Faith
Give War A Chance
There is a grave sickness afflicting our society and culture. Too many people don’t believe in God; in denying His reality, they deny a part of what it means to be human. Humanity’s existence is due to God, but it also comes from God’s desire for intimacy with each one of us. By denying the existence of God, they deny the reality of evil. The two sides to the coin of this sickness is what drives so much of our misery. By separating ourselves from the font of grace, we are caught out in the open, defenseless, against the onslaught of evil.
God is perfection, and His existence does not depend on our acknowledgment of Him or assent to His plans. He can do anything that does not contradict His nature; He can continue to exist perfectly without us, but we cannot exist without Him. He is the author of life, and creates with little more than a simple act of cognition. He thinks, it becomes.
This is quite different from evil. We understand that the source of evil, whom we call Satan, was once God’s most powerful angel. But in a choice, he and his gang chose to reject God. When they separated themselves from Love, they became the total absence of love. Their kingdom, a place we call hell, is the antithesis of Heaven. A place of dread for which words fall short; no love, no joy, no hope, no happiness. A desolate wasteland of misery, agony, and suffering.
God possesses the ultimate creative powers, and shares them with humanity. Satan and his band lack this ability to create. Therefore, they must use cunning, deceit, oppression, possession, and infestation to achieve their ends. They view humanity in the way the Ancient Greek gods did; humans are slaves to be played with. Their works are designed to enslave as many humans as possible, and to use them to accomplish their evil ends.
To deny God is to deny the reality of evil. Without the protection of grace and the sacraments, what hope could any of us have against the power of absolute evil?
Last month, as the students, faculty, and family began the celebration of the Mass at Annunciation Catholic School in Minneapolis, evil struck. The entrance procession, a representation of Jesus’ jubilant entrance into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, concluded and a lone gunman opened fire through the Church windows. Two children died, killed in hatred of their faith, and many more were wounded. Those who were not struck will carry the terror of that moment with them for the rest of their lives.
On one of the magazine rounds recovered at the scene was the sadistic inscription, “Where is your God?”
Our faith tells us that the Mass is the source and summit of the life of the Church. It is the point in which Heaven comes down to earth, and earth is pulled up into Heaven. Wherever our Eucharistic Lord is, there too is Mary, Queen of Heaven and Earth. Present with her is the angelic host, the company of saints, the white-robed army of martyrs, the entire community of the Church is all present at the altar, singing the praise of God. We are privileged to partake in such a celebration, the great foretaste of what is to come, though our eyes are prevented, at least for now, from seeing this truth.
It was at this moment, in the presence of God Himself, that evil struck. An act of terrorism, carried out against the innocent solely because of their Catholic faith. Though shocking in our society of laws, this story is tragically not new. Since Christ established the Catholic Church, the faithful and Her priests have been beaten, stabbed, gunned down, and blown up in sanctuaries around the world. With whatever tool it can grab, evil strikes again and again.
In the face of terrorism, many blame the weapon. If only they didn’t have that gun, it would’ve been better. If they didn’t have that gun, they would’ve grabbed another. Or a knife, or a club, or a bomb, or a truck. The pencil lies on the table and does nothing; only when the hand picks it up does the pencil write.
Our response to this inscrutable evil, so often ridiculed, is prayer. But why prayer? Why not regulation, confiscation, or legislation? These things may help, but evil does not recognize City Ordinance or federal code. We cannot impose judicial sanction on a demon. The correct choice in this fight against evil is the most powerful weapon: prayer.
I once saw a bumper sticker from the 1st Ranger Battalion. It had the regimental crest with a play on the classic, “Give Peace A Chance” bumpersticker from the anti-war movement. It said simply, “Give War A Chance.” The only response to evil is to fight back, hard, with prayer.
Demons flee from the very name of Mary, one of St. Joseph’s titles is “Terror of Demons.” That is when we merely invoke their name. This is true power. In prayer, we join with the entire community of the Catholic Church, stretching all the way back to the shores of the Sea of Galilee and far beyond us into the future. We add our voices to the Heavenly host of angels, the saints who’ve come before us, and Catholics around the world to push back against evil and to bring God’s kingdom forward.
Thoughts and prayers aren’t a throwaway comment, but a personal promise to take upon our shoulders the burdens and sorrows of others. It’s a pledge to dedicate the precious, intimate time we share with our Creator in petition for them. We give over our time, efforts, cares, and emotions for the good of those for whom we promise to prayer. It’s a commitment to stay in the fight and to never give up on the promises of Christ, who said He would hear and answer every prayer.
