Sunday, December 16, 2018


THIRD SUNDAY OF ADVENT
16 DECEMBER 2018

          Zephaniah was not a prophet who looked at the world with rose colored glasses.  In his short book, Zephaniah clearly saw the pain and suffering caused when his people turned away from their Covenant with God.  He wrote vividly of the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple by the Babylonians as the consequence of the sins of his people.  Yet, today Zephaniah tells Mount Zion (on which is built the Temple) and Jerusalem to be glad and exult.  Despite the pain and suffering endured by his people, destruction and desolation are not the last words.  God has forgiven their sins.  God is in their midst, and God will bring them victory.
            There is no doubt that Saint Paul was familiar with the writings of the Prophet Zephaniah.  He too had known the consequences of his sins.  He had been guilty of murdering the earliest followers of Jesus of Nazareth.  As he writes to the Philippians from the darkness of his prison cell, he too knows desolation.  He has come to believe that the prophecy of Zephaniah had been fulfilled in the person of Jesus Christ.  The body of Jesus had been destroyed on the cross and sown into the grave.  But Paul has come to believe that this crucified Messiah had been raised from the dead and sits at the right hand of the Father.  For that reason, he tells the Philippians to rejoice, because he is convinced that the risen Lord is near.
            That is why we wear rose vestments and light the rose candle today.  Our waiting to celebrate the first coming of the Lord is almost over.  Christmas is just over a week away.  Our waiting for the second coming of the Lord is not over.  We continue to wait for that coming at the end of time and at the end of our lives.  No matter what difficulties we may be facing, the Lord is near and is in our midst, even in the darkest moments of our lives.
            Calling to mind the second coming of the Lord during this Advent Season might cause us to be fearful, because we know neither the day nor the hour of the Lord’s coming to us.  For that reason, the words of Saint John the Baptist are so important.  He is the voice crying out in the wilderness to tell his contemporaries that the Messiah is coming.  His urgent message to them is to repent, to change their lives, so that they can receive him.
            In responding to his call to repentance, the crowds ask questions.  They ask what they should do.  He responds to most of them by telling them to share more generously with those who have nothing.  He responds to the tax collectors by telling them to stop cheating people and collect only what is prescribed.  He responds to the soldiers by telling them to stop bullying people and be satisfied with their salaries.   
            To us, waiting for the second coming of the Lord, he gives the same message.  He also gives us a way to repentance.  The risen Lord is truly present in the Sacrament of Reconciliation and is waiting for us to turn more completely to him now.  Our Advent Penance Service is scheduled for Tuesday evening at 7:00, with seventeen priests available for individual confession of sins and absolution.  I recommend this communal option, because there is strength in numbers.  Besides, you will never see some of these priests again on the side of the second coming.  Later in the week, we will offer many other times for individuals to receive the Sacrament.  In either case, we offer a valuable tool:  a written examination of conscience.  It is sometimes tempting to approach the Sacrament with the attitude that there is no sin in my life.  The examination proposes objective questions to consider in our lives of faith.  Reviewing this examination provides specific ways in which we need to cooperate with the Lord’s grace and make necessary changes to meet the Lord when he comes.  Through the Sacrament, the Lord gives us his mercy, which is a cause for rejoicing always!

