holy City.  At great risk to their own lives, they hid them in their convents and monasteries, even in the Vatican itself.  So impressed was the Chief Rabbi of Rome that he converted to Christianity after the war.  Such is the supernatural effect of true Christian charity. 

Another example was shown by the two saints whose feastday we celebrate today, Saints Cosmas and Damian.  They were two brothers, medical doctors who practiced in the time of the Emperor Diocletian, and the Breviary tells us that they healed diseases hopeless causes in many cases, not so much by their knowledge of medicine as by the power of Christ.  One such case was of a man who had lost his leg in an accident.  They happened to have the leg of a Moslem kicking around in their basement, and so they replaced their patient’s leg with that of the Moslem.  They paid no heed to the race or religion of the donor.  Cosmas and Damian didn’t care that the new leg was a different colour than the man’s original limb.  They had no worries about the fact that it had belonged to an infidel.  They simply healed.  Let us pray to these two brothers for their help and intercession that they are able to amputate any hatred in our hearts and drain any misplaced venom from our tongues and minds.

The point is, if we truly love God, everything else falls into place.  We can’t truly love God while at the same time we despise our neighbor.  And we can’t truly love God while at the same time we deny the truths that he has revealed.  The difficulty always comes in loving those neighbors who live in error about God.  We’ve tried everything from the medieval inquisitions and burnings to the modern-day tolerance of absolutely everything.  Neither works because both are too extreme.  We need to learn from our Lord’s example, who always healed the sick while showing them the way out of their error.  He healed not just their bodies, but their minds and consequently their souls.  This is true Christian charity, true love of God and neighbor, and it’s the only way the globalists can be beaten .  As they say, “Love conquers all.”


THY HAND, O GOD, HAS GUIDED

 A HYMN FOR THE 17TH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST


By Edward H. Plumptre, 1864

Thy hand, O God, has guided
Thy flock from age to age;
The wondrous tale is written,
Full clear, on every page;
Our fathers owned Thy goodness,
And we their deeds record;
And both of this bear witness,
“One Church, one Faith, one Lord.”

Thy heralds brought glad tidings,
To greatest, as to least;
They bade men rise, and hasten
To share the great King’s feast;
And this was all their teaching,
In every deed and word,
To all alike proclaiming,
“One Church, one Faith, one Lord.”

Through many a day of darkness,
Through many a scene of strife,
The faithful few fought bravely,
To guard the nation’s life,
Their Gospel of redemption,
Sin pardoned, man restored,
Was all in this enfolded,
“One Church, one Faith, one Lord.”

And we, shall we be faithless?
Shall hearts fail, hands hang down?
Shall we evade the conflict,
And cast away our crown?
Not so: in God’s deep counsels
Some better thing is stored:
We will maintain, unflinching,
“One Church, one Faith, one Lord.”

Thy mercy will not fail us,
Nor leave Thy work undone;
With Thy right hand to help us,
The victory shall be won;
And then, by men and angels,
Thy Name shall be adored,
And this shall be their anthem,
“One Church, one Faith, one Lord.”


KEEPING HOLY THE SABBATH

A MESSAGE FOR THE 17TH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST


My upcoming trip to Kansas City this week made me think of those unfortunate folks, victims one and all of Vatican II, who find themselves too far from the traditional Mass to be able to fulfill their Sunday obligations.  That got me thinking about the nature of these obligations, when exactly they apply, and what we should do if we are unable to meet them.

 

First of all, it should be said that the obligation to attend Mass on Sundays and Holy Days is not one of the Ten Commandments.  The Third Commandment tells us to remember to observe the Sabbath, which is the seventh day of the week, on which God “rested” after his work of Creation.  It does not tell us we have to go to Mass on Sunday.  The Apostles changed the day on which we are commanded to give external worship to God from Saturday to Sunday in honor of the Resurrection and of Pentecost, both of which occurred on the first day of the week.  It was also deemed more fitting to give honor to God on this first day, that is before all other works are begun.  The “opus Dei”, or Work of God, should come first.

