UPON THEM HATH THE LIGHT SHINED

 A SERMON FOR ADVENT SUNDAY

So much has happened during this year, and very little of it has been good.  This time last year, we were happily enjoying our country’s strongest economy ever, its lowest unemployment ever, with a president who seemed as though nothing could stop him, that he would be invincible in the upcoming election of 2020.  The children of darkness kept trying, but they kept failing.  But then, as soon as the impeachment farce ended in January, suddenly as if by magic (black magic no doubt), there appeared a strain of flu that would be used as the ultimate weapon to destroy all the president had accomplished. 

 

Last week, when we read in the Gospel about the abomination of desolation standing in the holy place, our thoughts couldn’t help turning to a more natural equivalent—to the horrific picture of Joe Biden moving into the White House, a supposed Catholic who has voted at every opportunity throughout his career to promote the murder of unborn children.  Truly an abomination.  And when we read how we should flee into the mountains, we think of how we’re being forced to flee the “dreaded virus” by involuntary seclusion in our homes, quarantines in which our elderly loved ones are trapped in hospitals and nursing homes, lined up like lambs for the slaughter by the likes of Governor Cuomo of New York (another supposed Catholic by the way), effectively being euthanized by forced close contact with coronavirus patients, separated from their family, and with not even a priest allowed in to give them the Last Rites.  Turn on the TV, even Fox, and all you find is non-stop coverage of Biden’s latest picks for a cabinet millions believe he’s not entitled to, and the total acceptance of an extremely dubious election.  The so-called Catholic bishops are falling over each other to join Planned Parenthood in congratulating our “new Catholic president.”  Where can we turn to shine light on all this darkness.  Truly, everywhere we look, there are nothing but false prophets who, as our Lord prophesied, are successfully deceiving even the very elect.

 

Is there any light at all in this darkness?  Today’s Gospel tells us there will be signs in the sun, and in the moon, and in the stars.  Even the sun has lost its light, as the bright light of the Catholic Church is by now almost extinguished.  We have popes and bishops who promote the values of the French Revolution—liberty, brotherhood and equality—rather than the kingship of Christ.  And the sun gets no help from the moon, our nation, with the prospect of the anti-Christian Democratic party bubbling up from the swamp to complete its globalist agenda and the destruction of America.  This moon of the Deep State has lost whatever light of truth and decency it ever had, and the stars follow this moon into the darkness.  The stars of Hollywood and television happily lead the way with their barrage of propaganda, indoctrinating us with their own ideals, the glorification of self-absorption, the promotion of all forms of vice, natural and even unnatural.  False prophets everywhere.

 

But last week, we also learned that we have the means at our disposal to maintain our faith and hope in God’s providence alive and strong.  We have a God-given vaccine to cure us from any despair, to inspire us to ever greater heights of religious fortitude.  That vaccine, you’ll remember, is Holy Communion, the frequent reception of the Body and Blood of Christ in his divine Eucharist. 

 

Apart from helping our faith and hope, Holy Communion is also a booster shot for our charity, our love of God and neighbor.  The importance of this holy charity can never be underestimated or overemphasized.  Charity is what our Lord described as the greatest of the commandments, and the one on which all the law and the prophets depend.  Yes, all the prophets.  Not the false prophets we’ve been talking about, the crazy gurus and the evil deceivers of this world, with their lies, their false teachings and Satanic ideals of moral self-indulgence, political upheaval, and religious suicide.  But the true prophets, men like Elijah, Daniel, and Isaiah.

 

In fact, it was one of the prophecies of Isaiah that we read just before the blessing of the Advent Wreath this morning: “The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light: they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined.”  It is one of the great beauties of the Church’s liturgy that it always seems to provide us with the right words of comfort just when we need them most.  These words of the eternal and divine worship remain, even though the evil men who now control Rome have done their best to suppress them.

 

Today, we seem to be walking in darkness as in the days of old.  And so we look for that same great light to shine upon us once again.  We look to the heavens.  And as our worldly sun and moon and stars fade before our very eyes, we gaze up like the astronomers of ancient times to behold a new light in the East.  Three of those astronomers, wise men all, decided to follow that Star of Bethlehem as it moved across the skies of Asia, shedding a new kind of light on the lands below.  As our world darkens around us on this grim November morning, we find ourselves once again welcoming the season of Advent.  The promise of a light that will shine upon the people that walk in darkness, a light that will illuminate this “land of the shadow of death.”  “For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given.”

