I have not abandoned posting homilies.  However, a bout of covid complicated by pneumonia and dehydration resulted in a six-day hospitalization, half of it in-patient and half in a program called "hospital at home" that was visiting nursing ramped up.  The fatigue afterwards was a real problem.  I did not celebrate Mass for a while.  Am now back to the regular schedule.  Am not posting for today because I am a monastery to which an archbishop made an unexpected visit and chose to celebrate all the liturgies.  I will be celebrating tomorrow AM before heading back to Boston. 

 

There is one concern.  As posted by me on Facebook: 

One must admit that the White House has sunk to a new low of ineptness and reached a new high in humor in one fell swoop, a move deserving of grudging admiration if for no other reason than its efficiency.  In declaring today, Easter  Sunday as “trans visibility day” it committed gross sacrilege.  Excommunication for the main occupant down on Pennsylvania Avenue should be a consideration. 

 

On the other hand, the White House has singlehandedly expanded April Fool’s Day into a two-day celebration.  Again, one must grudgingly admire the efficiency of one declaration having  two opposite effects.

 

Overall, however, the U.S. Government has reached a  new low.  There is no thing in the 250k photos on my computer to express my contempt.

The Time is Close: Homily for the 5th Sunday of Lent

 

Jer 31:31-34

Ps 51

Heb 5:7-9

Jn 12:20-33

 

We are rapidly moving toward the singular event in Jesus’ life  and the sole reason for Jesus incarnation and birth, a birth we celebrated three months ago.  Next Sunday we will hear the chilling introduction:  “The Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ according to Mark.”  Throughout the rest of Holy Week we will recall the most important event in the history of the world.  The Church will commemorate the institution of the Eucharist on Holy Thursday.  On Good Friday there will be another proclamation of Our Lord’s Passion, this time according to St. John. Then will follow the long peculiar emptiness of Holy Saturday that will end with the ecstatic joy of the Easter Vigil. 

 

The covenant God formed with His people was not and is not a pact between equals.  It was not, is not, and never will be a democracy.  God decided in freedom to grant His allegiance to Israel.  He dictated His conditions.  We are free to accept or reject those conditions.  We are not free to negotiate them or revise them to suit our taste, socio-political whims, or most recent trends.

 

God chose Israel without any merit on her part.  Similarly, God has chosen us. Like Ancient Israel we are sinners.  Like the Ancient Israelites we are sinners loved by God.  God has given His love freely.  We can only respond with a love

that translates into obedience to the conditions of that covenant.  We heard the how of that obedience in today’s Gospel.

 

Jeremiah prophesied that the covenant would be reestablished.  The covenant had to be reestablished because the Israelites, by worshiping foreign gods, had violated the old covenant in a manner resembling the betrayal of adultery within marriage.  Unlike the old covenant inscribed on stone the new covenant would be inscribed on the human heart. That new covenant will change the heart on which it is inscribed.   It will change it unless that heart chooses to reject the covenant and change itself into stone, scarred and pockmarked by sin.

 

The reading from Hebrews reminds us that Jesus, fully divine and fully human, was acquainted with the trials and sufferings of the human nature he shares with us.  Next Sunday we will recall Jesus’ fear.  Three times he prayed, “Abba . . . take this cup from me.”  And three times he offered his obedience, “But not what I will but what you will.”  

 

After his exaltation Jesus no longer knows weakness.  BUT, having experienced weakness, fear of death, fear of pain, and the sorrow of perceived abandonment

He knows our fear of death, dying, and abandonment, a fear that came true for too many during the bizarre pandemic precautions that ignored the needs of the dying thus, forcing them to die alone, bereft of any human contact,

and kept from the sacraments of confession and anointing of the sick. 

Those who instituted the hysterical, irrational, and immoral policies are deserving of condemnation. They have much to answer for.

