Twas the week before Christmas, and all over the earth,
People were preparing to celebrate Christ’s birth.
Joining again with family and friends
In celebration of the nearing of this year’s end.
Some would be traveling, the first time in two years
As last year they battled CoVid fears.
And most importantly, although some might not agree
Coming to Mass, once again from fear, set free.
On the 4th Sunday of Advent each year, we get one of three Nativity stories: last year was the Annunciation story from St. Luke of the angel Gabriel visiting the Virgin Mary; the year before that was the story of the angel visiting St. Joseph in a dream, and this year, the story of Mary visiting St. Elizabeth. So, in a sense, all three stories are visitation stories of sharing the good news of the imminent arrival of Jesus.
In today’s Gospel, we also hear about being blessed. Elizabeth says to Mary: “Blessed are you who believed that what was spoken to you by the Lord would be fulfilled.” Luke 1:45
It is similar to another passage in Luke’s Gospel, when in response to a woman in the crowd who had called out to him, Jesus replied with: “(B)lessed are those who hear the word of God and observe it.” Luke 11:27-28
In fact, throughout both the Old and New Testaments there are blessings which echo what John said in the Book of Revelation: “Blessed is the one who reads aloud and blessed are those who listen to this prophetic message and heed what is written in it, for the appointed time is near.” Revelation 1:3
There’s two parts to the blessings which flow forth in each of these passages – first we have to hear and listen, then we must respond to what we have heard.
The first part should be the easiest. Week after week we come to Mass to hear God’s Word. Some of us also pursue God’s Word on our own, through reading of the Bible and other spiritual books, or through electronic media such as the podcasts from Fr. Michael Schmidt and his “Bible in a Year” presentations or Bishop Robert Barron’s recordings offered through his Word on Fire institute. We “hear” and “listen”, but how do we respond?
We must Observe. We must Heed. We must Believe. Most importantly, We Must BELIEVE.
When St. Joseph received his message from the angel in his dream, he took Mary into his home because he believed what the angel said. When Mary responded with her “fiat” to Gabriel, “let it be done to me according to your word”, she responded because she believed. When the infant John leapt in Elizabeth’s womb announcing the presence of Jesus in Mary’s womb, Elizabeth knew what it meant because she believed what she felt.
Sounds like the message from the movie, “Polar Express”, when at the end of the movie the young lad who received the golden ticket for the train Tom Hanks punches it with the word, “Believe”.
But just because Mary believed, why did she go to Elizabeth?
I think it was because Elizabeth was the one human person she knew who would understand what she was experiencing. She probably felt an affinity – a connection – with Elizabeth, because she knew that Elizabeth had also experienced a type of miracle conception. Elizabeth, who in her old age was considered barren, was pregnant. And Mary knew that divine intervention was involved in both situations. The angel Gabriel had told her so. And Elizabeth, although not yet a mother herself, could offer her guidance on the practical matters associated with pregnancy that, frankly St. Joseph could never do. Any man who thinks he can tell his wife what to expect when she gets pregnant takes his life into his own hands.
And so she went “in haste”. Why so quickly?
From the moment of her conception, Mary was filled with the Holy Spirit and when you are filled with the Holy Spirit, you want to proclaim it with great joy. And who better than to someone who would understand? The mere fact that the angel Gabriel told her about Elizabeth would have been a sign to Mary that she needed to go to her relative in all haste.
It’s sort of like when we receive a gift (like at Christmas) that can best be appreciated only when it is shared – whether it be a video game, a new set of golf clubs, or new clothes. A gift that cannot be shared will never bring as much joy as one that can. And Jesus is the ultimate gift shared with the world by God his Father.
What about us? Every year at Christmas we receive a renewal of the gift of faith through our participation in the birthday of Jesus, and it is a time for us to remember others who need the gift of his presence more than ever. And these last two years should really bring that home, given the isolation so many have experienced, not to mention the losses of loved ones, of jobs, of our peace of mind.
And there is no better gift than to share the love of God with those most in need of His mercy. There is no shortage of those who need that love. All you have to do is look around you. So let us go in haste to those around us: first to those who are closest to us – our family and friends, then to all we encounter. This Christmas, let us truly be the Light of Christ to all we meet. Seek out those who are in darkness. Be their Light.
And then, as Tiny Tim might say, God will bless us, every one.
Sunday, December 19, 2021
The Blessing of Visitations
Sunday, November 14, 2021
Four Calls to Action
Four Calls to Action
November 14, 2021 33rd Sunday of OT - B
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
It seems that ever since my ordination almost nine years ago, I have been blessed each year with preaching on one of the last two Sundays of Ordinary Time.