 

At his presentation in the temple, this newborn Child would be held up by the old man Simeon in the temple.   And Simeon would prophesy that this Child was to be “a light, to lighten the Gentiles, and to be the glory of thy people Israel.”  That light is returning this Advent, moving inexorably across the heavens towards Bethlehem.  It has come to “lighten the Gentiles,” to lighten us.  The Christ Child is the Light of the World, and he comes not only to shine in our midst, to sweep away the darkness of the world in the glory of his brightness.  He comes also to kindle in us, in our own cold hearts, the fire of his love.   You see, it’s not enough to just follow the Star to Bethlehem.  When we arrive at the Christmas stable, we must kneel before our newborn King, and we must present to him the gift of our own soul, allowing the light of grace to shine from us also, making sure we follow this Child’s wishes by letting our light so shine before men that they should see our good works, and glorify their Father which is in heaven.  This is loving God above all things and our neighbor as ourselves.  This is charity. 

 

And so as people start putting up colored lights on their houses, as giant reindeer and snowman balloons appear on people’s lawns, and Christmas trees are lit in a multitude of squares and malls all over the land, let’s take all these Christmas lights and decorations for what they are—the reflection and reminder of the great light that will surely follow.  Let’s refocus on that Star of Bethlehem that is the window in the sky to the brightness of the heaven beyond.  Let’s follow that star to the Christ Child, taking a break from our constant self-indulgence.  Let’s prepare ourselves for his coming.  Let’s think of the needs of others rather than ourselves.  Let’s talk to God more, worshipping him, obeying his commandments, thanking him for all his blessings past, present and future.  And above all, let’s constantly remember what Christmas is all about, the coming of the Christ Child, and his eternal mission to enlighten the darkness of our minds by the grace of his visitation. 

THE PEOPLE WHO IN DARKNESS WALKED

A HYMN FOR ADVENT SUNDAY

By John Morrison, 1749-1798

 

1. The people who in darkness walked

have seen a glorious light;

on them broke forth the heavenly dawn

who dwelt in death and night.

 

2. To hail thy rising, Sun of life,

the gathering nations come,

joyous as when reapers bear

their harvest treasures home.

 

3. To us the promised Child is born,

to us the Son is given;

him shall the tribes of earth obey,

and all the hosts of heaven.

 

4. His name shall be the Prince of Peace

forevermore adored,

the Wonderful, the Counselor,

the Mighty God and Lord.

 

5. His power increasing still shall spread,

his reign no end shall know;

justice shall guard his throne above,

and peace abound below.

THE BLESSING OF THE ADVENT WREATH

 THE CEREMONY FOR ADVENT SUNDAY

“The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light: they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined.  For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor , The Mighty God, The Everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace” (Isaiah 9: 2 and 6).

 

The Priest then proceeds with the blessing of the Advent Wreath, saying first the following Versicle, at which all make the Sign of the Cross:

 

V. Our help ✠ is in the Name of the Lord.

R.  Who hath made heaven and earth.

 

V. The Lord be with you.

R.  And with thy spirit.

 

Let us pray.

O God, by whose word all things are sanctified, pour forth thy blessing ✠ upon this wreath, and grant that we who use it may prepare our hearts for the coming of Christ and may receive from Thee abundant graces.  Through Christ our Lord.

R.  Amen.

 

The Priest then incenses the Advent Wreath and sprinkles it with holy water.  He then offers  the Advent Wreath Prayer for the First Week of Advent:

 

Let us pray.

Stir up thy power, O Lord, we beseech thee, and come: that by thy protection we may deserve to be delivered from the threatening dangers of our sins and saved by Thy deliverance; who livest and reignest, world without end.

R.  Amen.

 

Then takes place the lighting of first Advent Candle, which should be one of the three purple ones.  By tradition, the youngest child present is given the honor of lighting the first Advent Candle.  The Priest then leads the congregation in the St. Andrews Christmas Novena prayer:

 

Hail and blessed be the hour and moment * in which the Son of God was born of the most pure Virgin Mary, * at midnight, in Bethlehem, in the piercing cold.  * In that hour, vouchsafe, O my God, * to hear my prayer and grant my desires, * through the merits of our Saviour, Jesus Christ, * and of his Blessed Mother.  Amen.

TAKE THE VACCINE!

 A SERMON FOR THE 25TH AND LAST SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

“And there shall be great tribulation, such as was not since the beginning of the world to this time, no, nor ever shall be.”  Here we are again in church this morning.  We’ve come here hoping for hope.  With our simple faith, we’ve come here looking for the peace of mind that we know comes from being in the presence of our blessed Lord.  We’ve come here, therefore, hoping that Father’s sermon will be a bit less depressing than those we’ve had the past few weeks.  And so, when we read through today’s Gospel about the abomination of desolation in the high places, the coming of the Antichrist, and the end of the world, we may be excused for giving a silent inward groan, and thinking, “Oh dear, here we go again.”  We’re disappointed perhaps, that instead of receiving words of hope this morning from our Lord, he gives us instead the sternest of warnings and signs of some rather awful things that are to come.  “This generation shall not pass away,” he declares, “till all these things be fulfilled.”  The sense of urgency, of foreboding that we are about to embark on a very difficult time, is prevalent everywhere we turn, and it seems inescapable.  There’s nowhere, it seems, where we can turn for comfort.  But is that true?  Let’s find out.