 

 

Today’s gospel from Chapter 12 of John begins by noting it was six days until the Passover. The next chapter begins with the words, “Now before the feast of the Passover, when Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart out of this world to the Father . . . . “ Jesus gives final instructions to His followers.  He tells us the how of our obedience.  In the Revised Standard Version one hears: “If any one serves me he must follow me; and where I am, there shall my servant be also; if anyone serves me, the Father will honor him."

 

Confessing Jesus, believing in Him as Son of God, as Revealer of the Father, and Messiah is not an intellectual or mental exercise.  Faith in Jesus is not something to pull out when convenient or just for holidays. It is not something one can store on a shelf. Our actions must emerge from the Eucharist and all it demands.

 

In 1996 Fr. John McHugh, the Capuchin Franciscan chaplain at Dartmouth where I was teaching at the time, preached a challenging and squirm-inducing homily  regarding the necessary response to those suffering from poverty. On the way out of the chapel I overheard a young woman telling a classmate in response to Father's challenge, “I don’t want my religion to influence my political and economic decisions.”   The absurdity of that comment is right up there with, “I’m very spiritual . . . . but not at all religious.”  Those who claim to serve the Lord

must follow Him in the service of His Father. They do that by the totality of their obedience to the Father and in their love for one another. 

 

Jesus’ words: “where I am, there shall my servant be also” radically alter our understanding of death.  Prior to Jesus' act of obedience, death was a descent into Sheol, the dismal habitation of the dead.  Henceforth, the death of those who serve and follow the Lord is an ascent to the Father where the Son also is. 

 

Thus, we pray with the psalmist the great Miserere

 

"A clean heart create for me, O God,
and a steadfast spirit renew within me. . . .
Give me back the joy of your salvation, 
and a willing spirit sustain in me.
I will teach transgressors your ways,
and sinners shall return to you."

 

_______________________________________________________

While traveling home from N'Djamena, Chad in August 2014, I stopped in Ireland for ten days in large part to attend the Croke Park Classic, an every two or three year American university football game.  Did not take camera to game, a very wise decision.  But wandered around the city.  

The Samuel Beckett  Bridge.  Spent several hours shooting it from both sides.

The prettiest tap line next to the Rockettes.

St. Peter's Green, very near the Leeson St Jesuit Community in which I stayed for ten days.

The city was bedecked by Penn State decor.  The Penn State fans outnumbered the UCF one by at least three to one if nor more.

The announcement of the game.

A pub somewhere between the Leeson St. Community and Croke Park.

Dusty Rose is NOT Pepto-Bismol Pink: Homily for Laetare Sunday

 

2 Chr 36:14-16, 19-23

Ps 137 1-6

Eph 2:4-10

Jn 3:14-21

 

"Laetare Jerusalem:

et conventum facite omnes

qui diligitis eam."

 

"Rejoice, O Jerusalem;

and gather round,

all you who love her."

 

The Fourth Sunday of Lent is traditionally known as Laetare Sunday, with the name deriving from the first word of the entrance antiphon,  Laetare. “Rejoice.”

 

We mark Laetare Sunday visually by replacing the somber purple vestments with dusty rose. Note, dusty rose is absolutely NOT Pepto-Bismol or Barbie’s Dream House pink. There is a significant difference.  The dusty rose visually remind us

of a subtle lightening of mood, transient though it may be, now that the penitential time is more than half over.   That change of color is an important signifier of that brief respite that Jesuit Father Jim Schall described in one of his many essays.

 

"Laetare Sunday is traditionally called a respite.  It makes us begin to feel the nearness of the Passion and the Resurrection, but with a reminder that even amid the Lenten fast and the coming remembrance of the Crucifixion, we are not to forget that Christianity is a religion of joy."  He goes to explain that "Christianity is a religion of joy since it knows this world is not all there is; there is something precious beyond the world."  That precious something is apparent in today's readings and particularly in John's Gospel.

