St. Thomas the Apostle Parish

Homily for Friday after Ash Wednesday

“A heart contrite and humbled, O God, you will not spurn.”

So often, when speaking to children and even adults about the Sacrament of Reconciliation, I hear people speak of fear. I’m not always sure of what people are afraid; perhaps it’s different for each person.

I think, though, for most, the fear is one of rejection or harsh judgment. Maybe they think the priest will think less of them or that God is angry with them; perhaps they are afraid of their own judgment of themselves. But the Sacrament of Reconciliation is about God’s mercy, not anger, not judgment, not retribution. God wants us to be close to Him and, when we pull ourselves away through sin, we simply need to turn to God with sincere remorse, and God will always be there to bring us close to Him once again.

May this Lent be a time when we truly become humble of heart and open ourselves to the ever-present mercy of God.+

Homily for Thursday after Ash Wednesday

In our first reading, from the Book of Deuteronomy, we hear the words: “Choose life, then, that you and your descendants may live, by loving the LORD, your God, heeding His voice, and holding fast to Him.

Our time on this earth, it seems, is a constant struggle to balance what we need in this life to live well and to be close to God, and the desire to attain all that we can in this life in terms of material wealth, and physical enjoyment. The keyword is “balance.”

Our readings today encourage us to seek, first, and foremost, the good things of the LORD. It is in these that we find true happiness; it is in these that we find true life in the LORD. This doesn’t exclude pursuing what we truly need in this life, but we must put God and our need for God at the forefront of all we do. May our prayer this day and throughout this season of Lent be that we put God before all else in this life and that our love of God pervades all that we say and do.+

Homily for Ash Wednesday

This Lent, if possible, it might be a good idea to take a walk among the trees of winter. We can learn from the trees; in a certain way, they are like a catechism.

Each spring, the trees begin their year's work: They gather water and nutrients in their roots and give life to the year's harvest; in the late summer, they give it all away — the birds of the air, the animals of the wood, and you and I feast on their bounty; then, as winter comes, they let it all go in one colorful display of God's grandeur.

And now, in the dead of winter, they go deep into their roots for renewal and sleep. Trees stand among us as living expressions of hope, for they know that the winter winds will cease, that the icy snow will melt, that the warmth of spring will come, and life will be born and grow and become.

This Lent let your heart walk among the trees and let them be your spiritual teachers.

Go deep into your roots to that place where God dwells within you and speaks words of encouragement, peace, and truth.

Let the Word of God take root within you, that you may realize an abundant harvest of happiness and purpose in the seasons before you.

Learn to let go in order to recover, to detach in order to attach, to die in order to live.

Let the crosses you bear become living branches of Christ the trunk and vine, that they may transform your wounded bark, your disappointing blossoms, your winter loneliness into the eternal springtime of resurrection.

Let us pray: God, Giver of all good things, may this Lenten springtime be a time of renewal for our tired winter spirits. Let your Word take root within us, that we may experience again your love in our midst. Re-make our hearts to the new life of your Christ, that the hope and joy of Easter may become a reality in this life as we journey with Him to the next. +

Homily for Tuesday of the 7th Week in Ordinary Time

Several years ago, I attended a Youth Ministry conference in Colorado Springs. There were a number of workshops and, during one of these, someone made a comment about youth, calling them “the future of the Church.” The presenter responded by saying, “Young people are not just the future of the Church; they are a real part of the Church of the present as well.” Indeed, he was right and one day, it will be their duty to teach and carry on the faith long after we are gone. 

It is with tender devotion, then, that the Church prepares our youth for their First Communion and (a few years later) for their Confirmation as well as for their future role as teachers of the faith. In these sacraments we are welcoming them into the Church, receiving them into the family of faith. That welcoming children is of great importance is clearly evident from today’s Gospel passage. In it, Jesus identified Himself very closely with children; He went so far as to say, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.”

Our Gospel passage today suggests that somehow it is in and through children that we can best encounter Jesus and His Father. Elsewhere, Jesus identifies Himself with the most vulnerable — the sick, the hungry, the thirsty, the naked, the stranger, the imprisoned. Children, by definition, are among the most vulnerable; they are dependent on others for life in all its dimensions. Today’s Gospel passage suggests that ministry to children and to young people, whatever form it takes, is a sacred ministry; it is indeed holy ground.+

Homily for Monday of the 7th Week in Ordinary Time

In our Gospel passage today, the disciples were trying to heal an extremely distressed boy; and while they failed to heal him, Jesus succeeded. In response to their question as to why they could not heal the boy and bring the demon out of him, Jesus answered, “This kind can come out only through prayer.” The suggestion is that the disciples were trying to heal this boy with their own power, but what was really needed to heal the boy was God’s power. So, if the disciples were to be channels of God’s healing power, they needed to pray more; they needed to be in greater communion with God if God was to work through them in a life-giving way.

