The Speakin' Deacon

Third Sunday in Ordinary Time

2011-01-24T17:39:00.001-05:00

Is 8:23-9:3-1
1 Cor 1:10-13, 17
Mt 4:12-23

In a land overshadowed by darkness, a Light has arisen. The Light starts in this land and spreads throughout the world, bringing light and a new message, a message of great hope and love. The Light dispels the darkness everywhere with this simple but vastly important message. Repent, for the Kingdom of heaven is at hand. That’s it, that is the entire message. The kingdom of heaven is at hand, it is here, now, not waiting in some dim and distant future, not unattainable, but here, now, for us to seize. All we must do is repent and follow the Light. I know, it sounds pretty simple, maybe too simple. It can’t be that easy, can it? Well, yes, it is that easy and that hard as well. Drop everything and follow the Light, everything, as in everything that comes between you and the Light, everything that would keep you in darkness. As Jesus walked along the beach he saw Simon and Andrew, two brothers, fishing, their livelihood. He said follow me, and they dropped everything and did. Further along Jesus saw two more brothers, James and John, also fishermen. Again he said follow me, and they dropped everything and followed him. They followed as he spread the light, the light of the Good News of God, that the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand, all we need do is repent and follow, all we need do is step from the darkness into the light. The call we receive may not be quite so dramatic, but our response needs to be the same as the brothers. Repent and follow. Simon, Andrew, James and John followed because they heard the word and realized that the Jesus is the Light. Let us also step into that light, follow the light, and leave the darkness behind forever.

Deacon John
Third Sunday in Ordinary Time
Jan. 23, 2011

Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

2011-01-17T11:47:00.001-05:00

Is 49:3, 5-6
1 Cor 1:1-3

Jn 1:29-34

We would be loathe to admit it, but most of us live relatively insular lives. Think about it, yes many of us are educated, we read, we have a wide circle of friends, and some of them may even have slightly different points of view than we have. Yet we do the same things, go to the same places, speak with the same people, rarely stretching the boundaries of our relationships. Even more, we do not very often stretch the boundaries of our beliefs. Within that insular world, within the boundaries of those beliefs, we may even stand out, we may even be an example to all those around us to are in basically the same place we are. Is, that enough, or do we need to be more? The Baptist saw Jesus coming and proclaimed, Behold, the Lamb of God. John tells us clearly, that this is the one for whom the people of Israel had been waiting, the Messiah, the Son of God, the one who would save the people of Israel. He was, after all, a Jewish messiah, right, meant to save God’s chosen people. He is that indeed, but is that all, or is that not enough? In the first reading God says, It is too little, the LORD says, for you to be my servant, to raise up the tribes of Jacob, and restore the survivors of Israel; I will make you a light to the nations,
that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth. I will make you a light to all the nations, all the people of the earth, because salvation is for all people, we are all chosen by God. Jesus goes beyond the insular world of his time and place, beyond a particular people, Jesus is for all people. Jesus came to do God’s will, and that will was to save all, not just a few, not only a certain group, but all people, all people beyond that insular world Jesus entered. We too are called, we are asked to do the will of God. Is it enough to attempt to do that will, to live as God asks, only within the insular boundaries of the world we have entered? When we say here I am Lord, I come to do your will, we are called out of that insular world, we are called to stretch beyond who we are, to become who God asks us to be. It’s not easy, we may not even be sure how, but if we say Here I am Lord, and allow ourselves to be stretched, we just might be that light that helps spread God’s salvation to the nations.
Deacon John
Second Sunday in Ordinary Time
Jan. 16, 2011

Epiphany

2011-01-02T20:09:00.001-05:00

Is 60:1-6
Eph 3:2-3a, 5-6
Mt 2:1-12

Epiphany: an illuminating discovery, realization, or disclosure b: a revealing scene or moment. This is part of the definition of the word epiphany as found in the Merriam-Webster dictionary. It’s a somewhat funny sounding word, and one that is not often used in daily conversation. For most of us this Feast we celebrate today is just about the only time we encounter the word. Consequently, we don’t think much about it, it’s just a funny sounding word that we encounter once a year. Maybe we didn’t even realize it has a meaning beyond this feast day. Yet it does have a meaning, and that meaning expresses perfectly what this day means. A baby is born, not an unusual occurrence at all, yet this birth is different. The birth of this baby brought angels to sing and celebrate, shepherds to come and see this child, this child proclaimed as the King of Israel, the Messiah, the one for whom Israel had been waiting, the King of Israel, the Messiah, the Jewish Messiah. What could this possibly mean to the rest of the world? What difference did it make, why should anyone else care that a king was born for the people of Israel. The birth of this child was also the occasion for the rising of a star. This new light in the sky drew wise men from the east, wise men who came to honor this baby, this king, this messiah. They came to pay homage because this king, the one who brought this new light into the heavens, was bringing a new light to the world, the whole world. This baby was bringing a light to brilliant to be contained, a light meant for the world, a light that would illuminate everything, everyone, everywhere. These wise men knew, this new king came not just for Israel, but for all nations, for all people. This was the illuminating discovery, the illuminating realization, the illuminating disclosure, that this king came for all people, for all time. This baby came for them, this baby came for us. The light this baby brought into the world is with us still, a light meant to shine on all people, a light that reveals the love of God, a love that is light for all of us, for all time. This is our Epiphany.

Deacon John
Feast of the Epiphany
Jan. 2, 2011

Feast of the Holy Family

2010-12-26T17:15:00.001-05:00

Sir 3:2-6, 12-14
Col 3:12-21

Mt 2:13-15, 19-23

Perfection, as parents that is something we all want for our children. We want their lives to be perfect, we want them to be perfect. At first, of course, they are. That tiny bundle that comes home from the hospital, should we be fortunate, is indeed perfect. Even if the child isn’t perfect by some societal standard, as far as you are concerned the child is, perfect. Perfect, for a while, then things begin to change. We try, we teach, we guide, we try to mold and shape, but we discover to our great dismay that our child, our progeny, that reflection of you, is more of a reflection than you would like, because the child is not perfect. The kid makes mistakes, does things wrong, makes bad decisions, yet you keep loving that child, you keep trying with that child, because, after all, it is your child, and you love that kid, no matter what. No, you have to accept that the kid isn’t perfect, never was, never will be, but you love anyway, sometimes in fact not in spite of the kid’s imperfections, but because of them. At the end of the day, your children’s imperfections are what make them like you. Loving one another, warts and all, is what family is. We are certainly not perfect beings, not by any stretch of the imagination, yet we are loved. We are loved despite our imperfections, and maybe even because of them. When God created us, God knew we would not be perfect, that we would fail in oh so many ways. Yet, despite our imperfections we are still loved, loved enough that God came to us, as one of us, and became part of a family just like ours. Jesus came to be part of a family that loved one another, sacrificed for the good of one another, just as Joseph took his new family and fled to Egypt to save them. Love, despite imperfection, hardship, pain, suffering, illness that is the heart of family. Through the Holy Family, we are invited to join a family, a family where God demonstrates God’s great love for us, despite our imperfections, maybe because of them, a family where we are loved, warts and all.