Since these Sundays usually deal with the topic of eschatology, or the End Times and what to expect when we meet Jesus face to face in his 2nd coming, in the past I’ve emphasized Jesus’ words from today’s Gospel:
"But of that day or hour, no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father"
and I’ve referred to the number of false prophecies concerning the end of the world or the number and magnitude of tragic events which the world has experienced during the last 2000 plus years.
So, in preparing for Mass this weekend, I went back to see what God said to me in the past about the Sunday readings for today, and I was particularly struck by what was at the beginning of my homily in 2015 – six years ago.
“Based on what we see in our movies, it appears that we have a fascination with the end of the world, and we have created all sorts of apocalyptic visions of it – world destruction by earthquakes, floods or asteroids; nuclear destruction; epidemic or pandemic disease outbreaks; or my favorite – zombie invasions.”
Pandemic Outbreaks? I would have never thought that just 4 short years after that homily our world would face one of the worst pandemics in recent history – and no, I’m no prophet like Daniel.
I can hardly believe that it has been almost two years since we first heard of CoVid and entered into a global pandemic which, to date, has directly or indirectly claimed the lives of over 5 million people worldwide. During the pandemic’s peak activity there were those who were sure that we were definitely entering into the End Times prophesied by Daniel; and there were others who, while certain that the world wasn’t ending, thought it would be the “end of the world as we know it”, to quote the movie “Chicken Little”.
But while the residual effects of the pandemic linger on, signs of God’s Mercy and Love are once again at work – indeed they have been at work all along. Slowly the world is beginning to resume a sense of normalcy in day-to-day life. Businesses are bouncing back and there are jobs available for those who are seeking work. People are beginning to break free from their isolation and gather in groups, even traveling to see family and friends as many of you will be doing come Thanksgiving.
Even before the Bishop’s announcement this weekend of the lifting of the dispensation from Mass obligations beginning with Advent, more and more people have been returning to Church to feed their hunger for the presence of God in their lives. And the outpouring of love and charity to those most affected by the pandemic by those who were moved by the Grace of God has been a source of great hope.
In both our first reading from the prophet Daniel and today’s Gospel from St. Mark, we are reminded that there will be more trials and tribulations to come, beyond our current pandemic. In the face of these challenges, we are called to bring hope to others, and we need to embrace that hope ourselves. So, here are 4 ways we are called to respond to the current pandemic and to the future challenges we will face.
1. We are called to Community. This doesn’t mean we need to live in the hippie “communes” of the 60’s and 70’s in order to draw closer to God; it means that we can best experience the presence of God through other members of the Body of Christ in community. We had that taken away from us by the pandemic and we had to work at maintaining a sense of community. We held ZOOM meetings and used social media to stay in touch. I even know of one group that met in a park and keep socially distant by sitting in lawn chairs six feet apart, almost yelling to each other to be heard. Satan wants to isolate us, but we cannot allow anything to keep us from each other – or from God.
2. We are called to Charity. The pandemic has had a devastating effect on not only the health of individuals but on their livelihoods. Many despaired of finding relief from their challenges. While there were many agencies that tried to help, it was through the charitable efforts of individuals that the needs of many were filled. Satan wants us to be selfish with our time, our talents and our treasures, but we must always be open to the movement of the Holy Spirit and reach out in charity whenever we see someone in need.
3. We are called to Courage. Despite the fear generated by the various media outlets and in spite of the warnings and legal efforts of governmental powers to the contrary, many individuals placed their personal lives at risk by physically attending to the needs of those with CoVid or other issues. Unfortunately, as a result some died. But like St. Damien of Molokai, they served willingly, without counting the cost. Satan wants us to be afraid and trust in no one, but we must have the courage to overcome our fears and trust in God, whatever the cost.
4. We are called to Love God. While the first three “calls” above are important, nothing is more important than our Love of God – the 1st Commandment. And the #1 way to show our Love is through how we worship Him. In the name of safety, our normal ability to worship God in our Sunday liturgies was restricted and even discouraged, leaving us to find alternative ways to show God our love through live-streaming of Mass or other social media outlets.
Satan wants us to neglect God and he places obstacles between us and Him, but we must always seek ways to prioritize our worship of God and to draw closer to Him in spite of these obstacles. The Eucharist is the source and summit of our faith, and while nothing can replace it we must take advantage of any opportunity to express our love for God through worship until we can receive Him in the Real Presence.