“There shall be great tribulation, such as was not since the beginning of the world to this time, no, nor ever shall be.”  What kind of tribulation will it be?  We are not told, but knowing the terrible sufferings of man’s history, and knowing that this will be far worse, it is not surprising that our imagination runs riot as we wonder how we shall abide it.  The only consolation is that our Lord tells us that “for the sake of the elect those days shall be shortened.”

Should we surprised by this unrelenting progress towards the inevitable?  Was it not foretold by our blessed Lady at Fatima?  Did not our Lady of La Salette weep openly at the horrors that were to unfold when Rome would become the seat of the Antichrist?  The third secret of Fatima is still a secret, but it is a secret so terrible that the Church has not dared to reveal it to the faithful.  Good priests like Fr. Malachi Martin who actually saw the original document on which the secret is written warn us that it is beyond the worst possibilities we’re capable of imagining.

We were told by St. Matthew in last Sunday’s Gospel that our Lord “spake in parables” and that “without a parable spake he not unto them.”  So let me speak to you today also in a parable, so that perhaps, we may find somewhere to turn for comfort, a way perhaps to think about how to deal with the difficulties we face.  I can’t make the difficulties go away.  God’s plan will not be thwarted, nor, I should remind you, do we even know the day or hour when it will be fulfilled.  All I can do is try and prepare you for the impact these things will have—if they happen at all—on our faith, our hope, and our love of God and neighbor.  And so, let the parable begin.

We’re in the process of going through a global pandemic.  Covid-19.  It’s been quite a ride, and it’s not over yet.  Whether it’s just a variation of the flu, or a biological weapon designed by the Deep State to subjugate the masses, this is not the time or place to figure out these things.  What’s ultimately relevant to us, psychologically, is that it’s not that much of a danger to the vast majority of people.  In California, with its population of over 40 million, I learned this week the number of people under the age of 18 who died of Covid.  That number is two.  Both of them had what they described as “severe, pre-existing co-morbidities.”  In other words, they weren’t too far from dying even before they caught the coronavirus.  The average survival rate today of Covid-19 is over 99 percent.  So your chances are good, even if you do catch it.

Now imagine that Covid-19 is just a practice run to see how effective it is.  Now for the real thing—Covid-21.  Imagine that instead of a 99 percent survival rate, it has a 99 percent fatality rate, brought about by a torturously painful death.  Can you possibly imagine what measures would be taken by the government to try and contain this new strain?  I’ll leave you to think about that.  But let’s say they come up with a vaccine that is totally effective against this deadly virus in our bloodstream.  This vaccine has no suspicious elements, it comes free of charge, there are no side effects whatsoever, and it has been proven beyond a doubt that it is perfectly ethical and moral to receive this vaccine.  The whole world would be clamoring to be vaccinated and thus escape the terrible alternative.

And now, I’m going to let you in on a little secret.  Covid-21 already exists.  The virus is already running through your bloodstream and mine, and it’s absolutely certain that it’s going to kill every single one of us.  And before you all run from the church screaming, following the Gospel’s advice to flee to the mountains, let me explain this parable to you.  Covid-21 has always existed.  It was created in a laboratory in the Middle East by a man-and-wife team whose appalling lack of self-discipline has resulted in the death of every person on this planet.  You see, the man’s name was Adam, and his wife was called Eve.  Single-handedly, they’ve caused the death of every single person since their original sin.  We who have survived this far are all under the sentence of death, thanks to them, and each of us in turn must face the same inevitable fate as all those who came before us.

But what about that vaccine?  Where does that play a role in this parable?  That vaccine, my friends, is the Precious Blood of our blessed Lord.  We’ve heard all the talk of platelets and antibodies that the doctors use to get rid of the coronavirus.  The Blood of Christ is the perfect antibody to the sins we have committed, the sins we dream of committing, and the sins to which we can’t seem to stop committing.  This Blood was spilled by our Lord to the very last drop on the Cross of Calvary.  It is the Blood of a God-Man, flowing inexhaustibly by means of the Sacrifice of the Mass, available to us constantly, daily, by means of the Sacrament of Holy Communion.  It won’t save us from physical death of course, but then, physical death isn’t the real problem.  Physical death is nothing to be afraid of, merely the doorway to perfect health.  You know what the Latin word for health is?  It’s salus.  And salus has two meanings in Latin.  It doesn’t just mean health.  It also means “Salvation.”  The reception of the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of our blessed Lord in Holy Communion restores our health and salvation.  It’s our vaccine that will surely prevent our eternal loss of that health and salvation, our spiritual death, one that is eternal, painful and beyond our worst nightmares.

