Faith
Talent
Every priest has a unique gift that he offers the Church. Young men who go straight from high school to seminary offer their youth, extending their priestly ministry by years. Men who enter in middle age or even later in life bring their lived experience to inform their ministry. Some are great preachers, others stunning academics, and still others are driven to give a profound witness through audacious outreach.
Recently, one of our diocese’s scholarly priests celebrated a daily Mass that I attended. Daily Mass is known to be short, mostly owing to the truncated homily. This Mass, however, was different. The readings were on the servant for who his master forgave his “great” debt. The forgiven servant immediately goes out, finds someone who owes him a tiny amount, and throws him into debtors prison. The master finds out and has the wicked servants “handed over to the torturers” until the full debt is repaid.
The homily first took aim at the translation, a “great” or “huge” debt. Going back to ancient translations, he discovered that the debt was originally described in Talents, an ancient denomination. One Talent was equal to 20-30 years wages. Essentially, a laborer, through their whole working life, would earn the equivalent of one Talent. The wicked servant owed his master 10,000 Talents. Not great, not huge, but impossible!
The wicked servant’s debtor, however, owed him 100 Denarii, about 100 days wages.
The entire lifetime of wages for 10,000 laborers vs. 100 days wages for 1 worker.
This somewhat painful parable immediately highlights two things. First, we are indebted to God’s mercy for a debt that we could never hope to repay. Even though we frequent the Sacrament of Reconciliation and experience the wonderment of being in a State of Grace, we keep falling into the same trap. The Passion and death of Jesus, which we’ll soon celebrate, is the payment for the debt of sin that is impossible for us to repay of our accord.
Second, these parables put on full display the genius of Jesus that can only be attributable to the omniscience of God Himself. In a backwater, dusty, hot town 2,000 years ago, Jesus crafted a parable that was readily understood by his illiterate followers and is equally understandable by me, in the most technologically advanced society in the history of the world. They built buildings with simple tools and fished with literal rope. I wrote this blog on a computer only slightly larger than a magazine, using a keyboard that has no physical connections. Yet, the parable still fits exactly to my life.
The parable is reinforced through the Lord’s Prayer, the perfect prayer, “…forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.”
Contend
The nature of the human condition is that we each bear an overriding character flaw. This is colloquially referred to as our crosses to bear, but what it really means is that we will have a singular struggle with sin and failure throughout our lives. It’ll look different from everyone else’s, but it’s our pathway to sainthood.
The problem with habitual sin is the temptation to despair. Almost every time we approach the Sacrament of Reconciliation, it tops our list of failings. Year in and year out, we accuse ourselves, seeking God’s forgiveness once again. In our limited minds, we can understand if God were to grow frustrated with us, but it’s not our place to project onto God our limitations. It’s God’s place to reward our struggle with grace, patience, and ultimately, victory.
In this struggle, as we contend with ourselves and our failures. We’re back to our annual check-in, Lent, where we journey up to Calvary with Jesus, hoping to leave the tomb with Him on Easter morning. If you find yourself in line for Confession this Lent, lamenting your usual roster of sins, remember the line that you’re in. You haven’t given up; you’re still in the fight. God doesn’t want us to surrender to our failures, and He doesn’t want us to be perfect. He wants us to fight, to keep fighting, to keep showing that His love is all that we desire and nothing, not even our own stupid failures, will keep us from Him.
Daily Burn
Each time a pilot prepares to fly an aircraft, he does a fuel calculation. Based on the current weather data and flight plan, he’ll calculate fuel burn and determine exactly how much fuel will be required to safely conduct the flight. Once that calculation is complete, he’ll add in a fixed amount of reserves to ensure that, regardless of what happens once aloft, he’ll make it to his destination.
Fuel planning for a pilot is an operational necessity, as is daily prayer planning for each of us. Fuel powers the plane; prayer powers us.
Each new day greets us with a set of tasks and obligations that must be completed, along with stressors sprinkled in throughout the day. It requires fortitude and discipline to work through your responsibilities and to not give in to the siren song of laziness.
A critical component of our day is prayer. It helps us resist temptation, build love, and act with grace. We need to build a daily routine that will power us to our destination with some room to spare.
Although it does require commitment and discipline, two words which usually are adjacent to something unpleasant, the paradox is that prayer is a respite in our day. It de-stresses us, desensitizes our amped up bodies, and allows the mind the space that it needs. This is the genius of God at work; time reserved for the Creator rejuvenates the entire self.
You will encounter stress and temptation every day. The only question is, will you have enough gas in the tank to fly right past it.