 

Commenting on the first reading, The Jewish Study Bible notes that "one of the hallmarks of the Book of Chronicles is its notion of divine providence and retribution . . . through which virtuous deeds lead to reward, and bad deeds bring punishment and suffering."  The book's uniqueness is its view of Divine compassion, that allows for repentance and forgiveness of sin. That compassion brings an eternal message of hope.  

 

No matter how often the Israelites violated the covenant forgiveness was available. God never forgot the covenant even when his people repeatedly did,

even when they chose to worship false pagan gods. We are blessed because

through  God's mercy we receive forgiveness for our sins in the sacrament of confession, as often as we wish to partake of it.  

 

The responsorial, Psalm 137, is fascinating.  It reflects the notion of retribution for sin found in Chronicles. It illustrates the importance of holding to God, recalling and living within the covenant God made with His people. It is also one of the few instances in all of scripture in which a physician can make an accurate diagnosis. 

 

"If I forget you O Jerusalem,

may my right hand wither,

may my tongue cleave

to the roof of my mouth

if I remember you not."

 

As punishment for forgetting the covenant, the psalmist is calling down upon himself the Ancient Near Eastern version of the old schoolyard oath, "If I am lying may God strike me dead."  He is calling down a specific punishment that even today many find worse than death. Should he sin by forgetting what God had done for his people, the psalmist is asking that he be punished by a stroke on the left side of his brain, the type of stroke that results in paralysis and atrophy of the right hand and arm, along with the garbled speech of expressive aphasia that does, in fact, sound as if the tongue is stuck to the roof of the mouth. It is important to note that God is not threatening this punishment.  The psalmist is calling it down upon himself for the sin of forgetting God and His covenant.

 

St. John Paul II of happy memory took words from Paul's Letter to the Ephesian for the title of his second encyclical Dives in Misericordia (Rich in Mercy), an encyclical in which he explored the mystery of redemption.  We read in section seven:  "mercy is an indispensable dimension of love; it is . . . love's second name, and, at the same time, the specific manner in which love is revealed and effected . . ."

 

We have been saved by grace and mercy.  John tells us as much in the gospel

where he wrote, "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life."  This truth never loses its power to stun the believer into silence at the power of the cross while leaving the non-believer perplexed by the scandal of the same cross. 

 

It is critical to recall when contemplating these words that they do not even hint

that our bodies will not die. Rather, these words tell us that the power of death itself has been overthrown.  We will all die.  It cannot be otherwise.

 

Ideally that moment will occur at the natural end of our lives rather than through so-called physician prescribed death, a euphemism for putting down those who are ill. We will all die. But, death itself has lost its power over us and will never regain it. 

 

"Laetare Jerusalem:

et conventum facite omnes

qui diligitis eam."

 

________________________________________________________

At this point in Lent of 2011 I was part of the Australian Tertianship.  We were making the Long Retreat at Sevenhill, South Australia, a 1000 acre winery near Clare, South Australia, that is best described as being in the middle of nowhere. 

 

 

Brother Vincent making his midday meditation. 

We knew where the key was for the church's choir loft.  Fortunately I had the camera with me the first time I went up.  The cross for the veneration liturgy on Good Friday was in place.  Took many many photos of this over a few days.

We had an unusual amount of rain.  I posted this in honor of the anniversary of the release of the movie version of "The Sound of Music" on 2 March 1965, fifty-nine years ago last week.

My familiar lament:  if only I had the equipment then that I have now.  Kangaroos are fast and difficult to get near.

The altar cross.  The stained glass was non-figurative and cast great light.

The altar at around the same time of the day.  The church was oriented directly east thus late afternoon (it was autumn in Australia) was a great time to capture the light. 

 

 

Fr. Jack, SJ, MD

Zeal for the Father’s House: Homily for the 3rd Sunday of Lent

 

Ex 20:1-17

Ps 19

I Cor 1:22-25

Jn 2:13-25

 

The readings for today’s Mass are rich. Each could be the text for a long homily.  Each tells us about God. The God of Exodus is not a God of relativism, a God of accommodation, negotiation, or adaptation to social trends.