You came here this morning looking for hope, for peace of mind.  I hope you will find it in this little parable.  No matter what the tribulations of this world may bring, you have the vaccine here in this church, available to you every week.  I hope this reminder will confirm you in your faith, and encourage you in your hope that we can all get through whatever the perils of this earth may put before us.  Don’t worry about them.  We have the vaccine!

So faith, check!  Hope, check!  But what about charity?  That’s where a very important question must surely now enter your minds: why isn’t the whole world clamoring for this vaccine?  Why isn’t this church filled to capacity, with thousands more outside on the street, lining up to come to the communion rail?  Here before you, or rather not before you, is the mystery of iniquity in all its awfulness.  The billions of souls who deliberately choose not to take the vaccine, to ignore the means of health and salvation provided for his children by our Father in heaven.  What can we do to help those billions of souls out of the darkness that most of them don’t even realize they’re living in?

Well, there’s only so much that can be said in one week, so I’m going to leave that thought with you until next Sunday.  For now, let’s just remember the words of our Lord, that we should “fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather, we should fear him which is able to destroy both soul and body in hell.”  Don’t worry about any Covid-21 bugs, don’t worry about who gets which electoral votes, don’t worry about anything that is capable of harming only your physical well-being.  Keep your guard up though, when the devil comes a-knocking at your door, no matter what disguise he may take.  This is the only real danger, when Satan comes to tempt our immortal soul.  Prepare for his attacks.  Take the vaccine!

ALL YE WHO SEEK A COMFORT SURE

 A HYMN FOR THE 25TH AND LAST SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

By Fr. Edward Caswall

 

1 All ye who seek a comfort sure

In sadness and distress,

Whatever sorrow burdens you,

Whatever griefs oppress:

When Jesus gave himself for us

And died upon the tree,

His heart was pierced for love of us;

He died to set us free.

 

2 Now hear him as he speaks to us

Those words for ever blest:

"All ye who labor, come to me,

And I will give you rest."

O heart adored by saints on high,

And hope of sinners here,

We place our ev'ry trust in you

And lift to you our prayer.

GRAINS OF MUSTARD SEED

 A SERMON FOR THE 24TH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Have you ever been plagued by those feelings of helplessness, the thought that no matter what we do, we’re powerless to change anything in the big scheme of things?  Not despair, necessarily, more of a sense of resignation that things are out of our control, so let’s just leave it to God to sort out.  If so, today’s Epistle and Gospel are for you!

You may be forgiven for not having being struck with inspiration during the reading of these lessons.  They’re written in the style of that particular time, and can be a little obscure.  But as St. Matthew explains, our Lord was speaking in parables, “and without a parable spake he not unto them.”  Our Lord prefers that the truth is not so obvious that it would be impossible to dispute.  Faith must play a part, and so the truth doesn’t usually just whack us in the head with a sudden illumination.  Our Lord wants us to ponder over his words, meditate on them so that only with our effort accompanied by a leap of faith, we may come to a deeper understanding of what he means.

Not so the unbelievers.  They will not take that effort to think about what God really means when he says something.  They glance over the words and take them at face value for something they don’t mean at all.  They certainly aren’t prepared to make the necessary leap of faith.  The problem is that people believe what they want to believe.  Many people, even those who profess to be devout Christians, just read the Bible and interpret its words to mean what they want it to mean.  The only time they bother thinking any deeper is when the words obviously mean something they don’t believe, such as when our Lord tells them in no uncertain terms that his Body is the Bread of Life, and that if they do not eat it they will not go to heaven.  He even tells them he is not speaking in parables on this occasion.  But that doesn’t fit in with the Protestant denial of the Real Presence in the Holy Eucharist, and so they have to think hard to figure out how our Lord does not mean what he’s saying.

But to get back to those feelings of helplessness you might be experiencing these days, or indeed at any other time of your life, let’s take a look at that grain of mustard seed, what our Lord calls “the least of all seeds.”  We can apply this to ourselves, and if we look what happens to that grain of mustard seed, it should give us great hope.  For when it is grown, says our Lord, “it is the greatest among herbs, and becometh a tree, so that the birds of the air come and lodge in the branches thereof.”

Take as an example a saint like Francis of Assisi.  He approached the world with the idea of getting people to give away all their possessions and live a life of poverty and austerity, begging for every meal, and doing nothing else but pray and preach.  As ideas go, that one doesn’t sound like a winner, does it?  And yet it took off, and soon, this poor man of Assisi found himself the leader of a huge movement, one of the largest religious orders in the world, even today.  Truly a grain of mustard seed.

You can think of many others like him.  The Twelve Apostles, fishermen, tax collectors, not a very impressive group of men, on the face of it.  And yet they preached to the four corners of the known world, and set the scene for the conversion of all men to the truth of the Gospels. 

