Plymouth Boy Made Good: Homily for the Memorial of Therese of Lisieux

 

Anniversaries and memorials anchor our lives by reminding us to look back, while experiencing the present, and looking toward the future.  The Church’s many memorials, feasts, and solemnities  are important because, as is true of our personal anniversaries, they help to locate moments from the past in the present and similarly move into the future.  Because memorials cannot take precedence over a Sunday liturgy, we are not officially celebrating St. Therese of Lisieux, also known as The Little Flower on this her memorial.  But there is a degree of flexibility in preaching.

 

Canonized in 1925 Therese is considered the first saint of the twentieth century.  She is one of the first saints to have been photographed during her lifetime. Many of the photos were taken by her blood sister who was also a Carmelite of Lisieux. 

 

What some call the cult of St. Therese is worldwide. It grew, in part, from her writings published as, The Story of a Soul.  The documents were found only after her death and published three years later.  The book has never been out of print.  Therese was declared Doctor of the Church by Pope John Paull II in 1997. He explained that those who are declared Doctors of the Church have become a reference point for all through the example of their lives and the legacy of their writing.

 

Before being a saint, however, Therese was a human being, a flesh and blood woman,

who, at times,  struggled with her faith in the same way we do.  She suffered from scruples. Her death from tuberculosis was a difficult one. There are controversies over her writing. Many of the photographs were “photoshopped” by her sister to present a more favorable impression. She had been a difficult child and was not always easy as an adult.

 

The memorial of the Little Flower is not the only anniversary today. Two others occupy my thoughts.  I pronounced final vows in the Society of Jesus ten years ago this morning.  Jesuit vows are unusual in that there are no temporary vows.  Our first vows are perpetual.  Final vows do not happen until several years after ordination, and only following tertianship, a period of about nine months when a man recapitulates his novitiate experiences in compressed form.  Unlike most congregations and orders, Jesuits pronounce vows kneeling in front of the Body and Blood of Our Lord just before communion. 

 

A more significant anniversary today is the death of Father James Aloysius Martin,

who preferred being called Jimmy.  Jimmy died sixteen years ago this afternoon in his bed at Georgetown. He and I are the only two men from the coal-mining town of Plymouth in NEPA, to have ever become Jesuits.   At the time of his death Jimmy was,

the oldest Jesuit in the world at age 105 years, one month, and one day.

 

I witnessed his death as did twenty other Jesuits who came to his room directly from community Mass when I notified them that death was very near.  It was a remarkable experience.  The moment Father Burroughs ended the prayers for the dying with the sign of the cross, Jimmy heaved a great sigh and his immortal soul departed his mortal body.  Though I’ve witnessed more deaths than I can remember, this one left me speechless for reasons I can’t fully articulate, though part of the answer hearkens back to when he was just 100. 

 

I’d stopped in to see him in the infirmary where he was recovering from pneumonia.  He was awake.  I asked, “Jimmy, what are you doing?”  He responded, “I’m praying.”  “What are you praying about?”  “Oh, I’m praying because I don’t think I’ve given enough to God.”  Tears flooded my eyes.  He had already been a Jesuit for 81 years, had been at Anzio in WW II, was a missionary to the Philippines, built the retreat house in Faulkner, MD, and served many years as Prefect of Discipline at Georgetown University.  He resigned as house chaplain at age 101.

 

Jimmy, a lifelong athlete who turned down a baseball scholarship to the University of Pennsylvania to enter the Society,  gracefully accepted the gradual diminishments that aging imposed on him.  One day when he was 90 he returned from celebrating Mass somewhere in northern VA, walked into the superior’s office, dropped the car keys on the desk and announced, “I’m done.”  No one knows what lay behind that sudden decision.  He  never discussed it.  He never drove again.

 

He rarely missed community Mass until the last months of his life when he was mostly bedridden. 

 

His sense of humor was wicked.  One evening when he was 103 I joined him at table where he was sitting with two Jesuits from West African.  Besides heavy French accents they had very soft speaking voices.  The men were trying to tell him that they had never seen anyone as old as he was,  but he couldn’t hear or understand.  I intervened and said, “Jimmy, these men are trying to tell you that they are amazed you’ve lived as long as you have.”  Jimmy stroked his chin, chuckled, and said, “So am I, so am I.” 

 

Today’s anniversaries bring two extremes together. At one we have St. Therese, the Little Flower who died of tuberculosis in the Carmelite infirmary age 24 and yet was named patroness of missionaries.  At the other is Father Jimmy Martin, who served in Europe during WW II, was a missionary in the Philippines, and lived a very active ministerial life until he was in his 90s.  When he died of pneumonia in his infirmary bed,he had lived 81 years longer than the Little Flower.   The two had, and have, one thing in common. 