Chasm
There are an infinite number of ways that COVID changed the way in which we live our lives. Though we find ourselves four years removed from the initial outbreak, and more than two years from the return to normal, visages of those early days are still with us, regrettably even at the Mass.
The laity and the priesthood had dramatically different experiences of lockdown. While the church doors were locked, we were prevented from physically receiving the Eucharistic Lord. Although we could rely on solid theology around the idea of a spiritual communion, none of that theology suggests that a spiritual communion is in any way a substitute to the physical presence of our Lord residing within us.
Many priests and bishops went to great lengths to bring the Eucharist Lord to their flocks, through Eucharistic processions in our neighborhoods, and some even taking to the sky to bless the faithful. Though admirable and deeply appreciated in the fog of those days, there’s nothing that can satiate our burning desire to be physically united to the Lord, as He too desires. While we were physically separated from Him, the priests continued to receive Him daily.
It’s difficult for them to know the pain that we felt, unable to return to our parishes, worship God, and receive His strength in our time of need. There’s no doubt that being separated from their flocks was difficult for our priests and bishops, but they had the consolation of our Lord, truly present within them.
That was the reality of those days, and it would be wrong to begrudge our priests the privilege that they possessed in one of the most challenging times in our collective lives. What is wrong, however, is for the restrictions implemented in the spring of 2020 to continue today, precluding the full participation of the laity in the daily life of the Church.
I live in a diocese where the bishop has not reinstituted the reception of the Precious Blood by the faithful. This was one of the earliest changes made to the liturgy in March 2020, and why it continues to this day is baffling.
It’s stipulated that the true presence, even under a single species, is the full and complete Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Jesus. God is indivisible; He is complete, whole, and total, no matter how we receive Him. It’s also true, however, that at the first Mass, Jesus first broke the bread, and then took the cup, telling us to this in memory of Him. This is noteworthy because although one species would be sufficient, His intent was that we receive Him under both species.
The Eucharist is today, as it has been since its institution, deeply scandalous. From the first time that Jesus proposed it, many of His followers went away, never to return. Today, only the Roman Catholic Church, and those in union with it, still possess the true presence. Many Protestant denominations celebrate “communion,” but regard it as perfunctory and performative, a simple commemoration that is merely an adjacent practice of their faith.
Though the theology of the Eucharist is among the hardest to accept, Jesus was unequivocal; the Eucharist is truly His body and truly His blood. Through it, He seeks to nourish His flock in an encounter that is both exclusive and deeply intimate. At the altar, we are fed, and we receive Him physically into our bodies, becoming living tabernacles. Like the love shared between spouses, this is an exclusive experience, reserved for the relationship between the true and living God and His people.
The excessive bureaucracy and clericalism in the Catholic Church that Pope Francis so derided in the early days of his papacy has only grown more entrenched under his reign. COVID broke many things, and though perhaps understandable in the early days, perpetuating this policy of denial is deeply unjust and an affront to the spiritual health and wellbeing of the faithful.
Our priests need the full grace and benefit of our Eucharist Lord to strengthen them to fulfill the high calling of their vocation in the midst of a broken, dark, and hostile world. So, too, do the laity.
Counterfeit Sacrament
It’s been quite the comedown from the moral clarity of Pope John Paul II and Pope Benedict. John Paul stood up to the evils of the communist system and ignited a rediscovery of the beauty and holiness of the human body. Benedict, both as a bishop and then as pope, wielded the sword of truth and the intellectual strength of the Church to destroy the falsehoods that press in on us. They weren’t perfect, and they made many mistakes. Still, they endeavored to ensure that their every word and action was used for the edification of the Church and the salvation of souls.
Then, there’s Francis.
Centuries ago, St. Francis heard the voice of God and rebuilt by hand the Church of San Damiano. Then, he formed a religious institution that began a much-needed renewal of the Church. Today, Pope Francis works ardently to undo his namesake’s good work.
In the 1960s, medical technology openly began to falsely promise that it could provide reliable contraception. The World gave an inch, and libertine society took a mile. Contraception promised that you could control your creative powers with no effort, no thought, no discipline, and no self-control. It promised freedom, control, and bliss; what we got was absolute misery and total dysfunction. Contraceptives are the only application of medicine wherein the sole intent is to disable an otherwise healthy and functioning system. The society of selfishness, hatred, and violence that contraceptives built was predicted by Pope Paul VI in Humanae Vitae, to a point.
The libertine society returned soon thereafter to open a new front on marriage. Two decades ago, they promised that they just wanted legal protections for irregular relationships. The World gave an inch, another mile was taken. Marriage, to the common man, now means nothing. Marriages are entered and exited with little thought, discernment, or seriousness. This is a dangerous development because the family is the basic unit of society; without the family, society collapses.