Saturday, December 8, 2018


SECOND SUNDAY OF ADVENT
9 DECEMBER 2018

          Saint Luke has a keen sense of history.  He writes his Gospel to distinguish the period of Jesus Christ from the period of Israel, God’s chosen people.  He writes the Acts of the Apostles to tell about the history of the Church, begun with the outpouring of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost.  We see his keen sense of history in today’s Gospel, when he cites the timing of this event in the fifteenth year of the rule of Tiberius Caesar.  The seven leaders are the superstars of his day.  The Roman emperor rules with an iron fist, and all citizens understand the consequences if they try to escape his fist.  Pontius Pilate is in charge of the Roman Empire in Galilee, while Herod is in charge of Galilee.  His brother Philip is the wealthy and corrupt leader of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias is enjoying his fame in Abilene.  Annas and Caiaphas are the powerful members of the priestly class who manage the Temple in Jerusalem.  Beginning with the most prominent and ending with the least, he uses the number 7 to say that the time has been fulfilled.
            But the Word of God does not come to these movers and shakers.  The Word of God comes to a strange son of an insignificant priest who takes his turn serving in the Temple.  The Word of God does not come into magnificent palaces.  The Word of God comes in the desert, that barren wasteland where there are few distractions and where everyone can roam freely without being stopped by guards at private palaces.  Having received the Word of God, John does not tell people to trust in the ability of their leaders to make their lives easier.  Instead, he invites them to step into the waters of the Jordan River and repent.  He invites them level the mountains of pride and arrogance and materialism.  He invites them to fill in the age old depths and gorges where there has been a shortage of justice and obedience to God.  He demands a complete change of heart, because the Messiah is coming.
            That same Word of God comes to us today.  Like the crowds who came to listen to John, we have stepped away from the sights and sounds of the “Holiday Season” to enter the barren desert of Advent.  John reminds us that the Lord is coming again – at the end of time and at the end of our lives.  He warns us to be prepared for that coming, because we do not know when it will happen.  Instead of trusting that the promises of the superstars of our day will save us, and instead of embracing the lifestyles of the rich and famous, he calls us to become more intentional members of the Kingdom of God, which is in our midst.  Wealth and status do not determine our worth.  Our worth is determined by our relationship with Christ.     
            John calls us to examine the priorities in our lives to make a path for the Lord’s coming.  We need to level the mountains in our lives.  Mountains can take the shape of accumulating possessions, or building up our good names, or putting obstacles to those who have offended us.  Valleys also need to be filled in.  Valleys can take the form of not putting aside enough time for personal prayer or failing to do the works of mercy or creating divides for enemies. 
            The best way to level mountains and fill in valleys is to receive the Sacrament of Reconciliation.  A good examination of conscience reveals those mountains that need to be leveled and those valleys that need to be filled in.  To quote the Prophet Baruch, all of us have allowed ourselves to be carried away from Christ by embracing the enemies of sinful bad choices.  The Lord’s mercy carries us back, carried aloft in glory as on royal thrones.   G.K. Chesterton noted that humanity has been slowly drifting away from God.  When that happens, we find nothing but “cures that don’t cure, blessings that don’t bless, and solutions that do not solve.”  John the Baptist points to the One who does cure, the One who does bless, and the One who offers the ultimate solution.  He calls us to level the way for his coming.

Sunday, December 2, 2018


FIRST SUNDAY OF ADVENT
2 DECEMBER 2018

          At Thanksgiving, I spent time with my family in downstate Illinois.  My nephew, Adam, was there with his wife and two children.  Declan is three years old, and Zoey is five.  Lately, Zoey has been interested in the family weddings she had attended.  So, she asked, “Uncle Bill, will you do my wedding when I grow up?”  Before I could reply, her father blurted out, “no, Zoey, he will be dead by that time!”       
            After my initial shock at his blunt response, I had to laugh! To be honest, this is what the Season of Advent tries to teach us.  We think of Advent as a time of preparation for Christmas.  And that is true, because we prepare to celebrate Christ’s first coming.  But, Advent also teaches us how to prepare for Christ’s coming, not only at the end of time, but also at the end of our mortal lives.  That is why darkness is so much a part of Advent.  For us, this is the darkest time of the year, with the permanent clouds of lake effect snow making it worse.  We don’t have to look far to encounter the other kind of darkness:  the darkness of natural disasters, the darkness of a country and Church sharply divided, the darkness of pain in our families, and the darkness that comes from our disturbing habit of continuing to sin with our bad choices.
            Advent is in conflict with our culture’s “holiday season,” which is in full swing by now.  The holiday season tries to distract us with lights and sounds and parties.  Today’s Gospel sets the tone for Advent, because Jesus invites us to face the darkness when he returns again at the end of time.   Jesus uses the image of the sun, the moon, and the stars as a metaphor.  Ancient mariners and travelers used the sun, the moon, and the stars as fixed points of navigation.  They depended on these heavenly bodies to find their way.  When the end comes either in our individual lives or at the end of the world, we can no longer use our accustomed fixed points to navigate our way.  They are gone.
            Advent is not intended to make us morbid, fearful, or paranoid.  Advent focuses on the darkness of our world and the darkness of our lives from the perspective of hope.  The prophet Jeremiah expresses hope to a people devastated by the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple.  He assures them that God will be faithful to the promise made to King David and will return his people to their homeland.  Jesus gives hope when he tells us to stand erect and raise our heads.
            We can stand erect and raise our heads, because we are disciples of Jesus Christ.  If we are authentic disciples, then Jesus has become our fixed point.  As he becomes our fixed point for navigating our lives, then the other fixed points of our lives must be adjusted.  Making enough money to raise a family and live a comfortable life is not a bad thing.  Nor is the desire to be well liked or have a good repetition inherently bad.  However, these fixed points must give way to the fixed point of Jesus Christ in our lives to allow us to stand erect and raise our heads.
            No amount of darkness can rob us of our relationship with Jesus Christ as the fixed point in our lives.  Advent challenges us to make adjustments, if other interests or attachments have replaced Jesus Christ as fixed points.  The darkness of Advent reminds us that we have time to change and turn more completely to Christ.  The distractions of the “Holiday Season” make those changes more difficult.  Facing darkness squarely with courage and with hope provides space to make those changes.  Having dwelt in darkness for four weeks, the bright light of Christmas when we celebrate the First Coming of the Lord in the flesh will make more sense and provide incredible joy.  I may be in a wheel chair when Zoey gets marrieds.  My nephew may be right.  Either way, I’m here now, trying, like you, to make Jesus Christ the fixed point of my life, waiting in joyful hope for the coming of our God.