 

In making Mass attendance a precept of the Church, a grave obligation was imposed upon the faithful to obey it.  Going to Mass has never been an option that should be decided upon when you wake up on Sunday morning.  The obligation is grave, and should never be ignored for superficial reasons.  We have six days to complete all the other obligations we feel we may have in life, but surely, we can give to God one day of the week?  The Church does not ask this question, she answers it.  And we know the answer.  Sporting events, social occasions, political or business meetings are, or should be banned on Sundays, and Catholics should never participate in them on this day.  The reason is simple, that they distract us from our primary duty, which is to give honor to God.  Attendance at Mass is part of that duty, but by no means the only one.  We must also refrain from any idle servile work, from shopping, from doing business—in short, from anything that takes us away from what we belong doing.

 

Recreation is not banned, and indeed may be considered quite appropriate.  Family picnics, a drive in the country, an informal game of soccer, suitable video games, these are all things that may be done as part of our Sunday relaxation.  But more formal sports, where some kind of obligation is imposed on participating, that’s a different story.

 

When may we legitimately miss Mass?  When the distance from our home is so inconvenient that it becomes a legitimate burden on us or our family.  Even then, care must be taken not to abandon the Holy Sacrifice altogether, but rather we should make the long trip as often as we think prudent and justified.  The sick are excused of course, as well as those who must stay home to take care of them.  Those who work in jobs that must be performed on Sundays, such as nurses, police officers, bakers, and so on, are also excused, but they should try and manipulate their shifts so as to be able to attend if possible.  Working at MacDonald’s is not a legitimate reason for missing Mass, so get a job at Chick-Fil-A instead.

 

Finally, we must “remember to keep the Sabbath”.  This is most definitely one of the Ten Commandments, and even if we can’t attend Mass, we are still obliged to give worship to God on this day, no matter what.  To disobey this commandment is to defy the law of God himself, and that may never be done!


Sunday, September 20, 2020

A BEAST BEFORE THEE

 A SERMON FOR THE 16TH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST


Ut juméntum factus sum apud te:  et ego semper tecum ("I am become as it were a beast before thee:  and I am alway by thee").  Words taken from the 72nd psalm, read every Thursday at the Office of Terce.  “I am become a beast before thee.”   A beast.  An animal.  Is that good or bad?

Actually, the words of the Psalm clearly indicate that something positive is going on here, and that by becoming a "beast", as it were, we are placing ourselves somehow more in line with what God wants us to be.  The very next verse of the Psalm gives us the clue:  "Thou hast holden me by my right hand:  and by thy will hast thou guided me, and with thy glory thou hast received me."  Just as we lead around a show horse, or an elephant at the circus, so God leads us around, showing us the way, guiding us to be as he desires us to be.  To be as a beast before God is therefore good.  But it doesn’t stop there, and there is a major difference when all’s said and done.

Man is, in a sense an “animal.”  The word animal comes from the Latin “anima” meaning soul.  And like the animals we have a living soul that allows us to move, communicate, eat and drink, breed, and so on.  But unlike the other animals, man is distinguished by his reason and his free will.  This places him above the other animals.  This freedom of our will does not always give us the liberty of equal options.  One isn’t “free” to choose good or evil at one's pleasure, with either being an equally valid choice.  That is the understanding of "liberals", that we are perfectly free to choose to do whatever we want.  Yes, free will gives us the ability to choose evil.  But it doesn't give us the right to choose evil.

Animals on the other hand do not have free will.  They act according to the nature the good Lord endowed them with.  You may object that a dog, for example, chooses whether to obey or disobey his owner.  Most of us know what it’s like to come home and find the cushion stuffing strewn all over the living room, with the dog skulking in the corner with its tail between its legs.  Certainly, the dog knows when it has misbehaved, and will show certain indications of a knowledge therefore of good and evil.  But they are not rationally aware of the existence of moral good or evil.  They simply know instinctively and by experience that certain actions are going to get their butts kicked.