Deacon John
Feast of the Holy Family
Dec. 26, 2010

Christmas Day

2010-12-24T10:55:00.001-05:00

Is 62:11-12
Ti 3:4-7

Lk 2:15-20

You are not forsaken. I want to assure that you are not forsaken, forgotten, abandoned. How many times in your life have you felt just that way, forsaken, lost, abandoned, nowhere to turn and no one to turn to? We have all felt it, we have all at some time no doubt believed it. We were totally forsaken, and nothing, no thing or no one could help you, would help you. But, it’s not true. None of us are forsaken. None of us are forgotten. None of us are abandoned or unloved. Today we celebrate that knowledge, today we celebrate the greatness of our God who has assured us that we are indeed loved, cared for, and certainly not forsaken. We have a place to go, we have someone we can turn to. Today God sends a savior, one who redeems the people of God. Angels came to shepherds and proclaimed the Good News. The shepherds in turn ran to see this child, this redeemer who came from Heaven to live with us, to be one of us, to save us. The shepherds ran to see this salvation, then ran to tell all they could see about this child. Let us join that band of shepherds this glorious day, let us go to this child, embrace this child, accept this child, then proclaim this child. For this child is God’s assurance to us, we are not forsaken.

Deacon John
Christmas Day
2010

Fourth Sunday of Advent

2010-12-19T18:17:00.001-05:00

Is 7:10-14
Rom 1:1-7

Mt 1:18-24

Joseph was a righteous man. To be called a righteous man in Joseph’s world was high praise indeed. A righteous man, one who could be counted on to do the right thing, no matter what. So here is this righteous man, betrothed to a young woman, a child really by our standards, and he discovers she is with child. What’s a righteous man to do? He would be well within his rights to condemn her, walk away and let her face whatever punishment may come. Yet he decides to quietly divorce her, giving her, and the child a chance at life. Before he can act, however, an angel appears to him in a dream telling him not to worry, that the child his betrothed is carrying is the child of God, in so many words, the Messiah, and you will be entrusted with his care. I can’t imagine what Joseph’s initial reaction must have been. Today, we would probably seek out a psychiatrist, convinced we had gone round the bend altogether. If you told someone that this had happened, you would be seeing a psychiatrist, the one assigned to the asylum you would find yourself in. Thankfully for Joseph in his time the appearance of an angel was not a sign of mental illness, but a sign that God has something for you to do, something important. Joseph accepted the words of the angel, took Mary into his home, and reared the Messiah as his own son. He did not have to do this, he could have walked away. He could have not believed that an angel really appeared to him, or he could have simply refused the responsibility. But Joseph was a righteous man, he would do what God asked, despite the sacrifice. He had a choice, he chose God. As we approach the celebration of our salvation, the entrance of God in the person of a baby into our world, we have a choice to make. Will we choose the one who came and will come again, or do we walk away? Do we follow the example of Joseph? Can we be righteous?

Deacon John
Fourth Sunday of Advent
Dec. 19, 2010

Second Sunday of Advent

2010-12-05T13:43:00.002-05:00

Is 11:1-10

Rom 15:4-9

Mt 3:1-12

Half of life is just showing up. I’ve heard this saying in various places, and I’m not sure who to attribute it to, if anyone. Half of life is just showing up. It’s an interesting idea, and when you think about it possibly true. After all, you can’t benefit from things if you never show up. The saying is true in that showing up is half of life, but only half. Once you show up, you have to do something. No, I can’t learn anything if I never show up for school, but I can’t learn just by showing up, I have to put an effort into learning. Am I really a student if I never study? John, a voice crying out in the wilderness, prepare the way of the Lord. He baptized people with water for the repentance of sin. His baptism, his voice crying in the wilderness, drew many from all around. Many came to hear the call to repentance, to acknowledge their sins, and to receive baptism. Among those who began to appear were Pharisees and Sadducees, the religious leaders, the interpreters of the Law. They came and John turned to them to ask why. They showed up, right? Yes, they came but showing up is just half of life. You have to do something once you get there. John wouldn’t even permit them to claim that they were safe because they were the children of Abraham. Saying you are a follower and being one are not the same thing. In this Advent season that voice of one crying in the wilderness calls to us, calls to us to prepare the way of the Lord. Do we truly prepare the way of the Lord? Or are we just showing up? Showing up is good, it is half the battle, but only half. To say we believe is not enough. Showing up for Church is not enough. We have to act on what we profess to believe. Show up, by all means, show up, but do something once you get there.

Deacon John

Second Sunday of Advent

Dec. 5, 2010

Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time

2010-10-02T13:58:00.001-04:00

Hab 1:2-3; 2:2-4
2 Tm 1:6-8, 13-14
Lk 17:5-10

Why does everything take so long? Problems abound, in the world, in my life, everywhere, and solutions seem to be non-existent. After all, they can solve a murder on TV in one hour, less commercials, so why can't all of my problems, all of society's problems, be worked out just as easily? We put a man on the moon, why can't we solve our problems here on earth? Well, putting that man on the moon took a bit more than one hour, less commercials. It took years of planning, it did not happen overnight. We live now in a time that seems to have lost a sense of patience. Instant solutions on TV, 24 hour news cycles, everything has to happen and happen now. We cry out and there seems to be no answer, and we refuse to think that anything may take time. We call to heaven, but seem to get no reply. Maybe, we think, our faith isn't strong enough. Maybe we just need more, as if faith were a commodity, quantifiable, measureable. Jesus tells his followers in answer to their cry to increase their faith, that faith the size of a mustard seed is enough. More faith won't make things happen, more faith won't make everything better. What we must have is faith that what needs to happen will happen. As the Lord says to Habakkuk, "For the vision still has its time, presses on to fulfillment, and will not disappoint; if it delays, wait for it, it will surely come, it will not be late." We have to keep faith and do the one thing we seem to find the most difficult, be patient. Trust me, I am no one to lecture anyone else about being patient. Patience is surely a virtue, and for me a life-long struggle. I try, I fail, but I try again. I must, as we all must, try to understand that the vision has its time, and that time is God's, not ours. We must all learn to wait, to have patience, and realize that all things are in God's hands. Easy to say, hard to do, but we must try. For if we can wait, if we can be patient, we will understand that, the vision still has its time, presses on to fulfillment, and will not disappoint.
Deacon John
Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time
Oct. 3, 2010

Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2010-09-12T13:04:00.002-04:00

Ok, it's been a while since I posted here. It's partly due to illness, partly due to being tired, and maybe a little laziness as well. I will try to do better, after all, I need the stimulation of thinking.

