The famous 20th century St. Padre Pio said once that he would wait outside the gates of heaven until the people in his life had entered. I’m not sure that I, or frankly many people I know, would say that and mean it. Yet that is precisely the kind of attitude we see in Jesus as he prays for us in the Gospel today. Having celebrated the Ascension of the Lord just a few days ago, we now hear the Son of God at the Last Supper pray to his Father “that they may be brought to perfection as one” (John 17:23). What does this mean for us?
I’d wager that we are not surprised that Jesus wants to make us perfect — that is, happy, whole, and healed. The shocker is that he desires this for us collectively and not just individually. Perfection is a team sport. We need each other to be perfect. Jesus is like a mother longing for her adult children to learn how to be in loving support of one another. He wants the perfection of his disciples to be not some individualistic plan of moral uprightness, but a loving communion of brothers and sisters.
Let’s apply this practically. Do I see my participation at Mass as something I do merely for my own peace and edification, or as something I do with and for the people around me? Do I see my ongoing need for forgiveness as something that simply makes me feel better, or as a task that heals those around me, too? Is my dearest hope to individually get to heaven when I die, or is it to be part of the great procession of souls, together marching towards the heavenly Jerusalem? Do I want to be in heaven with people I currently find difficult? How would my life change if I did?
Jonathan Haidt’s 2024 book entitled “The Anxious Generation” argues that today’s kids are marked by significant increases in anxiety, as the title suggests. Smartphones, social media, economic uncertainty, the chaos of a global pandemic, fear regarding climate change, and the so-called “meaning crisis” all contribute to strikingly high levels of anxiety in young people today. I’m a bit older than this generation, but I feel it, too. The world can be too much to handle.
The Gospel this week offers a stunning solution for troubled souls. To his overwhelmed and anxious disciples, the risen Jesus says, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you”(John 14:27). His peace is that of the one who was overwhelmed on the cross and then conquered death by the power of his divinity, his bond of love with the Father. He offers us this unshakeable peace.
Of course, mental illness does not magically disappear because of the risen Jesus. But he does walk with us and offer us his peace in the midst of our suffering. The peace the world gives is not like his because it is weak, uncertain, and self-generated. Jesus’ peace is strong, sure, and given as a gift from God. He gives it to us amid our anxiety. Will you receive it as a gift? I hope so. He wants to fill the hearts of this generation with his peace.
I’ve always found it amazing that Jesus never says to his disciples the straightforward and bumper stickery words “I love you” or “I will always love you” (a la Dolly Parton’s song). Why doesn’t Jesus say, “I love you”?
Well, actually he does, but in particular ways. He says, “As the Father loves me, so I love you”(John 15:9) there by rooting his love for us in the space of the Holy Trinity. This week he commands, “Love another as I have loved you”(John 13:34). He presents his love for us as a completed action which continues into the present moment. How has he loved us? By becoming one of us, one with us, and finally giving his life for us in his suffering on the cross. We weren’t there when he did that, but neither were his Apostles (except one). Still, that action is his great “I love you” to us.
His love is also hedged in a command: “Love one another.” So how can we practically follow it? The great St. John XXIII wrote in his diary that each day he followed this rule: “Only for today, I will do one good deed and not tell anyone about it.”The hidden nature of a good deed is a sign that it is truly loving. This week, take on St. John XXIII’s practical method of following Jesus’ great commandment of love. It’s a splendid way to say, “I love you.”
A few years back, I felt as if I couldn’t hear God’s voice the way I used to. The words in the Bible seemed like cold ink on a page. Prayer felt like sitting anxiously in a lonely room. I was worried — how could I, a priest, preach or help others if I couldn’t hear God’s voice? It went on for months.
Then a friend encouraged me to go on a retreat and spend as much time as possible in silence. After a day or two of quiet prayer, I noticed gentle but clear thoughts of repentance in two specific areas of my life. I asked God for the grace to change, and I went to confession. Suddenly, the divine silence that haunted me was filled with a sense of God’s closeness and goodness. I realized, gratefully, that God had been speaking to me in the quiet voice of my conscience.
This week we hear Jesus say, “My sheep hear my voice. I know them and they follow me”(John 10:27). Jesus links the hearing of his voice to following him. He speaks to us in our conscience in an intimate, personal way, when we most need to hear him. When you feel deaf to God’s voice, perhaps it is time to listen in silence for His voice in your conscience calling you to hear and follow the Good Shepherd of your soul.
I eat breakfast. If I don’t have something substantial, I’m fading by midmorning. Breakfast is my key meal because it sets up my physical wellbeing for the rest of the day.
