Lost and Found
Homily for September 11, 2016 Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary - C
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
Have you ever been lost? I don’t mean the kind where you weren’t given good directions to go somewhere. In that case it’s usually your destination that’s lost. You’re not lost – not really. You know where you are, even if you don’t know where you are going. It’s kind of like the signs you see in the mall with the red “X’s” that say, “You are here.” You know where you need to go, and while you may need to look up your destination, at least you know where you’re at.
I’m talking about the kind of “being lost” that comes when you don’t know where you are or which way to go; the kind of “lost” that leaves you with a feeling of total helplessness. It’s the kind of “lost” that causes you to be afraid, or worse, panicked to the point of despair. The kind of “lost” where you don’t know what to do or where to turn. The kind of “lost” where you feel all alone.
I think we’ve all experienced that feeling at times during our lives. Maybe we’ve been traveling someplace where we’ve never been before, like a foreign country, and lost our way. Or maybe our car has broken down and we’re miles from help. It’s not so bad if someone’s with us, but if we’re alone, then the fear – even panic – can set in. I’ve been there.
And I don’t mean just physically lost. There are times in our lives where something happens that we aren’t prepared for: the loss of a job; a serious illness; a sudden death. Something goes terribly wrong – at work, at home, at school, or even in the world at large – and we don’t know where to turn for help. That’s the sense of being lost because we don’t know where to go or what to do. And that sense of “being lost” is magnified when we believe we have to face it all alone.
Many of you may have felt that way 15 years ago this weekend. On September 11th, 2001, our lives were forever changed when a small group of people, guided by hatred, stole the lives of almost 3000 people and left tens of thousands of others “lost”. Many still carry the scars, even if they don’t necessarily feel “lost” anymore.
Now, there’s a whole new generation that only know of 9/11 through the stories they’ve heard, movies on TV and pictures in their history books. I can understand what that’s like, as that’s how I remember Pearl Harbor from 50 years before. But the wars and prejudices, the hatreds and the … evil … still exist in our world today and, while the immediate sense of being lost from those earlier events may have faded, there will always be those times when something happens, dividing us and leaving us once again feeling lost and abandoned.
And when we have nowhere else to turn, when we think we’ve been abandoned, it is then that we ask ourselves, “Where is God?” And God answers us, “I am here.”
In today’s Gospel, Jesus gives us three examples of how God responds to our being lost: the first is about a lost sheep, the second is about a lost coin, and finally the one about a lost child. Each story tells us of how God is there for us.
In the parable of the lost sheep, Jesus tells us that God is searching for those who may not even know they are lost – the lost sheep has wandered away from the safety of the flock and may not even know it’s in danger. Through His Church, God reaches out to those lost souls, first taking to them His Love and His Mercy, and in turn bringing them back to eternal life.
The second story tells us that even the least of us is valuable to God. No matter how small and insignificant we may think we are or that, since God has all the rest of the world who are better than we are, why would He need us? He still searches for us because we are VALUABLE to Him. We are a product of His love and He doesn’t want even one of us to become “lost”.
Finally, we have the story of the prodigal son. We’re all very familiar with this parable and the story is rich in many metaphors of our lives, but today I want to stress that for those of us who KNOW that God is out there, those of us who have deliberately turned our back on His love, He is STILL waiting for us. And we don’t have to come all the way, or grovel, or beg for His Love. His Love is there, it has always been there, it will always be there. He is telling us, “You are NOT Alone.”
And while it sometimes appears that we are lost, it only appears that way to us. God ALWAYS knows where we are, and He gives us so many ways to find our way home to Him. One of the best is the gift of the Sacrament of Reconciliation – Confession. All we have to do is turn to Him and He will come running for us.
So, whenever we feel lost, especially to the point of despair, and we are overwhelmed with the evils of the world around us and don’t know where to turn or what to do, we need to remember that God is with us. And when we don’t think that we’re going in the right direction, if we just follow Jesus, He will lead us to our final destination.
One final thought. There is a song that is popular right now called, “Trust in You” by Lauren Daigle. The lyrics go something like this:
When You don’t move the mountains I’m needing You to move /
When You don’t part the waters I wish I could walk through /
When You don’t give the answers as I cry out to You /
I will trust, I will trust, I will trust in You!…
When you think you are lost, turn to Jesus. It doesn’t matter if it is over something as small as failing a test in school or something as large as facing the loss of health or even life. God will not abandon us.
Sister Faustina said, “Jesus, I Trust in You.” And so we sing, as we face the unknown evils of our current world:
Jesus, I will Trust in You.
Sunday, September 11, 2016
Sunday, August 28, 2016
Oh Lord, It's Hard to be Humble
Oh Lord, It's Hard to be Humble
Homily for August 28, 2016 Twenty-second Sunday of Ordinary - C
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
Today’s readings are about humility, and they make me think about a somewhat spiritual country and western song that was popular when I was in college. I’m sure many of you remember it, even if it was written before your time. I’ll bet you could even finish the chorus: “Oh Lord it's hard to be humble / When you're perfect in every way.” (I can't wait to look in the mirror. / Cause I get better-looking each day.) Yep, Mac Davis’ little ditty actually made it into the top 10 in 1980.
I know it seems silly, but there’s a lot of spiritual truth in this song. Oh, I don’t mean the part about getting better-looking each time we look into a mirror – we all know better than that. But the part about it being hard to be humble – we might as well say it’s almost impossible to be humble all the time. Or, even most of the time. Why is that?
Well, we don’t see very many examples of humility in our world today – it’s very pride-oriented. All we have to do is look at the egos of those running for political office, or the actions of many of the people in professional sports or the entertainment industry to see powerful egos at work. (Not everyone – there are a FEW humble sports figures.) And we want to share in their glory – we say that we are PROUD to be Americans or we seek to join groups or organization that we think are important to others.
And we are proud of the accomplishments of our children, or even of our friends and co-workers; and we often equate pride with that good feeling we get whenever we do something good for someone else. Is that so bad? Can we be humble while still feeling pride in ourselves or those around us? Yes, if we recognize the source as coming from God.
In his book, “How to be Somebody”, Mark Mendes points out that the virtue of humility can be especially difficult to develop since it requires us to overcome the vice of pride, the deadliest of the seven deadly sins. And Mendes’ book is full of examples of how the saints and others lived humble lives and it has many prayers and quotes from them on how they worked be humble before God. If humility is the opposite of pride, then we must find ways to become humble. Jesus points out over and over again that humility is the key to get into heaven.
But most of us want to be a SOMEBODY. And while I’m sure we’ve all done things we are NOT proud of, each of us usually has at least one thing in our life that we brag about, whether it is something to do with what we have or what we’ve done. And we often depend on recognition of our accomplishments to get ahead and “succeed” in the world. Often our sense of self-worth comes from whatever it is that we are “proud” of.