Sunday, November 25, 2018


OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST, KING OF THE UNIVERSE
25 NOVEMBER 2018

          When Jesus rode on a donkey into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, the crowds welcomed him with great joy, waved palm branches, laid their cloaks on the ground, and hailed him as king of Israel.  In giving him that title, they expressed their belief that he was the Messiah promised to Israel.  They had remembered the victories won by King David, when he defeated their enemies and established Jerusalem as the city of peace.  In calling Jesus the king of Israel, they voiced their hopes that this son of David would save them from the Romans, the current foreign occupiers of the land given originally to Abraham. 
            A few days later, Jesus stands before the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate.  Pilate does not ask him if he is king of Israel. Instead, he asks him if he is king of the Jews.  He asks this question, because Jesus had threatened the religious authorities with his preaching, teaching, and miracles.  So, they bring him to Pilate and accuse him of trying to become a king to challenge the authority of Caesar, and his puppet King Herod.  Pilate has no understanding of the religious questions of the people he is oppressing in Caesar’s name.  All he cares about is keeping them from rebelling. Jesus becomes a threat, if he truly wants to be the king of the Jews.  
Jesus does not answer Pilate’s question.  However, their conversation reveals that Jesus Christ and Pontius Pilate inhabit very different kingdoms.  Pilate’s kingdom revolves around power, prestige, and wealth.  Pilate is interested in keeping this portion of the Roman Empire under Caesar’s control.  He is willing to use any means, including military force and execution, to maintain the status quo.  He is even willing to ignore the truth that this Galilean peasant is innocent of the charges brought against him.
            The kingdom of Jesus Christ revolves around love.  He knows the truth that this governor stands before the Son of God who was present at the creation of the world.  With true humility, he has emptied himself of the privileges of divinity and has spent the last three years revealing the truth about his nature.  His mission is not to defeat the power of the Romans at that time in history, but to defeat the power of the evil one for all ages.
Because of his cowardice and fear, Pontius Pilate condemns Jesus to die a painful death on the cross.  He mocks Jesus by placing above his cross the Latin words:  Jesus of Nazareth, king of the Jews.  Saint Catherine of Siena points out that as King, Jesus behaves like a true knight who perseveres in battle until his enemies are defeated.  His breastplate is made of Mary’s flesh that will bear the blows to make up for our wickedness.  The helmet on his head becomes the painful crown of thorns, driven into his brain.  The sword at his side will be the wound caused by the soldier’s lance, revealing the incredible love that he has for us.  The gloves on his hands and the spurs on his feet will be the scarlet wounds of his blood poured out for us.
Today is the last Sunday of this Liturgical Year.  Throughout this year we have reflected on the incredible love that the Word made flesh expressed by his miracles, the truth that he preached with his mouth, and the compassion and mercy shown to the suffering.  Now he will give himself totally out of love on the cross.  From his wounded side will flow the water of baptism and the blood representing the Eucharist.  Through baptism, we have become his Body, the Church.  Raised from the dead, he has fed us with the Eucharist.  Today, he stands before us and challenges us to make a choice.  As we begin another Liturgical Year next Sunday, which kingdom will we choose?  Will we choose the kingdom of Pontius Pilate and pursue privilege, wealth, power, and control?  Or will we choose the kingdom of Jesus Christ to live our baptismal promises to die to ourselves and trust that we will rise with Christ when he comes again in glory? 