When the news is this dark, it’s easy to feel overrun. Despair is a tool of evil because if we lose hope in God’s promise, we will stop fighting against evil. But there’s a plot twist. Not only is evil deprived of the ability to create, it has already lost. Christ’s return is coming, at a time and place that only He knows. At that time Satan, all his evil spirits, and all those humans who by their choice rejected God’s love and offer of friendship will be cast, once and for all, into hell. Time is limited and running out, and with that urgency evil courses through our homes, neighborhoods, and countries.
God is real, and so is evil. The battle rages on daily within us and on the streets. Pick up your Rosary, go to Mass, and give war a chance.
One Week
This summer was the first time Benedict went off to overnight camp by himself. The camp was a Catholic co-ed camp that came highly recommended by his uncle. We drove him over on a Sunday afternoon, got his bunk set up, and said goodbye.
As I backed out of the parking lot, he was standing, hands in his pockets, with his counselor and two other boys. A football was being thrown, other parents were getting their kids set up, and everyone was milling about. I wasn’t sure at that moment how things would go.
Throughout the week, the camp posted photos of the activities. Alison and I would wait up late into the evening for the day’s photo dump, and try to quickly find pictures of Benedict. The kids were playing paintball, goofing off at the waterfront, climbing on the high ropes course, and more. There were photos of the liturgies and adoration. The first day, there was a group picture; he looked good. There was a second, more casual picture, he looked like part of the crew. There was a picture of him in the high ropes harness, he looked happy.
We sent him notes throughout the week; ones from us, ones from family, even ones from the dog. He wasn’t able to reply, but each day’s photo haul brought more reassurance. Wednesday’s picture had him in Adoration, touching the Monstrance, looking serene.
Pickup was on Friday at noon. I took his sisters, and we found a seat in the back of the Church. The kids were giving testimonies about their experiences, I looked at the line and saw Benedict in the back. This is not something I’d expect Benedict to do, but sure enough, he did. He shared about his doubts before camp and now, having encountered God, is changed. We celebrated Mass, grabbed his gear, and began the trek home.
It was about 75 minutes of driving to get to lunch at Chick-fil-A and Benedict talked the whole time. He talked non-stop about his week of fun, faith, and friends.
It’s been a month since camp, but the change in his interior life is shining through. It’s incredible what just five days can do when you’re open to it. If only we as adults had the faith and innocence of children, what great things could we experience?
Resets
Constant renewal is the call of the Christian life, and the desire for starting fresh marries up nicely with cultural pulls. We want to live our best lives, and we would like to do it all at once, starting now. I would rather not be who I am today, so staring now, I’m a new person.
These resets come on strong, especially in the new year, but fizzle quickly. Inertia overtakes momentum and, as it turns out, we’re the same people we always were.
This desire for positive change, admirable as it is, is a recognition that I am not who I want to be. Instead of becoming that person someday, what if there was a way we could start it today?
There is such a way, to be made entirely new, to be handed a fresh opportunity to live life a different way, and that is through the Sacrament of Reconciliation. In it, we name the ways in which we have fallen, gaining power over them, and receive the very grace of God to begin life anew.
Resets are important, and when you walk out of the Confessional, you can be entirely certain that you’re made new. The only question is, what are you going to do with this reset?
Why
It’s easy to tell ourselves that we should trust in God. We should, but we rarely act like it. Instead, we turn to humanity’s favorite question, “Why?”
Why does life have to be so hard, why am I here, why do I feel so insecure?
These questions are relatable and understandable. While they may reflect an inner disposition that is spiritually ill, the search for answers also opens up for us a doorway towards the mind of God.
Our purpose is to know, love, and be in a relationship with God. God wills what is truly good for us, but for that desire to be complete, we must participate. We have to yield what, we think, is good for us to give way to what is actually good for us.
Every challenge that we face, every situation that generates a thousand why’s gives us the chance to respond with a single yes. We do not have the full picture, but by trusting in God’s providence, in His trustworthy promises, we can be confident that the Why is for our own good, and the good of others.
Doubt
St. Thomas, along with his brother Apostles, spent three full years in ministry with Jesus. He traveled with them, lived with them, ate with them, and slept with them. He saw the great works of Jesus, and experienced the highest highs and the lowest lows.
After the Resurrection, he was the only Apostle not present when Jesus first came into the Upper Room. Upon his return, his brothers must have been ecstatic to share with him further confirmation that the Easter rumors were true. His response?
“Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger into the nailmarks and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.” John 20:25
He heard this incredible news, the fulfillment of what he dedicated a considerable portion of his adult life to, and he doubted. One quote in a man’s life, forever tagged with the “Doubting Thomas” moniker.
The insertion of this story, but also the fact that one Apostle was conspicuously absent when Jesus appeared, is an injection of hope for us modern-day doubters. We’ve read the stories, heard the news, and studied the theology. But still, no matter how great and personal our encounters with God have been, we have moments where we question. Can it all be true? How can this be real?
In His ministry, many people asked Jesus to work signs and wonders for Him.
Many of them were probably sincere in their doubt. They thought, “If I could just see something with my eyes, then I can be freed of this doubt and believe.” It’s easy to imagine how we would react if Jesus was back, but we only learned about him on short form videos and social media. Would we believe?
Doubt is curiosity of the intellect, contending with difficult truths, and discovering the beautiful gift waiting for us in plain sight. God asks us to have faith like children: they hear and believe. Still, He will be satisfied with our belief if we choose to accept and love Him after a review of the evidence.
St. Paul told us to test everything. True doubt is not an outright rejection, but a reserved acceptance. We want to believe, but we need to gather more information. The test of or mettle is what conclusions we draw at the end. Have the courage to go out and find that information; read the documents, find the right book, listen to podcasts, and go deeper in prayer. Place your finger into the nailmarks and your hand into His side. And in the final analysis, when you have all the research and your hands are covered in His blood, choose life.
Vocation
In God’s plan of salvation, we each play a role. Whether quietly ministering to our corner of the world, or gaining some degree of fame through skill or office, we’re invited to do our small part to carry forward His vision. In Catholicism, we traditionally consider this to be vocation. Every vocation is one of service and holiness; what changes is the recipients of our good actions. In marriage, spouses minister to each other and their families, calling both on to holiness. In priestly and religious life, the recipients of ministry is the Church herself.
Yesterday we celebrated the 40th jubilee of the priest who married Alison and I. For one hour, thirteen years ago, this priest celebrated our wedding and now our home is full of children striving for holiness. And that was just one hour of his priesthood.
Moments like this lay bare the effect of good works and good action. In one small moment, one yes can reverberate throughout time and space causing more goodness, more light, more holiness. This is the power of yes and the power of vocation, like a ripple in a lake, growing bigger and spreading far beyond just the first action. Though we may not always see it, or even know its effects, we always accomplish greater things when we say yes to God and to our vocation.
Gaze
The disciples in yesterday’s Gospel were sent out in pairs to proclaim the good news and returned joyful at what they experienced. With only the holy name of Jesus, they were able to project power over evil. As the Apostles continued the ministry of Jesus after Easter, people would lay the sick out on the path before the Apostles in hopes that their shadow might bring healing.
Of the four types of prayer, adoration is set apart. It doesn’t ask for anything, but instead returns to God the love and honor He is due. It’s a prayer of praise for who God is. In a philosophical sense, it is the metaphysical acknowledgment of God as He is. David captures the spirit of this prayer perfectly:
So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary, beholding your power and glory. Psalm 63:2
Eucharist Adoration is a powerful experience because it’s a personal encounter with Jesus. We sit in the sanctuary, a holy place set apart, and gaze upon our Lord; and He gazes back. It’s a profound moment of created and creator, together. We cannot look at God, and be seen by Him, and not be changed.
Time in prayer is never wasted, and all types of prayer have their proper place. In petition, we bring God our needs. In contrition, we express our heartfelt regret for our errors. In thanksgiving, we show gratitude for many blessings. In adoration, though, we recognize the reality of God and praise His greatness.
Deafness
Like characters in the Bible, there are many stories in the lives of the saints that we can identify with. Saints are not perfect people, but imperfect people who rose above themselves to live heroic virtue. St. Augustine’s culturally acceptable lifestyle before his conversion is perhaps the easiest example. So, too, is Peter’s distancing himself from Jesus on Good Friday.
The hardest part about living the Christian life to the fullest isn’t just walking away from the ease and convenience of normal. The hardest part is confronting the question: what if it’s all real?
What if, at the Mass, that bread and wine is truly flesh and blood? What if, in Eucharist Adoration, I’m looking upon the physical body of God? What if the stories of Marian apparitions are true? What if Mary really did appear to Juan Diego and paint her image on his cloak with flowers? What if St. Padre Pio could be in two places at once, and what if his stigmata is real?