Yes, you may say, but the Twelve Apostles received the Holy Ghost at Pentecost, St. Francis was a holy man.  Who am I that I should compare myself to them?  You are who you are.  Like them, you’re basically a nobody.  But a nobody who has the potential to become somebody.  Holiness is not something that is miraculously dropped from heaven on a few chosen people.  It’s something that we have to work at, so that we may save not only our own souls but do as much spiritual—and natural—good as we can here on this earth, and for as long as we can.  There is nothing to stop any one of us becoming a saint.  Nothing to stop us from taking the truths we have learned and that we know, and spreading these truths first to our own children, and then far and wide to all we come in contact with.  We must use the tools of kindness, tolerance, a gentle persuasion, good example—all these methods and more to bring Truth to those who wander this world in ignorance of it.

St. Paul reinforces this idea in today’s Epistle to the Thessalonians.  He pushes them to continue their “work of faith, and labour of love, and patience of hope.”  He reminds them, and us, that “our Gospel came not unto you in word only, but also in power, and in the Holy Ghost.”  If St. Francis had the power to start a great and holy cause, so do we.  If the Apostles received the Holy Ghost at Pentecost, so do we at the sacrament of Confirmation.  Use these powers and don’t let them remain dormant, asleep within you.  They are seeds, like the mustard seed, that must be allowed to grow and become something great.  We are not powerless, merely forgetful sometimes of the power that lies within us.

As I mentioned last week, bad times produce strong men.  This is not the time to simply resign ourselves to whatever the future holds.  If the future brings attacks on our freedoms, on our civil rights, on our Constitution, then we must be prepared to fight, as Americans have always fought for these rights in our past.  And if the attacks are on our faith, our right to worship God as he has commanded us, then we must fight to the death if necessary.  Right now, we’re in a period of limbo, praying that recounts and lawsuits will somehow bring about a fair and just conclusion to the travesty of an election we’ve just endured.  But our response during what may be a long and protracted struggle must not be to shrug our shoulders and merely “hope for the best.”  We must pray fervently.  Right now, this is what we are called upon to do, and really, all we can do.  So let’s do it!  Let’s pray with hope, with trust in Divine Providence, and with a total confidence that God’s plan for the world will be fulfilled, that his will be done!  Only then can we sit back with the satisfaction of knowing that we played our part, that we did our duty.

For now, it is our prayers that are those little mustard seeds.  So without further ado, let’s go plant them!

THY KINGDOM COME! ON BENDED KNEE

 A HYMN FOR THE 24TH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

By Frederick L. Hosmer, 1891

1 Thy kingdom come! On bended knee

the passing ages pray;

and faithful souls have yearned to see

on earth that kingdom's day.

 

2 But the slow watches of the night

not less to God belong;

and for the everlasting right

the silent stars are strong.

 

3 And lo, already on the hills

the flags of dawn appear;

gird up your loins, ye prophet souls,

proclaim the day is near:

 

4 The day in whose clear-shining light

all wrong shall stand revealed,

when justice shall be throned in might,

and every hurt be healed;

 

5  When knowledge, hand in hand with peace,

shall walk the earth abroad:

the day of perfect righteousness,

the promised day of God.

CULTIVATING THE CHURCH GARDEN

 A REFLECTION FOR THE 24TH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Today’s Gospel about mustard seeds makes me think about the garden my parents used to work at so tirelessly throughout the year.  They didn’t grow mustard, mind you, but we had a garden in the front of the house where my father cultivated his roses, helped along with some natural but very unpleasant fertilizer that he made me pick up with my little wheelbarrow every time a horse and cart went past.  Meanwhile, in the other garden behind our home, there was a greenhouse filled with tomatoes and other edible things that made their way to my mother’s salads and into her homemade wine.

 

Many of us will probably have similar memories of our parents and the care they took to grow flowers, plants, fruit and vegetables.  It was one of those “nice” things they did, and we remember them with fondness.  But the attention they paid to gardening was nothing compared with the careful and continual devotion they gave to the raising of their children—us.

 

We were their little mustard seeds, and they watched us grow from “the least of all seeds” into what they hoped would be the “greatest among herbs.”  And how did that work out?  Have we grown up and fulfilled their ambitions for us?  Have we truly become something they would be proud of?  We’re a work in process, so let’s not give up on becoming what they hoped we would be.  As we become adults we must take over the cultivation of our souls by practicing the values and virtues they instilled in us, by maintaining the faith they taught us.  And then we must pass on the same faith and values to our own children, raising our own little mustard seeds in our turn.

 

This is our gravest duty as parents.  We have a natural instinct to protect our children from harm, but this instinct must be reinforced and surpassed by a supernatural impulse to protect them from the devil, the world, and their own fallen nature.  Our own experience of life tells us that there is no way they are going to escape the assaults of all three.  Our battle will be their battle and our victories must become their victories.  But with the help of God, we must protect them from repeating our failures.  If we have not lived up to our parents’ dreams, we must at least do our utmost to make sure their grandchildren do better.