Sunday, November 18, 2018


THIRTY-THIRD SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME
18 NOVEMBER 2018

          Those who have children know their questions when they travel with the family by car.  It is the same question I asked my Dad when he drove the family to holidays at his parents’ home in Lebanon, Indiana:  “when we will get there?”  My Dad’s stock answer was always:  “it is just around the corner.”  When he retired and joined my brother’s family and me on a hiking trip, I got even with him.  He wanted to get to the end of the hike.  Hearing the same response from me, he was not amused!  Today, parents can use their GPS devices to give accurate information.  Since little children do not understand those terms, parents still say: “It is just around the corner.”
            In a sense, this is the response Jesus gives to his disciples.  He has already told them that the magnificent temple, which had been under restoration for 40 years, would be destroyed.  He is trying to prepare them for his own death, when the sun will be darkened.  He tells them that the world as we know it will pass away, and that he will come again in glory to gather his elect to himself.  Like children in their parents’ car, they want to know when these things will happen.  Because he himself does not know that time, and because his disciples cannot understand God’s time, he uses the same kind of apocalyptic language used in the Book of Daniel to say, “It is just around the corner.”
            Throughout this month of November, we have been praying for those whom God has harvested through death.  With the Solemnity of Christ the King next Sunday, we will come to the end this liturgical year.  So, naturally, with our prayers for our deceased loved ones and our focus on the end, we ask when the world as we know it will end.  Jesus gives the same response to us that he gave to his first disciples: “It is just around the corner.”
            He speaks this truth to us, not to make us anxious or to cause us to be consumed with worry about death.  He speaks this truth to reinforce our faith.  As the Letter to the Hebrews tells us, Jesus Christ has already made the perfect sacrifice on the cross to defeat the power of the enemy.  He has been raised from the dead and has ascended to the right hand of the Father.  We live in that time between his victory and his return in glory. 
            But, the enemy, the devil continues to prowl about the world seeking the ruin of our souls.  We live in this in-between time, when we are stretched between Christ’s victory and his return in glory.  The forces of sin and evil are very much in evidence, and we experience them in our own lives and in the images of war and terror from around the world.  Last year, I traveled with Margaret and Joseph Derbiszewski to Poland, where we visited the Nazi concentration and extermination camps of Auschwitz and Birkenau.  It was a stark and powerful reminder of the existence of sin and evil in our world.  But as moving as it was, we went to lunch afterward.  We did not smell the horrible smells or see the horrific sights of the camps when they were in operation.  The visit caused me to see the importance of confronting my own sins and the damage we do by the sinful choices we make that affect ourselves and others.
            In this in-between time, God remains in charge.  Knowing that our lives and the life of the world will come to an end, we can take great hope in the Lord’s presence, not only in the sacramental life of the Church, but also in our daily efforts to die to ourselves and turn more completely to Christ.  The Scriptures remind us of our mortality not to oppress us and make us fearful, but to encourage us to hope.  The Letter to the Hebrews makes one final point.  Having won the victory with his sacrifice on the cross, Jesus now is seated at the right hand of God and waits until his enemies are made his footstool.  That will happen when the Lord comes again.  For now, God is the parent driving the car.  Our destination is just around the corner. 

Sunday, November 11, 2018


THIRTY-SECOND SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME
11 NOVEMBER 2018

          Widows in the Ancient Near East lived at the bottom of society.  Without any social safety net in a world where men earned their living, widows were extremely vulnerable.  This would have been especially true of the widow of Zarephath in the first reading.  Her situation was even worse, because she lived in an area where there had been a severe drought for years.
            Into her life walks Elijah.  The widow would regard him as the enemy.  He was the one who announced the drought as a punishment for the sins of King Ahab and his wife Jezebel.  Yet, the widow still offers him hospitality – a small cupful of water.  Amazingly, she trusts his word that his God would provide for her and her son when she makes a small cake out of the little oil and water that she has left.  She puts herself into the flow of God’s giving by giving the little she has.  God rewards her trust by providing food for her and her son for an entire year.
            Centuries later, Jesus encounters another widow in the Temple.  Like the widow of Zarephath, she too is at the bottom.  Jesus criticizes the learned theologians who are at the top.  They enjoy the benefits of their positions:  their long robes, their seats of honor in synagogues, and the best places at banquets.  They are the ones who serve as trustees for impoverished widows, keeping too much from their meager resources in payment for their services.  In sharp contrast, Jesus points out the poor widow who puts two small coins into the Temple treasury.  Unlike the large coins that would have made a lot of noise going down the trumpet shaped containers, her small coins would not have been noticed.  But Jesus notices her.  She gives of her substance, trusting the God will give back more than she could have given herself.
            These two widows have much to teach us as we advance in the spiritual life.  When we become too comfortable and accustomed to relying on our own resources, we tend to fill our lives with more stuff.  Those who have gone through twelve step programs know this truth.  It is only when they have hit rock bottom that they can begin to trust that God will provide what they need to confront their addictions.  Those who adopt the attitude of the widows can actually grow in trusting that God will provide.  That is why so many in our parish have embraced stewardship as a way of life.  Stewardship teaches the lessons that the widows already knew – that God gives back more than we give.  Good stewards set aside a first and generous time for personal prayer, especially the hour at Mass on Sunday when we give thanks to God for all God has given.  Good stewards set aside a first portion of their busy schedule to give time in humble service.  Good stewards sacrifice a first portion of their treasure, instead of tossing in whatever is left over.
            Jesus notices this widow in the Temple just days before he is stripped of everything and gives his life completely for us on the cross.  The widow points to what he will do.  He will contribute all that he has for our salvation.  His trust in the Father will be returned when he will be raised from the dead and share that resurrection with those who die with him.
            It takes a lot of courage to take those first steps in embracing stewardship as a way of life, because we fear that we will not have enough.  But those who have taken that first step begin to experience the reality that they receive much more back than they ever give.  As we pray for the courage to embrace the faith of those two widows, we also pray for our bishops, who will meet this week to confront the damage done by certain religious leaders of our time have used their positions to enrich themselves to the detriment of Christ’s Body, the Church.  We pray that they will have the courage to listen carefully to the promptings of the Holy Spirit to introduce reforms to the Church and healing to those who have been harmed.  Our prayer is based on the experience of the widows that God will always give back more than we can ever offer.

