Books from January 2019

Last year, I decided I needed to fight back against what the internet has done to me and read more books. I’ve never stopped reading but there has been a noticeable drop off that I attribute to a shortened attention span - and I think I’m safe in putting the blame on social media.

My resolution to focus on reading worked last year. I read about twice as much as the year before and I aim to continue that course.

Anyway, here is what I read in this first month of 2019.

Turn Right At Machu Picchu by Mark Adams

Part history of the “discovery” of Machu Picchu, part memoir of an expedition following that same path, this is a great story. I visited Peru (specifically our sister-diocese of Cuzco) in 2010 when I was a deacon and that trip has really stayed with me. Machu Picchu is an incredible place. Reading this tale of what the place was, how it was found, and what it means today put me right back in that moment. I would recommend this if you enjoy history and stories of exploration and adventure.

The Collapsing Empire / The Consuming Fire by John Scalzi

When I read Scalzi’s earlier novel, Old Man’s War, I enjoyed the humor and the engrossing world-building. This new trilogy (the third book is not out yet) did not disappoint. It tells the story of a galactic civilization that finds itself on the brink of a sort of apocalypse and we see, through the eyes of individual characters, what humanity might do in such a situation. Just a warning: Scalzi is not writing from a Catholic perspective and that includes sexuality. It’s a minor part of the story, but it’s there. Overall, a really fun and intriguing book.

Fire Season by Philip Connors

The story of a man who spent a big chunk of the year, for several years, living alone on a mountaintop watching out for forest fires. He shares lots of the day to day experiences as well as the history and philosophy of firefighting and how it has changed. The most interesting aspect of the book, though, is how a person deals with that kind of solitude. While Connors does not necessarily see himself as a religious person, he clearly has some close-to-religious experiences living alone in such close proximity to the glory of God’s creation.

In Sinu Jesu by A Benedictine Monk

This book is the journal of an anonymous Benedictine monk who reportedly began hearing messages from Jesus and Mary in 2007. Just that premise would make this something I typically wouldn’t be interested in reading … BUT, it turns out that I would be missing out. This book can be life-changing, particularly for priests. It calls us to an intimate friendship with Jesus - something that is easy to take for granted. I sincerely and wholeheartedly recommend it to any priest. It’s not a page-turner - it’s more something that can slowly bear fruit through slow meditation. Again, I highly suggest this for you if you are a priest.

4th Sunday of Advent

Last year, when we came to the fourth week of Advent, we only had from Saturday evening to Sunday evening before it was time for the Christmas Eve masses. This time we get a little longer - about two days. It’s still not much time, but after several weeks of preparing ourselves for the coming of Christmas, I’m sure we’re all looking forward to getting to the actual celebration.

I think it would be worthwhile to spend this bit of Advent just being quiet and taking it all in - and there is no one better to teach us about this than Mary.

Mary is intimately tied into the story of Christmas and the whole story of Jesus. She was the first one to experience an Advent. She knew, for nine months, that the savior of the world was going to come. While all the Jewish people were expecting a Messiah, she was the first to be certain of when He was going to come.

She spent the time between the Annunciation and Christmas in a powerful intimacy with God.

Mary holds such an important role for us because she was so important for her son. His humanity came from Mary. She gave Him every cell that would make up His body. The same body that would be nailed to the cross. She shared her very life with Him in a way only a mother can.

Because of all this, she is a powerful guide for us. She can take us into the deepest meaning of the Incarnation, of Christmas. Mary represents all of Israel and then all of the Church - really, all of humanity - giving a resounding YES to God coming to be with us.

That is something worth honoring and imitating.

When Mary came to Elizabeth, as we just heard, Elizabeth praises her - even though Elizabeth is the older of the two and is married to a priest while Mary is younger and married to an unknown carpenter. Through the Holy Spirit, Elizabeth knew that the most blessed of all women was standing before her. And that the baby she was carrying, one that no one but Mary would know about, was somehow the Lord.

And what makes Mary blessed? She believed that what was spoken to her by the Lord would be fulfilled.

She believed.

Let us have that same faith. God wants to come to us and change our lives. He wants to save us and transform us. He is already here. He is giving Himself to you right now. Let Him in. Say yes, like Mary.

By following her example of faith and trust, we can truly be ready to celebrate Christmas.

27th Sunday in Ordinary Time

We could approach today’s readings with the same attitude as the Pharisees in the reading we just heard.

They asked Jesus a question about divorce - a question designed to trip Him up so they could accuse Him of rejecting the law of Moses. We could take Jesus’ response as a simple “no” and move on with our lives.

However, this reading means so much more. It’s not simply about a rule; it takes us back to the very beginning of humanity and to the deepest meaning of who we are as people created by God.

What I want to briefly talk about in this homily is something St. John Paul II spent 129 of his Wednesday General audiences speaking about during the first 5 years he was pope. This teaching has become known as the Theology of the Body. What we heard Jesus say today is the starting point for a powerful examination of human love and sexuality, and what it means for us.

So, let’s look at Jesus’ answer to the Pharisees question. It is like many of his responses to their attempts at trapping him - it goes deeper than they ever intended.