An animal, a "beast" always acts according to its God-given nature.  When the dog lovingly nuzzles up to its owner--or bites the postman--it is following its natural instinct.  It can be trained to act differently.  Indeed it should be trained, especially if you don't want your shoes chewed up, or a lawsuit from the postal service.  And some animals are more easily trained than others, and this ability too is part of their nature.  It's not a good idea to have an alligator as a pet, because it can not be easily trained.  It will chew up not just your shoes, but your children too.  It will eat the postman.

The patron saint of animals is of course St. Francis of Assisi.  We celebrated the feastday of his stigmata last Thursday, the day we read those words that “I am become as a beast before thee.”  St. Francis received his stigmata in a remote part of Tuscany called Monte Alverno.  Today a Franciscan monastery stands on the spot where the miracle took place, and on the grounds there, the monks built what they call the Cappella degli Uccelli, the Chapel of the Birds.  St. Francis understood animals very well, It is said that birds often gathered to listen to his sermons.    So not only did St. Francis understand animals very well, it seems that the birds too understood St. Francis in some way.  There’s a famous painting of St. Francis holding three little birds on his hands, and these birds are singing to their heart's content. But St. Francis's eyes are filled with tears.  I read that someone had asked him why he was so sad when the little birds were singing so happily.  And his answer to this question will help us understand what it is to be a saint, what it is to see things as God sees them.  It also helps us understand why we must become “as a beast” before God.  St. Francis spoke to the birds which had settled on his hands to sing, and this is what he said: "Little birds, you were created to sing--and you do sing.  Man is created to love--and he loveth not!"

Yes, man has free will.  And how often does he abuse that free will by choosing to do his own will and not God’s will?  By abusing his free will, his God-given nature, he actually places himself beneath the animals.  For the animals do not have free will, and therefore act always according to the will of God who created them with the nature they have.  This is why we must say with the psalmist:  "I am become as it were a beast before thee"--My will is like that of a dumb animal, totally subordinated to the will of God, and therefore pleasing to God at all times.  This is our daily struggle.  This is why we must fight our fallen natures and strive not to follow our own whims and fancies, but rather keep in mind always what God wants us to do at every moment of the day.  Difficult?  Yes.  But that's one of the main reasons God created all the animals that inhabit the earth.  It’s why he allowed their various species to survive the Great Flood of Noah.  They are our inspiration.  Whether large or small, whether they fly in the air, walk on the land, or swim in the sea, they all exist to remind us that we human beings, so superior to the animals in so many respects, have so much to learn from them nevertheless.

And if we imitate the animals and obey God's law, the natural law, or Law of Nature as God created it, then we truly place ourselves above the animals.  Because it will be our choice to obey God.  Our choice to love God.  Our free will acting in accordance with the divine.  The very fact that, unlike the animals, we must struggle to do God's will places us above the animals when we succeed but beneath them when we fail.  Never insult the animals by telling someone he’s acting like an animal when he commits a sin.  Because he’s not acting like an animal.  In fact he’s acting far worse.  Because an animal cannot sin.  An animal cannot offend God.

So if you want to know what it is to please God, look to the animals.  Look to the birds who chirp outside your window, to the dog who’s happily chewing up your flower bed.  Look to the mosquito as it lands on your arm for lunch.  None of them offend God.  They are part of nature, the natural world as God created it for our instruction.  Learn from them, and become more like them, "beasts" before God, doing his will and not our own.  Do it freely, and thus will you take your rightful place above the beasts, who have no choice but to do God's will.  You on the other hand will be acting freely, giving God freely of your obedience and love.  It is for this freely chosen love of God that God created mankind.  It is the only thing he wants from us—your love.  At the Office of Sunday Lauds, we pray the Benedicite.  This canticle makes us mindful of our need to be like the beasts and yet above them, and we should pray it often: "O ye Whales, and all that move in the waters, bless ye the Lord:  O all ye Fowls of the Air, bless ye the Lord.  O all ye Beasts and Cattle, bless ye the Lord.  O ye Children of Men, bless ye the Lord."