Yes – even at the risk of our lives, we must worship God. If our mission on earth is to draw people to Jesus, how can we truly fulfill that mission if we don’t place Him first in our hearts and our lives? And if we are afraid to worship Him, how can we say He is first in our hearts?
As we reflect on how we move forward to “normalcy” in the weeks and months ahead, let us respond to any current or future challenges through the four calls to action above. Let us find a new “normal” in which God is #1 in our lives and we no longer fear the trials and tribulations that will certainly arise again in the future. Let us draw others to ourselves and to God through love and charity.
God is always near, and as our psalm today says, He will show us the path to life, to fullness of joy, to His delights forever.
So remember: Community. Charity. Courage. Love.
And the greatest of these is LOVE. No matter who you are or what you are experiencing, God loves you. And He will always love you. Forever.
Sunday, October 24, 2021
I Want to See
So we turn to our parents, our friends, our teachers, or others that we consider knowledgeable, or “experts”, especially in the fields of science, technology, medicine or finance. And when we’ve exhausted all of our human resources for help, we turn to the oracle of all wisdom – the Internet.
And if something is explained to us and we do understand it, we might respond with the old adage which was derived from the gospels, “’Ah’, said the blind man. ‘Now I see!’”
But what happens when something is thoroughly explained to us and we still cannot “see” the answer? What do we do? Should we just accept what is told to us, trusting in the source of the information? Or can we just ignore it? Maybe.
What if it is something that weighs heavily on our hearts, a problem that is beyond all earthly understanding, such as in the case of “why do bad things happen to good people?”
Maybe we or someone we love has suffered from a major illness. Or maybe involved in a tragic accident or other catastrophic event. Maybe we’re trying to recover from some sort of terrible emotional trauma.
When that happens, we really want to know “why”. We want to “see” or understand. At some point in our lives, I believe that those of us of faith have all called out to Jesus to make clear something that we didn’t understand. I say those of us of faith, for those who do not have faith have no higher authority to turn to other than the limited knowledge of man, and they must depend only on earthly solutions to their problems. And when that fails them, they can lapse into depression – or even despair.
And in those cases that are beyond human understanding, there is only one place left to turn – God.
As a blind man, Bartimaeus could only “see” through the eyes of others, and he was totally dependent upon what was shared with him through his begging. In Mark’s gospel, we don’t know how long Bartimaeus had been blind, or what caused his blindness. Maybe it was the result of an accident. Maybe, he had been blind since birth.
Think about how Jesus responds to his disciples in the story of the man born blind in John’s Gospel (Jn 9:2-3). Jesus is walking with his disciples when they pass a man blind from birth and they ask him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus tells them, “Neither he nor his parents sinned; it is so that the works of God might be made visible through him.”
In Jewish beliefs of the time, afflictions like blindness were seen as a punishment for sin – either the person’s own sin or possibly the sins of his parents. Maybe Bartimaeus even thought that he deserved to be blind. But like the good thief on the cross, his sinfulness did not stop him from asking for mercy. Neither should we.
When something happens in our life that we don’t understand, it always – ALWAYS – has the potential to showcase the works of God.
And so it is with Bartimaeus. In today’s Gospel, Bartimaeus recognizes that Jesus has the power to heal and so he calls to him for mercy. Those around him, maybe thinking he was getting what he deserved as a sinner, tried to quiet him. Yet he calls all the louder, “have pity on me.” When Jesus asks him "What do you want me to do for you?", he simply says, "Master, I want to see."
Notice that Bartimaeus doesn’t ask to be cured of his blindness directly. He asks to “see”, and while we might assume that that means being cured, it has an even deeper meaning when we realize that “seeing” also means “understanding.”
Jesus sees – he understands – that Bartimaeus has faith, and grants him his request. He tells Bartimaeus to “Go your way; your faith has saved you." What does Bartimaeus do? Did he go back to where he was?
No. Immediately he followed Jesus.
We must also be careful what we pray for. If, like Bartimaeus, we ask to see, we must be ready to embrace the responsibility for what we see.
In Bartimaeus’ case, think about what that must have meant for him. In his blindness, Bartimaeus probably had little responsibility beyond trying to meet his basic needs through begging. There would be little he could do for others, if for no other reason than he couldn’t “see” their needs.
But once his eyesight was restored, he would most likely not be able to use begging as an effective way to make a living any more. Despite the wretchedness of being blind, there was also a certain comfort level in the routine of his life, which was changed forever. He might be able to now “see” physically, but now he also needed to “see” with the eyes of faith. And just like he had faith that Jesus could heal his blindness, he had faith enough to know that the way he needed to go was to follow Jesus.
