Feast of the Holy Family

On Being Twelve
1 Sm 1:20-22, 24-28
1 Jn 3:1-2, 21-24
Lk 2:41-52

Each time this Gospel is read, people always begin to question Mary and Joseph. How could they not know where Jesus was? How could they have lost their kid? Well, how many of you have ever dealt with a twelve year old? Twelve year olds have a disconcerting way of disappearing. They can vanish, making everyone think someone else knows where they are, until you realize no one knows where they are. Perhaps a better question would be, what was Jesus doing? Why would he have gone of from his parents that way? Certainly he had to know they were looking for him. The short answer is Jesus was being twelve. Now, of course there are differences between being twelve then and being twelve now, indeed under Jewish law Jesus was nearly an adult. An adult in a religious sense, much the way we see our children after confirmation. Adults in the faith, but not in much else. But, Jesus was simply being twelve. Twelve year olds may not be adults, but it is an age when they begin to stretch their wings, they begin to separate themselves from their parents, they begin to take the first step toward independence. Too often they like to think they are capable of that independence, but we know, and they may learn, that they are not. They still need their parents, the guidance, the protection, and the help. Jesus was just being twelve. When Mary and Joseph found him, and asked why he was doing this, his answer was vintage twelve year old. He was determined that he had to be about the work he came to do, but, he was not ready, it was not time. Obediently, he went with them back home, back to Nazareth, where he grew in wisdom and favor in the eyes of God and man.
All of us are twelve years old, all of us. We like to believe that we are independent, that we don’t need anyone or anything, but we do. We are twelve. We long to break free, to do things on our own without any help, but too often we find that as much as we like to think we are independent, we are not. We do things on our own and all too often make a spectacular mess of it. We are still dependent, we still need God. No matter what we do, we cannot escape our need for God. When we do break away, God comes to find us, to bring us home so that we may grow in wisdom and favor in the eyes of people, and in the eyes of God. We aren’t ready yet, we need God. When God finds us, and wants to bring us home, we must do as Jesus did, follow, and stay with God. After all we’re only twelve. We’re just not ready yet.
Deacon John
Feast of the Holy Family
Dec. 31, 2006

On the Feast of Stephen

I sat here much of today trying to think of something pithy to say on the Feast of St. Stephen. After all, we celebrate Stephen as protomartyr and protodeacon, and since I am a deacon, this is an important feast day for me. But I struggled with what to say, nothing seemed to be there. Then the juxtaposition of this day, the Feast of St. Stephen, and Christmas day, struck me. It is indeed interesting that the feast of St. Stephen follow the celebration of the birth of Jesus. Jesus is the absolute model of servant, the example we all learn from. Stephen is an example of one who learned. Stephen was a servant, but a servant leader, one who led through the example of his service, the example he learned from Christ. Stephen spoke about Jesus to all who would listen, without hesitation or fear. Even when his zealousness for Christ led to his death, Stephen continued to proclaim the Good News of Jesus Christ. Indeed, he even followed the example of his Master to the last, forgiving those who stoned him. As a deacon, I look to that example, that courage, that fearless proclamation of Jesus, and pray that I can live up to it. As a deacon, particularly, I feel the urgency of that call, and the need to follow that example. All of us are called to follow that example. We find it difficult, though few of us will ever face the dire consequences faced by Stephen. May Stephen's example be a model to us all. St. Stephen, Protodeacon and Protomartyr, pray for us.
Deacon John
Feast of St. Stephen
Dec. 26, 2006

Chritmas thoughts

Last night, at the Vigil Mass for Christmas, I stood in the back of the Church waiting to process in with the acolytes. As I stood there waiting, the Chritmas lights blazed in the church, the main lights not yet on. The choir above me in the loft sang beautifully, and I looked over this scene and thought to myself, this is why I am a Catholic. The reality of what we profess to believe was palpable, and ther was no where else I wanted to be at that moment. May you experience the peace and joy of this day, may you walk in the light of the newly risen Son.
Peace,
Deacon John
Christmas Day, 2006

Christmas Day

May the peace and joy of the newborn Christ be with each of you this day.