KING OF GLORY, KING OF PEACE

 A HYMN FOR THE 16TH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST


By George Herbert, 1593-1633

 

1 King of glory, King of peace,

I will love Thee;

and that love may never cease,

I will move Thee.

Thou hast granted my request,

Thou hast heard me;

Thou didst note my working breast,

Thou hast spared me.

 

2 Wherefore with my utmost art

I will sing Thee,

and the cream of all my heart

I will bring Thee.

Though my sins against me cried,

Thou didst clear me;

and alone, when they replied,

Thou didst hear me.

 

3 Sev'n whole days, not one in sev'n,

I will praise Thee;

in my heart, though not in heav'n,

I can raise Thee.

Small it is, in this poor sort

to enroll Thee:

e'en eternity's too short

to extol Thee.


ST. EUSTACE AND MOTHER NATURE

 A REFLECTION FOR THE 16TH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST


Today's feastday is of St. Eustace and his family.  The life of this saint is replete with animals, and it is a good illustration of how the animals, despite being dumb beasts, act according to God's will and for our salvation.

 

The pagan Eustace was going hunting one day, and he chased down a magnificent stag.  But before he had the chance to shoot his arrow, he beheld that between the stag's antlers was an image of the crucified Saviour.  St. Eustace immediately put down his bow and converted to Christianity along with his wife and two sons.  Chosen to suffer for his new Lord and Master, his life was soon beset with many difficulties.  Among these, his wife was kidnapped by a pirate, one son was carried off by a lion and the other by a wolf.  Does that make the lion and this wolf "bad"?  No, they were carrying out the will of a Divine Providence that had other things in store for St. Eustace.  For as grief-stricken as he was by the loss of his sons, so much greater was his joy when he was later reunited with them and his wife in Rome.  Just as he had spared the stag, so did the lion and wolf spare his two sons.

 

With his family together again, St. Eustace was overjoyed.  But again, problems arose when the emperor tried to force him to sacrifice to the pagan gods.  When he refused, he and his family were thrown to the ravenous beasts of the arena.  And now here's a strange thing:  these animals had been deliberately starved so that they would attack and eat the Christians all the more ferociously.  But in the case of St. Eustace and his wife and two boys, they refused to attack them.  God intervened in their natural instincts, causing them to lie down at the feet of the condemned Christians.  The beasts did not argue with God, they did not insist on following their own will as many of us humans would do, they simply obeyed God as perfectly as only animals and saints seem to have the capability of doing.

 

This infuriated the emperor of course, but he had a final trick up his sleeve.  If God could create animals who would follow His divine will rather than their own, then he, Caesar, had created an animal that would do Caesar's will.  One of the emperor’s favorite methods of torture was a huge brass ox.  It was hollow inside, and had a trapdoor underneath it.  This was opened up, and the Roman soldiers crammed St. Eustace, his wife, and two sons up through the hole.  It was incredibly dark and hot and cramped in there, and the four Christians could hardly breathe, let alone move.  But they were happy that they were to die together as a family.  Finally, the soldiers lit a fire underneath the brazen ox, which became so hot it began to glow from the heat.  And yet the family of four managed to sing hymns to God until the heat inside the ox was so intense that they perished.  Did Caesar triumph by this display of power, that he too could create an animal that would do his will?   Of course not.  It was not a living beast, but a piece of sculpted brass.  And brass too, in its own lifeless way does the will of God by behaving according to its own nature.  When heat is applied to it, it gets hot.  A very simple law of physics perhaps, but a law nevertheless which God made, and not the emperor.  Their bodies may have perished, but their souls were released to heaven.  We cannot outwit the Almighty.

 

Nature was created for man.  We can abuse it or we can use it for the purposes for which God intended.  “It” has no choice but to behave as God created it.  We do have choices, and we must make them wisely.