 

When both were young they gave everything they were and everything they had to serve God for the rest of their lives.  Both lived the Suscipe, a prayer attributed to St. Ignatius.  It is the same prayer that was sung at the offertory during of the final vow Mass ten years ago.

 

“Take, Lord, and receive

all my liberty, my memory,

my understanding, and my entire will,

All I have and call my own.

 

You have given all to me,

To You Lord I return it.

Everything is yours;

do with it what you will.

Give me only Your love and Your grace,

That is enough for me. 

 

______________________________________________________

The photos are from final vows ten years ago and a shot of Fr. Martin and me.  

 

 Fr. Jack, SJ, MD

That Ain’t Fair!, Homily for the 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time

 

Mt 20:1-16

 

Today’s gospel from Matthew was just proclaimed a few weeks ago on Wednesday 23 August.   A repeat gospel within a few weeks  complicates life when preaching to the same congregation. 

 

It would be easy enough to pull out the homily from a few weeks ago and rerun it, hoping that no one would notice.  Changing the order of ideas or sentences might work

but would veer perilously close to sloth, one of the seven deadly sins defined as: habitual disinclination to exercise or laziness, or in this case a disinclination to thinking about and praying with the gospel. 

 

One option would be not to give a homily  which is an easy enough solution during the week when a homily is not required.  One is required on Sundays.  The final option is to reread and reconsider the narrative asking what else there is in the reading that could form the nucleus of a homily.  Among other things, today’s gospel alludes to the sin of envy, which, along with sloth, is one of the seven deadly sins.

 

Many people see envy and jealousy as interchangeable or synonyms.  They are not. 

Envy and jealousy are related but they are not identical concepts.  One may lead to the other, and the two can coexist. But they are not the same thing.  

 

I was unaware of the distinction until a conference during psychiatry residency.  The attending asked the difference between envy and jealousy.  A few brave souls suggested that they were the same thing.  The attending said they were not.

He explained: “Envy is wanting what another has.  Jealousy is fear that another is going to take what you have.” 

 

Envy may be beneficial if it encourages us to work harder to get what we envy.  If a student envies a friend’s grades it may push him or her to put down the computer games and study harder so as to get the same grades.  But, envy may be destructive

if it drives the individual to sabotage the efforts of a friend or neighbor. 

 

Jealousy, the fear that another will take what I have, drives much interpersonal conflict. It is one of the triggers to war.  Jealousy includes elements of suspicion, fear, anxiety, and hostility. As opposed to mere sabotage, which has the goal of hindering the others’ success, jealousy drives revenge with the goal of grievously harming the other.

 

Like all of Jesus’ parables there is no definite conclusion to the narrative.  The parables never end with the equivalent of “and they lived happily ever after.” Jesus parables always end on a question mark.  This makes us ask “and then what?”

 

 

What do you think happened after the workers had been paid?  We know the first hired resented that the Johnny-come-latelies were paid the same as they were, some for working as little as one hour.  Was there some pushing and shoving on the walk home?

Were cross words exchanged? Maybe a few swear words?  What did the first hired

have to say about the land owner?   What were the last ones hired saying about him?

Did someone contact the union rep?

 

The first reading describes God as generous and forgiving.  The landowner asked the disgruntled workers if they were envious because he was generous. The answer was obvious. 

 

Some time today, ask yourself,  How would I respond to the same situation?

 

_______________________________________________ 

I am a Penn State alumnus.  It was the only university I wanted to attend as an undergrad.  My dad graduated in 1927 and my niece in 1981.  I finished in 1971 with an early acceptance to Temple Med and finally finished my bachelor's in 1996, just before entering the Society.  I've taken hundreds of photos there.  Alas, I haven't been in PA in over five years.  One of these days.  

 

Old Main the architectural symbol of Penn State.

Back before Bud Light went woke.  I don't drink light beer of any kind.  Penn State alumni resonate with the order, "A BOX OF ROCKS."    Definitely not Bud light

The NIttany Lion at night, THE symbol of the University

Pattee Library at night.  One of my favorite buildings on campus. 

Fr. Jack, SJ, MD

The Amish Tragedy in 2006: Homily for the 24th Sunday of Ordinary Time

 

17 September 2023

Sir 27:30-28:7

Mt 18:21-35

 

Peter asked, “Lord, if my brother sins against me, how many times must I forgive him?  As many as seven times?” 