They ask Jesus, “Is it lawful for a husband to divorce his wife?” After asking them what Moses, the great prophet and lawgiver, said about it - He allowed it - Jesus does something interesting. He goes back to humanity’s original state before sin:

Because of the hardness of your hearts he wrote you this commandment. But from the beginning of creation, God made them male and female. For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh. So they are no longer two but one flesh. Therefore what God has joined together, no human being must separate.

“… from the beginning of creation …”

What Jesus wants us to see is that God had something in mind when He created us. Yes, we can’t escape the fact that the only world we’ve known is one with sin - where none of us are perfect and we experience separation from God and others, and even from ourselves; but that wasn’t the original plan.

Look at our first reading from that part of the book of Genesis. God says of Adam, “It is not good for the man to be alone.” So much powerful truth is packed into that one sentence. Adam is living in paradise. He is in a relationship with God; he lives in harmony with the world around him; but something isn’t yet complete. He is somehow still alone.

That tells us that we are made for communion.

This need to not be alone, to be with another, comes from our Creator. The Bible tells us that God created mankind “in his image.” We reflect the relationship of persons that exists in the Holy Trinity. The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are forever giving themselves in love. We are made with a desire for that same kind of love.

Because “it is not good for the man to be alone,” God created the woman - and as soon as Adam and Eve see each other, they know that they were made for each other. We say that phrase a lot, meaning that two people are “soulmates” or something, but in this case it is actually true.

The first man and first woman see in each other what they would miss on their own. They are meant to live a life of self-giving love, just like God does, and so reveal God through their love. Humanity reveals the very nature of God through our relationships.

From our perspective, we could look at this and say, “They don’t know what relationships are really like. Jesus is being naive or idealistic.” Far from it.

That first human couple and that first marriage was free from the problems that we face now. Without sin they were completely selfless. Their bodies reflected their souls, and so they could look at each other without shame, possesiveness, or lust. All they saw was the one they freely chose to love. That is why Jesus - and the Church - comes down against divorce: it’s not part of the plan.

Where does that leave us? Divorce exists. Lust and infidelity exist.

Like the Pharisees, we are being called back to our original state. We can’t change the mistakes we’ve made or undo the wounds given to us by others, but we can choose to live a life of self-giving love.

Those of you who are married can recommit yourselves to the vows you made on your wedding day. Ask God for help in being patient and forgiving. Don’t be afraid to ask for forgiveness when it’s necessary. Your marriage is an icon of the Trinity. Let it be seen.

Single people can give of themselves as well - serving the poor, helping family and friends, laying down their lives for others.

All of us can reject sins that lead us away from real love; things like: pornography, masturbation, and lust.

What St. John Paul II pointed out in these readings is not unrealistic. It looks at the world, and our relationships, the way that God does. With His help, we can love like Him.


For a very short summary of St. John Paul II’s Theology of the Body, check out Theology of the Body In One Hour by Jason Evert.

25th Sunday in Ordinary Time

“‘The Son of Man is to be handed over to men

and they will kill him,

and three days after his death the Son of Man will rise.’

But they did not understand the saying,

and they were afraid to question him.”

I don’t think we can blame the disciples for their reaction. How would you or I react to someone we follow and admire saying something to us that is this shocking. Jesus is prophesying something that would completely upend the lives of His disciples and they just don’t know how to respond.

Looking back, we can see that Jesus’ passion, death, and resurrection did not come out of nowhere. Passages in the Old Testament, such as the one from our first reading today and last week, foretold that the Messiah would allow Himself to be handed over to those who would harm Him. He would surrender Himself to death and God would raise Him up.

It’s one thing read about those prophecies - it’s completely different when your friend and master makes the prediction about Himself. So, the disciples sort of just keep quiet and continue on the journey.

How could it be possible that the one who was meant to be God’s chosen one would die? He is meant to be powerful, to right what is wrong and deliver the chosen people - not suffer death. Even the idea of rising from the dead wouldn’t seem like much of a consolation. That’s something that could only be appreciated when they had witnessed that it was real.

And so, as they finished the journey to Capernaum, they began speaking about which one of them was the greatest. Jesus must have been walking on His own because the disciples think he didn’t hear the conversation.

Jesus’ response to their thoughts of power and prestige also teach us about his suffering and death: “If anyone wishes to be first, he shall be the last of all and the servant of all.”

The word that is used for servant here is the same Greek root that we use for the word “deacon.” Think about the origin of the diaconate. The apostles spent their time preaching the Gospel; it was the job of the deacons to humbly serve - especially to serve the poor, widows, and orphans.

Jesus came to serve the poor as well - us. We are sinful and often separate ourselves from God by putting ourselves first. We can’t overcome our sinfulness on our own, so Jesus took all that upon Himself and went to the cross.

As Christians who, through our baptisms, are joined to that sacrifice, we are called to live that kind of life. It should be our aim to be people of humble service, people who will sacrifice our comfort for the sake of someone else, to receive people with love even when there is no benefit to us.

Jesus uses the example of a child - someone who doesn’t have money or power. Someone who needs to be taken care of. That is who we are to the Lord. He gives us everything purely as a gift. Now He calls us to have hearts like His - not to be constantly looking for whatever will get us ahead, but to lay everything down.