It IS hard to be humble. But, we are NOT perfect. And we need to work at overcoming our pride. In today’s Gospel, Jesus gives us two lessons in humility that we can learn from – one has to do with who we think we ARE and how we think we should be treated, and one about rewards for what we DO and how we should treat others.
The first, the example of the seating at a banquet, is a warning about having a false sense of self-worth, of thinking too much of ourselves in comparison with others. When we go out somewhere, don’t we position ourselves in relation to others, especially as a group – maybe because we want to sit beside someone? Or, do we become indignant when someone cuts in front of us in line at a store, or cuts us off driving? How often do we resent how we are treated by others because it isn’t FAIR or they don’t understand “our” rights? If things don’t go our way do we become embarrassed or angry? When we judge ourselves in relationship to others and how they treat us and we don’t recognize that our true value in life comes from being a child of God, then we risk becoming angry or resentful; or worse, we risk entering into a state of depression or despair whenever our false sense of self-worth fails us.
The second example is one of earning rewards. When we do something good for someone else, don’t we want someone to say “thank you” or make some other kind of acknowledgment of our actions? Jesus is warning us about becoming part of a “mutual admiration society” where we exchange “gifts” with those who really don’t benefit from them while those who are in need go without. While we are created equal in the eyes of God, we are not created equal in our earthly situations. God expects us whom He has blessed to help others in need, and if we focus on gaining earthly rewards, then we risk losing our heavenly ones.
I wonder – are the saints horrified when we name something after them? How many buildings should be named, “Anonymous”? In one of the many biographies of Mother Teresa, who will be canonized next Sunday, she said that she was always worried that people would think too highly of her and her accomplishments. She always said that it wasn’t her; that it was God who accomplished everything and she just happened to be the poor instrument that He used at times. Do we have that same attitude of acknowledgment to God whenever we do something that deserves recognition?
There is prayer called The Litany of Humility. It is divided into three parts: in the first we pray for Jesus’ help to overcome our desires; in the second we for Jesus’ help to overcome our fears; and in the third we pray for grace to desire actions of humility. I hate the prayer because it makes me very uncomfortable, but maybe that’s the first step for me to become more humble. Maybe it can help you, too. “The Litany of Humility.”
Mac Davis’ song ends with, “But I’m doing the best that I can.” That is our challenge; that is the question we must ask ourselves: Are we doing the best that we can? With God’s help and Mercy, we can.
Homily for August 28, 2016 Twenty-second Sunday of Ordinary - C
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
Today’s readings are about humility, and they make me think about a somewhat spiritual country and western song that was popular when I was in college. I’m sure many of you remember it, even if it was written before your time. I’ll bet you could even finish the chorus: “Oh Lord it's hard to be humble / When you're perfect in every way.” (I can't wait to look in the mirror. / Cause I get better-looking each day.) Yep, Mac Davis’ little ditty actually made it into the top 10 in 1980.
I know it seems silly, but there’s a lot of spiritual truth in this song. Oh, I don’t mean the part about getting better-looking each time we look into a mirror – we all know better than that. But the part about it being hard to be humble – we might as well say it’s almost impossible to be humble all the time. Or, even most of the time. Why is that?
Well, we don’t see very many examples of humility in our world today – it’s very pride-oriented. All we have to do is look at the egos of those running for political office, or the actions of many of the people in professional sports or the entertainment industry to see powerful egos at work. (Not everyone – there are a FEW humble sports figures.) And we want to share in their glory – we say that we are PROUD to be Americans or we seek to join groups or organization that we think are important to others.
And we are proud of the accomplishments of our children, or even of our friends and co-workers; and we often equate pride with that good feeling we get whenever we do something good for someone else. Is that so bad? Can we be humble while still feeling pride in ourselves or those around us? Yes, if we recognize the source as coming from God.
In his book, “How to be Somebody”, Mark Mendes points out that the virtue of humility can be especially difficult to develop since it requires us to overcome the vice of pride, the deadliest of the seven deadly sins. And Mendes’ book is full of examples of how the saints and others lived humble lives and it has many prayers and quotes from them on how they worked be humble before God. If humility is the opposite of pride, then we must find ways to become humble. Jesus points out over and over again that humility is the key to get into heaven.
But most of us want to be a SOMEBODY. And while I’m sure we’ve all done things we are NOT proud of, each of us usually has at least one thing in our life that we brag about, whether it is something to do with what we have or what we’ve done. And we often depend on recognition of our accomplishments to get ahead and “succeed” in the world. Often our sense of self-worth comes from whatever it is that we are “proud” of.
It IS hard to be humble. But, we are NOT perfect. And we need to work at overcoming our pride. In today’s Gospel, Jesus gives us two lessons in humility that we can learn from – one has to do with who we think we ARE and how we think we should be treated, and one about rewards for what we DO and how we should treat others.
The first, the example of the seating at a banquet, is a warning about having a false sense of self-worth, of thinking too much of ourselves in comparison with others. When we go out somewhere, don’t we position ourselves in relation to others, especially as a group – maybe because we want to sit beside someone? Or, do we become indignant when someone cuts in front of us in line at a store, or cuts us off driving? How often do we resent how we are treated by others because it isn’t FAIR or they don’t understand “our” rights? If things don’t go our way do we become embarrassed or angry? When we judge ourselves in relationship to others and how they treat us and we don’t recognize that our true value in life comes from being a child of God, then we risk becoming angry or resentful; or worse, we risk entering into a state of depression or despair whenever our false sense of self-worth fails us.
The second example is one of earning rewards. When we do something good for someone else, don’t we want someone to say “thank you” or make some other kind of acknowledgment of our actions? Jesus is warning us about becoming part of a “mutual admiration society” where we exchange “gifts” with those who really don’t benefit from them while those who are in need go without. While we are created equal in the eyes of God, we are not created equal in our earthly situations. God expects us whom He has blessed to help others in need, and if we focus on gaining earthly rewards, then we risk losing our heavenly ones.
I wonder – are the saints horrified when we name something after them? How many buildings should be named, “Anonymous”? In one of the many biographies of Mother Teresa, who will be canonized next Sunday, she said that she was always worried that people would think too highly of her and her accomplishments. She always said that it wasn’t her; that it was God who accomplished everything and she just happened to be the poor instrument that He used at times. Do we have that same attitude of acknowledgment to God whenever we do something that deserves recognition?
There is prayer called The Litany of Humility. It is divided into three parts: in the first we pray for Jesus’ help to overcome our desires; in the second we for Jesus’ help to overcome our fears; and in the third we pray for grace to desire actions of humility. I hate the prayer because it makes me very uncomfortable, but maybe that’s the first step for me to become more humble. Maybe it can help you, too. “The Litany of Humility.”