Is 9:1-6
Ti 2:11-14
Lk 2:1-14

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light.” This time of year the debate over the celebration of this season is unavoidable. What exactly are we celebrating? People will make reference to ancient winter solstice festivals, celebrations of the coming of the sun, the return of light into the world. Almost every culture I can think of has some type of winter solstice celebration. Each celebrates the rising of the sun. Many will say that that is all we are really celebrating, that Christmas is simply one more solstice celebration. To which I ask, what exactly is your point? You celebrate the rising of the sun whose light prepares to warm the earth. We celebrate the rising of the Son, whose light shines throughout the gloom and darkness, to prepare our souls to return to our God. What time of year could be more appropriate to celebrate the coming of the Son than the time of year that sees the return of light. Just as the sun brings more physical light into the world, the Son brings the light of salvation, of joy, of peace. We see because of this light. We see that we need not continue to live in the darkness of our sin, but can now step into the light, the light of the Son. May that light shine on each of us and illuminate for us the path to our God. May this Christmas Day bring you the blessings of the Light of Christ.
Deacon John
Christmas
Dec. 25, 2006

Fourth Sunday in Advent

Mi 5:1-4a
Heb 10:5-10
Lk 1:39-45

Now is the time for us to believe that what the Lord has promised will be fulfilled. Mary chose to believe. She accepted what God wanted to accomplish through her, and thus made possible the birth of Jesus, the day we now prepare to celebrate. Mary heard God’s call, and allowed God to work through her. Now is the time for us to hear that same call, and to allow God to work through us. God can and will work through us, but it must be our choice. The Lord is fast coming, and the time for preparation draws to a close. Now is the time to decide. Do we allow God to work through us, or not? The time to prepare ends, the time to decide arrives. Will we accept the one who is coming? Elizabeth asked Mary, “how does this happen to me that the mother of my Lord should come to me?” We may well ask how does this happen to us that the Lord of the universe come to us? It happens because we are the children of God, God’s own creation. God comes and soon. The time for preparation draws to a close. Now is the time to believe, to accept, to know that what God promises will be fulfilled.
Deacon John
Fourth Sunday in Advent
Dec. 24, 2006

Third Sunday in Advent

Zep 3:14-18a
Phil 4:4-7
Lk 3:10-18

I think it may be safe to say that in order to accomplish almost anything, it is important to understand the rules surrounding what we want to do. To play a game, for example, I have to know how to play the game, I have to know the rules. In chess, if I do not understand how the various pieces can move, I cannot play the game. Once I learn the rules, I can play. The problem, just knowing the rules and abiding by them isn’t enough. Knowing the rules of chess does not make me a chess master. To become a master I have to find a way to transcend the rules, to go beyond them. I have to master the rules so that I can make them work for me. The rules can be limiting, or they can open new horizons we were not able to see before. Knowing the rules of chess will allow me to develop a strategy to use in playing the game. But first, I must know and understand the rules. In the Gospel today john the Baptist is preaching and admonishing each group he speaks about obeying the rules. He tells them to know and keep the law. Yet John acknowledges that simply knowing the rules isn’t all there is. One can transcend the rules, go beyond them and use them as a way to develop a strategy for living. Getting there, however, will take more than John has to offer. John can lead, but only so far. To go beyond the rules, beyond the law, requires the advent of the one John is preaching about. John is making ready the way, opening the door, making the law available so that we might learn it, so that we might hear the voice of the one who is coming, a voice that leads us beyond simple obedience, a voice that helps us craft a strategy for living, living the word of God.
Deacon John
Third Sunday in Advent
Dec. 17, 2006