What a challenge for us! When we turn to God in order to understand – to see – what is happening around us or to us, we are also asking in faith to “see” the world through God’s eyes.
But in order for that to happen, we must first be willing to “see” the challenge – the cross – of whatever that we have asked God to help us understand, and then at least for an understanding of how it can serve God. And that isn’t easy.
BUT! If we call out like Bartimaeus, “Lord, I want to see" and our eyes are opened, then we then have the responsibility of seeing through the eyes of Jesus. We cannot remain blind to the suffering of others. We must allow our healing to lead to God’s Glory. We must be willing to follow Jesus.
Like the words of the song, “Open the eyes of my heart, Lord. I want to see You”, we are asking to look deeper into the will of God. And once our eyes are opened, then we must help others who are “blind” to see Jesus, too.
Sunday, September 12, 2021
A Future of Hope
Today’s Gospel presents us with the paradoxical reality of our Christian faith: Save our earthly life and risk losing eternity; or risk our earthly life and save our souls for all eternity. And there may be no better Gospel for us to reflect on today as this weekend we remember the tragic events that occurred 20 years ago, on September 11th, 2001.
Sadly, I’m a member of a generation that has seen the end of two major conflicts for our country – Vietnam and Afghanistan - neither with a great sense of victory. And while there are those who claim that the Afghanistan conflict was the longest war in our country’s history, it is not. There are still those alive who remember the Korean War, which started over 70 years ago and which, technically, has never ended as it remains under a truce - no peace treaty was ever signed.
But for us Christians, that is merely a drop in the bucket of time, for we have been at war for over 2000 years. In fact, as children of God we have been at war even longer than that - since beginning of creation. It is a spiritual war, not just physical. St. Paul points out in his letter to the Ephesians: “(O)ur struggle is not with flesh and blood, but with the principalities, with the powers, with the world rulers of this present darkness, with the evil spirits in the heavens.” (Eph 6:12)
THAT’S the real war.
Spiritual warfare is a different kind of battle, to be sure. And we are all engaged in it, whether we realize it or not. Pope St. John Paul II once said that “The only war that we must all fight is the one against evil.” We enlisted in that war when we first professed our discipleship to Christ and were baptized into our faith. How we fight that war is our real challenge. And the cost is steep – no less than our lives.
St. Mark reminds us of that in today’s Gospel, in which Jesus teaches us about the cost of discipleship and the price that we pay for our faith. He will be put to death for teaching love and peace; we too face threats to our earthly lives if we are to seek peace in our world. Jesus said, “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and that of the gospel will save it.” The price of victory is earthly death - and the reward is eternal life.
Wars always end in destruction and death – by their very nature they are contrary to nourishing life. And despite what people may say, no armed conflict has a “winner” – inevitably there are innocent lives lost on either side.
So what are we to do? Choose not fight? No, but we pick our battles, and we pray for God’s guidance in our decisions and actions, and strength to overcome the challenges we face.
And after the fight is over, we remember.
We remember what we were fighting for, whatever the battle. We remember those who we have lost, so that their sacrifice will not have been in vain. We remember that God is with us, so that we can hope for a brighter tomorrow.
Most importantly, we remember that Christ has already won the war.
In John’s Gospel, Jesus tells his disciples after they have promised their loyalty to him: “Do you now believe? The hour is coming, indeed it has come, when you will be scattered, every man to his home, and will leave me alone; yet I am not alone, for the Father is with me. I have said this to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.”
Shortly after it was declared that the war in Afghanistan was "officially" over and that all Americans were leaving that country, someone came up to me and expressed the opinion that all we did in Afghanistan was fruitless. I disagree. During the last twenty years, through the efforts of individuals – soldiers, aid workers, local caring citizens – the lives of many have been given a taste of hope, the promise of a future, an education – an opportunity to know Jesus and the Good News. It has not been perfect, but seeds were planted. And a world was made aware of the plights of the people who might otherwise be forgotten.
Did the world listen? Some did. The efforts of those helping those who are refugees fleeing from their homeland are true reflections of Christian faith. And as St. James points out, it is through our efforts, our works that others – and ourselves – are saved. “Faith, of itself, if it does not have works, is dead.” It is not an “either / or” decision, as some would have us believe. It is a “both / and” one. We are called to both faith and works together, according to God’s will.
Pope St. John Paul II said it well: “It is not enough to say we are Christians. We must live the faith, not only with our words, but with our actions.” If we have faith in God – if we trust Him – then it will show through our efforts to help and serve others. In times of conflict, in times of tribulation, in times of adversity, we must work for peace.