 

Teach the catechism, prepare them diligently for their First Communion and for their Confirmation.  Teach them the Bible stories we learned at the feet of our own mother, pass on the Catholic customs and traditions to the next generation so that they may continue to pass them on long after we are gone.  This is the Church’s garden, so let’s not allow it to become overgrown with weeds and thistles.

STAND FAST IN THE LORD

 A SERMON FOR THE 23RD SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

We’ve had a rather disappointing week, I think, and many of us are feeling despondent after all the ups and downs.  Things are still rather uncertain, but one thing is clear—there is an enormous number of people in this once great nation who have, wittingly or unwittingly, placed themselves firmly on the side of the children of darkness and enemies of God.  “Many walk,” says St. Paul in today’s Epistle, “of whom I have told you often, and now tell you even weeping, that they are the enemies of the cross of Christ.”  For that we should grieve.  And for them, we should pray. 

As for ourselves, we must take heart and prepare ourselves for troublesome times to come.  In doing so, we should not give in to feelings of despair or of fear.  In his Epistle to the faithful of Philippi, St. Paul describes the deep contrast between these enemies of the cross of Christ and ourselves as followers of Christ.  “Our conversation,” he reminds them, “is in heaven; from whence also we look for the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ.”  Today, even more than before the election, we must turn to our Lord, confident that he will indeed be our Saviour, that he will save us from whatever lies ahead.  Our conversation must be in heaven, not in frantic texts and emails and YouTube watching, but in heaven.  We must not trust in men, but in God, and converse with him alone.  For it is he alone who can draw good out of evil, and we must have every confidence that he will do so.  It is a fact that he always does.

We have had good times and bad times throughout our history.  But let’s remember that good times produce weak men.  Bad times, on the other hand, produce strong men.  It has been a while since we have had truly bad times.  The attacks of 9/11 turned out to be a single event, but they were still not “bad times.”  We need to go back to Pearl Harbor and the terrible World War that followed.  Sons and husbands, fathers and brothers, put on their uniforms and left their homes, many never to return.  Those who stayed home lived in constant fear of that knock at the door, the dreaded telegram from the War Department telling them of unbelievably terrible news.  These were the great generation, who courageously fought and suffered and sacrificed for this nation.  Since then, we were reduced to weakness, subjecting ourselves to mind-destroying rock music as we puffed away at our funny cigarettes, experimenting with ever more depraved forms of immorality.  Worse yet, the hippies of the 1960s grew up, and raised children, the Millennials, who now join their decadent parents to form a majority in this once great country.  The time has come to reap what has been sown.

The results have always been inevitable.  As our Lord reminds us, “a corrupt tree cannot bring forth good fruit.”  From now on, it’s time to start planting good seeds.  We must begin by summoning up all our dormant strengths and use them in the defense of all that is good, all that is true, all that is important for our own salvation and that of our families.  This is a time of renewal.  If we now sow in tears, we will eventually reap with shouts of joy.  And so “therefore, my brethren,” as St. Paul writes today, “my dearly beloved and longed for, my joy and crown, so stand fast in the Lord, my dearly beloved.” 

The rising up of good, strong men and women is but one of the ways that God will draw good out of this evil.   You will see many, many more examples, and we must always be on the lookout, for they will provide inspiration in our endeavors, and consolation in our distress.  See those hidden and unexpected wonders and miracles of grace that will be showered by God upon all who place their trust and hope in him—conversion of family members, an increase in virtue in Christians everywhere, perhaps a growing realization of the dangers of Biden’s atheistic socialism, a greater awareness of the value of an unborn child’s life, a growing patriotic fervor and realization of the need for Almighty God in the life of the nation.  All these things and more like them must be our new aspirations and the intentions for which we now pray, and for which we now live.

Meanwhile, the Gospel summarizes our plight.  “Behold, there came a certain ruler”—let’s call him Donald Trump.  “And he worshipped our Lord, saying, “My daughter,”—my country—“is even now dead: but come and lay thy hand upon her, and she shall live.  And our Lord replies, “The maid is not dead, but sleepeth.  And they”—the Democrats and children of darkness—" laughed him to scorn.  But when the people were put forth, he went in, and took her by the hand, and the maid arose!” 

SOLDIERS OF CHRIST, ARISE!

 A HYMN FOR THE 23RD SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

By Charles Wesley, 1749

1 Soldiers of Christ, arise,

and put your armor on,

strong in the strength which God supplies

thro' his eternal Son.

Strong in the Lord of hosts,

and in his mighty pow'r,

who in the strength of Jesus trusts

is more than conqueror.