Sunday, September 13, 2020

DANCING WITH THE DEVIL

 A SERMON FOR THE 15TH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST


When we think of children’s stories, tranquil images of unicorns and rainbows pop into our mind, and we relax to think of our little ones filling their heads with such wholesome and idyllic thoughts.  But this was not always the case.  There was a time, not too long ago, when anthologies of tales for children contained horrific stories of violence, fear, and horror.  Wolves, who disguised themselves as little old ladies so they could eat the little girls who came to visit them; misshapen dwarves who bribed kings by spinning gold thread in exchange for their little girls; wicked queens who envied the beauty of their stepdaughters and who plotted murder by putting poison in their apples; witches who lived in gingerbread cottages in the forest, enticing young children so they could cook them up for dinner.  These are the stories of which nightmares are made, and yet, our parents fondly read them to us every night and expected us to have a good night’s sleep!

There’s one story in particular though, that awakens in us, more than any other, the most primal fear of all.  It draws its horror from three factors—first of all, because of the large number of child victims; secondly, because the ending is left to our imagination; and third, most disturbing of all, is that it seems to be based on actual events. 

It takes place in a picturesque little town in Lower Saxony, Germany, back in the thirteenth century, and tells the tale of a terrible plague of rats.  Rats are frightening enough at the best of times, but back then, they were even more terrifying as the bearers of the dreaded bubonic plague that was sweeping across Europe at the time.  Known as the Black Death, this was probably the first great pandemic, and it wreaked true havoc, killing about 25 million people in Europe.  So when more and more rats began to infest the town of Hamelin, the town elders got together and vowed to call in a rat catcher—a Rattenfänger.

And so, into the town of Hamelin came one rat catcher after another.  They were all armed, typically, with a terrier who would sniff out the rats, and a few sharp knives to kill them with.  But none of them were successful.  Try as they would, the rats remained and continued to multiply.  Finally, as the townfolk became desperate in their plight, into the town strutted a man unlike any rat catcher anyone had ever seen.  He was dressed to the knives in gaily-colored fancy clothes, and all he carried was a little flute.  You can imagine the skepticism and curiosity of the townspeople as they wondered how on earth he was going to rid them of their plague of rats.  He promised them, however, that after he had finished, there would be no more rats in Hamelin, and so the town elders agreed to a very high price for the job, figuring this effeminate musician in fancy dress would be no match for the thousands of rats that infested their town. 

But this pied piper started to play a tune on his flute and suddenly, to everyone’s astonishment, all the rats came out of their hiding places and flocked to listen.  He continued playing as he led the procession of rats through the streets, past the city gates and out of the town.  The rats were gone forever. But when the piper returned for his money, the elders now refused to pay him.  In his rage, he picked up his flute and started playing again.  This time it was not rats but the children of the town who flocked to him and started to dance in a hysterical frenzy.  It was the dreaded St. Vitus’ dance, and the townsfolk were powerless to drag them away from the hypnotic music.  Again, out through the city gates he led them in procession, and the pied piper and children disappeared over the hill, never to be seen again.

There is an ancient plaque attached to one of the medieval half-timbered houses of Hamelin that gives credence to the horrific event:  “A.D. 1284 – on the 26th of June – the day of St. John and St. Paul – 130 children – born in Hamelin – were led out of the town by a piper wearing multicoloured clothes. After passing the Calvary near the Koppenberg they disappeared forever.”  Further adding to the evidence that this was a true story, the official records of the town contain an entry dating to 1384, which laments that, “It is 100 years since our children left.” 

Today, we are passing through something eerily similar to the story of the Pied Piper of Hamelin.  It hasn’t finished coming together yet, and we don’t yet know the ending, but we must remain vigilant that things don’t turn out as badly as they did in Hamelin.  Once again, our world has been hit with a pandemic.  This time it isn’t the rat who gets the blame, but our modern technology has been able to identify the true villain as a virus.  Just as in Hamelin, our modern-day “rat catchers”, now known as doctors and scientists, have been unable to eradicate the plague from our midst.  The tune they play has become annoyingly familiar, “Wear your mask!”, “Social distancing,” “Close the schools, the restaurants, the hair salons.”  And in step with the tune, we now have thousands of people, not dancing in the street, but rioting, in acts of frenzied hatred equal to the dreadful throes of St. Vitus’ dance.  Decent people are fleeing the cities just like the rats in the story.