Today, in the midst of the smoke, fog, and confusion around marriage comes Francis, shrouded in the authority of his office, wearing the distinctive white robe of the papacy, to place a bomb right in the middle of the Sacrament of Holy Matrimony.
The Church has many expressions of faith, but only seven sacraments. These are outward signs, instituted by Christ, to give grace. Six of the Sacraments are celebrated by an ordained priest or deacon. Holy Matrimony is the only one in which the laity are the celebrants. When a man and woman come together at the altar to make their mutual promises and seal their covenant, they confer the sacrament on one another; the priest’s role is solely to witness and bless the marriage.
The Catholic Church recognizes the human person as God’s greatest creation. Intrinsically included in that recognition is the beauty and sanctity of the human body. God granted us a share in His creative powers through our ability to procreate. It’s from this understanding that the Church can recognize when use of our creative powers is good and holy, and when it is wrong. Human sexuality is an essential good inside of marriage because it binds the couple together and, when physiological circumstances are correct, leads to the loving creation of new life. Our creative powers can be studied, observed, and mastered. Indeed, we’re called to be stewards of our creative powers, exercising them judiciously for the greater good.
Sexual activity outside of marriage is always wrong because it contradicts the design and intent of our creative powers. When used outside of marriage, it’s no longer an authentic loving and giving expression, but rather it seeks to serve only itself.
Francis’ new guidelines are a logical fallacy. Though he claims to do them out of pastoral concern, he focuses only on blessing the relationships of same-sex couples. What about cohabitating couples? What about polyamorous relationships? What about polygamous relationships? What about sexual relationships between adults and children? After all, these relationships may too, to quote Cardinal Fernandez in Francis’ guidelines, “desire to entrust themselves to the Lord and his mercy, to invoke his help, and to be guided to a greater understanding of his plan of love and of truth.” Not so pastoral after all.
The truth is, what Francis and his band of tinkerers have done is institute a blessing that cannot be given. They’ve created a counterfeit sacrament. It looks like a marriage, it sounds like a marriage, but it isn’t one. They offer to the world what they cannot give; they promise what they cannot fulfill.
Although they stress the blessings of irregular relationships can only be granted if it’s clear that it’s not a marriage blessing, this is a true distinction without a difference. Francis is not oblivious to the lack of moral, logical, and philosophical education in the world today. He knows precisely how this will be received and interpreted by the vast majority of Catholics who can barely rouse themselves to make it to Mass twice a year. Worse still, how those who have not had the benefit of a Catholic education will receive this news.
In the face of reality, Francis presses forward with his intellectual pogrom. Any bishop or cardinal who dares speak out against this falseness is dismissed from their office and evicted from their home.
The Church exists to ensure the salvation of souls; that is its mission. It stores up grace, guarantees apostolic succession, provides the faithful with validly ordained priests, and assures access to the Sacraments. Its unwavering positions on faith and morals are not some obstinate adhesion to an outmoded and outdated way of thinking. Rather, it’s the culmination of 2,000 years of deeply thinking about and clarifying a basic set of principles. For those of us on earth, the Church is the lighthouse guiding us away from the cliffs and into the safe harbor.
What Francis proposes, as he willfully continues on his campaign of moral confusion, is to set the lighthouse adrift, where it can blink and float wherever the current takes it. The problem is that a lighthouse afloat helps no one. Many, many will be lost to the cliffs as a direct result of the words and actions of this papacy.
Yet, each time Francis pulls out his sledgehammer to destroy another cleric or another part of the Magisterium, irony abounds. This latest pronouncement comes near the end of Advent. A great star has risen. The people who walk, and live, in darkness have seen a great light. A savior is born, the great I AM, the king of kings, and He is the way, the truth, and the life. While we await the arrival of the bridegroom, we must continue to speak with the moral clarity that even the pope himself cannot seem to find.
This is wrong.
Aslan’s Roar
The Chronicles of Narnia are legendary in their own right, a series of books worthy of sparking the imagination of any young reader. As noted before on this blog, they also make for a profound spiritual experience reading them as educated adults.
CS Lewis masterfully translated the genius and mystery of God into a story that is so relatable and comprehensible. It’s a story filled with beautiful imagery, like Aslan strolling across the vast darkness, singing the world into existence through beautiful melody.
Throughout the series, we see Aslan close at hand and seemingly far off. The forces of good and evil are in a constant struggle, at various times each gaining the upper hand. When the children are drawn back to Narnia in Prince Caspian after just one year away in England, they stumble into the ruins of their ancient castle. The story of their existence disputed as fanciful nursery tales.