Spiritually speaking, we need sustenance to get us going. This is true for the Apostles in this Sunday’s remarkable Gospel reading. The risen Jesus makes his third appearance to them in the early morning light and calls, “Come, have breakfast” (John 21:12). The exhausted and cold fishermen sit, and he feeds them bread and fish as the dawn breaks. They are overwhelmed by his presence to the point of awestruck silence. As they eat, their bodies and their hearts come alive. Once refreshed by their morning meal, they will be ready to feed others — indeed, the whole world — with the love of the risen Jesus. But first, they need breakfast from him.
Do you realize how essential early morning prayer is? Jesus desires to refresh us every morning with his word of love, with his grace-filled presence. This week, hear Jesus calling to you: “Come, have breakfast!” Embrace some form of spiritual, meditative practice each morning for spiritual strength to get you going.
It’s common for Catholics to hear the question, “Why do I have to go to a priest to have my sins forgiven?” I’ve never liked that question because not only is it clunky (confession is the ordinary way for the pardoning of serious sins, not lesser ones). But it misses the larger context: the wonderful origins of the sacrament itself. And this context is deeply Jewish.
Ancient Jews associated forgiveness of sins with priests offering sacrifices in the Jerusalem temple. It was a solemn, public, and tangible way to access God’s mercy. So when the risen Jesus breathes on the Apostles and says, “Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and whose sins you retain are retained”(John 20:23), the upshot is remarkable: he is the new temple, and his Apostles are the new priests. Jerusalem is no longer the place to find forgiveness from sin. Jesus’ body, the Church, is.
So why should we go to the Sacrament of Confession? For the same reason ancient Jews went to the temple in Jerusalem: to experience the intimacy, joy, and life-giving power of God’s eternal forgiveness.
When I was a young boy, my parents told me about their wedding. Then a few years later, they showed me my mother’s wedding dress and my dad’s suit. It was astonishing to see and touch garments that connected me to the event that led to my existence. Of course, I already believed they were married based on their word. But these holy garments made the event real and tangible for me.
Something like this is at play when St. John reports encountering in Jesus’ tomb, “the cloth that had covered his head, not with the burial cloths but rolled up in a separate place”(John 20:7). Those two separate cloths, for his head and for his body respectively, meant a great deal to St. John and to the early Christians. Some years after the resurrection, there surfaced reports of two cloths with unusual characteristics, one bearing the image of a crucified man’s body, another smaller one with the image of a wounded man’s face. Some call them the Shroud of Turin and the Veil of Manoppello; they both can be seen today.
These two cloths have a long and complicated history, and scholars debate aspects of them. If you’re curious, I encourage you to read about them. To be clear, I believe in the resurrection of Jesus because of the testimony of eyewitnesses and the gift of faith in the Church. Nevertheless, seeing these two mysterious cloths have made the life-giving event of Jesus’ resurrection more real and tangible for me. Maybe they will for you, too.
“As he rode along, the people were spreading their cloaks on the road.” (Luke 19:36) Consider how useless it is to spread your clothes on the ground for a donkey to walk on. The clothes get smeared with hooves, and who knows the grimy places where they’ve been? The animal may leave some unsavory presents on them. They may get stolen by a thief looking to make a buck. The thorns, thistles, rocks and muck of the road will leave stains. The clothes may never be useful again, and you’ll probably walk home shivering without your normal covering. Yet this is precisely the gesture the people employ to welcome Jesus and his donkey. Why does this detail matter?
Wastefulness is an essential part of celebration. Consider the unnecessary extravagance of Christmas decorations, confetti and ticker tape parades, baseball players spraying each other with bottles of champagne after a victory, birthday gifts for kids and so on. This wastefulness signals celebration and therefore participation in higher identities (as believers, winners, and parents, to mention the above examples). That’s what the wasted cloaks are all about. Those who donate their cloaks participate in Christ’s kingship in Jerusalem — and we savor it two thousand years later.
The lesson? Learn how to “waste”money, time, clothes, and food on Christ. We do this at Mass, but in so many other ways, too, like serving the poor, going on retreats, and doing prayerful study. When we practice this holy wastefulness, Jesus will ride into our lives, and we’ll be more deeply members of his kingdom.
” The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery and made her stand in the middle”(John 8:3). Why do they make her stand in the middle? Why not expose her on the periphery? The reason is something that affects us practically every day.
The center is what stabilizes a community’s identity. We humans tend to center ourselves around an accused and condemned victim — though we rarely admit it. This renews our fragile communities and our power as those who weaponize the accusation. This is effective because it is often a victim who represents something truly dangerous for the group. In this case, adultery stands for the breakdown of a community and those within it, because it forces questions like: who is my father? Whose child is this? Is this child one of us, or that of an outsider? The accusers place the adulteress in the center because their community, like most, is built around turning an enemy into a victim.