You see, it wasn’t the rats and it isn’t the Coronavirus that are the true villains.  We await the arrival of a pied piper who will appear to save the day, but at what expense?  He will no doubt be a fascinating villain who will allure many away with his tempting speech.  Even many of the elect shall be deceived.  Will we be saved by a vaccine that will somehow take away our ability to control our own destiny—perhaps by denying us the ability to function economically if we refuse it?  Will we be forced to wear masks and maintain social distancing forever, thereby destroying human society in all its forms?  Could it even be that they will dare to take away our children if they discover that either they, or we, test positive for the disease and that we must be separated?  Rumors to this effect abound.

Let’s be very careful what price we agree to pay if the powers that be declare such provisions and create new laws “for our own good.”  Oftentimes, the cure is worse than the disease, and when it comes time to pay the piper and realize the true value of the price we’re forced to pay, it’s too late to do anything about it.  Let’s be ready to refuse the piper’s alluring tune of “health and safety,” “mutual protection”, and so on.  There comes a time when we must refuse the state if it ever claims the right to defy the laws of God.

Today’s Gospel is a mirror image of the fairy tale of the Pied Piper.  It takes us to the city gate, not of Hamelin but of Nain.  A procession is leaving the city, not of many children but of only one, escorted by his mother and townsfolk.  The child is dead.  And now we witness the difference between God and the Devil.  Satan, in the alluring robes of the Pied Piper, leads the living children out of the city, presumably to a horrible fate.  Our blessed Lord on the other hand stands at the city gate and raises a dead child to life.  The historical plaque in Hamelin describes how the children passed the Calvary near the Koppenberg and then disappeared.  In our Gospel, the widow’s dead son has already passed through his own Calvary of suffering and death, and rather than being led to an even worse fate, he is instead restored to life. 

The Pied Piper makes sure the children don’t stop at the Calvary on their way out of town.  These Calvaries are shrines placed on country paths throughout Germany, with life-size crucifixes offering a resting place for travelers to stop and pray.  He doesn’t want them to stop and pray, obviously, and instead, he leads them straight past and on to the Koppenberg, or Koppen Mountain.  Koppen in German means cobblestones, and in certain German dialects cobblestones are referred to as Kinderkoppen—children’s heads…  This is the destination for the Pied Piper’s 130 children.

I don’t know who the mysterious Pied Piper really was.  But I suspect that, with his magical powers, he was more demonic than human.  The people in today’s Gospel, on the other hand, are left in no doubt who the miracle worker is.  “They glorified God, saying, That a great prophet is risen up among us; and, That God hath visited his people.  The Devil leaves a town in tragic mourning, not unlike the town of Bethlehem after the slaughter of the Holy Innocents.  Our Lord leaves the town of Nain in great joy and wonder, the townsfolk praising God and giving thanks and glory.

This is why, whatever this current plague has in store for us, we must place our trust not in those who would lead us into temptation, sin, and a godless lifestyle, the pied pipers of our time.  We must trust only in the Good Shepherd: “He leadeth me beside the still waters, he restoreth my soul.  He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his Name's sake.”  Whatever life has in store for us, the remedy against all ills is always to remain close to the side of this Good Shepherd and be led only by him.  If we are lost, he will find us.  All we have to do is call out to let him know that we want to be found.  Pray hard for all sinners, ourselves included, and especially at the hour of our death.  And as we remember the Pied Piper of Hamelin today, think of those of our young people who have followed the Pied Pipers of self-interest, pleasure, greed, and apathy, and no longer come to Mass or receive the sacraments.  They are outside the city walls, where there is no salvation, and we must pray they break away from whatever evil leads them, and return to the safety of the fold.  They may be far from death, with many years of opportunity to return to the faith.  Or they may not.  So many of our children are dancing with the Devil, and sooner or later, the Devil will turn around and dance on their toes.  Pray that they escape his clutches and are not led to the Koppenberg, but back to the Calvary of Grace and Redemption. 