Mac Davis’ song ends with, “But I’m doing the best that I can.” That is our challenge; that is the question we must ask ourselves: Are we doing the best that we can? With God’s help and Mercy, we can.
Saturday, August 13, 2016
A Religious War
A Religious War
Homily for August 14, 2016 Twentieth Sunday of Ordinary - C
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
Today’s Gospel is short and - maybe – not so sweet. Jesus is saying that there will be division in the world for those who follow Him. And we only have to turn to the news to see that even today, he’s STILL right.
Pope Francis said two weeks ago that the world IS at war, but not a religious war. ISIS disagreed, responding to the pope’s comments that he is naïve and that from their perspective, it IS a religious war. Which is right?
Maybe both.
Pope Francis is right when he says that wars, despite what a person may claim, are usually about someone (or a group of someones) that want something that someone else has – whether it is money or resources, or power – and are willing to resort to violence to obtain it. And ISIS is only the most recent group in our long history that has used religion as an excuse to obtain what they want – their own way.
But in reality, for true Christians there is only one true “religious” war, and it is fought daily by individuals against themselves. It is the ages-old battle that we often refer to as being between Good and Evil – and I don’t mean between Jesus and the Devil. Oh, don’t get me wrong, the Devil does exist, and when he takes sides, he isn’t on the side of Good. But for each of us the true religious war lies in deciding which of two gods we will follow – the One True God, or a false god. And there is only one false god, and it's not Satan. It’s the god that we see whenever we look in a mirror. It is either God’s way or our way, and we try to make ourselves into gods when we decide not to follow God's Will. All of the wars and divisions and hatred and greed and pride and any of the other deadly forces we face are the result of wanting things our own way.
That’s the division Jesus is speaking of today. And if everyone truly followed the teachings of Jesus - of love, of obedience, of mercy - then there would be no wars – there would be no need for them.
But we refuse to follow Jesus, and so, we are at war. As Christians we must be defenders of our faith when attacked, whether that be from terrorists from half-way around the world with warped ideologies, or from those closest to us in our families and workplaces. As Christians versus the rest of the world, however, there has to be a difference in our approach to the battle – like the original old hippies’ 1960’s anti-war slogan: Love not war. (It wasn’t “make love not war”, despite what some might think.) To be a Christian, our approach to battle has to be one of love and mercy. One of peace and not violence. One of sacrifice.
But not everyone believes as Christians should, and so we are a house divided. That's how Jesus describes it: A House Divided. And then Jesus makes it even more personal: it's father against son; mother against daughter. (In-laws against out-laws? – uh, nevermind.)
For those of us who have children who have left the Church, or family members or friends who have left the faith, this Gospel passage strikes at our hearts. We love and care for our children, our family, our friends, and yet they won’t listen to us! They have NO respect!
I mean, just look at the kids today. They almost all have cell phones and, if they still watch TV, it’s probably because they have one in their bedroom. We blame their bad manners and lack of respect for us and other authoritarian figures like teachers and police officers on the media and we claim that they are tuned out because of computer games and texting and social media. Reminds me of a quote I once heard:
“The children now love luxury; they have bad manners, contempt for authority; they show disrespect for elders and love chatter in place of exercise. Children are now tyrants, not the servants of their households. They no longer rise when elders enter the room. They contradict their parents, chatter before company, gobble up dainties at the table, cross their legs, and tyrannize their teachers.”
(By the way, for those of you who didn’t figure it out, that quote comes from Socrates, approximately 400 years before Christ walked the earth.) Nothing new here - some things never change.
But we really do want them to save them, right? And as good Catholics, we see in our faith the way to salvation. And so we must be strong in our faith. And if we are to be strong in our faith, we must be on FIRE for our faith.
Do you consider yourself on fire for your faith? If not, why? What would it take to light a fire within you? To make you STRONG in your faith?
Many of you have been watching the Olympics in Rio, and you know that in order to compete at that level, there is one thing they must do – PRACTICE. They practice in their field because they believe in their ability to compete. And so it should be with us. We must PRACTICE our faith in order to compete well against the challenges that we face.
As we begin a new school year, St. Paul’s has many, many opportunities for you to grow stronger in your faith, but it will take more than just the one hour at Mass on Sunday. Become a member in one of the many organizations here like Catholic Daughters, the Men’s Club, Knights of Columbus, the Women’s Guild, and VOLUNTEER whenever the opportunity arises. Spend at least one additional hour each week participating in something beyond the hour you spend at Mass. And if you REALLY want to help set the world on fire for Christ, set YOURSELF on fire through participating in our upcoming ACTS retreat.
But for next week, I want you to put your faith to work and try something. Invite a family member or friend who has fallen away from the Church to come to Mass with you. Invite your children – those older ones you can’t force to come with you – and bribe them with lunch or dinner or SOMETHING if you have to. They may say, "no", but you can and must keep trying. It may be the spark they need to start a fire in their soul.
And it may help enkindle that fire within you, too.
Homily for August 14, 2016 Twentieth Sunday of Ordinary - C
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
Today’s Gospel is short and - maybe – not so sweet. Jesus is saying that there will be division in the world for those who follow Him. And we only have to turn to the news to see that even today, he’s STILL right.
Pope Francis said two weeks ago that the world IS at war, but not a religious war. ISIS disagreed, responding to the pope’s comments that he is naïve and that from their perspective, it IS a religious war. Which is right?
Maybe both.
Pope Francis is right when he says that wars, despite what a person may claim, are usually about someone (or a group of someones) that want something that someone else has – whether it is money or resources, or power – and are willing to resort to violence to obtain it. And ISIS is only the most recent group in our long history that has used religion as an excuse to obtain what they want – their own way.
But in reality, for true Christians there is only one true “religious” war, and it is fought daily by individuals against themselves. It is the ages-old battle that we often refer to as being between Good and Evil – and I don’t mean between Jesus and the Devil. Oh, don’t get me wrong, the Devil does exist, and when he takes sides, he isn’t on the side of Good. But for each of us the true religious war lies in deciding which of two gods we will follow – the One True God, or a false god. And there is only one false god, and it's not Satan. It’s the god that we see whenever we look in a mirror. It is either God’s way or our way, and we try to make ourselves into gods when we decide not to follow God's Will. All of the wars and divisions and hatred and greed and pride and any of the other deadly forces we face are the result of wanting things our own way.
That’s the division Jesus is speaking of today. And if everyone truly followed the teachings of Jesus - of love, of obedience, of mercy - then there would be no wars – there would be no need for them.
But we refuse to follow Jesus, and so, we are at war. As Christians we must be defenders of our faith when attacked, whether that be from terrorists from half-way around the world with warped ideologies, or from those closest to us in our families and workplaces. As Christians versus the rest of the world, however, there has to be a difference in our approach to the battle – like the original old hippies’ 1960’s anti-war slogan: Love not war. (It wasn’t “make love not war”, despite what some might think.) To be a Christian, our approach to battle has to be one of love and mercy. One of peace and not violence. One of sacrifice.