Second Sunday in Advent

Bar 5:1-9
Phil 1:4-6, 8-11
Lk 3:1-6

John heard a call. John heard a call urging him to out and preach repentance, a call urging him to bring people back to God, and to prepare them for what was to come. John was to prepare the way of the Lord. John was o prepare the people for the one who was to come. John knew that someone was coming, but I don’t believe he knew when. The one who was to come surely must have been close, but as far as John Knew it could be tomorrow, or next week or next year, or in a hundred years. It didn’t really matter, his job was to get the people ready, no matter when the one who was to come would arrive. I wonder if at times John wondered if what he was doing was worth it. Did he ever wonder if he was wasting his time? Yes, big crowds came to hear him and to see him, and John had a loyal group of followers. Just because a lot of people came, it doesn’t mean a lot of people heard what John was saying. Many came from simple curiosity. Let’s go look at the wild man in the desert, it ought to be a good time. Remember, they didn’t have movies or television, so maybe John feared at times that he was no more than cheap entertainment. It may have all seemed difficult and pointless until the day the one John preached about came. He came, and John knew that all he had been doing was worth it. He had done his best to prepare the way of the Lord.
We have that same call. We are called to prepare the way of the Lord. Whether it be through preaching, or simply through the way we live our lives, we are called to make ready the way for the one who is to come again. It can be difficult to live a life devoted to following God. You will be seen as different, you will seem, at times, out of place. People will disagree with you, mock you, or just ignore you. After a while it can seem pointless. It would be easier to just give in. After all, unlike John, we haven’t seen him yet, he hasn’t come back around, or so we may think. But he is with us, he is with us everyday, he comes to us every day. He come to us each day in the celebration of the Eucharist, he is made manifest to us in the Most Blessed Sacrament. He is with us, he has, does, and will come to us. When the struggle begins to seem pointless, go to Jesus, present to us in that Eucharist. Just like John, we can see the one who was promised. We simply must look.
Deacon John
Second Sunday in Advent
Dec. 10, 2006

First Sunday in Advent

Jer 33:14-16
1 Thes 3:12—4:2
Lk 21:25-28, 34-36

Anticipation, waiting, it can be a good thing or it can be a bad thing. When we were children the anticipation of a good thing, like Christmas, was almost unbearable. As Christmas approached the days got longer and longer. Days were weeks, weeks seemed like months, and the big day seemed like it would never arrive. The joy of the day made all of the waiting worthwhile. Indeed, the waiting, the anticipation, made the day that much bigger. Then there is the other anticipation, the anticipation that is better expressed as dread. You know what I mean, you did something stupid, and your parents send you off to your room to await the decision, the decision that you are sure will affect your fate for the rest of your life. The longer you waited, the worse you were sure the punishment was going to be. Maybe they were even checking to see if what they wanted to do was legal! The fear of what was to come made the wait unbearable. As we enter this season of Advent we prepare, we anticipate the birth of the Christ child, an occasion of great joy. So, if we are preparing to celebrate such a joyous occasion, why does the Church start us off with a reading about an event that we anticipate, but not quite so gleefully? We anticipate the return of Jesus, even say that we look for it, long for it, but, do we really mean it? Really, if you asked 10 people if they looked forward to the Second Coming with joyful anticipation, I believe they would say no. We don’t look forward because we are afraid. Afraid that we won’t measure up, that we will somehow fall short. Well, of course we will. We can never measure up and we will always fall short. We fall short because we forget to rely on the grace that is available to us because of that first coming of Christ, the one we are supposed to be getting ready to celebrate. But the grace of that first coming, the grace that entered the world because of Christmas, makes it possible for us to look forward to the Second Coming of Christ as well. Advent is a time of anticipation, a time, hopefully, of preparation. Prepare, prepare by calling on the grace that God has granted each of us through Jesus. His birth is our birth as well. There is no need to fear, accept him, accept the grace he brings us, for he has given us much to look forward to.