LEAD, KINDLY LIGHT

 A HYMN FOR THE 15TH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST


By John Henry Cardinal Newman
 
Lead, Kindly Light, amidst th'encircling gloom,
Lead Thou me on!
The night is dark, and I am far from home,
Lead Thou me on!
Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene; one step enough for me.

I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou
Shouldst lead me on;
I loved to choose and see my path; but now
Lead Thou me on!
I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,
Pride ruled my will. Remember not past years!

So long Thy power hath blest me, sure it still
Will lead me on.
O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till
The night is gone,
And with the morn those angel faces smile,
Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile!

Meantime, along the narrow rugged path,
Thyself hast trod,
Lead, Saviour, lead me home in childlike faith,
Home to my God.
To rest forever after earthly strife
In the calm light of everlasting life.


MOTHER OF SORROWS

 A REFLECTION FOR THE 15TH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST


Our Blessed Lord happened to be visiting a city called Nain, along with a large number of his disciples and followers.  As he approached the gate of the city, they bumped into a funeral procession making its way out of the city towards the cemetery.  The dead man was unusually young, and his death was an untimely one.  He was the only son of his mother, who was a widow.  She had no means of support—there was no welfare state back then to take care of widows, and if they had no one to support them, they became basically penniless and homeless.  So the death of the young man was a double tragedy, and of course our Lord took pity on her.

 

“Young man, I say unto thee, Arise.  And he that was dead sat up and began to speak.  And he delivered him to his mother.”  The people were duly amazed and gave glory to God, proclaiming that a great prophet was risen up among them, and that God had visited his people.  Truly, this was a prophetic act, for not long after, another dead man will be taken down from a cross and delivered into the arms of his mother.  Today’s joyful scene will be repeated, only instead of holding a son who had already come back from the dead, the Blessed Virgin Mary would cradle her dead son in her arms, in that dreadful tableau so familiar to us as the Pietà.

 

The feast of the Most Sorrowful Mother falls on Tuesday of this week, and the correspondence of the two Gospels could not be more vivid, separated as they are by tomorrow’s feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross.  What an extraordinary juxtaposition of mysteries we witness this year, as we pass from the sorrow and death of the widow’s son to his resurrection, and then tomorrow to the Holy Cross, symbol of both the death of Jesus and the life he brings us, and finally to the Seven Sorrows of the Mother of God, as she cradles her only Son for the last time and commits his body to the grave, a holy sepulcher from which he too will rise from the dead.

 

By unhappy coincidence, we say goodbye this week to another mother’s son and alter Christus, Fr. Anthony Cekada, known to many of you here today.  His fate follows that of the widow’s son and the Virgin’s Son alike, and we know by our faith that he, like them, will pass from the sorrows of death to the glory of the resurrection.  Please pray that his last journey be swift and merciful.


Sunday, September 6, 2020

ADDING A CUBIT TO YOUR STATURE

 A SERMON FOR THE 14TH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST


“Which of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature?”  It’s an interesting concept, maybe one you experimented with when you were younger.  You really concentrate on getting taller, you try really hard, but no matter how much you focus or imagine, you’re still the same height you started out with.  Disappointing.  What’s interesting though, is that every year, when you stand against the wall and your mother makes another pencil mark, you’re amazed to find that actually, you have grown, and you’re an inch or two taller than on your last birthday!  Some things, you see, are out of our control, and there’s nothing we can do to make them happen or not happen.  But in cases like this, we leave them up to God, and, one way or another, he takes care of them for us.

Obviously, this does not apply to everything.  I might try very hard and concentrate as hard as I possibly can, but it doesn’t seem to make me any thinner.  So should I leave it up to God and let him take care of it?  Every year or two, I have to buy a longer belt, so I don’t think that letting God handle it is going to work.  There are times when it is we need to take control of the situation, and God leaves it up to us with our free will to maintain that control.  We need to exercise that free will.  In fact, some of us just need to exercise, period.