 

2 Stand then in his great might,

with all his strength endued;

but take, to arm you for the fight,

the panoply of God.

Leave no unguarded place,

no weakness of the soul;

take ev'ry virtue, ev'ry grace,

and fortify the whole.

 

3 To keep your armor bright,

attend with constant care;

still walking in your Captain's sight,

and watching unto prayer.

From strength to strength go on;

wrestle and fight and pray;

tread all the pow'rs of darkness down,

and win the well-fought day.

BLESSED ARE YE!

 A REFLECTION FOR THE OCTAVE DAY OF ALL SAINTS

Today is the Octave Day of All Saints, ending our weeklong celebration of all the angels and saints of heaven who are enjoying their eternal glory and praying for us poor souls who yet endure our great struggle to join them.

 

In the Gospel for All Saints, our blessed Lord lists the ways by which they succeeded in achieving holiness.  This list is not meant as a mere description of what they did, but as a reference for us to use, so that, by following in their steps, we may eventually join them in their reward.

 

If we want to be members one day of the Church Triumphant, it is necessary that we first triumph over our sins and imperfections.  How do we do this?  By taking the time to read through that list of the Beatitudes.  You’ll find them in your Missal, the Gospel of November 1, All Saints Day.  Don’t just casually read them, but pause at each one until you understand what it means and what you must do to improve your fulfillment of its requirements.

 

Take the first one for example, “Blessed are the poor in spirit”.  What does it mean, to be “poor in spirit?”  We may see poverty as a bad thing, something to be avoided.  No one wants to be poor.  But to be poor in spirit is something our Lord recommends in this first Beatitude.  Not that our spirit should be impoverished, but that we should long in spirit for a particular type of poverty, that which takes but little account of material things, which has no love of riches and money.  This is what it means to be poor in spirit, and when we have this approach to the material things of this world, our Lord promises us that we shall receive his blessing.  “Blessed are ye!”

 

That was the first of the Beatitudes.  The last one is perhaps more pertinent to the events of the past week and the future they portend.  “Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake.”  The time of persecution has certainly begun, and will no doubt persist and intensify.  There is always the temptation to resist persecution by means of a kind of “counter-hatred” accompanied by our own fantasies and then real acts of violence.  Beware this temptation!  Such acts would be used by God’s enemies as a pretext for unleashing an even more terrifying retaliation.  Their hatred will surely spill over into bloodshed.  “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.”  Don’t give in to the temptation to meet their hatred with yours.  Follow the example of our Lord and “forgive them, for they know not what they do.”  At no time has there been a greater need for our good example of strong and virile meekness.  This is not a contradiction!  It will take fortitude and perseverance to maintain such charity, but if you do, “Blessed are ye!”

THE FOUR WINDS OF THE EARTH

 A SERMON FOR ALL SAINTS DAY

Whenever our Mass readings are taken from the Book of the Apocalypse, we always seem to feel a chill of foreboding.  Actually, it is a happy book, filled with the promises of the good things to come after the world ends and we find ourselves amongst the blessed in heaven, giving worship to God, happy forever.  But despite this promise we remain fully aware that the world has not yet ended, and that, before we arrive at this final blessed state, we must first endure a number of rather less pleasant events.  And it is these events that fill us with dread.  Because for us to get to that happy state after the world ends, the world must end.

The same thing happens to us all as individuals.  Every one of us must first die before we can enjoy heaven.  We look forward to heaven, but we dread that final step we have to take in order to get there.  So too with the world itself. 

St. John the Apostle, in writing his apocalyptic vision of the world’s end, describes four angels standing on the four corners of the earth, holding the four winds of the earth, that the wind should not blow on the earth, nor on the sea, nor on any tree.  Here is the scene in heaven, even as we sit here in this church on this Sunday morning on the first day of November.  Four angels are all that stand between us and the final end of man.  Four angels who, fortunately for us, obey another angel sent to them by God.  As this angel cries out with a loud voice to the four angels, to whom it was given to hurt the earth and the sea, he orders them to “Hurt not the earth, neither the sea, nor the trees, till we have sealed the servants of our God in their foreheads.”   

God is waiting.  Waiting patiently until this final step takes place when his servants are sealed in their foreheads.  These are mystical words.  Not meant to be taken literally perhaps.  But one day, when it happens, we’ll know finally what this prophecy means, and that it has been fulfilled.  Until then, we should ponder upon these words, and ask ourselves what they mean.  Watch the world events, and try to find some correlation between what is happening around us, and this prophecy of the end of time.