Ex 32:7-11, 13-14
1 Tm 1:12-17
Lk 15:1-32

So there you stand, thinking to yourself, this is a long Gospel. A lost sheep is found, a misplaced coin turns up, the goofy son realizes his foolishness and comes home. You've heard it all before, a hundred times, maybe a thousand. That could be the problem. We've heard is all before, so many times that we don't hear it anymore. We need to stop, listen, and hear this Gospel, hear what it really says. A shepherd loses a sheep, one out of one hundred. He drops everything, leaves the ninety-nine unattended, to search for the one lost sheep. Really? Would a responsible shepherd risk his investment that way? Still, he searches for the one until it is found. A woman loses a coin, one of ten. Rather than sit back, figuring that the coin will turn up in the normal course of cleaning, she rips her house apart, searching for that coin. This is exactly how God is with us. As represented by the shepherd and the woman, God searches for us, seeks us out, wants us, more than we can know or understand. God's love for us is so all-powerful that god will do anything, absolutely anything, to get us to turn to God. After all, hasn't God already demonstrated this love in the person of Jesus? The Christ came to earth, lived as one of us, died for us, and rose that we might live, that we might have a relationship with God. What more does God need to do? Yet God will do anything to bring us home. We are surrounded by grace, relentless grace that calls us to God. God wants us, provides the graces and means to turn to God, but ultimately we must choose. Just as the Prodigal chose to go home, we must choose. We are called, but we have to answer. God does everything to make it as easy for us to turn to God as possible. We make it hard, we make it difficult. God's love and grace is there for the taking, all we have to do is choose.
Deacon John
Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Sept. 12, 2010

Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2010-06-21T10:50:00.001-04:00

Zec 12:10-11; 13:1
Gal 3:26-29
Lk 9:18-24
Jesus asked his followers who do people say that I am? There were a variety of answers, Elijah, John the Baptist, one of the ancient prophets. Then Jesus asked who do you say that I am? Peter gave the answer, the Christ, the Son of God. No one apparently dissented from that answer, an answer that said much more than who Jesus is, but said who they, Christ's followers were, and are. Christ warned of dire things to come, suffering, persecution, death. Christ also spoke of great things, resurrection. Christ told them that in order to follow him they must take up their cross, deny themselves, give themselves to God and to others. Answering by saying that Jesus is the Christ, defines them as they strive to take up crosses and follow. How do we, today, answer that simple question, who do you say that I am? There are still a variety of answers, those who claim there was no Jesus, no actual person, just a myth. There are those who claim that Jesus was a simple itinerant preacher, a wise man who said great things, but not God. Then there is us, we who gather to celebrate, who proclaim the answer that Peter gave, you are the Christ of God. The basic statement of our faith, the kerygma, Jesus is Lord. We proclaim it, we believe it, we say who Jesus is, and at the same time we say who we are. We, as a people, are defined by this acknowledgement of Christ. Who we are, what we do, should be defined by our belief in that statement. When we say who Jesus is, we say who we are. We are a people striving to e compassionate, a people striving to be loving, a people striving to live the belief of that kerygmatic statement, Jesus is Lord. Of course we do not always succeed. We fall short, often, not always accepting the crosses that come our way, not always denying ourselves, not always loving as we should. Yet we strive, we reach we try, imperfect as we may be, to reach that ideal, to live as Christ asks. We strive, and in that attempt should someone look at us and ask who are they, one can truly and honestly say they are Christians.
Deacon John
The Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time
June 20, 2010

The Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time

2010-06-14T12:48:00.001-04:00

2 Sm 12:7-10, 13
Gal 2:16, 19-21
Lk 7:36—8:3

There is a song by Don Henley entitled The Heart of the Matter. One line of the song says, "I've been trying to get down to the heart of the matter, but my will gets weak and my thoughts seem to scatter, but I think it's about forgiveness, even if you don't love me anymore..."
It's about forgiveness. All of us have need for forgiveness. All of us need to forgive. This is just a simple fact of human relationships. We will find a way to do something to someone that requires seeking forgiveness. We will all find a time we need to forgive. Neither of these is an easy thing to do. To look at someone who has hurt you in some way, done something to you, and to forgive them, well that's not easy. To swallow your pride, and go to someone you have hurt and ask for forgiveness, not an easy thing. The possibility of rejection is huge. Which, however, is more difficult, living with the pain caused you by another, nursing it, holding on to it, having it infect the rest of your life, or looking past the pain, past the hurt, and acting in love by forgiving. Maybe this person doesn't want your forgiveness, maybe they don't think they need it. Which is more difficult, living with the knowledge that you harmed another in some way, perhaps feeling guilty, and having that infect the rest of your life, or seeking forgiveness, trying to make amends, to atone for your transgression. Maybe the person you need forgiveness from is in no mood to give it, maybe they never will be. Both forgiving or seeking forgiveness are scary. If you really want peace in your life these are your only options. Yes, what was done to you may seem so awful that you can't forgive, what you have done may seem to you to be unforgiveable. David committed murder, cold blooded, calculated murder, so he could marry another man's wife. Murder, the intentional taking of another person's life, what act could be more heinous? Yet when confronted with his sin by Nathan, David admitted his sin and God forgave him. Jesus, eating at the house of Simon the Pharisee, is approached by a woman, a sinner, a public sinner, known to all there as a sinner. The other guests are aghast as she weeps on Christ's feet, bathing them with her tears, drying them with her hair. She anoints Christ's feet with oil and this is just about too much for Simon. How could Christ let this sinful woman touch him? He confronts Christ, but is told that this woman has shown great love. She has also shown great courage. She knew her presence would disturb those at the dinner. She could not be completely sure Christ would not send her away. She had faith, she had love, and she trusted that she could be forgiven, no matter what her sins might be. Just like David, she was forgiven. God's love for us is absolute and unconditional. God's forgiveness is there for the asking. We don't deserve it, we can't earn it, but it is ours because of love. We have all been hurt, we have all caused hurt, we all need forgiveness, we all need to grant forgiveness. It is hard, but e must remember that God forgives, no matter the sin. How can we refuse to forgive if God does? Are we better than God?
Deacon John
The Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time
June 13, 2010

The Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ

2010-06-07T11:01:00.003-04:00

OK, so I'm a day late. Actually I suppose I'm two and a half months late. I haven't posted a homily since March 20, just before I went into the hospital. During this time I just didn't have the energy, physical or mental, to concentrate on any task for very long. But things are improving, and I am slowly regaining strength, and the ability to comncentrate. So, for the moment, I'm back. No promises, but I will try to post every week. Thanks for your prayers.