The list is endless, but if it’s all real, what would I have to change about myself? If I encountered Truth and accept it, I could never be the same. Everything would have to change as I conform myself to God’s Will, and lay down my priorities. And, what if, in doing so, I end up more free, more joyful, authentically happy, and satisfied.
St. Augustine describes God as calling and shouting, breaking through his deafness so that he could hear Truth and be transformed. God makes all things new, and wants nothing more than our freedom. We can go to the ends of the earth, and He will still be there. When He does break through, when we do hear His message, may we choose well.
Fiat
God’s perfect plan is predicated on the participation of man. This principle, though it confounds human understanding, is most brilliantly illustrated in Mary’s fiat. Her yes set in motion a ripple that continues to move throughout space and time.
In each of our lives, we are asked for the same yes. God places us precisely where His plan needs us, in the family and surrounded by the people He chose. He wants us to help in His mission and plan, but he can only do so with our consent.
God’s love for us is ardent, and it can be confusing for Him to love us this intensely, but then also to grant us free will. The self-reinforcing nature of God only further validates His existence. If God does love us with a love that is so pure, how could He at the same time impose it upon the beloved against their wishes? How could He, in the name of love, violate the autonomy of the beloved? Instead, respecting His nature, He offers love unconditionally, and then waits patiently.
In every case where someone has given their yes, God has done incredible things. Most of them, we will never know. But some of them, namely in the lives and virtue of the saints, we do know. These are ordinary people, anonymous to culture, who allowed God’s grace to work through them, whose names are now raised to the honor of the altar.
God has great things in store for us, but He needs our fiat to get started.
Let the Fire Fall
It’s easy to see fire as purely destructive. There’s nothing quite as jarring as seeing a photojournalist’s images of a neighborhood after a wildfire sweeps through. The homes reduced to slabs, mighty timbers turned into toothpicks, fully loaded cars left behind as empty husks. But fire’s role in our ecosystem is essential to new life.
Fire consumes all that it touches. It takes the dead and the detritus and sweeps it away, reducing it to elemental nutrients that are essential to the creation of new life. Pests and disease lose their hosts and are wiped out; animal life finds new homes in the burned trees. Nitrogen, phosphorous, and potassium are released into the soil through the ash functioning as a natural fertilizer. Certain timber and brush seeds lay dormant in the ground until a fire sweeps through to activate their growth cycle. Out of the charred landscape, nature heals itself and green shoots appear. The fire did not destroy for destruction’s sake; it cleared the path for something wholly new.
In Scripture, we see the Holy Spirit appear in two forms: dove and flame. The dove flies over Jesus at His baptism in the river Jordan. Sacred art never omits the Spirit’s presence at this moment in Jesus’ life, as He emerges from anonymity and begins His public ministry. The dove, like the messenger to Noah that the flood was over, is white and pure, and symbolizes the physical presence of God.
After Jesus’ passion, death, and resurrection, He spent time encouraging the Apostles and making final preparations for the sending forth of the Church. But after He ascended back into Heaven, His once courageous friends reverted to the mean. They were simple men, up against a government, institutional religion, and the scholar class. They, understandably, cowered in the upper room. This was their safe place, and it was easier to be among friends than to be out challenging the world order.
These close personal friends of Jesus spent three years living with Him and experiencing every incredible public and private moment with Him. With just a short period of His physical absence, they couldn’t cope. They were the best evangelists in the history of the Church, hand-picked and trained by God, and yet they doubted their ability to take the gift they were given and distribute it to humanity.
In this locked, hidden place, fire burst through. Like the episode right after Easter, the Apostles cowered and God entered. God with them, and no longer restrained in their belief, they spread out to the corners of the known world and experienced every grace, challenge, and persecution that is evangelization. The fire of the Holy Spirit cleared out the fear and old ways of their prior life. They were sent into the world, standing in truth, and confident in their training.
One of the great benefits of the Bible that it shows us that the difficulty of our flaws and situations are not unique. We have a proud heritage of people of virtue failing miserably, but refusing to give up. Always push forward, never settle. We are never alone and we can always know the end of the story: fire comes in and God wins.
The Holy Spirit is with us, burning in our hearts, pushing us today to share the truth we hold in our hearts with family and stranger alike. This is a mission that seems too important to be entrusted to us, and incredibly it is our charge. If this is what we were made for, if this who we are, if this is the greatness and adventure for which God has brought us to this place and at this time, then let the fire fall.