Whenever the forces of evil are on the march, and victory in their grasp, Aslan always returns in great glory. With a single roar, he marks a return to reality as the force of his voice destroys all who oppose him.
Lewis took the time, in each story, to explore the different dynamics of Christology, from Genesis to Revelation. We see him creating the world and, in his absolute power, crushing evil. The truth in this power is that, though we see evil on the march in our time, and injustice abound, Christ is never far off, ready to herald in a return to reality, the world in which He has already conquered death and reigns supreme.
It’s an honor and a privilege to be counted among Christ’s followers, a side that, though always purportedly on the verge of total defeat, instead exists in the reality in which total victory is already achieved.
Moment of Conversion
Life is a series of checkpoints, moments along the path that lead us to our final destination. In our Christian life, many of these checkpoints are moments of conversion. The culmination of perseverance and hard work, winter breaks, and you experience that fresh, new spring.
These moments are profound times of spiritual insight. We get a taste of the reality we were designed to exist in. Our understanding of our faith, and the wisdom of loving God’s law, is crystal clear. Temptation bounces off us, and an effervescence permeates all aspects of our day.
Those they may be fleeting, grabbing hold of these turning points is critical. We are large ships, and turning is never easy. Incremental progress is the tried and true way to success. Although we may get down the path and lose sight of these lampposts, they remain touchpoints that we always return to. For in these moments, these short periods of time, we live as who we were made to be.
Foretaste
Although easily forgotten in the midst of this week’s kickoff of the end-of-year holidays, the intent of Halloween, All Saints' Day, and All Souls' Day is to remind us of our mortality. Nearing the end of the liturgical year, the Sunday readings focus on eschatology, or the end times. Throughout the Bible, and in the ministry of Jesus, the fact that our time on Earth is transitional is never hidden. We are all walking on pilgrimage, with judgement assured when our journey meets its logical end.
Though it may seem foreboding, reaching the end of that journey should be cause for joy and hope. Our lives are filled with difficulties, sadness, and sufferings that God never intended. It was only through the entrance of sin into our world, and our complicity with it, that these sorrows have befallen us. Still, although sin and sadness are real, we can choose even today to live as God intended. We can love God’s commandments and experience a wholesome, fulfilling and joyful life as the saints have shown us.
Though true, this is all a bit academic. Time ticks away slowly, and it’s hard to keep the mind focused on an eternity of peace and exuberance. This is especially true when the kids have been fighting all day, you still have to put together a grocery order, the cars need to be waxed, and you have a major project due in two days. God designed every facet of our bodies with great purpose and intent, and He understands the challenge of focusing the mind in the midst of stress and a to-do list pouring off the page.
It’s one of the reasons we go to Mass every week. Not only do we need the rejuvenation and the break, but we need reminders of our future at regular intervals. Why do we not lie, cheat, and steal as others do? Because this peace, this calm, this celebration is what we were created for. It’s the great foretaste of what is to come, if only we run the race and win.
Life is not easy, and in moments of stress, exhaustion, and temptation, failure is the path of least resistance when we lose sight of where we’re aiming. There’s a forever of calm and peace waiting for us if only we choose it.
Scriptural Confession
I went to confession last weekend for the first time in many months. I try to go every other week, but things have been crazy busy. The priest was a visitor, whom I’d never met before. In our conversation, he quoted an obscure Bible verse, Malachi 3:8.
Thanks to my completion of the Bible in a Year last year, I immediately had context. After finishing my penance, I pulled out my Bible, and read the whole chapter.
What’s always incredible about the Bible is how timeless it is. It’s a story, a history, of a nation of people who are just like us. I may have better technology and living standards than they did, but I make the same mistakes.
Despite my failings, God always reminds me of the unfathomable depths of His mercy, greater than any sin I may commit. And if I doubt, I can read the words He spoke to the prophet Malachi thousands of years ago and half a world away, as if He spoke them just for me, “…put me to the test, says the Lord of hosts; see if I will not open the windows of heaven for you and pour down for you an overflowing blessing.”
Five Minutes
Spirituality is a major component of what it means to be human. We have a connection with our Creator that is far more personal and intimate than any other in the created world. The main channel of building and developing this relationship is through our prayer life. As with all things in life, it ebbs and flows, and it becomes far too easy to let ourselves get in the way.
A prayer life is the cumulative efforts that we make to spend time with God. But prayer is far more simple. If you have five minutes to be quiet, to be still, and to raise your mind to God, that’s all you need.
Building anything great happens one step at a time. You don’t need a plan to get from where you are to your ideal prayer life. You just need five minutes, today, to start.