To live a life on the cross.

20th Sunday in Ordinary Time: Scandal and Sacrifice

One of the interesting things about preaching as a priest is that you are very rarely picking what you preach about. Apart from weddings and funerals, the readings for each Mass are the same around the world. Everyone is hearing the same things and then whoever is preaching must do their best to explain and apply the readings to our actual lives.

As I said weeks ago, we have the whole month of August to look at chapter 6 of the Gospel of John - the Bread of Life discourse; but sometimes things come up in our own lives and the life of the Church that deserve to be addressed, even when they don't tie directly into the scheduled readings.

I think I can assume that almost everyone has seen the news this week coming out of Pennsylvania. A grand jury investigation has not only uncovered an overwhelming record of children being abused by priests but also those incidents being covered up and ignored by authorities in the Church. While it's true that this report covers a period reaching back over 50 years and many of the clergy accused in it have long since died, but it is horrifying anyway.

Even more sadly, this isn't the first time we've seen news like this.

When something like this comes out, it can be very difficult for those of us who are Catholic to know how to feel. This is the Church many of us have grown up in, given time to, and often defended against criticism. As a priest, I find myself feeling a lot of things: anger, frustration, betrayal, embarrassment.

Even though these most recent events took place in another state and other dioceses, they touch all of us because we are all members of this Church. For you, it could put you in a situation of explaining why you would choose to belong to a group that would behave this way. For me, I could be lumped in with men who have done terrible things just because I wear clerics in public.

It is a terrible scandal - one that could discourage people from becoming Catholic; that might confirm the awful things someone already believed about the Church; or even cause a Catholic to leave the Church or lose their faith. Scandals like this hurt the credibility of the Church, especially its leaders, and our ability to proclaim the Gospel to the world.

And that is beside the fact that some of God's sons and daughters were abused by men they should have been able to trust with their lives - and many were ignored when they asked for help. Who could blame them if they left the faith and hated the Church?

What are we to do then, give up?

If we believe in what the Catholic Church is at its roots, then we don't have that option. To be a Catholic means to believe that Jesus founded this Church. He sent His disciples into the world to proclaim, to baptize, and to build up this family, the Body of Christ. He gave Himself on the cross, rose from the dead, and promised that He would be with us until the very end.

The Church must continue proclaiming the Gospel, celebrating the sacraments, and making Jesus known - that is our purpose.

I have three suggestions for you in the face of terrible news like we've heard this week:

Our first reaction as Christians is always prayer. That includes our own personal prayer but also begging for God's mercy in this situation. We must ask God to console and heal those who have been hurt as well as asking Him to purify the Church, that our desire would not be to protect ourselves but to sacrifice and to serve. Prayer must be our first reaction because God is the only solution to this problem.

Second, we must remember our history. Many times in our history, the Church has faced terrible things. Catholics were persecuted by the Romans, in the French Revolution, by the Nazis. We've faced heresies where the majority of bishops abandoned the faith. The Church is still here because the imperfect people who make it up aren't the whole story. Our foundation is Jesus Christ and He never changes.

I'm not saying this to lessen the seriousness of what we face or to belittle what people have suffered at the hands of those who were supposed to be good shepherds to them. We have faced dark times before - and in these dark times, we should remember who started this thing: not us, but God Himself.

Finally, we must make holiness the priority of our lives. That goes for all of us - being a priest or a bishop doesn't automatically make you a holy person. Holiness means being united with God and that is the true end of everything we do. Let's make a new start in seeking that end with everything we have.

That means being people of prayer and service. It means being people of compassion. Compassion literally means "to suffer with" - and we must be ready to stand with those who have suffered.

This is an extraordinarily challenging time for us as Catholics - but it is not the end. Terrible moments like this call us to live out our faith in a more radical way. To quote something I read today: "The Church does not belong to any cardinal or priest, present or former, or anyone else. The Church is Christ’s body, and it is for Him we stay."

Let us embrace Christ, especially as He gives Himself to us in the Eucharist. Let us show the world that the Church is not the nightmare they saw in that grand jury report - it is the Body of Christ, offering love, compassion, and healing to anyone who needs it. 

17th Sunday of Ordinary Time: John 6 - Part 1

Today we start a sort of Gospel marathon. This happens every few years, as the Church goes through the cycle of Sunday readings: we take a break from the Gospel of Mark and spend 5 weeks on one chapter from the Gospel of John.

Why do this? Why focus so much on this one section of John? Well, what we'll be looking at until the end of August is John, chapter 6 where Jesus speaks to us about the Bread of Life. This is one of the most important parts of the New Testament when it comes to understanding the Eucharist.

We start today with the multiplication of those loaves of bread and fish; then we'll hear Jesus identify Himself as the bread of life and tell the crowds that to have eternal life, they must eat His flesh and drink His blood; and finally, we will see many of his followers leave Him because of this teaching.

John 6 is such an important thing for us to hear and spend time understanding because it opens up for us the mystery of the Eucharist. So, brace yourselves. This is a challenging thing to listen to for a whole month - it's also challenging to preach on it for that long; but it is so important.

The Lord wants to speak to you about His gift of the Eucharist.