 

Forgiving someone seven times seems reasonable.  Indeed forgiving someone seven times seems positively magnanimous, even saint-like if you will.  Jesus’ reply must have startled Peter.  Not seven times but seven times seventy-seven times.  Jesus was not giving Peter a specific number or setting limits on forgiveness.  Rather, by using hyperbole he was indicating that forgiveness must be infinite.  Jesus' hyperbolic reply is analogous to something most of us heard when we were kids and swore we would never say upon becoming parents, aunts, or uncles. But we do.

 

“If I told you once I told you a thousand times.”  Most of the time a thousand times underestimates the real number but mostly it was hyperbole for effect.

 

The gospel parable is chilling on two levels:  The first is the servant’s callous behavior toward a fellow servant where he showed himself as man who couldn't or wouldn't forgive as he was forgiven.

 

The second chilling element is the punishment meted out to him when the master learned of his actions.  One could ask why the master was not forgiving toward the wicked servant.  It is a good question.  Perhaps there are actions that are unforgivable even once. 

 

Jesus’ message to Peter is to forgive as God forgives. He instructs Peter to forgive perfectly and without limit.  Perfect and unlimited forgiveness is an ideal humans generally can’t reach except under exceptional circumstances.  But, an instance of those exceptional circumstances went on international display in 2006.  The painful 17th anniversary will be in a few weeks.

 

On  October 2, 2006 Charles Roberts, IV entered the Amish one-room school house in Nickel Mines, PA.  After sending all of the boys out Roberts murdered five girls between the ages of nine and thirteen.  In addition he critically injured five others, one of whom was severely brain-damaged and remains mute and paralyzed. He killed himself when the police arrived. 

 

His actions horrified the world.  The actions of the Amish community horrified much of the world even more. Roberts horrified the world by the brutality of his act.  The Amish horrified the world by their forgiveness. 

On the day of the shooting the grandfather of one of the murdered girls told young relatives, "We must not think evil of this man.” 

 

Another Amish man noted, "He had a mother and a wife and a soul and now he's standing before a just God." 

 

Still another Amish man held the shooter’s sobbing father in his arms for an hour as he attempted to comfort him.

 

Thirty members of the local Amish community attended Roberts' funeral. 

 

Though the Amish have been described as an Old Testament people, they may or may not know the Book of Sirach which is considered canonical by the Catholic and Orthodox Churches but apocryphal in the Protestant churches. 

 

We just heard, "The vengeful will suffer the LORD’s vengeance, for he remembers their sins in detail.  Forgive your neighbor’s injustice; then when you pray, your own sins will be forgiven."  This explains the behavior of a group of people that most of the world found incomprehensible.  Most of us are willing to forgive.  Sometimes.  Under some circumstances.  For a limited number of times.  For some things but not all.

 

Jesus instructs us that forgiving seven times is not enough.  By using hyperbole or exaggeration Jesus is telling us we must always forgive.  We rarely meet this standard.  Jesus’ instruction to not easy to understand.  It is not easy to accept. 

It is not easy to follow.   And yet, that is what God gives us.  God offers us forgiveness even more heroic than the forgiveness the Amish extended to the murderer of their children, to the man who killed and maimed their daughters. 

 

The psalm assured us.

 

"The Lord is kind and merciful,

slow to anger, and rich in compassion.

He pardons all your iniquities, heals all your ills.
He redeems your life from destruction,
crowns you with kindness and compassion."

 

God offers us forgiveness every time we receive the sacrament of confession. 

We need only begin, “I confess to Almighty God that I have sinned . . . ”

 

And then we ask for pardon and forgiveness. 

 

 __________________________________________

 

 The photos come from Sydney Australia on 31 July 2011, St. Ignatius Feast.  Took tripod.  Exposures of up to 25 seconds.  

Fr. Jack, SJ, MD

 

Lux aeterna: Homily for the Observance of 9/11

 

It has been twenty-two years since life as we had previously known it ended.  It ended between the hours of 8:46 AM and 9:37 AM on the Tuesday now referred to as 9/11.  It ended in a span of fifty-two minutes.  Just fifty-two minutes.  Unlike twenty-two years, fifty-two minutes is not a long time and yet those minutes seemed, and still seem, as if they were an eternity.  Few things would remain the same or return to what they had been before those fifty-two minutes had elapsed.  The idea of “normal” would have to settle at a new baseline.  I’m not certain that new baseline has been settled yet.