Once you understand this, you’ll see it almost anywhere humans’ group together (families, politics, workplaces, sports, schools, etc.). The good news is Jesus exposes this dynamic by deftly pointing out the sin-infected hearts of everyone besides the woman. They all leave, symbolizing the breakdown of the old order, and she is “left alone be- fore him.”A new community has begun, structured around the merciful love of Christ.
What is in your center? What is in the center of our parish and family communities? Strive to center on Christ’s forgiveness, and we experience the new, lasting community we call the Church.
God asks a rhetorical and slightly sarcastic question to Samuel, the prophet: “How long will you grieve for Saul, whom I have rejected as king of Israel?” Like us, Samuel is depressed that the old king failed. It’s painful to admit that the old regime is done. But God won’t let us wallow our pity-party forever. “I am sending you to Jesse of Bethlehem,”announces the Lord, “for I have chosen my king from among his sons.” Samuel finally goes and anoints the young David as the new king. And his kingdom is glorious; it’s the golden age of Israel’s earthly history.
How discouraging to see that my own selfish ego is no longer in charge! How long will I grieve that money, power, pleasure, and reputation have been rejected as the ruler of my life? How wonderful that God has a new future in store for you and me. He is sending us to Bethlehem to anoint the new David as our king. His kingdom won’t fail us. He’ll slay our goliaths, unite our dispersed energies, and build a Temple where God himself will dwell.
My childhood best friend was Xander Price. He was the fastest runner in school, an excellent baseball player and Jewish. Though his family wasn’t intensely religious, I felt totally at home with them despite our religious differences. Everything about their Judaism seemed to under-gird and strengthen my own experience of being a Catholic. I knew they didn’t believe in Jesus like my family did, but I intuited somehow that Jesus was “hiding” in their religion. Like a cat moving under a blanket, ready to emerge at any moment, the Lord was hidden there in a special way.
In the Gospel for this third Sunday of Lent, Jesus says, “For if you had believed Moses, you would have believed me, for he wrote of me” (John 5:46). Stunning words, those. Moses wrote about Jesus. The way therefore that we come to know and believe in Jesus is to discover him lurking in Moses’ writings. The Hebrew Scripture is the wonderful womb in which Jesus gestates within a host of images: Adam, Isaac, David, Melchizedek, the Temple, sacrificed lambs, prophets and so on. Right now, in your parish’s OCIA program, soon-to-be baptized people are carefully studying where Jesus is in the writings of Moses, so that they may believe in him. This works for all of us, too, who wish to deepen our knowledge and love of Jesus.
Lenten challenge: Take some time to prayerfully study one of the images of Jesus listed above in the Old Testament. Identify which one you find compelling and consider why this is so. If you don’t know where to start, begin with the prophet Jeremiah as an image of Jesus
Father John Muir
March 16, 2025 Deacon Ken’s Homily for the 2nd Sunday of Lent
When Abram was about 75 years old, God told him to pack up everything he owned, gather his family and move a great distance. So, Abram packed up and moved into the land God gave him. When Abram was 90 years old years old, he was concerned because he had no children. For Abram, this meant that the steward of his household would be his heir. God’s plan was to give Abram and Sarah a child, and Abram’s descendants became as many as the stars above. “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”Abram fulfills the definition of faith.
When Abram was about 75 years old, God told him to pack up everything he owned, gather his family and move a great distance. So, Abram packed up and moved into the land God gave him. When Abram was 90 years old years old, he was concerned because he had no children. For Abram, this meant that the steward of his household would be his heir. God’s plan was to give Abram and Sarah a child, and Abram’s descendants became as many as the stars above. “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” Abram fulfills the definition of faith.
Much of what are expected to believe and profess as Catholics are certainly a mystery. For instance, the Eucharist as an example. How does bread become the Body of Christ? How does wine become the Blood of Christ? How does eating that little piece of bread and drinking that sip of wine save us? Proof can be found in scripture and in the writings of those who have gone before us, especially the first Christians. Jesus gives all His authority to His apostles. Jesus gives them the Deposit of Faith, which is the truth of the Catholic Faith. The apostles lay hands on their disciples and pass Jesus’ authority to the disciples who in turn become Bishops of geographical areas. Bishops lay hands on others who become priests in cities and towns. Priests then teach the Deposit of Faith through Preaching and Faith Formation. How do we know what we are being taught is true? We can look to those who taught the faith, especially the early Christians.