Now that we can see where we will be going, let's look briefly at the miracle that takes place in today's reading.

There is a hungry crowd and Jesus somehow provides food for them out of the small amount offered by the boy. In fact, when everyone has eaten, they have more bread - twelves baskets of bread fragments - than when they started.

It's a miracle. Jesus did something that would be impossible for any ordinary person and this sign is full of meaning. It would remind people that through Moses, God fed His people miraculous bread in the desert. That's why the people say "This is truly the Prophet" - they see Jesus as Moses' successor, the great prophet promised by God hundreds of years before.

They might have also remembered the story from our first reading. Elisha, the prophet, took 20 barley loaves and fed a hundred people; but now Jesus is feeding so many more.

It's an amazing event on its own, but as Catholics, we can look back and see that this sign is pointing us towards the even greater miracle of the Eucharist. There are two things in the reading that I would like to point out.

First, listen to how Jesus performs the miracle: "Then Jesus took the loaves, gave thanks,
and distributed them to those who were reclining ..." Those words should sound familiar because they match what the Lord does at the Last Supper when He gives the Eucharist to His disciples for the first time. This stands out in a particular way because John does not write about that part of the Last Supper in his gospel; this seems to take its place and point forward to what is coming.

Second, after everyone eats, Jesus says, "'Gather the fragments left over, so that nothing will be wasted.' So they collected them, and filled twelve wicker baskets with fragments from the five barley loaves that had been more than they could eat."

There is an abundance of bread - more than they could eat - and in a very real way, we are still eating that bread. When Jesus commanded His apostles to carry on what He did, to eat the bread and drink the wine, He showed us a far greater miracle than just filling our stomachs. He gave, and continues to give, Himself to us in the Eucharist. Millions of His followers throughout history and throughout the world have been fed the true Bread of Life since then.

In these next few weeks, we will hear about the peak of the Christian faith: Jesus, the Son of God, gave Himself completely for us on the cross and that sacrifice is made present for us again and again in the Eucharist. When we receive, we are being transformed. God is giving us His life.

Let's come with open minds and hearts to receive the gift Jesus has for us.

15th Sunday In Ordinary Time

Right from the beginning, when he sent his disciples out into the world to share the good news, Jesus told them that they would be rejected:

"Whatever place does not welcome you or listen to you, leave there and shake the dust off your feet in testimony against them."

The fact that people would refuse to hear God's word is nothing new. It's been a problem for humanity from the beginning. It's the reason sin exists in the world: God told us something we didn't like and we didn't want to obey.

There's another example in today's first reading. The prophet Amos is doing what God told him to do - prophesying in the northern kingdom of Israel - but the people there don't want to hear it. Look at what Amaziah said to Amos: "Off with you, visionary, flee to the land of Judah! There earn your bread by prophesying, but never again prophesy in Bethel ..."

In other words, "please leave."

Now it's pretty easy to look at other people like that and point out where they reject God's Word, but the message of these readings is for all of us. I'm not just preaching about this because I'm the priest and I want you to listen to me. This is a danger for you and me: that God's word to us comes as a threat to our desires or our comfort. It's so much easier to just do the things we like regardless of whether they are good for us or not.

We often want to live for comfort, but we were not made for comfort. As Pope Benedict XVI once wrote, we are "created for greatness—for God himself" (Spe Salvi, 33), so choosing to listen to God's Word is not just about saying no to something, but saying yes to the greatest possible thing.

Hearing and obeying God's Word means taking in the challenging things He says to us because they are for our ultimate good. What God offers us and what comes from obeying Him is true happiness; so, it should be our priority to hear Him and to act on what we hear.

One way to do that is to hear His words in the Scriptures. The Bible isn't just another old book. Jesus is present to us in His words and we have to be willing to let Him speak to us. Read a chapter a day or look at each days readings for Mass. The Lord has something to say to you in the Scriptures.

Another important way for us to say "yes" to God's words to us is to take time to be silent before Him. I feel like I say it in every homily, but it is always true: we must have silence in our prayer. If we don't take time to listen to God, how will we ever hear Him?

Listening to God's word also means listening to the teachings of the Church despite our personal feelings or opinions. Being Catholic means embracing the fullness of the Faith, revealed by God in our Church, even though that puts us at odds with the culture in which we live. It means taking it seriously when our bishops call us to action to defend the poor or people who are strangers to us even if it seems to challenge our politics.

Just like the apostles, we may be rejected when we share the Gospel, but that doesn't take away our obligation to do so. Like the prophet Amos and the apostles, we are each chosen and sent by the Lord Jesus. Our lives are a witness to God's presence - so let's constantly listen to what He is saying and do what He asks us to do.

10th Sunday in Ordinary Time

What does sin do to us?

Does it make us dirty? Does it put us in a sort of spiritual detention because we've broken a rule?

This is important to understand. If we are taught not to sin, but rather, to be holy, we should understand the consequences of sin.

Our first reading starts right in the aftermath of the first sin. At the serpent's instigation, Adam and Eve have just disobeyed the Lord's one commandment for them and eaten from the tree of knowledge of good and evil. Now they find themselves in a new situation.