And God offers us hope and the promise of a better future, as seen in one of my favorite scripture passages by the prophet Jeremiah: “For I know well the plans I have in mind for you—says the LORD—plans for your welfare and not for woe, so as to give you a future of hope. When you call me, and come and pray to me, I will listen to you.” (Jeremiah 29:11-12)
That’s what God offers us – a future of hope. A future of joy. A future of peace.
Let me conclude with Pope Francis’ prayer from his 2015 visit to ground zero in New York, in memory of those who lost their lives in those tragic events 20 years ago in New York, in Pennsylvania and at the Pentagon – as well as those who have lived with the impact of those events even up to today. The prayer is appropriate also for those facing tragedy from natural disasters or other catastrophic events today as well:
“God of peace, bring your peace to our violent world: peace in the hearts of all men and women and peace among the nations of the earth.
Turn to your way of love those whose hearts and minds are consumed with hatred, and who justify killing in the name of religion.
God of understanding, overwhelmed by the magnitude of this tragedy, we seek your light and guidance as we confront such terrible events.
Grant that those whose lives were spared may live so that the lives lost may not have been lost in vain.
Comfort and console us, strengthen us in hope, and give us the wisdom and courage to work tirelessly for a world where true peace and love reign among nations and in the hearts of all.”
Amen.
Sunday, August 22, 2021
You Only Have to Believe
With today’s Gospel we hear the conclusion of St. John’s sixth chapter, which we have been reflecting on for the last several weeks. While the synoptic Gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke give us an understanding of the institution of the Eucharist through their accounts of the Last Supper, John gives us the spiritual insight to truly understand the meaning of the Eucharist itself, presented in Jesus’ own words.
First, a quick recap. Our Sunday Gospel readings began 5 weeks ago with Jesus feeding over 5,000 people with a few simple barley loaves of bread and a couple of fish. They continued the next week with Jesus walking on water, joining his disciples in the boat as they battled a stormy sea in the night. Then, three weeks ago, John introduced Jesus’ “Bread of Life” Discourse. Last week, since we celebrated the Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, we missed the middle of the Jews’ confrontation with Jesus over his command to “eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood”, but today, we hear the end of the exchange – resulting in many of Jesus’ disciples abandoning him.
Suppose you were alive at the time of Jesus, had seen many of his miraculous signs and heard his preaching. Then, all of a sudden you hear his insistence on having to “eat his flesh and drink his blood” in order to have eternal life. How would you react? Would you believe him? Would you understand what he meant?
In today’s Gospel, many didn’t understand nor believe. So why did the Apostles remain? Did they understand what Jesus was saying any better than any of the other disciples? I don’t think so.
So why didn’t they leave too? Simon Peter sums it up: “We have come to believe and are convinced that you are the Holy One of God.”
According to a 2019 Pew research report that is often quoted by Catholics and non-Catholics alike, only 31% of Catholics believe in the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist. Less than a third of all Catholics today believe in what the Church professes as the “source and summit” of our faith.
But there is a difference in believing and understanding.
The early Church Fathers had no problem believing in the Eucharist. St. Ignatius of Antioch, at the end of the 1st century, less than 100 years after Jesus’ resurrection, stated in a letter to the Romans, “I have no taste for corruptible food nor for the pleasures of this life. I desire the Bread of God, Which is the Flesh of Jesus Christ, who was of the seed of David; and for drink I Desire His Blood, which is love incorruptible.”
St. Justin the Martyr, describing the Eucharist in his First Apology about the same time, said: “For not as common bread nor common drink do we receive these; but since Jesus Christ our Savior was made incarnate by the word of God and had both flesh and blood for our salvation, so too, as we have been taught, the food which has been made into the Eucharist by the Eucharistic prayer set down by Him, and by the change of which our blood and flesh is nourished, is both the flesh and the blood of that Incarnated Jesus.”
St. Irenaeus of Lyons just a few years later, stated in his letter Against Heresies: “For as the bread from the earth, receiving the invocation of God, is no longer common bread but the Eucharist, consisting of two elements, earthly and heavenly.”
These are but a few examples by those early founders of the Church – and each died a martyr’s death because of their belief. Their belief in Jesus Christ – and their belief in the Eucharist.
Does that mean that they understood the spiritual mechanics of Transubstantiation? I don’t know, but I doubt it. Frankly, I’m the first to admit that I certainly cannot understand the power of God. But I’ve personally experienced miracles that have defied explanations and I have seen the power of God in action, so I don’t have to understand how or why God does what He does – but I believe.