But not everyone believes as Christians should, and so we are a house divided. That's how Jesus describes it: A House Divided. And then Jesus makes it even more personal: it's father against son; mother against daughter. (In-laws against out-laws? – uh, nevermind.)
For those of us who have children who have left the Church, or family members or friends who have left the faith, this Gospel passage strikes at our hearts. We love and care for our children, our family, our friends, and yet they won’t listen to us! They have NO respect!
I mean, just look at the kids today. They almost all have cell phones and, if they still watch TV, it’s probably because they have one in their bedroom. We blame their bad manners and lack of respect for us and other authoritarian figures like teachers and police officers on the media and we claim that they are tuned out because of computer games and texting and social media. Reminds me of a quote I once heard:
“The children now love luxury; they have bad manners, contempt for authority; they show disrespect for elders and love chatter in place of exercise. Children are now tyrants, not the servants of their households. They no longer rise when elders enter the room. They contradict their parents, chatter before company, gobble up dainties at the table, cross their legs, and tyrannize their teachers.”
(By the way, for those of you who didn’t figure it out, that quote comes from Socrates, approximately 400 years before Christ walked the earth.) Nothing new here - some things never change.
But we really do want them to save them, right? And as good Catholics, we see in our faith the way to salvation. And so we must be strong in our faith. And if we are to be strong in our faith, we must be on FIRE for our faith.
Do you consider yourself on fire for your faith? If not, why? What would it take to light a fire within you? To make you STRONG in your faith?
Many of you have been watching the Olympics in Rio, and you know that in order to compete at that level, there is one thing they must do – PRACTICE. They practice in their field because they believe in their ability to compete. And so it should be with us. We must PRACTICE our faith in order to compete well against the challenges that we face.
As we begin a new school year, St. Paul’s has many, many opportunities for you to grow stronger in your faith, but it will take more than just the one hour at Mass on Sunday. Become a member in one of the many organizations here like Catholic Daughters, the Men’s Club, Knights of Columbus, the Women’s Guild, and VOLUNTEER whenever the opportunity arises. Spend at least one additional hour each week participating in something beyond the hour you spend at Mass. And if you REALLY want to help set the world on fire for Christ, set YOURSELF on fire through participating in our upcoming ACTS retreat.
But for next week, I want you to put your faith to work and try something. Invite a family member or friend who has fallen away from the Church to come to Mass with you. Invite your children – those older ones you can’t force to come with you – and bribe them with lunch or dinner or SOMETHING if you have to. They may say, "no", but you can and must keep trying. It may be the spark they need to start a fire in their soul.
And it may help enkindle that fire within you, too.
Saturday, July 23, 2016
Asking for the Holy Spirit
Asking for the Holy Spirit
Homily for July 24, 2016 Seventeenth Sunday of Ordinary - C
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
What would you do if you won the lottery? A BIG one – like the 1.6 billion dollar Powerball last January. OK, so that one was split three ways but still, half a billion dollars is a LOT of money, and if you had all that money, what is the first thing that you’d want for yourself? (I mean, after paying off your bills, of course, And giving St. Paul’s ten percent of your winnings – after taxes.) In other words, if money was no object, what’s the ONE thing that you want most of all? A new car? A new house? Some other expensive toy?
But, maybe what you want can’t be bought with any amount of money. Maybe you’re fighting health issues, and you just want them to go away – an end to the suffering or to get healing for an illness that others have said is incurable?
Or maybe what you really want is something that you don’t think you could ever get, or that you even deserve. Maybe it’s just something as simple as having someone to love, or someone to love you?
I really want you to think seriously about this for a moment - if you asked God for ONE thing for yourself today, what would it be?
Now – I want you to ask yourself another question: “WHY”? Why do I want a new car or a new house or for the pain to go away or to live longer – or whatever it is that you want? I’m sure that whatever it is, you have a good reason for wanting it, but since you want it, you obviously don’t have it. So, ask yourself, why do I want this one thing over anything else?
Now, hold onto that thought for a few minutes.
Today’s Gospel from Luke is one that’s often quoted by those who proclaim the “Gospel of Prosperity”. Others passages include:
- Matthew, chapter 7, verse 11: “If you then, who are wicked, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give good things to those who ask him” and Matthew, chapter 21, verse 22: “Whatever you ask for in prayer with faith, you will receive.”
- Or, Mark, chapter 11, verse 24: “Therefore I tell you, all that you ask for in prayer, believe that you will receive it and it shall be yours.”
- Or in the Gospel of John, chapter 14, verse 14: “If you ask anything of me in my name, I will do it”; and John, chapter 15, verse 7: “If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask for whatever you want and it will be done for you.”
According to these scripture passages, if you pray hard enough, you should get what you ask for, right? Maybe not. I didn’t win that big Lottery jackpot in January, and I even bought a ticket and prayed about it. So I guess I didn’t pray hard enough? Or maybe God knew it wouldn't be good for me.
In any case, let’s take a closer look at today’s Gospel reading. It begins with Jesus’ disciples asking him how to pray, and Jesus teaching them a shortened form of the Lord’s Prayer. (The “Our Father that we usually pray comes from Matthew’s Gospel). But look at how today’s Gospel ends: “how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him?”
The answer to everything we need or want lies in the precious gift that God wants to give us: the gift of His Holy Spirit – the gift of Himself. And if we look at what Jesus is telling His disciples from that perspective, we see that the other gifts that God offers us through His Holy Spirit are far greater than mere cars or houses or money or even health.
Do you remember the 7 Gifts of the Holy Spirit and the 12 Fruits of the Holy Spirit from your CCD or faith formation classes? I’m embarrassed to say that I have to usually look them up. The 7 gifts are: Knowledge. Understanding. Wisdom. Counsel. Courage. Piety. Awe and Wonder of the Lord. And the 12 fruits are: Peace, Joy, Love, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Generosity, Gentleness, Faithfulness, Modesty, Chastity, and Self-control. These are the Good Gifts that God has in store for us, available to us if we just ask.
Why are these gifts so valuable? Why should we want them instead of wealth, health or power? How do they answer the question of “what’s the one thing I want most?”
Because if you think about the question I asked you earlier, “Why do I want what I want?”, we find that it is because we are lacking in one or more of these Gifts. We want what we want because we don’t have what we need – peace, joy, love, courage, wisdom – and so on. We mistakenly think that more money, or better health, or earthly hookups will satisfy us, and they don’t.