Deacon John
First Sunday in Advent
Dec. 3, 2006

Advent Thoughts

Ah, December, and the beginning of the Christmas season. Just think, seemingly endless parties, social obligations to be met, presents to be bought, more stress than anyone should have to endure. We struggle through December, dreading the next obligation, hoping we didn’t forget anyone, longing for that ideal Christmas from the past, you know, the one that never really existed in the first place. It’s enough to make you wish it was August instead. We invest so much time and energy to get to the big day the only thing we are when it finally comes (and goes) is relieved. Somehow, I don’t think relief is supposed to be the dominant feeling about Christmas. I say we remember an older tradition, a time that has been lost in the commercial glitz of Christmas, I say we remember Advent. Advent, a season set aside to prepare for Christmas, not commercially, but spiritually. Advent is a time for us to stop, reflect on the year that is passing, and reflect on what the day we are about to celebrate really means. During this hectic month of December, take a little time out each day, not much, just a couple of minutes, and think about why we are doing all of this celebrating in the first place. Stop, and think about the One who came and is to come again, and maybe the arrival of Christmas Day can mean more than just a sigh of relief.
Peace,
Deacon John

Tuesday of the 34th Week in Ordinary Time

Rev 14:14-19
Lk 21:5-11

Time, for us, appears to be linear. The span of our lives is so short that we often miss the great expanse of history, and we fail to realize that time is anything but linear. Indeed, time, rather, is cyclical. Things come and things go, and then they come back again. Just look around, what was old is new. Nothing ever stays the same. This is true in the larger society, in history. At the time Jesus lived Rome dominated most of the world. Many, I’m sure, believed that domination would last forever. But, in time, Rome declined, fell, and another power rose to take Rome’s place. Closer to us in time, not that many years ago, England ruled a vast empire that stretched across the entire globe. The sun never set on the British Empire. In time, however, the sun did set on that Empire, and England was no longer quite the power it had been. The ascendancy of America and our rise to superpower has many believing that we will stay on top forever, but, in time, we will decline, and another power will take our place. Nothing lasts forever. That is the point that Jesus was making in the Gospel reading today. Looking at the magnificence of the Temple, who would have believed that on day not one stone would be left on another? But that is what Jesus said. Even this glorious place will fall. Nothing lasts forever, except God. In all of the change that swirls around us, there is one constant, God. God is always there, the One who always was, the One who is, and who always will be. There is great comfort in that thought. Though everything around us may change, God’s presence, God’s love, will always be there, ever present, ever ready to take us in and shelter us from the storm around us. That is reason to pray, to praise, and to be thankful.
Deacon John
Tuesday of the 34th Week in Ordinary Time
Nov. 28, 2006

Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ the King

Dn 7:13-14
Rev 1:5-8
Jn 18:33b-37

The idea of a king is supposed to be a foreign one to us Americans. After all, we are the great democracy, right? All people are created equal, no one can claim to be greater before the law than another. At least that is the way it is supposed to work. We don’t have an official royalty or an official aristocracy, but that doesn’t mean we Americans don’t have one. There must be something in us that seeks a role model, someone that we look up to, that we want to emulate. There is always that desire to be like someone else. Without an official aristocracy, we Americans have created one. It is an aristocracy made up of movie stars, athletes, wealthy business people, all manner of famous people, some famous just for being famous. We place these people on a pedestal, we want to be like them, we want the things they have. We want fame and fortune, just like they have. We want the talents, the abilities, or at least the money, that this self-imposed aristocracy has. But what a group we have chosen to look up to. Brittney and Paris and Tom and Katie may be the latest thing, the aristocracy we have chosen, but do we really want to be like them, really? We use them, and their earthly kingdom, to fill a void, a place in our selves that acknowledges that something is missing, that there is one piece of this puzzle that we don’t quite have. This earthly kingdom will never quite fill the void. Tom and Katie are on the pedestal today, only to be replaced by a new king and queen tomorrow. They are not the piece of the puzzle that we lack. To finish the puzzle we must look to the one whose kingdom is not of this world. Pilate asked him, “Then you are a king?” The only true king replied, “For this I was born and came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” We must seek to belong to the truth. There is in us something that seeks to find some one to emulate, someone to follow. We can look to the shallow and worldly, never quite finding what we want. Or, we can look to the one who testifies to the truth, to the King of Kings.
Deacon John
The Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ the King
Nov. 26, 2006