Gn 14:18-20
1 Cor 11:23-26
Lk 9:11b-17
The average adult human being can survive for approximately 4 to 6 weeks without food, with no caloric intake. This depends, of course, on many factors such as weight and the individual's overall health. Still, even the best conditioned person, or as too many of us Americans are, the largest person, cannot survive much beyond 6 weeks.
We need to regularly replenish our bodies with food, calories of some kind, in order to survive. This drive to survive, this need to insure a steady supply of calories, led humanity to hunt, fish, eventually to settle into agricultural communities, growing food, struggling to survive. Maintaining a steady food supply was a struggle, and for far too may still is. It is no surprise, then, that Christ comes filling this most basic need. Bread, wine, important sources of calories for the people of Christ's time. Christ comes to us, as food, but food not for the body only. If the average adult can survive without physical food for 4 to 6 weeks, how long can the average person survive without the spiritual nourishment that Christ provides in the Eucharist? The soul must be fed, the spirit replenished, else we fall victim to spiritual starvation. Many who die from physical starvation succumb not just to the lack of food, but to other factors that spring up when the body is weakened by the lack of nourishment. The starving person become susceptible to a host of illnesses, given the opportunity to flourish by the weakness of the body. Our spirits, our souls, are no different. No nourishment for the soul leads to weakness, weakness that can kill just as surely as physical starvation. The sad part is we don't have to struggle to receive this spiritual nourishment. Christ comes to us, is present to us, as bread, as wine, as food. Many of our ancestors struggled to survive, struggled to feed their families. To receive Christ we don't need to struggle at all, all we need to do is show up.
Deacon John
The Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ
June 6, 2010

Fifth Sunday of Lent

2010-03-20T16:11:00.001-04:00

Is 43:16-21
Phil 3:8-14
Jn 8:1-11

In an old Bugs Bunny cartoon the rascally rabbit cons someone, then walks away saying, what an idiot, what a maroon. Even when I saw this as a child I recognized the mistake, using the wrong word, and understanding that maybe the wrong person, if Bugs can be considered a person, was the maroon. The scribes and Pharisees bring a woman to Jesus, a woman caught in adultery. I doubt they really cared much about this woman or her sin, cynically they hoped to trap Jesus, forcing him to choose to either stick with the letter of the law or to let her go despite the law. A neat trap, one they could spring and walk away saying what an idiot, what a maroon. Instead Jesus questions them. Who among you is without sin, who among you is perfect? If you are sinful, imperfect, how can you cast judgment on another imperfect being? Slowly they begin to walk away, realizing that maybe the wrong person, or persons, were the maroon. Far too often in my own life I have lashed out, judging someone, someone I thought, someone I knew, was wrong. How could they do that? How could they be that way? They deserve their fate and worse, what an idiot, what a maroon. Then, later I learn more about that person, their circumstances, and see how foolishly harsh I was in my judgment. I look at myself and realize many could look at me, at things I have done, and be just as harsh in judgment against me, despite not knowing me or my circumstances. We must understand that in our own imperfection, we cannot judge others. The only one who can is the one who is perfect. When I try to judge, to point out another’s faults, just who is the maroon?
Deacon John
The Fifth Sunday of Lent
March 21, 2010

Fourth Sunday of Lent

2010-03-14T17:30:00.001-04:00

Jos 5:9a, 10-12
2 Cor 5:17-21
Lk 15:1-3, 11-32

The movie A Christmas Story, set in Northern Indiana in the late 1940’s, is primarily about the quest of young Ralphie to get a particular present for Christmas, a Red Ryder BB gun. Yet the story also deals a lot with everyday life, and with other preoccupations of our young hero. One thing Ralphie is looking for is a Little Orphan Annie secret decoder ring, an absolute necessity if he is to be able to decipher the coded message given at the end of the Little Orphan Annie radio show. He saved Ovaltine labels, drank the stuff in mass quantities, and dutifully mailed everything in to obtain the ring. Diligently Ralphie checks the mail each day on the way home from school, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the coveted ring. Finally the ring arrives, and Ralphie is overjoyed. At last he can decode the message! When he does, however, he discovers the message is nothing more than a commercial for Ovaltine, the drink he has consumed gallons of to obtain the ring. Greatly disappointed, he never mentions the ring again. What he watched for, waited for, longed for, has done nothing but let him down. A young man demands his share of his inheritance, takes the money and proceeds to throw it all away living a dissolute life. His father, who acquiesced in his son’s demand for the money, watches and waits, waits for the return of his son. Surely this man is disappointed in his son, in his son’s behavior, in his foolishness, in his wasted life. He watches, and when he sees his lost son on the road home, he runs to him. He runs to him not to berate him for his foolishness, but to bring him back into the warmth and the love of his family. No one would blame the man for being angry, no one would fault him for exacting some sort of punishment on his son. Make him work, make him pay the money back, demand some sort of restitution. Instead the father celebrates, joyous that his son has returned. He accepts his son despite his faults and failings. Will the son disappoint again? Probably, he learned a valuable lesson, but being human, he will need at times to be reminded. He learned, but he still isn’t perfect. Our God watches and waits for us, watching diligently to see if we are on the way home. Just like young Ralphie he checks everyday to see if we have made it back yet. Unlike Ralphie, God knows what to expect. We have squandered the inheritance we were given, thrown away the gift that Christ obtained for us, yet God watches and waits. Even when we do return, repentant and pledging to live differently, God knows we will still disappoint. We learn lessons, but we are not perfect, not yet. Just like the decoder ring, we will find a way to be less than we could be, less than we want to be, we will fail again. God knows this, God knows that we will disappoint, again and again. Still God watches and waits, and welcomes us back with joy, every time.