 

The scars remain on the psyches of those of us who lived through the ensuing days, weeks, and months of profound grief, a grief that ratcheted up with each reported rise in the death toll that eventually hit 2,977.  Memories of fear still echo on sleepless nights.  Anger continues to seethe just below the surface, anger directed at the nineteen terrorists whose suicides are frequently dropped from the total number of deaths, as they were here.  Perpetrators do not deserve to be counted among their victims. 

 

By 8:00 PM that night monasteries entered into the great silence, a silence that was more profound than usual on 9/11, a silence lacking the sounds of planes flying overhead and traffic rumbling by.  The great silence began after the chanting of the Salve Regina, the Church’s final prayer of the day.  One wonders how many eyes were free of tears during the words,

 

Ad te clamamus exsules filii Evae

Ad te suspiramus, gementes et flentes

in hac lacrimarum valle

 

“To you do we cry poor banished children of Eve

To you do we send up our sighs mourning and weeping

in this vale of tears . . .”

 

We were plunged into that vale of tears several hours earlier.  That night few of us slept.  Many wept through the night as they prayed for those who had died and for those who survived them.  Over the weeks and months that followed lists of the dead and stories of heroic action, oftentimes at the cost of one’s life, began to appear.  Sixteen Penn Staters died. They were:

 

Kermit Anderson, 1965,  Mathematics;

Patrick Dwyer, 1986, Finance;

Michael Ferugio, 1987, Industrial Engineering;

Scott Hazelcorn, 1994, Accounting;

Howard L. Kane, 1983,, Accounting;

David Kovalcin, 1983, Mechanical Engineering

Michele Nelson, 1985, Psychology;

Michael Pescherine, 1991, Finance

Jean Roger, 1999

David Suarez, 1999, Industrial Engineering,

 

All but one of them graduated after my 1971 departure from University Park to North Philadelphia and beyond.  However, as Nittany Lions we shared something important during our separate experiences be they in the seventies, eighties or nineties. It is a commonality that would have been the path to deeper sharing were we to have met.  Ya’ can’t talk about Creamery Ice Cream without learning a lot about the other no matter the age difference.

 

Among the most remarkable of the stories of heroism and self-sacrifice was that of Welles Crowther, one of twenty-two Boston College alumni who died in the terrorist attack.  Crowther, a 1999 economics graduate, worked as an equities trader and volunteer fireman.  He is credited with saving 19 lives before he perished, while returning to the building to rescue others.  His body was not found until March 22, 2002.  Since 2014 BC has designated one football game per year as the “Red Bandana Game” in his memory.  This year’s game will be on Saturday, September 16.  More information on Crowther can be found online at https://www.gnbvt.edu/the-man-in-the-red-bandana/#:~:text=The%20red%20bandana%20is%20a,courage%2C%20and%20his%20overall%20being.  It is an inspiring story.

 

Today, as has been true for the past twenty-two years, we are called to pray for the victims of the terrorists, the victims who died in the planes, the towers, and those on the ground, many of whom were first-responders who risked their lives attempting to save others.  There are others who, while not counted among those killed directly, saw their health irreparably damaged from toxic exposures, damage that resulted in premature deaths. 

 

We pray for the families and loved ones who remain bereaved and grieving. We pray for the orphaned children, the infants and children in the womb who grew up without knowing their parent and others who faced the joys and hurdles of life without the dead parent’s guidance.  And we pray in particular for the parents of the many men and women who died, parents bereft by the deaths of their children, the most anguished form of grief there is.

 

Requiem aeternam                                  

dona eis, Domine,

et lux perpetua luceat eis.

Requiescant in pace.

 

"Eternal rest

grant unto them O Lord,

and let perpetual light shine upon them.

May they rest in peace."

 

____________________________

 

Rather than a photo or twelve, there is a YouTube of the Lux Aeterna by Edward Elgar, adapted from the “Nimrod” variation of his Engima Variations.  The lyrics are similar to the end of this homily and come from the Catholic liturgy for the dead.  As you listen to it think back to that awful day and the days and weeks that followed. 

 

Lux aeterna luceat eis, Domine,
cum sanctis tuis in aeternum, quia pius es.
Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine,
et lux perpetua luceat eis, quia pius es.

 

May eternal light shine on them, Lord,
with your saints for ever, for you are good.
Give them eternal rest, Lord,
and may light perpetual shine upon them, for you are good.

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DXMBMoewAw4

No Trickery Involved: Homily for the 22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time

 

Jeremiah 20:7-9

Ps 63

Rom 12:1-2

Mt 16:21-27

 

Among the most useful bits of advice given in theology school was that when preparing to preach, write a paper, or even for personal devotion, it is important to read more than one translation. This is particularly true in English in which there are multiple translations that vary tremendously in style, grammar, and wording. 