Before, they had lived in innocence and trust. Everything they needed was provided for and they lived in harmony with God, each other, and themselves.

How do things look after that original sin? They are afraid of God, they are self-conscious, and they immediately come into conflict with each other. Notice Adam's response when God asked him what happened: he blames Eve but also blames God. Though he was right with Eve during the serpent's temptation, he says: "The woman whom you put here with me— she gave me fruit from the tree, and so I ate it." [emphasis mine]

When sin came into the world, the community God had created was immediately broken. That's what sin does: it separates us from God, from each other, and even from ourselves.

But God did not give up. Even in those first moments of a fallen world, he make a promise of salvation: "I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers;
he will strike at your head, while you strike at his heel." Other translations even make it "... he will crush your head" and sometimes it is "she will crush your head" - something the Church has seen as pointing to Mary, the New Eve.

However it is translated, we can see that God has a plan. That plan came to fruition with the coming of Jesus. In today's gospel reading, we see how our savior reverses the effects of original sin.

This is a rich gospel story, but I see two important points that tie back to what we heard from Genesis.

First, Jesus' ministry of exorcism. The scribes from Jerusalem, some of Jesus' usual opponents, say that Jesus' power to cast out demons must come from Satan himself.

Jesus' response is clear: how could Satan work against himself? What is really happening is the fulfillment of the promise God made back in the garden. Jesus is the one who defeats the "strong man" and plunders his house. He not only defeats Satan, but wins us back and sets us free from sin.

Jesus still does this work in the Church today. Yes, it happens in exorcisms, but we are freed from evil in a more familiar way through the sacraments: when we are baptized, when we receive the Eucharist, when we confess our sins and are forgiven by God. The sacraments have so much power to set us free if we come to them with open hearts.

That is why He warns the crowd of the danger of what the scribes are doing. In the face of salvation, they accused Jesus of being evil. The unforgivable sin Jesus mentions is hardening your heart and refusing to recognize God's saving actions - you can't be forgiven if you refuse forgiveness!

After showing that He has come to crush Satan, His enemy, Jesus also begins to heal what was broken in the garden after original sin. When He is told that His family is looking for Him, Jesus replies, "Who are my mother and my brothers?" And looking around at those seated in the circle he said, "Here are my mother and my brothers. For whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother."

Is Jesus rejecting His family - rejecting Mary? Of course not! Name another human being who did God's will more perfectly than her!

Jesus is bringing the rest of us into the family. By doing God's will, we are elevated into a greater community. The broken relationships that came about because of sin are healed and made even more powerful through Jesus. Our family doesn't just consist of the people related to us by blood, but all those who are united by the Holy Spirit in the Body of Christ.

Sin separates and isolates us. The grace that comes to us in Jesus brings us together - with ourselves, with each other, and with God. We can be together again without the suspicion, shame, and fear of sin. When we trust in God's mercy and follow His commands, the wounds of sin are undone.

The Ascension of the Lord

The Beatles have a great song called "Hello, Goodbye" that you've probably heard before. The chorus goes, "You say goodbye and I say hello, hello, hello. I don't know why you say goodbye, I say hello."

That song popped into my head as I thought about these readings for the Ascension of the Lord.

It's easy to forget about this important part of Jesus' mission. After His passion, death, and resurrection, He spent time with His disciples. He taught them, ate with them, and reassured them that it was really true: He was alive, more alive than anyone had ever been.

But the disciples were still waiting for something. They asked Him, "Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?" They were expecting Jesus, the son of David and the Messiah, to restore the Kingdom of David. They wanted Him to bring about this golden age for Israel.

Jesus tells them that the timing of the coming of God's kingdom was not their concern, that now they had work to do. These are last words He spoke to them before He ascended: "... you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem,
throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."

Then He's gone.

But rather than being the end of the story, it is really a beginning. The kingdom that they had asked about was going to come, but in a bigger way than they could have imagined and it was their mission that would bring it about.

The Ascension is not about Jesus saying "goodbye" to his disciples - it is a "hello" a new phase of history. From now on, Christ's body is present in the world through His Church. The Kingdom of God is coming to fulfillment - in us, His body.

When the Holy Spirit comes down on these disciples, they will explode out of the upper room taking the Gospel all over the world. That same Spirit empowers us today to do our part.

Jesus still speaks to the world - through us, His Church.

He still comforts those who are mourning and heals the sick  - with our hands and our voices.

He took his humanity into the presence of the Father so that, one day, we can be there too.


The angels asked the disciples why they were "standing there looking at the sky?" They could be asking us the same question. Christ had not abandoned His people. He is present with us still today.

One day, He will visibly return, just as He promised; but, until then, we should be utterly clear on what our purpose is. We are His witnesses responsible for proclaiming Him everywhere we go.

Holy Thursday - Mass of the Lord's Supper

The people of Israel had been celebrating the Passover for generations before Jesus and His apostles gathered in the upper room to eat their meal shortly before Jesus' passion. They all would have grown up with it - year after year recreating the ritual meal that God commanded His people to eat way back in Egypt.

That first Passover was part of their path to freedom. They didn't just get together to eat a meal: they sacrificed that lamb and put its blood outside the doors of their homes. It signified that they were God's people - chosen by Him and soon to be liberated by Him from slavery.