But, God knows what we need, and He wants to give it all to us. Like we hear in the classic Rolling Stone’s song, “You can't always get what you want / But if you try sometimes you might find / You get what you need." If we pray for the Holy Spirit, then we'll get what we need, for all we really need is the Holy Spirit, and with it comes an inner peace and joy which fills our longings and leads to a holiness that bring us closer to God.
One final thought. In order for our prayers to be answered we need to pray with persistence. Persistence in prayer isn’t just us knocking on God’s door with a list of our earthly wants, but it is about helping us come to a better understanding of what we need. And, with that understanding – that wisdom – we also come to recognize that God indeed answers our prayers. We only have to accept those gifts that He offers us so that we can also experience the one Gift we need most: His Love.
Wednesday, July 20, 2016
A Litany For Our Nation
A Litany For Our Nation - the rest of the story...
I came across this prayer the other day as I was mucking out my garage. Thirty minutes after I found and read it, I heard the report of the shooting in Louisiana where three more police officers were gunned down. Now, more than ever, we need to pray for our country.
I don't know where I originally got this, but a search of the Internet provided the following:
The prayer card itself is of my own design. Please consider praying the litany daily for at least the next 9 days. I've created the prayer "card" below in case you would like to print it out for any group that you belong to.
A LITANY FOR THE NATION
Almighty God, giver of all good things: We thank You for the natural majesty and beauty of this land. They restore us, though we often destroy them.
Heal us.
We thank You for the great resources of this nation. They make us rich, though we often exploit them.
Forgive us.
We thank You for the men and women who have made this country strong. They are models for us, though we often fall short of them.
Inspire us.
We thank You for the torch of liberty which has been lit in this land. It has drawn people from every nation, though we have often hidden from its light.
Enlighten us.
We thank You for the men and women who serve us as first responders – police officers, fire fighters and emergency response personnel – and for the service personnel in the various branches of our military. They offer their lives for our protection, though we are often ungrateful and disrespectful.
Protect us.
We thank You for the faith we have inherited in all its rich variety. It sustains our life, though we have been faithless again and again.
Renew us.
O Lord our Governor, bless the leaders of our land, that we may be a people at peace among ourselves and a blessing to other nations of the earth.
Lord, keep this nation under Your care.
Teach our people to rely on Your strength and to accept their responsibilities to their fellow citizens, that they may elect trustworthy leaders and make wise decisions for the well-being of our society; that we may serve You faithfully in our generation and honor Your Holy Name. For Yours is the kingdom, O Lord.
And You are exalted as head above all.
Help us, O Lord, to finish the good work here begun. Strengthen our efforts to blot out ignorance and prejudice, and to abolish poverty and crime. And hasten the day when all our people, with many voices in one united chorus, will glorify Your Holy Name.
Amen.
I came across this prayer the other day as I was mucking out my garage. Thirty minutes after I found and read it, I heard the report of the shooting in Louisiana where three more police officers were gunned down. Now, more than ever, we need to pray for our country.
I don't know where I originally got this, but a search of the Internet provided the following:
"Below is an adaptation of the litany used at the Cathedral Church of
St. Peter and St. Paul (National Cathedral) in Washington, D.C. at the
celebration of Independence Day on Sunday, July 2, 1995. The litany
itself is based on the Common Book of Prayer's Thanksgiving for the
Nation and Prayer for Sound Government."
The prayer card itself is of my own design. Please consider praying the litany daily for at least the next 9 days. I've created the prayer "card" below in case you would like to print it out for any group that you belong to.
Almighty God, giver of all good things: We thank You for the natural majesty and beauty of this land. They restore us, though we often destroy them.
Heal us.
We thank You for the great resources of this nation. They make us rich, though we often exploit them.
Forgive us.
We thank You for the men and women who have made this country strong. They are models for us, though we often fall short of them.
Inspire us.
We thank You for the torch of liberty which has been lit in this land. It has drawn people from every nation, though we have often hidden from its light.
Enlighten us.
We thank You for the men and women who serve us as first responders – police officers, fire fighters and emergency response personnel – and for the service personnel in the various branches of our military. They offer their lives for our protection, though we are often ungrateful and disrespectful.
Protect us.
We thank You for the faith we have inherited in all its rich variety. It sustains our life, though we have been faithless again and again.
Renew us.
O Lord our Governor, bless the leaders of our land, that we may be a people at peace among ourselves and a blessing to other nations of the earth.
Lord, keep this nation under Your care.
Teach our people to rely on Your strength and to accept their responsibilities to their fellow citizens, that they may elect trustworthy leaders and make wise decisions for the well-being of our society; that we may serve You faithfully in our generation and honor Your Holy Name. For Yours is the kingdom, O Lord.
And You are exalted as head above all.
Help us, O Lord, to finish the good work here begun. Strengthen our efforts to blot out ignorance and prejudice, and to abolish poverty and crime. And hasten the day when all our people, with many voices in one united chorus, will glorify Your Holy Name.
Amen.
Sunday, July 10, 2016
Who's My Neighbor?
Who's My Neighbor?
Homily for July 10, 2016 Fifteenth Sunday of Ordinary - C
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
If someone asked you, “Who’s your neighbor?” what’s the first thing that comes to your mind? (Besides someone being mugged and left for dead?) Is it the person who lives next door to you or on the same street? How about your co-workers? Or, for those of you who have children, how about the parents of a child that shares a class with yours?
Or, how about the person that share’s your faith? Look around – go ahead – would you consider the person who is sitting close to you to be your neighbor?
I think you get the idea. Our word “neighbor” comes from the Old English word “nēah-gebūr” - nēah, or near, and gebūr, or dweller, and so we might consider those who live or work or close to us as neighbors. We might also consider people that we associate with, or those that we at least share a common interest with, as neighbors. And that was exactly the perspective of Jews at the time of Jesus. Neighbors were those closest to them.
In a sense, I come to you today as your new neighbor. My name is Bob Bonomi and I will be serving you as one of your deacons. I’m originally from northern Idaho, and growing up I was typical of many cradle Catholics – I’d go to church for Christmas and Easter sometimes but I wandered away from my faith – so those of you whose children have wandered from the Church, there is still hope for them. Remember, God works miracles every day. I didn’t come back to the Church in earnest until about 1990, after a particular difficult period in my life.
I moved to Texas the first time in the summer of 1980 as an engineer and computer specialist – in the middle of the 100-year heat wave – and I discovered that Texans don’t outright lie, they just don’t tell all of the truth. When I interviewed for the job that February I was told that the “mean temperature of Dallas was 75 degrees”. Yep – 75 is half-way between 125 (which it was in Wichita Falls when I came through on the 4th of July weekend), and 25 (which it was during the ice storm that rolled through later that fall.) But nobody told me that there were only three seasons in Texas: almost hot, hotter than Hell, and don’t worry, it will be hot again soon.