 

The Ten Commandments are short. They are to the point.  They prohibit Adultery.  Killing.  And Stealing, to name a few thou shalt nots. They demand love for God and one’s neighbor.  Thou shalt not kill does not exclude abortion

because it is QUOTE delivery of women’s health care UNQUOTE. 

 

“Honor thy father and mother" does make allowance for asking physician to prescribe death for mom or dad because their lives are perceived to have no meaning; or the inheritance is running out. 

 

While the prohibition against adultery should be self-evident, it doesn't take long

wading in the moral swamp of modern American life to get the idea that it is frequently ignored and accepted as a part of life. 

 

The second chapter of John‘s Gospel is 25 verses long and includes and one massive shift in scene.  In the space between the end of verse 12 and the beginning of today's reading with verse 13, we move from the wedding at Cana

to the Temple at Jerusalem.

 

The challenge of this gospel reading is that we are forced to confront our notions

of who Jesus is and, perhaps with greater difficulty, how Jesus acts.  This is not a warm and fuzzy scene.  For those for whom zeal for God’s house is a sometimes thing or depends current social fads, it is an uncomfortable confrontation.  Like the God of the Old testament, The Jesus of the gospels is not a Jesus of relativism, accommodation, negotiation, or a man who adapts to social trends, "Oh, c'mon Jesus, everybody is selling animals in the Temple these days." Or, "Keep your religion out of my life." Or, "My body, my self."   

 

The Jesus of the gospels is the Jesus who challenged political authorities. but he also challenged social trends: adultery, divorce and extortion.  The Jesus of the gospels called a spade a spade.  The Jesus of the gospels did not cave into secularist society.  The Jesus of the gospels would not tolerate the desecration of His Father’s house, unlike some idiot at St. Patrick’s a few weeks ago when a group of trannies, who are beneath contempt, desecrated it in the course of a so-called funeral.

 

The scene of Jesus overturning tables in the Temple and driving out the money changers with a whip, bothers some people.  They are bothered because Jesus is not gentle, or affirming, or negotiating. He is angry and acting on that anger.

It is unlikely that the Jesus of this gospel would sanction and bless immoral relationships, even if that blessing was given “spontaneously” whatever that might mean.

 

The late Jesuit Father Stanley Marrow, commented on this reading. “One puzzling aspect is how generation after generation can hear this account and persist in clinging to their cherished image of Jesus. . . an image of Jesus so “gentle and mild” as to be incapable of overthrowing anything, not even the reader’s smugness. . . . The Jesus in this or any other gospel is not a standard-bearer for bleeding hearts. The aim of the Gospel is not to provide us with the biography of an inspiring hero, proportioned to the size of our ambitions, conformed to our ideals, and meeting our notions of what constitutes greatness.”  Perhaps Stanley might have included he was not a standard bearer for political correctness.

 

Without zeal for God’s house the Church cannot exist.  Without zeal for God's house, we might as well simply stay in bed on Sunday and watch the shopping channel or reruns of Oprah. Only zeal for God's house, only time dedicated to prayer and contemplation on the gospel, will allow us to realize the fundamental truth given in the psalm.

 

“The law of the Lord is perfect,

refreshing the soul;

The decree of the Lord is trustworthy,

giving wisdom to the simple.

 

The precepts of the Lord are right,

rejoicing the heart,

the command of the lord is clear,

enlightening the eye."

 

The Lord does, indeed, have the words to everlasting life. 

________________________________________________________

 

One of the fascinating aspects of photography is the relationship between light and shadow.  Without the shadow light means very little.  

 

Sunrise at Cohasset, MA

My lunch at a monastery in Slovenia.  The rose was icy cold, made on the grounds.  The bread is "borek" a stuffed bread that I ate whenever possible.

A still life at a monastery of nuns.

Votive lights at the Cathedral in Lyon, France.

 Fr. Jack, SJ, MD