Feast of the Presentation

Rev 3:1-6, 14-22
Lk 19:1-10

“Zacchaeus, come down quickly, for today I must stay at your house.” An invitation all of us are given, not just Zacchaeus. All of us are asked to come down quickly, for Jesus longs to be with us. Of course, Zacchaeus had to come down because he was in a tree, trying to see Jesus, trying to catch a glimpse, and because of his short stature, he had to climb the tree to see Jesus. Well, there is short, and there is short. I propose to you that we are as short as Zacchaeus, and without climbing we cannot see him either. It would be easy, I suppose, to stay in the crowd, maybe catching a quick glimpse of Jesus, but if we choose that route, are we fulfilling the call that came to us in Baptism? Baptism was a step, the first step in climbing that tree, that tree of Sacraments and graces that allows us to see Jesus. Even climbing the tree isn’t something we can do alone. We need help, we need guidance, we need examples. Mary, whose feast we celebrate today, is just such an example. She shows us the power of trust, she shows us the power that comes in unconditional love. For that example we must be grateful. In our own lives we have examples that are closer, more personal to us. I am thinking today particularly of the example I received from my father. In the deaf community he was a leader. He was a leader because of his generosity, generosity with time; we had no money. He loved us, his family, and he loved his family of the deaf. He gave unselfishly, he worked to make life better for all deaf people, for all people. He modeled true diakonia, true service. He climbed the tree and showed me the way. It has been nine years, nine years to this day since he finally climbed the tree to the top, no need to come down again. May I climb half as far.
Peace,
Deacon John
Feast of the Presentation
Nov. 21, 2006

Thursday of the 32nd Week in Ordinary Time

Plmn 7-20
Lk 17:20-25

When traveling, particularly by car, with a small child, there is one thing you can be sure you will be asked. It doesn’t matter if you have been gone five minutes or five hours. You are going to be asked the dreaded question, “Are we there yet?” You can explain until you are blue in the face, you can try anything you like, the child just doesn’t quite get the concept of how long it will take to reach your destination. That question, are we there yet, is an interesting parallel with the Gospel reading for today. The Pharisees are asking Jesus about the Kingdom of God. When will it arrive? Or, “Are we there yet?” Were they looking for a physical place, a land to drop from the sky, with a flashing neon sign announcing “Kingdom of God, This Way ”? Perhaps they expected a Kingdom that would be politically and militarily powerful, one that would chase out the Romans, re-establish the political power of Judah, maybe even do a little conquering of their own. They wanted to know when the Kingdom of God would come, they wanted to know, “Are we there yet?” I don’t think they were ready for the answer, the answer that, yes, we are there. Jesus told them, or tried to, that the Kingdom of God isn’t what they expected. The Kingdom was there, among them, in the Word they were hearing, in the faces of the poor and the hungry and the homeless and the sick. The Kingdom wasn’t coming, the Kingdom had come. They just couldn’t see it. I’m not sure that our vision is any better. The Kingdom of God is here now all around us. I’m afraid we expect the wrong thing as well when we think of the coming of the Kingdom of God. What do we expect? What do we think the Kingdom of God should be? We, too, look for the wrong things. We expect power, we expect everyone to agree with us, we expect proof that we were right! But that’s not where we will find the Kingdom of God either. It is not in our power or our control, but in our ability to surrender power, to give up control, to turn to God and realize that all is God’s. The kingdom is all around us in the faces of those who are hungry and homeless and poor and ravaged by war and in need of our help. There is the Kingdom of God, if we will only look and see that, indeed, we no longer need to ask are we there yet, for we are.
Deacon John
Thursday of the 32nd Week in Ordinary Time
Nov. 16, 2006

Shameless Self-Promotion (sort-of) Part II

I mentioned before that in my work life I serve as a chaplain for a residential facility for developmentally disabled adults. We are in the process of building a chapel and I provided you with a link to the website for the chapel, so you could follow our progress. Well, the website now has a new address. Our new web address is http://hazelwoodchapel.com Be sure to check it out and please continue to pray for our success in this endeavor.
Peace,
Deacon John