In answer to their question, Jesus points to the power of prayer and the need for prayer if certain kinds of difficulties in life are to be resolved. Some situations in life are so much greater than us, so beyond our own resources to deal with them, that it is only prayer that will get us through them. I’m sure that on many different levels, we all know this from our own experience. When we are really between a rock and a hard place in our lives, we can discover that it is prayer that keeps us going when all else fails. When all our own efforts fail, it is the LORD who keeps us going in our prayerful connection with Him.+

Homily for the 7th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Most people like a challenge or they like it when they’ve met a challenge and conquered it. I wonder if most people, hearing today’s Gospel passage, realize that in it we’re given one of the most difficult challenges in all of Scripture. It’s also a most basic Christian challenge because it calls on each of us to be like Christ.  And it goes even further: it calls us to be “perfect like the Father is perfect.”

If we take these words seriously, I can’t imagine a greater, more life-encompassing challenge. It entails incredible expectations: turning the other cheek; giving away our cloak; and here’s the “Biggie:” loving our enemies and praying for our persecutors.

When we listen to these words somewhat casually, they sound wonderful and uplifting.  But do we really know what they mean? Do we really approach the challenge of living these words – in their truest meaning – in our daily lives?

If you would, reflect on your own life and think about all the people who have hurt you:  those who have lied to you, stabbed you in the back, took advantage of your kindness, spread untrue rumors about you, gossiped about you, or judged you.

Think about the friend, coworker, or family member that you trusted yet betrayed you, wounded you, and disrespected you.  Look back on all the people in your life who have left hurts and scars, with a word, a look, or a touch.

Now, imagine yourself doing what Jesus commands us to do: Love them. Pray for them. Pray for their good.  Pray that grace will come into their hearts.  Pray that their eyes may be opened and their hearts may be healed.  Because chances are, if someone has hurt you or persecuted you, it’s probably because someone once did the same to them.

Psychologists tell us that this is a vicious cycle. It’s a basic truth of our humanity that the hurts we cause one another are – almost always – a part of a vicious cycle that goes on from one generation to another. It is why Jesus, in this gospel passage, essentially says: “Stop!  Enough.  Break the cycle.  Let it go!”

“Love your enemies and pray for your persecutors.”

In really reflecting on these words this past week, I admit that I know that this indeed a tough challenge. Like everyone here today, I, too, struggle with hurts, betrayals, lies, and rumors, and how to respond to them.

I struggle with the desire for revenge, to hurt those who’ve hurt me, and yet, I know that to act that way is self-destructive and goes against what it truly means to be Christian.

And Jesus certainly knows the struggle that we face.         

Sometimes we focus so much on Jesus divinity that we forget that he was fully human in all things but sin; that he experienced hurts in his life and, as we know from the story of his temptation in the desert, that he would have experienced the same urges we feel when we’re hurt.

He also knows that we can achieve something much greater. He says, “Be perfect just as your heavenly Father is perfect.” And in the midst of his being fully human, He showed us that perfection.

In the final moments of His life, after He had been betrayed, lied about, ridiculed, taunted, reviled, beaten, spat upon, and brutally nailed to and suspended from a wooden cross, he gave us the truest example of Christian perfection.  At that moment, Jesus looked with pity on those who did these horrible things to Him and mercifully prayed for their redemption and healing, saying, “Father, forgive them.  They know not what they do.”

Each one of us has been, to some extent, in the same position: suspended on our own cross, feeling helpless or hopeless, facing cruelty or injustice, angry at what life has done to us.

How do we pray for – and love - those responsible?

The answer starts with a first step and that is to pray for the ability to forgive, to be open to forgiveness, to truly want to forgive. Notice that I didn’t say, “forgive and forget.” None of us really forgets and, there are times and situations when we would be foolish to “forget.” Some people will continue to be abusive and forgiveness never means opening ourselves up to that kind of behavior. But we are still called to forgive and to pray for the people we need to forgive. It’s a fine line in these situations but one that we, as Christians, must walk.

We are fast approaching the season of Lent, a time when we focus on what we should do every day of the year: to recognize our sins and ask for forgiveness. It is a time, too, to pay special attention to those who need our forgiveness (whether they think they need it or not), and to be freed from the wounds of sin and division.

May our celebration of this coming season and of the commemoration of the suffering, death, and resurrection of Jesus, bring about the forgiveness of heart that will free us to help to imitate Jesus and thus to truly live as God’s holy people. +

Homily for the Feast of the Chair of Saint Peter, Apostle

The feast that we celebrate today, The Chair of St. Peter, Apostle, is not about a piece of furniture. Instead, it is about the authority that Jesus bestowed upon St. Peter and his successors. And this authority is not St. Peter’s authority but the authority of Christ. The Chair (or Cathedra) is the symbol of that authority. This is where we get the word “Cathedral” which is the seat of authority in any diocese.