We have to be very careful and discerning as we follow our Lord’s advice to consider the lilies of the field that “toil not, neither do they spin.”  The difference between us and the lilies is that they have no free will, and so all their needs have to be taken care of by God and the nature he created.  But when our Lord advises us to “take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink?” he doesn’t mean we should just show up at the dinner table and expect a three-course meal to appear miraculously in front of us.  We have the responsibility of making sure we do the shopping, follow the recipe, peel the potatoes, and cook the dinner at the right temperature for the right amount of time.  God won’t do all that for us.  The point our Lord is making is that “our heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things,” and will provide you with the means of feeding yourselves and your family.  But it’s up to us to use those means and resources that God gives us.  And somehow we do seem to receive what we need.  After allas is  our Lord points out, if God is so solicitous about a humble flower, how much more shall he not clothe you?

When we pray, we must pray not for luxury and comfort, but for the needful things of life—a roof over our heads, a means of income, a good family who will work together to provide that income, do the cooking, set the table, and do the dishes afterwards.  These are our jobs, not God’s, and if we “seek first the kingdom of God” then we can be assured that “all these things shall be added unto you.”  We will do the work to find a good job, to buy a decent home in a good neighborhood that we can afford and take care of.  We will take the necessary steps to train our children in the faith, and bring them up to love God, to frequent the sacraments, and, yes, to obey the commandments.  God provides, we take what he gives us and use it for the greater good.

In short, God helps those who help themselves.  And when God gives us the opportunity to help ourselves, we would be wise not to ignore it.  If our house is on fire, we shouldn’t just sit there and expect God to save us while we ignore the firefighter who offers to carry us out.  Sometimes though, those opportunities are not quite so obvious.  Which brings me to the Sacrament of Confirmation.  As I announced last week, we’re going to be having Confirmations here shortly, and so we should consider whether or not this is one of those opportunities provided by God which we should take advantage of and use for the greater good of ourselves and our family.  If God is going to provide us with this opportunity to receive the fullness of the Holy Ghost with all that implies, it would not be wise for us to ignore it. 

What motivation should we have to receive this sacrament of Confirmation?  “Coincidentally,” in today’s Epistle, God provides us with a very strong reason for getting confirmed.  St. Paul compares those who are led of the Spirit with those who are not.  It’s a contrast that is unambiguous and should leave us in no doubt as to the only two possible conclusions to our life.  If we do the things we want to do, namely the works of the flesh, we will sin our way to hell, and will never be able to inherit the kingdom of God.  But if we’re led by the Spirit, we shall bear the fruits of the Spirit that will save our poor souls.  Who is this Spirit, if not the Third Person of the Holy Trinity, the Holy Spirit himself.  And how are to we to bear his fruits if not by receiving the fullness of the Spirit in the Sacrament of Confirmation?  Here then is one of the most important means we have from God to save our souls.  If we are to fight and win the battle against our fallen human nature, the world, and the devil, we should arm ourselves by being confirmed as warriors of God.  The importance of Confirmation cannot be over-emphasized.  Without it, we go into battle without armor and without weapons.  How can we expect to win? 

Let’s make it our number one priority over these coming weeks to make sure we and those under our care prepare ourselves to receive this sacrament if we haven’t already done so.  Let’s get out our catechisms and teach our children about the Holy Ghost and the Sacrament of Confirmation, preparing them to become soldiers in Christ’s army.  Let’s thank God for this rare opportunity when bishops are so few and far between, by focusing on what is within our own power and free will to choose, and then letting everything else fall into place according to the workings of Divine Providence.  Let us do as Christ himself told us: “Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.”  Our efforts might not produce an immediate result in our own lives or those of our children.  But I’m sure and certain that, over time, when we come to take measure of ourselves later, we will find that through the infinite power and graces that come from the Holy Ghost, we will indeed have added a cubit to our stature.