Tuesday of the 32nd Week in Ordinary Time

Ti 2:1-8, 11-14
Lk 17:7-10

If you have ever taken care of a small child, say 3 or 4 years old, you have had the experience of getting that child to do something they do not want to do. The more you push, the harder they resist, until it becomes a monumental battle of wills, a battle which you may well lose. As the battle rages the child will finally turn to you and shout, “You’re not the boss of me!” It may be frustrating to hear those words, but you will hear them, because that child, like all of us, has a stubborn streak. None of us likes to be told what to do. Admit it, when someone comes to you and says you have to do this, what is your initial reaction? No I don’t have to do it either. And you can’t make me. You may even think or perhaps say, “You’re not the boss of me!” And you’re not even three years old. We just don’t like being told what to do. So what do we find in the first reading from Titus? Someone apparently telling us what to do! Older men are to be temperate and dignified, older women are to be reverent and not slander. Younger women are to learn to be good housekeepers and to be under the control of their husbands (ha! try that in my house!). Younger men are to be self-controlled and respectful; you get the idea, a lot of stuff that we are supposed to do. If the people who read this originally are like people today their reaction may have been “you’re not the boss of me!” Before we react like spoiled children, perhaps we should look at these admonitions in a different way. Perhaps we need to look at them not as things we have to do, but as things we are supposed to be. That is a very different proposition. These aren’t the beginning of the process, the things that I do that make me Christian, They are more like the end of the process, the things I will be if I am a Christian. None of them are things we can do alone. We must have help, the help of God, the help of the Holy Spirit. In Galatians Paul speaks of the gifts of the Holy Spirit. “In contrast, the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.” (Gal. 5: 22-23) They sound a lot like the things we are called upon to be in Titus. But they aren’t really the end of the process, they are the process. They are the things we are, if we allow the Spirit to work through us. We won’t always make it, we will fail and fall back into our old stubborn ways, but we will succeed as well. They are the things we are if instead of spoiled children, we allow ourselves to be the children of God.

Deacon John
Tuesday of the 32nd Week in Ordinary Time
Nov. 14, 2006

Friday Memorial of St. Leo the Great

Phil 3:17—4:1
Lk 16:1-8

It seems odd that a man would commend someone for giving away what was not that his to give away. Indeed, the property in question belongs to the man doing the commending. I can’t imagine that I would be really happy with someone who was giving away my stuff, especially after I had already caught him being dishonest. But here, in this Gospel reading, that is exactly what the master does. The dishonest servant seeks to save himself by ingratiating himself with others who owe his master. The key to this conundrum may lie in the last lines of the Gospel. “For the children of this world are more prudent in dealing with their own generation than the children of light.” Only another thief would appreciate what the dishonest servant did. They share in common their dishonesty. We can find ourselves caught up in those dealings, in the worries of the world, in things that, at the end of the day do not matter. If we build our lives around stuff, if we build our lives around trivia, we find ourselves in the end standing in the dark. If we move to the light, if we begin to live as children of light, we begin to see, to see the things that are really important, and to recognize the things that are not.

Deacon John
Memorial of St. Leo the Great, Pope and Doctor of the Church
Nov. 10, 2006

Wednesday of the 31st Week in Ordinary Time

Phil 2:12-18
Lk 14:25-33

To give, without counting the cost. Many of us would view that as the epitome of love. Emptying oneself, without consideration for oneself, would seem to be the ultimate good one can do. The Apostle Paul asks the Philippians to do just that. “Do everything without grumbling or questioning, that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish.” In the Gospel reading Jesus seems to be saying something quite different. Jesus asks if one would be foolish enough to start a building without first being certain of having the resources to finish the job. A king would never enter into battle without first calculating what the chances he may have of succeeding. Selfless giving? Looks more like calculated giving, giving designed to maximize return. Ah, but to really understand what Jesus is saying we must look at what he says in the beginning, “Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.” Jesus does want us to calculate the cost, not the value of what we may receive, but the cost of what we surrender. We are being called to a selfless giving, a total gift to God of the only thing we have of value, ourselves. Jesus says follow me, but look at what that entails. Be prepared to give up everything, everything, to truly follow me. I’m not so sure that too many of us are ready to make those calculations. It’s scary to look at what we may have to give up, but look at what we have to gain. When we take up our cross, when we finally give selflessly then we “may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation,among whom you shine like lights in the world,”
Peace,
Deacon John
Wednesday of the 31st Week in Ordinary Time
Nov. 8, 2006