First of all, who are God’s servants in this prophecy?  St. John lists them, one by one.  Literally speaking, they are none other than the twelve tribes of Israel.  From each of these twelve tribes, twelve thousand shall be sealed.  The Jehovah’s Witnesses interpret this quite literally, believing that exactly 144,000 shall save their souls.  The other billions of humans simply won’t make it.  But like all prophecies, this one too is shrouded in mystery so that we cannot know exactly what it means until it happens.  Then those men who are of good will can make the connection and understand what they must do.  So let’s be aware of this prophecy, particularly in these increasingly uneasy times we live in.

We have been protected so far by four angels.  Protected from the winds that would otherwise blow from the north, the south, the east and the west.  What are these winds, if not the winds of change?  Not all change is a bad thing—there’s always room for improvement.  We should always be trying to do better as individuals, obeying God’s laws more closely.  As a nation too, our duty is to constantly improve our civil laws so that they more closely reflect the commandments of our Creator.  I hope that our new Supreme Court Justice will help this country to remain on, or return to, that path toward God. 

But the winds of change are already blowing.  We can fill the chill in our bones as the four angels seem to be relaxing their grip on those winds.  Calls to change the very fabric of civilization are being made everywhere we look by progressives who want nothing but change for the sake of change. 

There are four winds.  The first wind blows against the Church.  The God-given Holy Mass of Christ and his Apostles?  Let’s change it!  The Rosary?  Let’s change it!  The Our Father?  Let’s change it!  And why should the natural not follow the spiritual?  The second wind blows against the Nation.  Abolish free speech, abolish the right to bear arms, tear down the border with Mexico, open the prisons, allow looting and rioting in the streets.  The third wind blows against nature, as people invent their own corrupt version of what God created.  They imagine they can overturn the laws of nature by inventing other genders than male and female, by claiming that homosexuality is natural, or that it’s a natural thing for a mother to want to murder her own baby.  And the fourth and final wind, where does that blow?  That, my friends, blows in our very heart and soul.  It seeks to blow away any attachments we may have to God, to the Ten Commandments, to virtue.  It seeks to sweep out of us all love of faith, family, our nation and the institutions and society it provides, our flag, our Constitution, our hallowed traditions and history.  Beware this fourth wind.  It blows along with each of the other three to form a perfect storm destroying all in its path.

They have names, these four winds.  Four institutions of our society that form an unholy alliance to bring about their destruction.  In no particular order the four institutions are Education, Media, Church, and Government.

The Education of our children ensures how they will think when they become adults and take their place in society.  A brief glance at the evils being taught in our schools and universities will confirm which way this is going.  Under the heading of Media, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see the open bias of the news organizations, of Hollywood and TV, and of social media like Facebook, Google and Twitter.  They mention nothing that isn’t part of their agenda to pervert our society and our souls, re-forming them into their own image and likeness and not God’s.  By Church, I mean the Conciliar Church.  We’re actually better off, God help us, listening to hardcore Evangelical Protestants these days than to the so-called pope with his globalist and socialist anti-Christian agenda.  The last of the four winds is Government.  Politics.  The progressives have succeeded in infiltrating and controlling totally one of the two political parties, as well as the silent but powerful bureaucracy that turns the wheels of government behind the scenes.  Republicans are not far behind.  The analogy of a swamp is well chosen.  All it takes is for the Democrats to gain total control of our government, and the last bastions of godliness in our civilization will surely vanish beneath its muddy and infested waters.

On Tuesday, if we haven’t done so already, we are called upon to exercise our civic duty by voting.  We are told that this election is the most important, the most momentous and consequential election ever held.  We’ve been told that in every single presidential election I can remember.  It’s in the interest of both parties and of the news media to hype things up.  The politicians want your votes  and the networks want your ratings.  But if we look past the hype, I think we actually can see for ourselves that this election goes way beyond the usual political carrying-on.  The choice we are being given, for once, is not between two merely political opinions of how best to run the government.  If it were, this pulpit would not be the appropriate place to be speaking about it.  But it has become quite clear that our choice this time around is more fundamental in its nature, and definitely more far-reaching in its consequences. 

We are faced with the most basic choice of all.  Good versus evil.  I can’t put it any more plainly.  We know which is which, and what our duty is.  To stay home and not vote is not an option.  Our Lord has said that if we are neither hot nor cold, if we can’t decide whether to choose good or evil, he will vomit us out of his mouth.  There’s no room for the indecisive when it comes to choosing between good or evil.  Choices must be made, and our conscience cannot sit on the fence on this one!

Is it the end of the world if Joe Biden wins the election?  Well, it’s not for us to know the time nor the hour, and many things are prophesied to take place before the actual end.  But know ye this… one day the world will surely end, and the outcome of this week’s election will either make it happen sooner or will postpone the inevitable for a little time longer.  As individuals it’s our job to place our minuscule little vote in such a way as to influence the outcome as best we can.  But the winds of change are ready to be unleashed, and Tuesday is perhaps our last chance to stop them.

May the great army of all the angels and saints in heaven fight on our side as we vote against the forces of darkness.