Deacon John
Fourth Sunday of Lent
March 14, 2010

First Sunday of Lent

2010-02-21T20:21:00.001-05:00

Dt 26:4-10
Rom 10:8-13
Lk 4:1-13

What do we want, and what do we need? How often do we confuse those things? There are a lot of things I want, there are a lot of things I have, but I should ask myself, do I need them? We all have a lot of things now, things we consider necessities, that just a few years ago were if not luxuries, at least not something that you could do without. Cell phones, all of us have one, and perhaps they have become necessities, but you could survive without it. The same can be said for computers, internet access, and a lot of new technology. Sixty years ago television was a luxury, and not something that was a necessity. The same can be said about radio if we go back 70 or 80 years. There are a lot of things we have or want that maybe we could do without, a lot of stuff that tempts us to believe we can’t live without it. Jesus was in the desert, hungry, tired, and tempted to turn stones into bread. He refused. Just as he refused to worship the tempter, just as he refused to tempt the Creator. What did he want, what did he need? Jesus managed to separate those two things. Yes he was hungry, he wanted bread, but how much bread did he actually need? He didn’t need the power and glory offered to him. His faith was strong enough he did not need to test it by tempting God. In this season let us examine our own lives and try to determine what we need, as opposed to what we want. How much stuff is enough? Who, or what, do I worship? Do I need proof of God’s existence, or do I have faith? Now is the time task these questions, now is the time to seek the answers, now as we prepare.

Deacon John
First Sunday of Lent
Feb. 21, 2010

Ash Wednesday

2010-02-17T06:50:00.003-05:00

Jl 2:12-18
2 Cor 5:20—6:2
Mt 6:1-6, 16-18

It’s Lent? Already, it’s Lent? Didn’t we just celebrate Christmas yesterday? I have to tell you, I am not ready for it to be Lent. I need more time to get ready, to prepare myself, mentally, to take on the challenge that is Lent. This can’t happen yet. Could we put it off for another week, maybe two, just to give me more time to get ready? The real problem is, if we are willing to admit it to ourselves, is that we will never be ready. Lent can start today, tomorrow, next week, next month it really doesn’t matter, we will never be ready. We don’t want to face ourselves and admit that we are indeed imperfect beings. We definitely don’t want to face God knowing that we are imperfect, that we are indeed sinners. The admission to ourselves that we fall short makes it hard for us to face God, because we are afraid. We’re afraid because we know we don’t look good to ourselves, so how can we stand how we must look to God. We’re afraid, but we fear without cause. God calls to us, just as the prophet Joel says, because God is full of mercy and compassion, full of kindness and slow to anger. God calls to us because we are loved. This call to accept the compassion of God is ongoing, all day, every day. But being human, being limited, and being afraid, we need a push, a nudge, a reminder that God is calling us, and that we should not be afraid to heed that call. Thus we have Lent. Lent, which is our push, our nudge, our reminder that God loves us more than we can ever comprehend. Lent, a reminder of the great love demonstrated for us forty days from now.

Deacon John
Ash Wednesday
Feb. 17, 2010

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2010-02-07T17:10:00.001-05:00

Is 6:1-2a, 3-8
1 Cor 15:1-11
Lk 5:1-11

Blessings, we all have them, no matter what we might think of our circumstances. Perhaps we think we have more than we will ever need. More likely, we don’t think we have nearly enough. We could always use more we think, more money, more space, more time, more something. If we are honest with ourselves, however, we are blessed in some way, no matter how meager we may think our circumstances are. My associate always starts off our non-denominational services for our residents and staff by singing a song that goes, “We’re blessed, we’re blessed, we’re blessed. We have shelter, clothing and strength, we are blessed, we don’t deserve it but yet we are blessed.” We tend to discount the blessings we have perhaps because we don’t believe we deserve them. Well, we don’t. We don’t deserve whatever blessings we have, so we are skeptical, and we are afraid. We know we are not worthy, we know that we can never earn those blessings that God has granted us. We fear for no reason, the blessings we have are a gift, God’s grace is a gift, freely given despite the fact we don’t deserve it. In the first reading the writer proclaims;
“Woe is me, I am doomed! For I am a man of unclean lips, living among a people of unclean lips;” but despite his fear the next thing that happens is amazing, it is a gift, God’s grace granted freely as, “one of the seraphim flew to me,
holding an ember that he had taken with tongs from the altar. He touched my mouth with it, and said, ‘See, now that this has touched your lips, your wickedness is removed, your sin purged.’”
In the Gospel reading today Jesus asks Peter to set out from the shore so that Jesus could teach the crowd without being crushed or pushed into the sea. Peter does as he was asked, then when Jesus finishes teaching he tells Peter to set out for deep water and lower his nets for a catch. Peter tells Jesus that they had fished all night unsuccessfully, but he would do as Jesus asked. Now Peter was a fisherman, a rough-hewn, straight talking, hard-minded businessman. He was probably skeptical about the possibility of catching anything, but he did as Jesus asked. He did as Jesus asked and was blessed with a harvest of fish so bountiful it nearly sank his boat and another. Peter knew he did not deserve this blessing, he knew that by the standard of his day he may have been a good guy, a hale fellow well-met sort, but not a holy man. This gift frightened him, because he knew he did not deserve it. He looked to Jesus and said, “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.”
Each of us fits in that same place, the place where the writer of the first reading was, the place where Peter was. When confronted with the greatness of God, when facing the grace and the almost unbearable love that God showers upon us, we are terrified. We don’t deserve this, we are a people of unclean lips, a people who are good by some standard, but surely nor holy, surely not worthy of God’s attention much less God’s boundless love. We are so programmed to think we have to earn things, we have a hard time believing that this great gift is ours, with no way we can reciprocate, no way we can earn it. We can’t earn it but we still feel a need to do something, we do have to respond somehow, don’t we? We can respond, first by accepting the gift, by not being afraid of the gift. Then, knowing that we are not working to earn this gift of love, of grace, we look around and offer it, undeserved, without reservation or expectation, to the rest of the world.
“Here I am,” I said; “send me!”
Deacon John
Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Feb. 7, 2010

Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2010-01-31T08:02:00.001-05:00

Jer 1:4-5, 17-19
1 Cor 12:31—13:13
Lk 4:21-30
Walking is supposed to be a good way of maintaining you health. A good brisk walk can help keep your heart in shape, help maintain your weight, and just generally make you feel better. The good people of Jesus’ native town, shortly after services in the synagogue, invited Jesus to take a short walk, though I doubt it would have done much for his health. It was, indeed a very short walk, just one step, albeit one very long step. They were just a bit upset with him, when he pointed out that a prophet is generally not well received in that prophet’s native place. He pointed out how miracles had been worked, but for outsiders like Naaman. They were upset, ostensibly because Jesus failed to do mighty works for them as he had done for others. Deep inside though, I think they understood that he was right. They didn’t turn to Jesus in faith, they wanted parlor tricks. It wasn’t faith that drove them, but superstition. Do this and I’ll believe. Prove to me you are who you seem to be. After all, we know you, we know your family, why should we accept you? Make this easy for us, tell us what to do and say and think after you work a couple of miracles so we’ll know you are legitimate. Without special signs they could not, would not, believe. That is not faith, that is superstition. I am not denigrating the idea of miracles, miracles have happened, miracles continue to happen, everyday. Miracles don’t happen just to bring about faith, they happen because of faith. How many times did Jesus tell someone that faith had saved them, that faith had cured them? The miracle came about because that person believed. A miracle may lead others to faith, but it only leads there, it is not a substitute for faith. Faith is a gift that God gives each of us, a gift that requires no proof.