Jesus’ authority or power, we know, was never used for His own purposes; it was used to do the will of His Father in heaven; it was used to heal the sick, give comfort to the brokenhearted, to give hope to the downtrodden; to help the needy. So, the authority He bestowed upon St. Peter was less power and more responsibility; a responsibility of faith, love, and compassion. This is reflected in Bernini’s sculpture of the Chair of St. Peter under the dome of the Basilica in Rome: On the inscription on it are the following words: "O Pastor Ecclesiae, tu omnes Christi pascis agnos et oves," which means,  “O pastor of the Church, you feed all Christ's lambs and sheep.”

On this feast day, then, let us pray especially for our Holy Father: that the Holy Spirit may ever guide him as he continues to act as the Vicar of Christ on earth. May his work, his prayer, and his very life be an example to us of how to use the gifts we have received to bring the love and grace of God to all those we meet.+

Homily for Friday of the 6th Week in Ordinary Time

For us to be true to the teaching of Christ and to His values often means having to go against what society says and even putting aside parts of ourselves so that He may be first in our lives. In many ways, this may feel like a loss.

In our efforts to be faithful to the LORD, we will often have to say “no” when others are saying “yes.” Following Jesus is not easy; it often means taking the way of the Cross, that is, the more difficult way. Being Jesus’ followers is very demanding, especially in today’s world and culture.

However, Jesus promises that those who lose their lives for His sake and for the sake of the Gospel will save their lives; they will be more alive. So, what feels like a loss at the time will ultimately be a benefit.

Jesus understands the temptation to be ashamed of Him and His words. He gets that we may feel tempted to keep our faith in Him hidden so as to go with the flow. However, if we are prepared to live our faith publicly, even when pressured to do otherwise, then we will come to know the fullness of life that the LORD wants for all of us.+

Homily for Thursday of the 6th Week in Ordinary Time

Just like the ancient philosopher Socrates, Jesus enjoyed asking questions of His disciples and of the people He encountered as He journeyed from town to town. One of the most important questions He asked is found in today’s Gospel passage, “Who do you say that I am?” It is a question that is actually spoken to each one of us and each of us is asked to answer that question for ourselves. But it is not a question that is simply asking for information or an answer that can be found in a book or online. Instead, it is a question that is spoken to both our heads and our hearts.

Peter was correct in answering Jesus’ question by saying, “You are the Christ.” But Peter’s answer wasn’t the entire truth about who Jesus was and is. Jesus went on to identify Himself as the Christ; the Christ who would be the suffering Son of Man; the Christ who would be rejected and put to death.

This self-revelation of Jesus was unacceptable to Peter; he had still to learn to accept the whole truth about Jesus, to receive Jesus as He was and not as Peter wanted Him to be. Peter had a long way to go before he could answer Jesus’ question fully 

We are all on that same journey, gradually coming to understand and know and receive Jesus as He really is and not just as we want Him to be or imagine Him to be.+

Homily for Wednesday of the 6th Week in Ordinary Time

The miracle we hear about today is told only by St. Mark; it wasn’t repeated in the Gospels by St. Matthew and St. Luke, even though they relied heavily on St. Mark’s writings. This is also the only miracle that Jesus worked in stages. Jesus’ willingness to live on our human level offers much to encourage us. There’s a sense of thoughtfulness in the way He deals with the needs of the blind man.

He first takes him by the hand and leads him outside the village. Then, far away from the gawking crowd, He puts saliva on his eyes and, touching the blind man’s closed eyelids with his fingers, Jesus bonds with him. This poor man could not see the sadness in Jesus’ eyes at the sight of this disability, but he could feel the grip of His hand and touch of His fingers. Jesus is not just following common ritual practices in this miracle; He is adapting Himself to the very human condition of need.

The two stages of the miracle are interesting: after the first stage, everything the man could see was so vague that people appeared to be walking trees; then, after the second stage, he could see everything clearly. These two stages mirror the stages of our growth in faith: It doesn’t happen all at once.

We should be grateful to St. Mark for preserving the memory of Jesus’ understanding of and respect for the stages of our lives and our gradual growth to holiness. The steps to holiness follow the path of human existence, but we cannot walk the path alone; we must be like Jesus who took the blind man’s hand and led him outside the village. We take the hand of our neighbor in need, and to our surprise, we are not simply helping the hand that we grasp; we find that that needy hand is leading us to our salvation, just as the blind man led Jesus into an event that proclaims redemption to us today.+