Now I’m a scientist and an engineer at heart and while I can peer into the depths of the universe and see God’s infinite power at work, I cannot explain the mechanics of some of His simplest creations. But I’m fond of using analogies to explain to myself things I cannot understand, and I use a simple one for the Eucharist. Once upon a time I worked in the uranium mines in New Mexico, and there really wasn’t a lot of difference between uranium ore and the surrounding rock which contained it, at least visually. You could tell if you had a Geiger counter, but otherwise, they looked the same. But, if you take a piece of radioactive ore and place it beside something that isn’t, pretty soon the non-radioactive piece would become radioactive. It wouldn’t change visually, but it has changed nevertheless.
The bread and wine may not look or taste different, but infused by the Holy Spirit called down by the priest, they have changed. It’s a poor analogy, to be sure, but it works for me.
So we can choose to believe in the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist, even if we don’t understand how it happens. And if we believe, then our actions should reflect that belief. But do they? Sadly, often they don’t.
I would like to say that I’m amazed at how some people approach the Eucharist in Communion, but I’m not. I’ve been there myself. I’m actually more amazed by the respect shown by some who come forward to receive than by those who don’t. You see it in their eyes. There is a joy – a grace – that shines on their face, and there’s a sense of reverence in their presence. I see Jesus reflected through them. I want that for me.
But it sometimes seems that as soon as I leave the building, I lose that – presence – of Christ in me. I can lose it once I get into my truck and have to wait for parking lot traffic to clear. I can lose it when I change the focus of my thoughts on what I think I need to do immediately after Mass. And, if I’m not serving on the altar, I can lose it in the short time it takes me to return to my pew.
It’s tough, isn’t it? But we should strive to remember that, if we choose to believe, then we should act like we believe. And maybe the easiest way to do that is to pretend that we are carrying Jesus on our shoulders after we have received him. (Actually, it isn’t pretending, except that instead of on our shoulders close to our heads, we have him inside us, close to our hearts.) And if the thought of Jesus sitting on your shoulders isn’t enough to help you focus on his presence, then talk to him about it. Say to him, “Jesus, help me to overcome whatever it is that is distracting me from you.”
One last comment on today’s readings. While there’s often a direct link between the 1st reading and the Gospel on most Sundays, today I think there’s an even greater link between the 2nd reading from St. Paul’s letter to the Ephesians and today’s Gospel from St. John: they can both be hard to understand. But rather than try to explain what Paul was trying to say, I’m just going to refer you to a podcast by Fr. John Riccardo called “God’s Love Made Visible” – you can find it for free just by googling it. I encourage all married couples – and especially those planning on getting married – to listen to it. I’ve never heard this particular passage explained better. Ever.
And remember. When you come forward for Communion, you are coming forward to place Jesus next to your heart and to take him into the world with you. You don’t have to understand Transubstantiation to be a good Catholic. You only have to have faith – and believe.
Sunday, February 28, 2021
Overcoming The World
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
Do you remember those adages, those little sayings, that your mom would say to you over and over? Things like: “Don’t leave the door open – this isn’t a barn”; or "Don't run with scissors - you might fall and poke an eye out"; or "You have to wait at least an hour before you can swim"; or “You keep making that face and it’ll freeze like that.”
But one of my mom’s favorite, which used to bug the heck out of me, was, “Don’t worry. All things work out for the best.” Bad grade? Pfft. Study harder. Inability to play sports? No biggie, you’ll just be better at something else. Lost a girlfriend? Meh (Yeah, okay, she was right about that one.)
But what she said kind of paraphrases St. Paul’s message to the Romans in the verse which immediately precedes the verses from today’s 2nd reading: “We know that all things work for good for those who love God”. And given all that we have gone through this last year (and last week), I’d like to focus on the expanded message from St. Paul’s letter which includes today’s 2nd reading. The section is entitled “God’s Indomitable Love in Christ.”, and it begins like this:
28 "We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose. 29 For those he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, so that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. 30 And those he predestined he also called; and those he called he also justified; and those he justified he also glorified. 31 What then shall we say to this?"
See, St. Paul is talking to the Roman Christian community, which is struggling to embrace this new Christian faith in the middle of a multi-god, pagan world. Kind of like our world today. Then next comes this from today’s reading:
"If God is for us, who can be against us? 32 He who did not spare his own Son but handed him over for us all, how will he not also give us everything else along with him? 33 Who will bring a charge against God’s chosen ones? It is God who acquits us. 34 Who will condemn? It is Christ [Jesus] who died, rather, was raised, who also is at the right hand of God, who indeed intercedes for us."