They were to eat that meal, perform that sacrifice every year. Each time it drew them back to what God had done for them. Later, a priesthood was established for the people to offer this and other sacrifices that were part of their covenant with the Lord.

Priesthood and sacrifice always go together. The priests offered the blood of animals to symbolize the lives of the people. It's like saying to God, "We belong to You. Our very lives belong to You."

Now, Jesus and His closest followers are gathered together to eat that same Passover, but things are different this time. Jesus deviates from the normal course of things in two important and closely related ways: the institution of the Eucharist and the washing of His disciples' feet.

What we heard in the second reading from St. Paul is the earliest account of what Jesus said and did at the last supper. All of this is new to the Passover meal. What would the disciples have been thinking when Jesus said, "This is my body ..." and "This cup is the new covenant in my blood"?

Then, in our Gospel, we heard how Jesus washed the feet of His disciples.

Just on its surface, this is an incredible act of humility. In a culture where almost everyone walked everywhere in open sandals or simply barefoot, it was the job of the lowest slave to clean the filthy feet of their superiors. No teacher or master would stoop so low - but Jesus did. His whole life was an act of service and self-sacrifice, all leading to the cross.

But there is another meaning to this act of service. At the same supper where Jesus gave His disciples a new ritual meal to eat and commanded them "do this in remembrance of me" and "as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes" - at that same meal, he washed His disciples.

Just like the Passover itself, this should take us back to the time of the Exodus, when Moses washed Aaron and his sons before they entered into God's presence to serve as priests. You could see that washing and Jesus' washing of His disciples' feet as a kind of ordination.

And so we see in the Lord's Supper that Jesus is beginning a new priesthood - a priesthood that will offer a sacrifice of bread and wine that will somehow be more than just food, it will be Jesus Himself. It's by His command that we celebrate the Mass and by His words spoken by the priest that He continues to give us His Body and Blood.

Through the Eucharist offered by the priests of the Church, we all get to be present at Calvary. The blood that He shed on the cross does more than just mark the doors of our homes, it is given to us - He gives Himself to us - so that we can be one with Him.

That is what the Church calls us to mediate upon tonight as we we enter into the Sacred Triduum, these three days when the most important mysteries of our faith are laid before us.

Christ established the priesthood to continue His presence among the Church He founded especially through the Eucharist. This priesthood isn't one of power and self-promotion but one of service and self-sacrifice, symbolized by that final command of the Gospel: "If I, therefore, the master and teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash one another's feet. I have given you a model to follow, so that as I have done for you, you should also do."

So, I ask all of you tonight to pray for your priests - those of us here in this parish and priests everywhere. Pray that we can truly follow Christ's model of service, but especially that we can stay close to the Lord who called us to this vocation. If we are to make Him present in the world today through our ministry, then we need to truly know Him.

All of us, as people who receive the gift of Jesus' body and blood, are also called to live like Him. To love like Him. To serve others as He served. And to lay down our lives out of love.


Palm Sunday of the Lord's Passion


What could we possibly say after hearing that story?

We heard so much in that one Gospel reading that it would be very difficult to focus on any one thing.

And this is only the beginning.

With Palm Sunday we enter into the most intense, most focused, and most important week of the whole year for Catholics. This is the time when we especially celebrate events that, while they happened hundreds of years ago, are pivotal in our own lives.

We will spend this week hearing about, celebrating, and meditating upon a week in Jesus' life  - a week in which his whole purpose in living among us is made clear. Jesus didn't come to give us advice about being "good people" or dazzle us with miracles; He came to offer Himself to His Father on our behalf. He came to accept the consequences of our sins so that we could be set free. He died and rose so that we could too.

It's a lot to take in - and it's easy to go through Holy Week without stopping to appreciate just what it means - but we shouldn't take this opportunity for granted. Every year we are given the gift of remembering what Jesus has done for us. It's something to which we constantly need to return.

As we walk with Jesus this week, I encourage you to remember this: every step he took was for you. Whether it was celebrating the Last Supper or being betrayed and arrested or carrying the cross up to Calvary. He chose to do all of these things - He embraced them because of His love for you.

Let us take our steps out of love. Let's make this week holy, not just in what we call it, but in how we live.


At least once a week - but usually many more times than that - I find myself staring at the sky at night.

Something about seeing the heavens and how amazing and huge they are has always captured my attention. I remember a time in college when my friends and I decided to stay up all night to watch a meteor shower.

We camped out on a baseball field in winter coats and sleeping bags and watched hundreds of meteors streak across the sky. It was amazing. And I couldn't help but think, "God made that." To see the vast complexity of the universe and how we are just one small part of that reality is to be made aware of the greatness of God.

God's presence is written across all of creation, but you have to have the eyes to see it. You have to be like the magi who we hear about in today's gospel.

These men were not part of the chosen people - they were foreigners from the East. They were probably a mix of what we today call astronomers and astrologers. They studied the heavens but they also saw more than just lights in the sky; and using all the knowledge and wisdom they had, they came to the conclusion that a king had been born in the land of Israel.

And so they came. They traveled from their home to another country and, after finding out that Bethlehem was where the messiah was prophesied to be born, the followed the star to the end of their journey. 