Deacon John
Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Jan. 31, 2010

Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

2010-01-17T23:00:00.001-05:00

Is 62:1-5
1 Cor 12:4-11
Jn 2:1-11
There was a wedding feast in a place called Cana, and the wine was running low, real low. Mary turns to her son, tells him of this predicament, and he, after initially balking, does as his mother asks. Even in the face of his refusal, Mary turns to the servers and tells them, “Do whatever he tells you.” Mary gives what may be the best advice in all the Scripture, “Do whatever he tells you.” Jesus instructs the servers to fill the jugs meant to hold water for ceremonial washing to the brim with water. They do, and then again follow Jesus’ instructions and draw out the water now made wine, take it to the chief steward, who proclaims it the best wine yet. Those servers did what was asked of them without knowing the outcome of their actions, without knowing if what they were doing would matter, make any difference. They simply followed Mary’s advice and did whatever Jesus told them. Mary started this whole chain of events by asking Jesus for help, and then telling the servers to follow him. The servers had no idea what would happen, but trusted that following Jesus would lead to good. That advice that Mary gave then is good for us as well. “Do whatever he tells you.” What the Christ tells us is to love, to care about the other, to live unselfishly, to give. We may not always know the outcome of following that advice. We may give of ourselves and not see the results, but that doesn’t mean what we do has no effect. We may never see the results of the good we attempt to do, but we must do it anyway. When we love, when we live as Christ asks, we touch people, we make a difference though that difference may never be known to us. The servers followed Mary’s advice and did as Jesus asked even though they did not know what would happen. We may never see the results of what we do, but we should listen and follow Mary’s advice as well, and do whatever he asks.
Deacon John
Second Sunday in Ordinary Time
Jan 17, 2010

The Epiphany of the Lord

2010-01-03T19:13:00.001-05:00

Is 60:1-6
Eph 3:2-3a, 5-6
Mt 2:1-12
Today’s Gospel starts with this statement, When Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, in the days of King Herod, behold, magi from the east arrived in Jerusalem, saying, “Where is the newborn king of the Jews?
We saw his star at its rising and have come to do him homage.” Which leads to the question, why? Why did Magi, Wiseman, kings, come from a distant land to the east to pay homage to the newborn king of the Jews? Why would they care? Were they just being polite?
This time of year we see the return of light, physical light, to the world. In our hemisphere days are getting longer, the sun rises a bit earlier and sets a bit later. When the sun shines it does not shine only on a particular place, or a particular people, the sun shines for everyone. At Christmas we celebrated the rising of the Son, the dawn of a new light, a light not meant only for a few, but for all. The Magi came to pay homage to the Christ, not because he was the newborn king of the Jews, but because he is the newborn king of all. They were drawn by the light, the light of the Son, a light that, just as the physical sun does, shines on everyone. They came to make known to the world that this newborn king is king of all, they came to open the eyes of all people to the light of the Son, the light that clears away the darkness and guides us home.
Deacon John
The Epiphany of the Lord
Jan. 3, 2010

Fourth Sunday in Advent

2009-12-21T05:42:00.001-05:00

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

So here we are, the fourth Sunday in Advent. We’re almost there. Friday’s the day, the day we have been waiting for, longing for, Christmas finally arrives and most of us will feel a great sense of…relief. Unfortunately for far too many of us the dominant feeling is relief, expressed in a collective sigh and a statement something like thank heaven it’s over. Somehow I just don’t believe that relief, gratitude that it’s over, is supposed to be the way we feel that day. We allow ourselves to get so caught up in the secular aspect of the day, the parties, the gift-giving, shopping for just the right present that yes, we are glad it’s over, we managed, hopefully, to somehow survive another Christmas. In the Gospel today Mary goes to Elizabeth, and as Mary approaches and speaks to Elizabeth, Elizabeth says, “For at the moment the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the infant in my womb leaped for joy.” Jesus approaches, and John leaps for joy at the coming of the savior. Friday all of us should, figuratively at least, leap for joy. We should leap for joy not because, thank heaven, it’s over, but because our savior has come. Perhaps we should feel relief, but not because it’s over, but because it has just begun. The Christ has come to us, the Word is made flesh and dwells among us. Our salvation is truly at hand.
Escaping the secular part of this season can be difficult, no, it’s probably impossible. Yet it does not have to eclipse the real meaning of the day. We can walk and chew gum at the same time, we can celebrate both, if we remember the reason we celebrate, the real reason. Advent isn’t over yet, we still have time, time to prepare not for the secular, but for the sacred. We still have time to ready ourselves for the approach of the Christ, so that on Friday we may, appropriately, leap for joy.
Deacon John
The Fourth Sunday in Advent
Dec. 20, 2009th Sunday in Advent

First Sunday in Advent

2009-11-30T14:59:00.001-05:00

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

God made us a promise. God promised to save us from ourselves. It was certainly a promise God did not have to make. Our failure, after all, was and is no one’s fault but our own. Yet the God who created us chose to save us, even from ourselves, because God loves us beyond all our imagining. That love for us, despite our faults and failings, led God to come to us, to come as a child, to live, and die, as one of us. Then to rise from the dead, conquering death, and giving us the chance to share eternal life with God. Today we enter the season of Advent, a time we prepare ourselves to celebrate that coming of God, the birth of Christ into the world, the birth that makes it possible for us to share in God’s life. After all, if Christ had not been born, he could not have lived, he could not have died, he could not have risen. So we prepare to celebrate this birth, this promise, a promise that we are reminded of in first reading today from Jeremiah. We enter this time of Advent to prepare ourselves to celebrate God’s keeping of that promise. In this season, however, we also remind ourselves that not only Christ has indeed come, but Christ will come again. The Gospel reading reminds us the we need to be ready, to prepare ourselves, because Christ will come again, this time not as a child, but in glory. This time Christ will come to take us home, to take us to God, to have us fully share in the divine life, fulfilling the promise made to us from the beginning. God promised to come, to save us, to save us from ourselves. Christ came and opened the door. We prepare to celebrate that event, that 2,000 year old birth of Christ into the world. Let us also remember to prepare for the coming of Christ that has yet to happen, to celebrate the coming of Christ in glory, the ultimate fulfillment of the promise made to us so long ago.