I will have been married to my wife, Rene’, for 35 years this December, and we live in Plano. We have two grown children, and two small dogs. I was ordained on Groundhog’s Day, 3½ years ago, and prior to coming here I served as a deacon at St. Francis of Assisi in Frisco. I currently work in the business office of St. Patrick’s just down the road from here and have been there for almost 9 years. Prior to that I was a computer specialist and have had my own computer consulting company now for over 25 years. I know some of you from my old days with the Knights of Columbus at Prince of Peace, and I’ve already met several of you during the last couple of weeks. I’m looking forward to being a good neighbor.
Which brings us to today’s Gospel. The scholar answers his own question to Jesus about what it takes to obtain eternal life with the two greatest commandments which comes from the Torah, the first five books of the Old Testament, the foundation for Jewish law. The first, “Love God” comes from Deuteronomy, chapter 6, beginning with verse 4 and is part of the Shema, or the main Jewish prayer which they are to recite three times a day:
The second, “Love your neighbor”, comes from the book of Leviticus, chapter 19, verse 18:
Now, the scholar could have stopped there, but he wanted to put Jesus on the spot by challenging him about who should be considered a neighbor. See, In Jesus’ time it was the Jewish custom to live a life of what might be considered “national isolationism” – after all, Jews were the “chosen people” of God and deserved special treatment or consideration, while anyone who wasn’t a Jew was considered an inferior. Even though there were many laws specifically about caring for all those who were marginalized, including not just the poor, widows and orphans, but aliens, laborers, the deaf and blind, even lepers and sinners, those outsiders were obviously not in God’s favor and so were treated as inferiors.
It was one of the reasons why the Jewish leadership distrusted Jesus and had such a problem with him – his “signs”, his miracles, aided those who were outsiders, not the elite or even the “chosen”.
There were two primary reasons for their distrust. The first had to do with pride. Jewish leadership didn’t believe that the marginalized deserved to be considered worthy of the earthly gifts that God should give to those who “earned” them by being a “good” Jew. They allowed their ego, their arrogance, their pride, to color their thinking and their behavior toward others. Jesus’ actions were not consistent with living “the good life” as they saw it.
But the second reason was far more insidious – fear. They were afraid that the status quo of their lives, the comfort of their own existence and the known way of their lives would be threatened and they would lose the power and control they exercised over others. Jesus treated outsiders not only as equals, but often in a preferential manner. With his question, the scholar wanted to show others just what kind of threat Jesus posed to all Jews.
In answering the scholar’s second question about “who is my neighbor?”, Jesus changed the focus from a “who” – who is a neighbor to me – to a “what” – what makes me a neighbor to others. His parable struck right at the heart of their fear of losing the status quo.
In the parable, why did the Levite or the priest fail to help the injured man? Scripture scholars suggest several possible reasons:
In any case, the Good Samaritan doesn’t let any of these things interfere with his helping someone who was in grave need. He was obviously a businessman who traveled that stretch of road often and had business to attend to, yet he still took time and his resources to help without measuring the cost. He did what he could do for the injured person, and then went back about his business. But he did not forget about the injured person, for he said that if more was needed, he’d give it.
So, who is our neighbor today? Or, rather, who is it that we are called to be a neighbor to? We are over half-way through Pope Francis’ Year of Mercy, and when I see people who are in need of God’s mercy, I wonder if we’re getting the message that Jesus is telling us in the Gospel today. That WE are our brother’s keeper. That WE are the source of God’s Mercy to others. That WE are called to be a neighbor to one and all.
Who is the neighbor that we see laying on the side of the road today?
Are we afraid to help them?
Homily for July 10, 2016 Fifteenth Sunday of Ordinary - C
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
If someone asked you, “Who’s your neighbor?” what’s the first thing that comes to your mind? (Besides someone being mugged and left for dead?) Is it the person who lives next door to you or on the same street? How about your co-workers? Or, for those of you who have children, how about the parents of a child that shares a class with yours?
Or, how about the person that share’s your faith? Look around – go ahead – would you consider the person who is sitting close to you to be your neighbor?
I think you get the idea. Our word “neighbor” comes from the Old English word “nēah-gebūr” - nēah, or near, and gebūr, or dweller, and so we might consider those who live or work or close to us as neighbors. We might also consider people that we associate with, or those that we at least share a common interest with, as neighbors. And that was exactly the perspective of Jews at the time of Jesus. Neighbors were those closest to them.
In a sense, I come to you today as your new neighbor. My name is Bob Bonomi and I will be serving you as one of your deacons. I’m originally from northern Idaho, and growing up I was typical of many cradle Catholics – I’d go to church for Christmas and Easter sometimes but I wandered away from my faith – so those of you whose children have wandered from the Church, there is still hope for them. Remember, God works miracles every day. I didn’t come back to the Church in earnest until about 1990, after a particular difficult period in my life.
I moved to Texas the first time in the summer of 1980 as an engineer and computer specialist – in the middle of the 100-year heat wave – and I discovered that Texans don’t outright lie, they just don’t tell all of the truth. When I interviewed for the job that February I was told that the “mean temperature of Dallas was 75 degrees”. Yep – 75 is half-way between 125 (which it was in Wichita Falls when I came through on the 4th of July weekend), and 25 (which it was during the ice storm that rolled through later that fall.) But nobody told me that there were only three seasons in Texas: almost hot, hotter than Hell, and don’t worry, it will be hot again soon.
I will have been married to my wife, Rene’, for 35 years this December, and we live in Plano. We have two grown children, and two small dogs. I was ordained on Groundhog’s Day, 3½ years ago, and prior to coming here I served as a deacon at St. Francis of Assisi in Frisco. I currently work in the business office of St. Patrick’s just down the road from here and have been there for almost 9 years. Prior to that I was a computer specialist and have had my own computer consulting company now for over 25 years. I know some of you from my old days with the Knights of Columbus at Prince of Peace, and I’ve already met several of you during the last couple of weeks. I’m looking forward to being a good neighbor.
Which brings us to today’s Gospel. The scholar answers his own question to Jesus about what it takes to obtain eternal life with the two greatest commandments which comes from the Torah, the first five books of the Old Testament, the foundation for Jewish law. The first, “Love God” comes from Deuteronomy, chapter 6, beginning with verse 4 and is part of the Shema, or the main Jewish prayer which they are to recite three times a day:
“Hear, O Israel, the Lord is our God, The Lord is One. / Blessed is the name of His glorious kingdom / Forever and ever. / And you shall love the Lord your God, / With all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your possessions."