Today, people might say, “This story is impossible. That’s not how stars work.”

That is true: stars don’t ordinarily point to specific spots on the Earth; but something more, something supernatural is happening here.

What amazes me most about this story is what the wise men do when they find the Holy Family and the king they had been searching for:  after searching the heavens for signs and following a miraculous star, they find a poor, seemingly ordinary baby. 

Do they leave disappointed? Do they go looking for the real “king of the Jews”?

No.  “They prostrated themselves and did him homage. Then they opened their treasures
and offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.”

These wise men can see what King Herod could not. Something special is here. Someone special is here.

I think that is the lesson for all of us on this feast of the Epiphany. God reveals Himself to us in different ways.  

Sometimes it is in the grandeur of the universe. Beautiful things that capture our imagination and force us to acknowledge how small we are in the face of the Creator.  

But at other times he meets us with humility. Can we see Him then? 

Can we see Him in a child? 

Can we see Him in the face of a stranger? 

Can we find Him in our everyday, ordinary prayer? 

Can we sense that God is with us when we look at the altar and see what appears to be just normal bread and wine.  

The magi - the first of the nations to come to Jesus but not the last - they teach us to seek the Lord. To follow the signs He sends us, to listen to His words in the Scriptures - and then to accept Him with humility and openness when He appears.  


The ancient Greeks had two different ideas of time: chronos and kairos.

Chronos is time the way that we think of it - minute after minute, moving forward. Chronos is "how many minutes until I'm done with work for the day?" or "there is only one more day until Christmas" or "I am 34 years old."

Kairos, on the other hand is about God's time. The word kairos literally means "opportunity," and it describes the way that God acts in our world. An example of kairos would be a person saying, "I met my spouse at just the right time in my life."

One of the best kairos moments for us should be when we come to celebrate the Mass: we step out of the normal flow of our lives and enter into this little pocket of eternity.

That's why you don't see a clock up here in the sanctuary. It's why I personally don't like celebrating Mass with a watch on - coming to Mass isn't the same thing as putting in 8 hours at work or doing a 30 minute workout. When we are in the liturgy, in a real way, we step out of time. We stand in eternity with God as He comes to us. We enter into kairos time and we shouldn't allow our ordinary way of thinking to take away from that.

It's so easy, because of the pace of our lives, to become blinded to kairos - to the way God shows Himself, the way kairos breaks into chronos. That's a normal struggle that all of us will face - but tonight/today is an opportunity to step away, to stand in a moment of eternity and see what God has for us in this opportune time; because today we celebrate when God came to us.

What we celebrate at Christmas, what we commemorate with lights and carols and Nativity scenes, is eternity breaking into time. We remember that, one night, two thousand years ago, God was born as one of us.

That's an astounding thing to say. In every other religion from ancient times until now, gods may have interacted with humanity or spoken to humanity but only Christians proclaim that God has taken on our humanity.

The One who created the universe is with us - as a helpless baby, born in poverty and homelessness.

The One who chose, out of love, to create creatures like Himself now makes Himself vulnerable to them, dependent on them, and lives with them.

As we can read at the beginning of the Gospel of John, "the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us." 

We can never sing enough songs to celebrate this. We can never put enough enough lights to point out this truth.

God has given Himself to us. That is the real gift of Christmas.

So, how do we respond? What do we offer back to such a gift?

If God has chosen to pour Himself out for us, then we can do the same.

Jesus came into the mess of our world - let's invite Him into the lives, even when they are messy.

I encourage you to find a moment tonight/today - just a few minutes - when you can sit quietly. Put your phone on "do not disturb," shut off your tv, and open up your heart and mind to the God who loves you.

He came into this world for you - and still offers Himself. At this very Mass, He becomes present in a tangible way in the Eucharist because He wants you.

Don't take that gift for granted. Don't let it disappear into the busyness of every passing moment. Choose it. Accept it. Say yes to Him.

The God behind everything, the one who is, who was, and who is to come - He is the one who gives Himself to you tonight/today. He came long ago as a child and He still comes with that endless, vulnerable love. This Christmas, let us once more turn our hearts to His and love Him back.

Gaudete Sunday

Today we are given a command: rejoice!

That's what the name Gaudete Sunday means. It comes from the antiphon at the beginning of today's Mass: "Rejoice in the Lord always; again, I say, rejoice." We heard it again in the second reading from 1 Thessalonians: "Rejoice always."

That's what this third Sunday is about. We wear rose, we light the pink candle, and we are told to rejoice, because we're almost to Christmas.

But sometimes, it's hard to rejoice.

We don't feel so joyful when we're sick - or someone we love is sick.

It's hard to rejoice when we don't like our job - or we're afraid because we can't find a job and don't know what to do.

We don't feel like rejoicing if we're struggling in a relationship or if we're disappointed in ourselves.

Rejoicing can be difficult in a broken world full of broken, incomplete people; so what do we do with this command from the Lord to rejoice? I think we find the answer in our first reading from the prophet Isaiah:

"I rejoice heartily in the LORD, in my God is the joy of my soul ..."

God is the joy of my soul.