Saturday, November 3, 2018


THIRTY-FIRST SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME
4 NOVEMBER 2018

          When the scribe asks Jesus about which is the greatest of the commandments, the question is much more difficult and complicated than we might think.  At the time, there were 614 Commandments just in the first five books of the Bible – the Torah.  And for each of these commands, scribes and teachers would develop ways to interpret each of the commandments.  For example, there were 39 different categories of work that must be avoided just on the third commandment to observe the Lord’s Day!  Despite these well intentioned efforts to help people follow the law, law-abiding Jews were crushed under the burden of laws and interpretations.
            Jesus responds by quoting from the Book of Deuteronomy:  you shall love the Lord your God with every fiber of your being.  This commandment is at the heart of both the Old and New Testaments.  If we love God, then God will come before anything else we might hope for:  power, wealth, success, security, comfort, prosperity, control, or prestige.  Then he quotes a second passage from the Book of Leviticus:  you shall love your neighbor as yourself.  Jesus so radically combines these two commandments that they cannot be separated.  We cannot love our neighbor if we do not love God.  We cannot love God if we do not love our neighbor.
            This love has little to do with emotions or warm feelings.  Jesus has already shown the depth of God’s love by taking on human flesh and identifying with us in every way except sin, as the Letter to the Hebrews insists.  In just a few days after this exchange with the scribe, he will demonstrate his love for neighbor by offering himself as a sacrifice on the cross.  This love has no limits, and this love cannot be defined by rules or laws.  We live the Great Commandment when we imitate the love of Jesus Christ – placing God above every other reality and giving ourselves in humble service to others.
            The Gospels also make it clear that Jesus defines the word “neighbor” in a much wider context than would the scribe.  A neighbor is not just someone in my clan or class or tribe or race.  A neighbor (as we learn from the parable of the Good Samaritan) is anyone we encounter who is in need.  We show our love in many diverse and challenging ways.
            That is why the Diocesan Office of the Propagation of the Faith assigns a mission preacher to each parish every year.  That office connects one mission from a struggling area to a parish in our Diocese, giving us a chance to share our resources with our neighbors.  Most mission speakers stand up here to present the needs of their missions.  This year, the office has allowed us to respond to the needs of someone we know very well.  Father Larry Kanyike has been to Saint Pius often to present the needs of his people.  Through our response, he has been able to build a health clinic, a new church, and most recently a new school.  Now he is asking for our help in furnishing a convent to house the sisters who teach in his school.  He emailed me last week, saying that the Archbishop of Kampala is celebrating Mass in his parish this Sunday to celebrate the tenth anniversary of the founding of his parish.  Remembering his hour-long homily at the dedication of the new church, I wonder how long he is talking today!
            The mission preachers in the past have asked us to trust their word about their needs.  I have been to Father Larry’s parish and have seen their needs myself.  Since his “day job” keeps him at his parish this weekend, I am asking for your help in his name.  The image of Saint Charles Lwanga, one of the Ugandan martyrs on our triumphant arch underscores our connection with Father Larry and his parish.  You will find pictures of the church and the school in today’s bulletin.  You can place your donation in one of the envelopes in the pew.  I can assure you that Father Larry puts our gifts at the service of his people, who are most grateful for our help.