So, despite the Roman community's persecution by friends and fellow citizens, God, through Christ, was at the forefront of their persecution and led the way for them, as he does for all of us. And then, finally this concludes that section:
35 "What will separate us from the love of Christ? Will anguish, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or the sword? 36 As it is written: “For your sake we are being slain all the day; we are looked upon as sheep to be slaughtered.” 37 No, in all these things we conquer overwhelmingly through him who loved us. 38 For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor present things, nor future things, nor powers, 39 nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord."
I know that, with everything that the world has experienced this last year – the ongoing coronavirus pandemic, the devastating fires on the west coast last summer, the huge number of hurricanes last fall, the massive ice and snow storm which struck the heartland of the South and East last week, just to name a few – it can seem like God has abandoned us, or that we are separated from His protection. And I would be truly hard-pressed to find how any of this could be considered “for the best” as my mom would say, especially for those of us who love God.
And maybe that’s the point.
Which leads us back to St. Paul. The challenges he lists – the anguish of sickness, the distress of the loss of a loved one, the unfair persecution at work, the famine or nakedness of exposure to financial trials through loss of a job, the peril of natural disasters or the threat of death through criminal actions – these are very real to each of us, especially during this last year. But they do NOT separate us from Christ, and we shouldn't let them – they should only draw us closer to Him.
Ultimately, what if any of these challenges does overwhelm us? Today’s Gospel holds the answer. During the transfiguration, Jesus converses with living beings including Moses and Elijah – who had obviously ended their mere earthly existence. And Abraham, the main actor in today’s first reading (other than God, of course), well, in John's Gospel Jesus states that “Abraham your father rejoiced to see my day; he saw it and was glad”, and it would be pretty hard for Abraham to rejoice if he was dead and gone.
Which brings us back to St. Paul. He is convinced that death, life, angels, principalities, present things, future things, powers, heights, depths, nor any other creature can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord, if we have faith.
If our goal in life is to finish it so that we spend an eternity with God, then it can be just as important in how we “fail” in overcoming these challenges as it is in if we overcome them. Ultimately, if we can face every challenge with faith – with love – focused on Jesus and what he did for us through his life, death AND resurrection, then we too WILL be united with Christ Jesus our Lord. For all eternity.
And in that, we will have overcome the world.
Sunday, January 17, 2021
Is That You, God?
Is That You, God?
January 17, 2021 2nd Sunday in Ordinary Time - B
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
I’m sure we all have our pet peeves - those things that we find particularly annoying. My pet peeve is – robocalls. You know the ones; the prerecorded messages trying to sell you something. Even though I am on every “do not call” list available, inevitably I will get a few of them every week. The worst? The ones that begin with “we have an important message for the owner of…”, or the ones which are in some sort of Asian dialect I can’t understand. Of course there are also the ones which threaten to arrest me if I don’t pay my fine with an Amazon gift card within the next 24 hours.
It is so bad that if I don’t recognize a phone number, I usually won’t answer the call and will let it go to voicemail. Unfortunately, every now and then I miss an important call where they do NOT leave a message. Especially if it is from some customer service department that I really need to speak with. And they rarely leave a call-back number; which leads us to today’s readings – answering God’s call.
“Speak Lord, for your servant is listening.”
How often have we used those words in our prayers? I mean, they are the words that are used most often to show a response to the call to discipleship – “Speak Lord, for your servant is LISTENING.”
But it can be really hard to hear God. God doesn’t shout at us, but He speaks to us in whispers. It’s not like we get a phone call or text message; and the last time I checked, Jesus hadn’t “friended” me on Facebook. I’m sure He doesn’t have a Twitter account, and I know He doesn’t follow me – I know all eight of those who do. Even if he did call, I’d probably not recognize the number and so would let it go directly to voicemail - and God is one of those I wouldn’t expect to leave a recorded message. (I saw the movie “Oh God” with George Burns and John Denver and nothing God said in court was on the recorder.) If he doesn’t reach out and touch me using the latest technology, how do I know He’s calling me?
Even if we think God is calling to us, those closest to us might not understand and misdirect us. In today’s first reading, Samuel hears God’s call but doesn’t know what it is so he turns to Eli, his boss – his mentor – thinking that it must be Eli who is calling to him in the middle of the night. Eli, a man of God whose life is focused on serving God, at first tells him to “go back to sleep”. I can understand. If my kid woke me up in the middle of the night saying, “Here I am, you called me”, I would respond in the same way, “You’re dreaming. Go back to sleep – and leave me alone.” (I still say that to my dogs when they wake me up, but then again I’m sure it’s Mother Nature and not Father God calling them).