The second, “Love your neighbor”, comes from the book of Leviticus, chapter 19, verse 18:
“Take no revenge and cherish no grudge against your own people. You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”
Now, the scholar could have stopped there, but he wanted to put Jesus on the spot by challenging him about who should be considered a neighbor. See, In Jesus’ time it was the Jewish custom to live a life of what might be considered “national isolationism” – after all, Jews were the “chosen people” of God and deserved special treatment or consideration, while anyone who wasn’t a Jew was considered an inferior. Even though there were many laws specifically about caring for all those who were marginalized, including not just the poor, widows and orphans, but aliens, laborers, the deaf and blind, even lepers and sinners, those outsiders were obviously not in God’s favor and so were treated as inferiors.
It was one of the reasons why the Jewish leadership distrusted Jesus and had such a problem with him – his “signs”, his miracles, aided those who were outsiders, not the elite or even the “chosen”.
There were two primary reasons for their distrust. The first had to do with pride. Jewish leadership didn’t believe that the marginalized deserved to be considered worthy of the earthly gifts that God should give to those who “earned” them by being a “good” Jew. They allowed their ego, their arrogance, their pride, to color their thinking and their behavior toward others. Jesus’ actions were not consistent with living “the good life” as they saw it.
But the second reason was far more insidious – fear. They were afraid that the status quo of their lives, the comfort of their own existence and the known way of their lives would be threatened and they would lose the power and control they exercised over others. Jesus treated outsiders not only as equals, but often in a preferential manner. With his question, the scholar wanted to show others just what kind of threat Jesus posed to all Jews.
In answering the scholar’s second question about “who is my neighbor?”, Jesus changed the focus from a “who” – who is a neighbor to me – to a “what” – what makes me a neighbor to others. His parable struck right at the heart of their fear of losing the status quo.
In the parable, why did the Levite or the priest fail to help the injured man? Scripture scholars suggest several possible reasons:
- Perhaps they are on their way to perform religious services and if the victim was dead and they touched him, they would become “unclean” and would not be able to perform their duties.
- Perhaps they are overwhelmed at the prospect of transporting an injured man through the mountains and finding assistance for him in the next town
- Perhaps they are afraid, fearing that the man has been placed there to lure them into an ambush.
- Perhaps they are disgusted by the gore and prefer not to dirty their hands and clothes.
In any case, the Good Samaritan doesn’t let any of these things interfere with his helping someone who was in grave need. He was obviously a businessman who traveled that stretch of road often and had business to attend to, yet he still took time and his resources to help without measuring the cost. He did what he could do for the injured person, and then went back about his business. But he did not forget about the injured person, for he said that if more was needed, he’d give it.
So, who is our neighbor today? Or, rather, who is it that we are called to be a neighbor to? We are over half-way through Pope Francis’ Year of Mercy, and when I see people who are in need of God’s mercy, I wonder if we’re getting the message that Jesus is telling us in the Gospel today. That WE are our brother’s keeper. That WE are the source of God’s Mercy to others. That WE are called to be a neighbor to one and all.
Who is the neighbor that we see laying on the side of the road today?
Are we afraid to help them?
Sunday, June 26, 2016
Hasta La Vista!
Hasta La Vista!
Homily for June 26, 2016 13th Sunday of Ordinary - C
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
At first glance, it might appear that today’s first reading and the Gospel passage from St. Luke contradict each other. After all, when Elisha asks Elijah if he could kiss his family goodbye, Elijah tells him to go ahead and “go back” to them. Yet Jesus, when asked what seems to be a similar question, admonishes the person with what seems to be a harsh judgment about not be fit for the kingdom of God. What gives?
Let’s start with our first reading. It begins with God telling Elijah on Mount Horeb to anoint Elisha as his successor as prophet to the Israelites. If we go back and look at the previous chapters in first Kings, we read about Elijah’s contest with the 400 prophets of Baal, and how, after winning, he had them executed. Because of that Queen Jezebel wanted him dead, so he fled to Mount Horeb in fear of his life.
But God had other plans for him. God revealed Himself to Elijah on the mountain – not in a mighty wind, or an earthquake, or in fire, but in a whispering, soft sound. He ordered Elijah to go back to continue his mission, and gave him three things to do, one of which was to anoint his successor, Elisha, which is where we pick up today.
Now, Elisha appears to be a fairly well-to-do person, as he has 12 yoke of oxen at his disposal for plowing, and most scripture scholars agree that that would be considerable for the times. To follow Elijah is going to call for a significant sacrifice on Elisha’s part.
And yet, having been called by God to replace Elijah, Elisha doesn’t really hesitate when Elijah places his mantle over his shoulders. In requesting to kiss his parents goodbye, Elisha honors them in accord with the 4th Commandment, but he’s truly saying goodbye – by burning his farming equipment and feeding the oxen to his people he is severing all his ties and there will be no going back.
Which brings us to today’s Gospel. At this point in Luke’s Gospel, Jesus is beginning His final journey to Jerusalem and His Passion. There is a sense of immediacy – of urgency – in his journey now. His admonitions reflect that sense of urgency. Notice that in all of his admonitions, Jesus doesn’t tell any of his potential disciples to NOT do what they’ve asked, but he’s pointing out that if they truly want to follow Him, they must be aware of the consequences. He needs committed followers, and He knows that when the time comes for His Passion, almost everyone who says they will follow him will abandon him. He’s telling them – AND US – that the price of following Jesus is our total commitment to Him.
It is ironic that these readings are for this weekend – the last one I will be celebrating with you as your deacon here at St. Francis. I think God has a sense of humor, since these readings were set long before I found out I was leaving. But while it is true that I will have new priorities in my life as a deacon, it doesn’t mean that the gift that each one of you has been to me will ever be forgotten.
As I look back over the years of the journey which led me first to St. Francis and now to St. Paul’s in Richardson, I can understand something about the beauty, the joy, of following God’s Will instead of my own.
I’ve been here 3 ½ years – how quickly they’ve passed. That’s roughly the same amount of time that Jesus served in His ministry. I’ve been blessed to have St. Francis as my first assignment as a deacon. I’ve been blessed with serving with Fr. Larry and all of the other priests and deacons here, and I’ve been blessed with serving with some of the best altar servers I’ve ever seen anywhere. (Don’t let that go to your heads, guys.) And best of all, I’ve been blessed to have developed friendships with so many of you. You’re like family to me – you ARE family.
When other deacons from the class before mine were reassigned last year, many of them said they felt like they were losing their friends. I told them that you really never lose true friends, but that they were merely expanding the boundaries of their faith “family”. It reminds me of a passage from 1st Chronicles, chapter 4, verses 9 and10 – better known to many of you as “The Prayer of Jabez”, from the book by Bruce Wilkinson. It goes like this:
“Jabez was the most distinguished of his brothers. His mother had named him Jabez, saying, “I bore him with pain.” Jabez prayed to the God of Israel: “Oh, that you may truly bless me and extend my boundaries! May your hand be with me and make me free of misfortune, without pain!” And God granted his prayer.’