Drop down dew, ye heavens, from above, and let the clouds rain the Just One.

Deacon John
The First Sunday in Advent
Nov. 29, 2009

The Solemnity of Christ the King

2009-11-23T21:24:00.001-05:00

Dn 7:13-14
Rv 1:5-8
Jn 18:33b-37
The ancient legend of Arthur, a Celtic tale describing a great king, is well-known to most of us who grew up in Western civilization. The great King Arthur unites the people of Britain, but ultimately falls battling evil. He is whisked away to Avalon, never to be seen again. The promise is he will return to save his people when their need is the greatest. Thus he is the Once and Future King. It is an engaging story, a tale of struggle, and ultimately a tale of hope. Hope in the belief that when he is needed, Arthur will return. It is a story meant to give hope to a desperate people. An entertaining story, but a legend, nothing more. It is a legend, and who can put their hope, their faith in a mere legend? We do, however, have the promise of a Once and Future King, a story of hope, a story of salvation, and it is not legend. Christ is our Once and Future King, our beginning, our end, and all that falls between. "I am the Alpha and the Omega, " says the Lord God, "the one who is and who was and who is to come, the almighty." Christ came to establish his kingdom, a kingdom established for us, a kingdom of redemption, salvation, hope. At the time of our greatest need, which is all the time, Christ comes for us. Christ’s kingdom is not something that existed in the past, or something that has yet to come. Christ’s kingdom is here, now, a kingdom made present in the world by us, by you, by me, by all of us who choose to follow Christ. We are called to live as citizens of that kingdom, that kingdom of hope, of salvation, of love. We can live in that kingdom, the kingdom established by Christ, for Christ is not only the Once and Future King, Christ is the king of the now, the present.
Deacon John
The Solemnity of Christ the King
Nov. 22, 2009

Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-11-16T08:10:00.001-05:00

Dn 12:1-3
Heb 10:11-14, 18
Mk 13:24-32

A zillion years ago, when I was a teenager, my wife and I belonged to an ecumenical singing group called the Agape Singers. Indeed that was where I met her. The group was made up of people from all over Louisville, of different Christian faith traditions, different socio-economic levels, a diverse group. One of the songs we sang was taken from 1 Corinthians 13:13, “So faith, hope, love remain, these three; but the greatest of these is love.” The song was worded “There are but three things that last, faith, hope, and love.” The group is long gone, but my wife and I are still together, the love that developed between us surviving, despite the end of the group. Only love lasts, nothing else lasts, everything else is passing, all our plans, all our dreams, all we seem to have accomplished, fade away. Only love, of which one could argue faith and hope are a part, only love is permanent. The first reading today and the Gospel speak of the end, the passing of the earth, of time itself, for nothing is permanent, all things will pass. Toward the end of the last century, the 20th century, a cottage industry grew up around the idea that the end is near, so you had better get ready. Books, movies, television shows, all based on the idea that the signs of the times indicated that the end was at hand, maybe even by the end of the 20th century. Well, it’s 2009 and we’re still here. Perhaps those involved in the end of the world business should have read the last line of the Gospel, "But of that day or hour, no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father." So the end may be at hand, or maybe not. Other scholars have interpreted all of this end of the world stuff as not the end of the world but the end of the age, meaning that a new age is coming, has perhaps even come. Either way, both say look at the signs, see that things have changed. Things have indeed changed, and we have the sign that they have, the only sign we need. Christ said to learn from the fig tree. When leaves sprout, you know summer is near, an obvious sign, but one we don’t often think about, one we take for granted. The fig tree sprouts leaves, the leaves spread over the tree. Our sign for “the end” has come. Or perhaps not “the end” but the end of the beginning. It’s a sign we don’t often think about, one we take for granted. Christ has come, what other sign do we need? Like the leaves on the tree Christ’s church has spread, growing, growing because of the one thing that lasts, love. No, we don’t always show it, we often fail to live it, but if love were not present, the church would have disappeared long ago. Only the love of God, the love that Christ makes manifest in the world, only this will last. Only love survives the passing of time, the passing of our world. All we do will fade away. The only thing that does not is the love we receive from God and spread to the world around us. That love survives everything for “There are but three things that last, faith, hope, and love.” And the greatest of these is love.

Deacon John
Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time
Nov. 15, 2009

Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-11-08T10:23:00.001-05:00

1 Kgs 17:10-16
Heb 9:24-28
Mk 12:38-44

Trust, it’s something we don’t seem to do very well. We don’t trust the government to necessarily do the right thing. We don’t trust big business, certain that they are simply out to fleece us for as much as they can get. We look at our neighbor suspiciously, wondering just what they are up to. We don’t trust our employers, afraid we are simply being used, that we are no more than a cog in a machine. I don’t dispute that much of this mistrust has a foundation in truth. People, all people, ourselves included, do too much to cause others to distrust us. Then we are suddenly asked to turn and trust God, to trust God completely, without question or reservation. A pretty big switch from the suspicion we hold everything else in. Elijah travels to Zaraphath. There he encounters a widow and asks her for some water and a bit of bread. There was a drought, and the subsequent famine resulting from the drought. The widow tells him I have only a small amount of oil and flour. My son and I will eat this then die. Yet Elijah urges her to trust that God will care for her, and so God did. She fed Elijah, herself and her son and the oil and flour never ran out, because she trusted. Jesus comments on those putting offerings into the Temple treasury, stating that the one who put in the least actually put in the most. The widow was poor, yet gave what she had, even though she would have little or nothing after her contribution. She was able to trust, trust that God would care for her. Were those widows just the product of a simpler time and a simpler people? Perhaps, but they were not fools, they knew what they were doing, they understood that they were placing themselves in God’s hands, depending on God to care for them. So how do we, complicated, modern, cynical people come to trust in God, trust that God will care for us? How do we break this cycle of distrust we live in? I wish I had an easy answer, I don’t. It’s a struggle, a daily struggle for all of us. We are taught to be self-reliant, depend on no one, take care of yourself, no one else will. Yet at some point in all of our lives we will find ourselves in a position we can’t take care of, a problem we can’t fix, we will need someone, we will need help. I may not be able to bring myself to trust that any authority will help me, be it governmental or corporate. I may not even trust those I should, friends and family. I should turn to God, but do I even trust that God will help me? The problem is that we do not turn to God or anyone until we need help, until our situation seems as desperate as the widow of Zaraphath. Trust can’t simply be the product of desperation, that isn’t trust. We must develop a sense of trust long before we become desperate, we must believe that God, if no one else, is for us, will care for us. We must have faith. Faith must be the basis of our decision making, the basis of our lives. It is only in having faith that we can trust. If we accept faith, have faith in God, before times are desperate, we can trust God knowing that as St. Julian of Norwich said, “But all will be well, and every kind of thing will be well.”
Deacon John
Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time
Nov. 8, 2009