But God is calling us. Every day. If we listen, we can hear Him in the stories we read, in the people we meet, in the things that we see.
Sure, there are lots of distractions in our lives that keep us from recognizing God’s call to us. Even in church: noisy distractions from children; cell phones that haven’t been turned off, and especially the noise in our heads from all those thoughts about what we need to do after Mass. We become impatient and our mind gets so busy that we forget that we are supposed to be listening for God - listening TO God.
In fact, do we even listen to ourselves when we pray? Sometimes we rattle off a Rosary like a machine gun: HailMaryFullOfGraceTheLordIsWithYou. A priest friend of mine tells a story about a man who wanted to buy a horse. He asks the owner if he would sell the horse and the owner says, “I’ll GIVE you the horse if you can say the Lord’s Prayer without interruption. The man replies, “OurFatherWhoArtInHeavenDoesTheSaddleComeWithTheHorse…”
Let’s face it. We live in a world today that is so full of distractions and noise and busy-ness that it takes an extra effort to hear God’s call. But if we just listen, we will.
So, how do we prepare ourselves to hear God’s Call?
By setting aside time to listen. Making time for spiritual reading. Meditating on Scriptures. Prayer. When we do these, we invite God to speak.
“Speak Lord, for your servant is listening.”
So we’ve invited God to speak to us, but do we really mean it? Are we really listening? Sometimes I think when we ask God that, we really don’t expect, or even want, an answer. I mean, it’s kind of like meeting a person and saying, “Hi, how are you?” If we’re even listening for a response – and frankly, most of the time I don’t think we do – we expect to hear, “Fine” or “OK”, or something equally quick and positive. But we’re uncomfortable hearing, “Terrible” or “Not so good.” We dread having someone launch into a long litany of complaints that hold us hostage, or that drag us down. Even worse than that is when we are asked to do something that makes us uncomfortable – to go somewhere, to give something, to help someone – to Make A Commitment.
But when we extend our invitation to God to speak, we are asking God exactly that, and God wants us to act like we mean it. Look at today’s Gospel. Jesus says, “Come and you will see” and they drop everything and go with Jesus. Jesus says, “Follow me”, and away they go.
How about you? Would you drop everything and walk away from it? Job, car, family – leave it all behind and head off with just the clothes on your back, to follow a charismatic preacher?
Maybe a more important question should be, “Does God require you to abandon everything in your life to follow Jesus?”
The answer is, “NO”. God has a plan for each of us. He has provided us with the gifts and the graces that He knows we need to accomplish that purpose, and He has placed us right where He wants us. But that doesn't mean that God isn’t calling to us to follow Him.
Pope Francis once said, to the effect, that being called doesn’t mean we have to change “who” we are, but how we use who we are to respond to God’s call.
And We MUST respond to that call.
Opportunities abound for us to respond. There are many opportunities through St. Paul’s various ministries to serve God, even during these trying times. There are stories in the news every day calling to us. But in order to know how to respond, we must first listen to God.
You know, being “Called” doesn’t just mean that God is telling us to do something. Think about when we “call” someone. It isn’t just to tell them to do something; we call them to see how they are doing; we call them to share something good that has happened to us or to someone we know; we call to ask them a question or for guidance. Maybe we call just to tell them we love them. God’s call to us is all of these – and more.
And one of God’s most important calls is the Mass. It is a celebration of God’s Love for us, and it is an opportunity for us to share His stories and to listen for God’s personal messages to us. While right now it is difficult to gather as a family, we must fight the tendency to think of the Church as a place that we are obligated to go to instead of a family that we belong to. Even during the trials of social distancing and live-streamed services, we can still share God’s love. Like a family, our church communities can be messy, demanding – sometimes boring – but we should never forget that we are bound together with Love – God’s love.
But what if you are alone? You are still part of the body of Christ, and maybe the call you receive from God will be to reach out to others who are lonely too. You’d visit a family member who was sick, wouldn’t you? Even if you cannot be there physically because of social distancing, you can still "reach out and touch someone," like the old AT&T commercials used to say. The number one illness in our country today is not the coronavirus, but loneliness, and with the isolation imposed upon us by the pandemic, it is worse than ever. Do not be afraid to answer the call to love. Share your love with your family, your friends, even strangers.
God often calls at what appears to be an inconvenient time, but He always calls us out of Love, and His call is always important. If we are preoccupied, if we are not listening, we may miss His call, His message. So take time to LISTEN.
And then be ready and say, “Speak Lord, for your servant is listening.”