I’ve always wanted to serve others even before I became a deacon, and I’ve had the joy of serving in many different ministries of my own choosing. I knew that once I was ordained, however, that it would be God guiding my choices and that He would steer me toward wherever He wanted me to serve. Now, I see he’s merely expanding my boundaries again.
So, my final words to you are these: have faith in God’s call, and do not be afraid to answer it, whatever it may be. St. Francis has many, many wonderful opportunities to serve and I’ve been blessed to have been part of several different ministries here, like the St. Vincent de Paul Society, the Knights of Columbus, and the 8th grade Confirmation class. But you don’t have to be a deacon to be part of these wonderful ministries. Pick one and get involved, and you too will be blessed. Don’t be afraid.
Like a first love, St. Francis – YOU – will always have a special place in my heart. But love for God HAS to be greater than personal wants, and that means I go where I am called. And my trust in God is great. I have been amazed by the actions of God in my life. Maybe I shouldn’t be – after all, He IS God and I’m just a deacon – but His love for me and His presence with me have been amazing, even in the trials and changes that have periodically arisen in my life – just as He is present in the trials and changes you face, too.
And so, to paraphrase the classic rock song “Turn, Turn, Turn” by the Byrds (actually, the song comes from Ecclesiastes):
Yet, it’s really not goodbye, for goodbye and farewell have a sense of finality about them. I prefer to say, “Hasta la vista". May God bless you all.
Homily for June 26, 2016 13th Sunday of Ordinary - C
by Dcn. Bob Bonomi
At first glance, it might appear that today’s first reading and the Gospel passage from St. Luke contradict each other. After all, when Elisha asks Elijah if he could kiss his family goodbye, Elijah tells him to go ahead and “go back” to them. Yet Jesus, when asked what seems to be a similar question, admonishes the person with what seems to be a harsh judgment about not be fit for the kingdom of God. What gives?
Let’s start with our first reading. It begins with God telling Elijah on Mount Horeb to anoint Elisha as his successor as prophet to the Israelites. If we go back and look at the previous chapters in first Kings, we read about Elijah’s contest with the 400 prophets of Baal, and how, after winning, he had them executed. Because of that Queen Jezebel wanted him dead, so he fled to Mount Horeb in fear of his life.
But God had other plans for him. God revealed Himself to Elijah on the mountain – not in a mighty wind, or an earthquake, or in fire, but in a whispering, soft sound. He ordered Elijah to go back to continue his mission, and gave him three things to do, one of which was to anoint his successor, Elisha, which is where we pick up today.
Now, Elisha appears to be a fairly well-to-do person, as he has 12 yoke of oxen at his disposal for plowing, and most scripture scholars agree that that would be considerable for the times. To follow Elijah is going to call for a significant sacrifice on Elisha’s part.
And yet, having been called by God to replace Elijah, Elisha doesn’t really hesitate when Elijah places his mantle over his shoulders. In requesting to kiss his parents goodbye, Elisha honors them in accord with the 4th Commandment, but he’s truly saying goodbye – by burning his farming equipment and feeding the oxen to his people he is severing all his ties and there will be no going back.
Which brings us to today’s Gospel. At this point in Luke’s Gospel, Jesus is beginning His final journey to Jerusalem and His Passion. There is a sense of immediacy – of urgency – in his journey now. His admonitions reflect that sense of urgency. Notice that in all of his admonitions, Jesus doesn’t tell any of his potential disciples to NOT do what they’ve asked, but he’s pointing out that if they truly want to follow Him, they must be aware of the consequences. He needs committed followers, and He knows that when the time comes for His Passion, almost everyone who says they will follow him will abandon him. He’s telling them – AND US – that the price of following Jesus is our total commitment to Him.
It is ironic that these readings are for this weekend – the last one I will be celebrating with you as your deacon here at St. Francis. I think God has a sense of humor, since these readings were set long before I found out I was leaving. But while it is true that I will have new priorities in my life as a deacon, it doesn’t mean that the gift that each one of you has been to me will ever be forgotten.
As I look back over the years of the journey which led me first to St. Francis and now to St. Paul’s in Richardson, I can understand something about the beauty, the joy, of following God’s Will instead of my own.
I’ve been here 3 ½ years – how quickly they’ve passed. That’s roughly the same amount of time that Jesus served in His ministry. I’ve been blessed to have St. Francis as my first assignment as a deacon. I’ve been blessed with serving with Fr. Larry and all of the other priests and deacons here, and I’ve been blessed with serving with some of the best altar servers I’ve ever seen anywhere. (Don’t let that go to your heads, guys.) And best of all, I’ve been blessed to have developed friendships with so many of you. You’re like family to me – you ARE family.
When other deacons from the class before mine were reassigned last year, many of them said they felt like they were losing their friends. I told them that you really never lose true friends, but that they were merely expanding the boundaries of their faith “family”. It reminds me of a passage from 1st Chronicles, chapter 4, verses 9 and10 – better known to many of you as “The Prayer of Jabez”, from the book by Bruce Wilkinson. It goes like this:
“Jabez was the most distinguished of his brothers. His mother had named him Jabez, saying, “I bore him with pain.” Jabez prayed to the God of Israel: “Oh, that you may truly bless me and extend my boundaries! May your hand be with me and make me free of misfortune, without pain!” And God granted his prayer.’
I’ve always wanted to serve others even before I became a deacon, and I’ve had the joy of serving in many different ministries of my own choosing. I knew that once I was ordained, however, that it would be God guiding my choices and that He would steer me toward wherever He wanted me to serve. Now, I see he’s merely expanding my boundaries again.
So, my final words to you are these: have faith in God’s call, and do not be afraid to answer it, whatever it may be. St. Francis has many, many wonderful opportunities to serve and I’ve been blessed to have been part of several different ministries here, like the St. Vincent de Paul Society, the Knights of Columbus, and the 8th grade Confirmation class. But you don’t have to be a deacon to be part of these wonderful ministries. Pick one and get involved, and you too will be blessed. Don’t be afraid.
Like a first love, St. Francis – YOU – will always have a special place in my heart. But love for God HAS to be greater than personal wants, and that means I go where I am called. And my trust in God is great. I have been amazed by the actions of God in my life. Maybe I shouldn’t be – after all, He IS God and I’m just a deacon – but His love for me and His presence with me have been amazing, even in the trials and changes that have periodically arisen in my life – just as He is present in the trials and changes you face, too.
And so, to paraphrase the classic rock song “Turn, Turn, Turn” by the Byrds (actually, the song comes from Ecclesiastes):
To everything, turn, turn, turn.
There is a season, turn, turn, turn.
And a time to every purpose under heaven.
“A time to laugh, and a time to cry;
a time to say hello, and a time to say goodbye. “
Yet, it’s really not goodbye, for goodbye and farewell have a sense of finality about them. I prefer to say, “Hasta la vista". May God bless you all.
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