The only way to find true, lasting joy in the world is if that joy is based in God. I'm not talking about just happiness. So many things promise that they'll make us truly happy: money, sex, fame, health, even relationships with others. All of these are good things - but only temporarily. Money runs out, our health goes away ... even in the holiest marriage, those two people cannot offer each other eternal joy.

We only find that in God.

And so, in this season of Advent, when we've been hearing over and over again, "be vigilant, be watchful for the Lord," we should also examine ourselves.

Is God the joy of my soul? Or do I look to lesser things to give me happiness and fulfillment? If you want to live a disappointed, joyless life, make something less than God the center of it. It's only when we treat the One who is most important like He is that we will find joy that doesn't go away. It's only when God is the cause of our joy that we can really follow the Scriptures and "rejoice always."

Let's be like John the Baptist. He lived in poverty and rejected fame. When asked if he was the Messiah or if he was Elijah back from the dead, he simply pointed towards the Lord. Nothing was more important for him.

Let's live out what Paul wrote to the Thessalonians by giving thanks in every circumstance. Do you want to be more aware of God's presence in your life? Thank him for everything, even when things are hard. Gratitude is a path straight to joy.

We are in a season of joy, a joy that shines out even in the darkness of winter and the brokenness of the world. Let that joy live in the innermost part of your heart. Put God first and you will always be able to rejoice.


A moment to breathe

Today marks a day I have been looking forward to - not because of something happening but because of something finishing.  

This fall has been one of those seasons of fairly constant busyness for me. That is not to say that it was bad - absolutely not - but it’s been full. 

I just spend the last three days with around 30 of our high school students on a Kairos Retreat, something that we have been working on for months.  

The preparation has required a lot of time as well as space in my head.  

It went great. I am feeling fulfilled and inspired by what I was privileged to witness on retreat. High school ministry is so meaningful to me and moments like this just affirm to me how important it is.  

But, now I find myself at a good moment to stop and think about everything that’s gone on this fall. This has been as far ahead as I’ve looked for quite a while, so it’s time to look back, look ahead, and see what God is saying.  

Priests are often busy - I’m not alone in that; but I often need to remind myself to look at the big picture: to thank God for what he’s done and to trust in what he will do. 

23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time: Family Issues

What exactly did Jesus do during His earthly life?

He preached, He healed people. He performed miracles, made prophecies. He suffered, died, and rose from the dead.

All of this is important; but one other incredibly important part of Jesus' life was forming a community. Right at the beginning of His public ministry, He began gathering a group of people around Him. It started with the Apostles whose names we know well - men He specifically called to join Him; but it kept growing as Jesus traveled the country and proclaimed the Kingdom of God.

Very quickly after Jesus ascended into Heaven, there is a community of disciples living and praying together - a community that still lives today.

We are the Church  - the family Jesus started that has existed ever since He walked the earth. All of this tells us that living as a disciple is never meant to be done alone. We are all in this together.

While we all do have our own individual relationships with Jesus, we also have an ecclesial or communal one - together as a Church.

Being a Christian means being a part of this family; but like any family, sometimes we argue. Sometimes we hurt each other.

What Jesus lays out in today's Gospel is how we should respond to brother or sister Christian who sins against us: first, personally approach them; then, if that doesn't resolve the issue, bring a couple other members of the Church; finally, if that doesn't work, it becomes a matter for the whole Church with repercussions.

There are a few things we need to understand about this process that Jesus lays out:

- For Christians, everything is to be done from the perspective of love. As St. Paul says in today's second reading, "Owe nothing to anyone, except to love one another; for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law."

None of what Jesus commands us to do here is about seeking retribution, shaming someone, or making ourselves look good. If that is what is in our hearts, we shouldn't be correcting anyone. The fraternal correction Jesus describes is entirely intended to reconcile a sinner to the love of God and the Church. It has nothing to do with revenge

- We should also recognize that Jesus' words have a particular meaning for the clergy of the Church. Following in the footsteps of the apostles, the bishops and the priests who assist them have a responsibility to call people away from sin and back into the communion of the Church.

This is not always a pleasant responsibility. Sometimes we are called to say rather unpopular things - to speak out against what our culture takes for granted as normal in good. In our time, these are usually issues about sexual morality. Or it may take the form of calling Catholics to live the Gospel and not conform themselves to our present age. No matter what it is, it is not easy or fun.

Sometimes this even requires the kind of public correction Jesus describes - that's when we hear the word "excommunication." But even that has been portrayed as some kind of punishment. In reality, telling someone that they have placed themselves outside of the communion of the Church is designed to encourage repentance. It means that we are called to evangelize and reach out to them.

Clergy are often called to be the watchmen Ezekiel heard about in the first reading: warning people when they are leading themselves into destruction. We will be held responsible for not proclaiming the truth.

Please pray for the pope, the bishops, and your priests - that we may always have the courage to proclaim Jesus' words, even when it is hard.


The point of all of this is that the Lord desires for His children to live in real communion. We are a family - His family - and it should break our hearts to see any one of our brothers or sisters wander away. 

All of us are imperfect, but all of us are on the same journey. Let us support one another in repenting of our sins and always moving forward, more and more deeply into the love of God.