 

There are revisions of revisions, new versions of old versions, new versions of revised versions, and so on.  Some are written in lofty and elegant language while others approach slang.  One version of a reading may resonate more with a reader

than an alternative.  At times it helps to pay attention to subtle shades of meaning

of a particular word or phrase.  Depending on the translation they can have a significant impact on our understanding of the reading. 

 

Sometimes a “non-official reading” works better when preaching than the one found in the lectionary.  Such is the case today. 

 

We just heard, “You duped me O Lord and I let myself be duped.”  Duped is not in common use today.  I suspect it is unfamiliar to those  who are not native English speakers and possibly unfamiliar to a lot of native speakers as well.  Duped means tricked or fooled.

 

The King James Version and the Catholic RSV use: “O Lord, you have deceived me and I was deceived.”

 

A version in common English is accusatory when it writes, “You tricked me Lord and I was really fooled.”  

 

However, The Jerusalem Bible gets it right: “You have seduced me Yahweh, and I let myself be seduced.”

 

Deceived. Duped.  Tricked.  Seduced. Conceptual overlap to be sure but each has distinct nuances of meaning.  Deceived has entirely negative connotations of being lied to. Duped also suggests a dishonest approach that takes advantage of another.

Calling someone a dupe is never a compliment. 

 

Tricked is well, tricked.  Pulled the wool over the eyes.  Fooled.  The old switcherooni.

 

Seduced is the only one of these that truly works when applied to God.  Seduced has multiple meanings, among which one finds: To win over, to attract powerfully. 

 

“You attracted me powerfully and I allowed myself to be attracted.”  “You won me over .“ There is no hint that God lied, was dishonest, engaged in subterfuge, or used trickery. 

You attracted me strongly and I allowed myself to be attracted.  You called to me in a powerful voice and I followed.  You waited until I came to my senses. So much better than hinting that God pulled a fast one, tricked, or deceived.  God calls.  God beckons. God invites.  He wins over. He does not trick, deceive or dupe. 

 

Saint Augustine, for his part, got it right. In one of his most eloquent and resonant  passages, that was the second reading in the breviary on his August 28 memorial.  He wrote:

 

“Late have I loved you,

O beauty ever ancient ever new . . .

You were within me but I was outside. . .

You were with me, but I was not with you . . .

You called, you shouted and you broke through my deafness . . .

You breathed your fragrance on me . . .

You dispelled my blindness . . .

You touched me and I burned for your peace . . . “

 

 

There certainly is nothing suggesting trickery, chicanery, or duping in Jesus’ words to the apostles. “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.  For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” 

 

Jesus is not promising an easy life free of pain, suffering, or trial.  He is telling it like it is.

like it was, and like it will always be for those who choose to follow him, for those who allow themselves to be seduced. 

 

“God forbid that this should be so . . . .”  Peter’s denial of Jesus’ statement of reality,

earned him a harsh rebuke.  We are not to think as Peter did.  Rather we are to accept the reality that it ain’t easy and it ain‘t gonna be easy.  But we know that. We have known that from the beginning.  No deception or chicanery involved.

 

In his letter Paul gives sage advice against taking the easy way, the soft way, the way of those who deceive and dupe when he advises, “Do not conform yourselves to this age.” 

Especially this age in the U S of A, an age in which “sin” “immoral” and “wrong” have been stripped of all meaning.  

 

“You have seduced me and I allowed myself to be seduced.”  When we can say that we can also sing with the psalmist:

 

“I will bless  you while I live;

lifting up my hands,

I will call upon your name.

As with the riches of a banquet

shall my soul be satisfied,

and with exultant lips

my mouth shall praise you.”

___________________________________________________

Returned from my annual eight-day retreat on Thursday.  I was fortunate to make it at Holy Trinity Monastery, the monastery of the Maronite Monks of Adoration in Petersham, MA, about 75 minutes to the west of Boston.  It was a deeply consoling retreat.  I no longer need to figure out where to go on retreat.  This will be the house as long as I am able.  The liturgy was beautiful and very reverent.  The setting very quiet.  The darkness at night was total.  

 

Did a bit of photography.  

 

 

Have never seen mushrooms like this.  Any mycologists?

Fascinating shape.

The monastery.  The building to the right is the guest house.  Small rooms with a private entrance onto a porch. 

                                            Saint Sharbel, the mystic of the East

The monastic church.

My room faced the sunrise directly east.

The rays of the sun were exquisite for a very short period just after Mass.

 

 Fr. Jack, SJ, MD