Shameless self-promotion (sort-of)

In my work life I serve as chaplain in a residential facility for developmentally disabled adults. One of our great needs has been a space dedicated to worship, reflection, meditation, and prayer. With God's grace we have begun to build a new building designed to house this chapel area. We have started, but we still have a long way to go. You can check out the building and follow our progress at www.jamesmohnfund.com Keep us and our efforts in your prayers.
Peace,
Deacon John

Monday of the 31st Week in Ordinary Time

Phil 2:1-4
Lk 14:12-14

How much of what we do, do we expect repayment for? If not explicitly than at least implicitly? I’m not impugning any one’s integrity, or doubting that what we do may be for purely altruistic reasons, but how often do we at least think we’ll be repaid? It scares me to think about how many times it ran through my mind that I might be doing a good deed hoping that it would come back to me, that it would be to my credit. We seem to act like we believe in karma, even though that is surely not a part of our belief system. In the Gospel reading Jesus is asking us to act without expecting anything in return. Do good for those who cannot possibly repay you. Even then it seems to be a Catch-22, we try to do good, not explicitly looking for a reward, but in the back of our minds the idea of repayment in some form exists. Now, this isn’t all bad, it does serve to motivate good behavior, sort of like tax breaks for charitable donations. Jesus isn’t asking us to do the impossible, to completely ignore the possibility our good works may work for us. What we need to question is our primary motivation for the things we do. Do we act solely in expectation of reward? Or, is the possibility of reward only a dim idea floating in the back of our minds? Maybe that is where Jesus wants us, acting for the good, helping others, and as a by-product, helping ourselves.
Deacon John
Monday of the 31st Week in Ordinary Time
Nov. 6, 2006

All Souls Day

Wis 3:1-9
Rom 5:5-11
Jn 6:37-40

I have to admit, I worry. I worry about lots of things, most of them completely out of my control. Some worries are irrational, some are understandable, but almost none of them are things I can control. I worry about my daughter, my wife, my mother, my sister, my brother, my friends, you get the picture. I worry, and that brings us to today, All Souls Day, the day we remember all of those who have gone before us. Yesterday we celebrated the Feast of All Saints, everyone who has made it to the bigs, whether we know them or not. Today we celebrate everyone, especially those whose disposition is, shall we say, unknown. And that makes me worry. All of us have lost people close to us, people we loved, but people, human beings, subject to all of the frailties and failings that being human can mean. That leads to worry, one of those worries about something that I have absolutely no control over. I don’t have any control, but that doesn’t mean there is nothing I can do. There is much I can do because I can pray. I can pray for those who have gone on before; I can pray that they reach the ultimate glory. I pray because I love (yes love, not loved) them, and want only for them to be with God, to enjoy the perfect peace and love that is Heaven. I pray so that one day they can pray for me, who will undoubtedly need their help and a great deal more. I pray and I worry, but I also find comfort, comfort in today’s Gospel. Jesus says “Everything that the Father gives me will come to me, and I will not reject anyone who comes to me.” Later Jesus says “For this is the will of my Father, that everyone who sees the Son and believes in him may have eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day.” Everyone who believes, not everyone who is perfect, not everyone who is without fault. God wants us, all of us. Sure, we can still mess it up, but God still wants us, all of us. I find that thought very comforting indeed. Hope for me, hope for those I love, hope for all of us is there, there in the boundless love of God. Maybe today I can worry just a little less.
Deacon John
Feast of All Souls
Nov. 2, 2006

A Beginning

Part of the call of the deacon is to preach, to open the Word of God for others. In doing this I learn more than I could ever hope to teach. So allow me to educate myself in public. Perhaps we can, together, learn about our Faith and our God.
Deacon John