For example, Saint Justin Martyr taught: “We call this food Eucharist, … For not as common bread nor common drink do we receive these; but since Jesus Christ our Savior was made incarnate by the word of God and had both flesh and blood for our salvation, so too, as we have been taught, the food that has been made into the Eucharist by the Eucharistic prayer set down by him, and by the change of which our blood and flesh is nurtured, is both the flesh and the blood of that incarnated Jesus.” – First Apology, 66 Saint Ignatius wrote: “I have no taste for corruptible food nor for the pleasure of this life. I desire the Bread of God, which is the flesh of Jesus Christ, who was the seed of David, and for Drink, His Blood, which is love incorruptible.”
The words of these saints were written between the years 100 and 107. They were disciples of the apostles. Their faith was passed through time to us. Prompted by the Holy Spirit, the Apostles and those that followed formed their faith. By the same Holy Spirit, our faith is formed.
Faith always comes with reward. Faith is the theological virtue by which we believe in God and believe all that he has said and revealed to us, because God is truth. By faith we commit ourselves to God, and we seek to know and do God’s will. In addition to a faith that believes, we know that our faith calls us to respond, because Faith without works is dead. Saint James said, “Show me your faith without works, and I, by my works will show you, my faith.” Our faith shows when we respond to the pleas of the orphans. We emulate Christ when we care for the destitute. Imagine how much better the world could be if all who professed to be Christians, acted like Christians. What couldn’t we accomplish!
Jesus took Peter, James and John up Mount Tabor and was transfigured before them. Jesus’ face and clothes became dazzling white, and he was seen conversing with Moses and Elijah. They were talking about the great feats of salvation Jesus was about to undertake in Jerusalem. For many, the question is “What’s the big deal about the transfiguration?” The transfiguration strengthened the apostles for what was to occur in Jesus’ life, and in their own lives. Hard times were coming for Jesus and his apostles. Jesus allowed the apostles to get a glimpse of what heaven will be like. The apostles were able to hear the voice of God telling them to listen to his Son. Strengthened in faith by visions and the words of God, the apostles would be able to endure anything the world could throw at them.
If we try, we can think of things in our lives where we know for certain that God’s hand was in the middle of it all. For instance, when a particular scripture speaks directly to us, or when the homily seems to answer the very question, we have been contemplating, we feel God working in our lives. When these instances of grace appear, our faith is strengthened, just as the apostle’s faith was strengthened.
Today, we are thankful that we are children of God, and heirs of God. We remember that to get to glory we may have to suffer just a little while. As we make our way up the mountains and through the valleys of life, may our prayer always be “It is good that we are here Lord”, in your presence, with your people, in your Church.
Deacon Ken Stewart
March 16, 2025 Second Sunday of Lent (Luke 9:28b-36)
St. Thomas Aquinas said that friends share three things: time, possessions and secrets. For example, how do I know if you’re my friend? Well, let’s say we’ve been to Mexico together, you’ve tried my shaky attempts at pasta carbonara, and you know what ridiculous costume I wore in a music video I filmed in my early twenties. We, dear reader, are definitely friends. We’ve shared time, possessions and secrets.
How does friendship with Jesus develop? The same way. Jesus lives and eats with his disciples. Then he takes Peter, James and John to Mount Tabor and there reveals to them his deepest secret: his glorious, divine Sonship. The majesty of God shines from within his humanity in a way that goes beyond description. God the Father confirms this “secret,” saying, “This is my chosen Son, listen to him”(Luke 9:35). It’s all so precious that “they fell silent and did not at that time tell anyone.”Do we take time to be alone with Christ, to allow him to mystically share this “secret” with us as his dear friends?
Lenten challenge: This week, identify one time when you experienced an awareness of some specific aspect of Jesus — perhaps on a retreat, at Mass, in prayer or in an act of service. Spend ten minutes consciously reliving that experience in your heart. If you can’t recall one, set aside at least two hours this Lent as a mini retreat, either alone in nature or in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament. Focus on him and ask him to share the secrets of his heart with you. He will. Then, as his friend, share the secrets in your heart.
— Father John Muir
March 9, 2025 First Sunday of Lent (Luke 4:1-13)
One of the most fascinating moments in American history is when George Washington could have become the king of the newly liberated United States and didn’t. At the height of his power and fame, on Dec. 23, 1783, he resigned his commission as Commander-in-Chief and went home. The astonished King of England remarked that in doing so, Washington was “the greatest man in the world.”Greatness is often defined by what we could do but don’t. Greatness is measured by the temptations we overcome.
Jesus’ greatness is revealed in his victory over temptations, too. The three offered him by the devil contain, we might say, all potential possible temptations: food, power and fame. They correspond to the triple human needs of body, soul and spirit. In overcoming these three, he says “no” in essence to every and even the greatest temptation. We see that every desire of his humanity — body, soul and spirit — is perfectly united to God, to love. This is a power available to each member of his body. It is the path to true greatness. How can we, who so easily fall into even small temptations, find the power to overcome large ones? By entering into the great dynamics of Jesus’ temptations.
Lenten challenge: This first week of Lent, list some concrete ways you can overcome temptations that correspond with your desires. For example, you may give up snacks between meals, choose not to participate in an activity of which you are an expert, and decide to reduce social media posting by 50%. It may not seem like much, but by saying “no” to the tyranny of food, power, and fame (in this example), you’ll discover true greatness.
Deacon Ken’s Homily for the 6th Sunday in Ordinary Times
I’ve got to tell you, this whole week I have been wrestling with the word “Trust” from the Prophet Jeremiah, and the word “Faith” from the Gospel of Luke. I was perplexed why Jeremiah would use the words “Trust in the Lord” and why Luke would use the words “Have faith in God”. I wondered if trust and faith then, were synonymous? While trying to come up with an example to use about trust, the only thing that came to mind was Charlie Brown, Lucy, and a football. I thought to myself, “I can’t use a Charlie Brown comic in my homily”.
So anyway, you recall that Charlie Brown wants to kick a “field Goal” style kick. Lucy always promises to hold the ball for Charlie Brown and as Charlie Brown approaches the ball, at a high rate of speed, Lucy pulls the ball away at the last minute and Charlie Brown falls flat on his back. Lucy is not trustworthy, and Charlie Brown should never put his trust in her.
Jeremiah was a prophet during the time when the Assyrians were being chased out of the Holy land by the Babylonians. It was a time when some Assyrian men were marrying Israelite women and, some Israelite men were marrying Assyrian women. The problem is that those Israelites were being drawn to the religion of the Assyrians and turning away from the God of the Israelites. They were worshiping the God’s and the statues of the Assyrians. Jeremiah is giving those Israelites a stern warning that God will not save them who are worshiping Gods who have lips, but cannot speak, have ears, but cannot hear, and eyes that cannot see.
What Does It Mean to Trust God? Trusting God means that we believe He is reliable and will do what He says he will do. We trust that his word is truth and trustworthy. In this trust we come to believe that if Jesus was resurrected from the dead, that on our death, resurrection will come to us. The book of Proverbs tells us: “Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight” (Proverbs 3:5-6). Trusting in the Lord will not automatically make our ways easy, but it will make our path to Him bearable as we submit to Him.
The Bible contains a clear definition of faith. “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”Simply put, the biblical definition of faith is “trusting in something you cannot explicitly prove.”(Hebrews 11:1) I like the Catechism of the Catholic Churches definition. Faith is: “both a gift of God and a human act by which the believer gives personal adherence to God who invites his response and freely assents to the whole truth that God has revealed. It is this revelation of God which the Church proposes for our belief, and which we profess in the Creed, and celebrate in the sacraments, and live by right conduct”.
I’ve discovered that the Gospel from Saint Luke has two names. The first name is the “Sermon on the Plain”,because of it’s location. The second name is the upside-down Gospel, because in the kingdom, the blessed and the woeful will be reversed from those here on earth. Saint Luke’s focus is on how folks in his day were living the teachings of Jesus. Were they focused on the needs of the poor and marginalized? Are the real social and economic issues of their time being addressed? Saint Luke warns them that failing to care for the needs of others will not only displease God but will bode badly for them in the afterlife. The Lord grieves for the rich because they find solace in their abundance of goods and ignore his teachings about love for one another.
Each of us, no matter our current station in life has the obligation to help others. God indeed has a special place in his heart for the poor. Blessed are you who are poor; the kingdom of God is yours. Woe to you who are rich, but blessed are you who share your riches with the poor. Blessed are you who mourn, but woe to you when you fail to comfort another. When we act on these obligations, we help to make present the Kingdom of God to others.
God calls each of us to be like ripples in a pond seeking to help one, then reaching out for another, and then another. Acting on our obligations makes present the Kingdom of God to us. It draws us into that loving relationship with each other and the relationship that God desires to have with us. On that day we will leap for joy knowing that our reward in heaven will be great. That in God’s eyes not only have we blessed, but we have been blessed. On that day our lives will not have been as an empty waste, but our lives will have borne good fruit.
Trusting in the Lord will get you to the finish line, Faith in God by way of the sacraments will get you over the finish line to resurrection.
May 11, 2025