Solemnity of All Saints

2009-11-01T19:22:00.002-05:00

Rv 7:2-4, 9-14
1 Jn 3:1-3
Mt 5:1-12a

I know I have done this and I feel certain many others have done the same. You begin to work on a project, a very important project. Because this project is so important you want it to be right. Indeed, you want it to be more than right, you want it to be perfect, absolutely perfect, completely without flaw. So you work on it, tinkering with this part, changing that part, always doing little things to make it better, just a little better than before, pushing it tweaking it seeking that elusive state of perfection. A state which, unfortunately you will never reach. Since it’s not perfect, you never put it out, you never put it into practice, you never use it. You wait for perfection, but it never comes. You wait for perfection, so it never gets done. You can’t wait for everything to be perfect. You have to implement your plan, your project, and correct things as they come up, otherwise you will never do anything. You are working on a very important project right now, the project of your life. None of us are perfect, nor will we ever reach perfection, not this side of heaven. That does not mean that we should not live our lives, that we should not strive to be perfect, just realize you won’t get there. That is not a bad thing, it is simply being who we are. In the Gospel today Jesus lays out a set of principles, not rules, rather guidelines, ways to assist us in our striving for perfection. We are called to live as closely as we can following these guidelines. We are called to provide comfort, to be meek, to seek righteousness, to be merciful, to be clean of heart, to be peacemakers. Will we always succeed in doing these things? No, we won’t. Does it mean we shouldn’t try? No, we must try we must strive to reach these ideals, even knowing that we will fall short. Think of all the good people you have known in your life, people who have gone on before us, people you are relatively certain have reached perfection, people who are with God, saints. They have reached perfection now, but think back, were they perfect here, or did they struggle as they strove to live as Christ asks us? They reached heaven not because of earthly perfection, they knew they couldn’t be perfect here. They reached heaven because they didn’t let their shortcomings keep them from living, from reaching out to be perfect, and fixing things as they went. They put the project of their life out there in the world despite not being perfect. They reached for what they knew they couldn’t reach here, and that is what makes them saints. Perfection comes, but only in the striving for it. Their example is the one we need to follow. Reach for what you know is out of reach here, so you may reach it in God’s time.

Deacon John
The Solemnity of All Saints
Nov. 1, 2009

Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-10-25T08:04:00.001-04:00

Jer 31:7-9
Heb 5:1-6
Mk 10:46-52
Back in the dark ages when I was a child, I remember a cartoon about a little bird named Yakee-doodle, a cat whose name escapes me who spent all of his time trying to make Yakee his lunch, and a bulldog names Chopper who always intervened to save Yakee. When Chopper would grab the unfortunate cat just before he could finally catch and consume Yakee, Chopper would turn to Yakee and say, “Close your itty-bitty eyes, you shouldn’t oughta see what’s going to happen next.” We’re a bit like the little bird, with our itty-bitty eyes shut, so we can’t see what’ happening around us.
Bartimaeus, a blind man, waits for Christ to approach, then cries out, Jesus, Son of David, have pity on me. Jesus has Bartimaeus brought to him and asks him what he wants. Bartimaeus, without hesitation, says I want to see. Jesus restores his sight, and says to him his faith has saved him. His faith, faith in Christ, has restored his sight. Ah, he can see, but now he can see all that is around him, faith has opened his eyes to the world, the beauty and the pain, the wonder and the horror. We gather today and approach this table in faith. We have faith in Christ, yet we are afraid to see. We want to open our eyes and see the beauty around us, but our vision isn’t exclusive, we can’t see the beauty without also seeing the pain, the wonder without the horror. We don’t want to see the awful things of the world, but we must. Our faith demands it. We are called to see that pain and horror, and act, act to change it to make the pain beauty, the horror, wonder. We can do this, but only in faith. We can do this, but only if we allow our eyes to be opened. Chopper told Yakee to close his itty-bitty eyes, he shouldn’t oughta see what was going to happen. Christ says to us open your eyes, your faith has saved you. Open your eyes so your faith can move you.
Deacon John
Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Oct. 25, 2009

Twenty-ninth Sundau in Ordinary Time

2009-10-18T19:04:00.001-04:00

Is 53:10-11
Heb 4:14-16
Mk 10:35-45

Be careful what you ask for, you might get it. Sounds silly, but it is a reminder that the things want often come with a price, a price we did not expect, and a price we may not wish to pay. I remember many years ago as a child watching a show about a young boy who had only one eye. People, particularly other children, teased him mercilessly. He was miserable, he hated enduring all the teasing he took for having only one eye, and wanted something to happen to stop the torment he felt. He dreamed of a day when people would stop tormenting him because he had only one eye. One evening, while watching a fireworks display, a stray spark struck the boy, struck him in his good eye. Suddenly he was blind, instead of one eye, he had none. The teasing he endured the torment he had faced certainly ended. I doubt he wanted it to end the way it did, but in the end he did get what he asked for. In the Gospel today the sons of Zebedee, James and John, approach Jesus asking that when Jesus comes into his glory they be seated one on his right and one on his left. Jesus essentially tells them to be careful of what they are asking for, they may get it. He warns them they must follow his path, the path of the suffering servant. They are seeking glory, Jesus warns them they will find hardship, difficulty, pain, death. He also warns them that the path to glory is not a path of leadership that lords over people, but it is rather a path that leads through service. To follow Christ, to get what they seek, they must be ready to suffer and to serve. To follow Christ they must follow the example of Christ and serve others, serve those who would seem to be beneath them. Christ wants them to understand no one is beneath them, no service is too menial, no person unworthy of their work. Glory is not what they think. Real glory is found in being ready to serve, being ready to suffer, in the pouring out of self. We who seek to follow Christ, we who wish to share in the glory of Christ, who may wish to be seated on Christ’s right or left, we must understand what real glory is. Glory has a price, a price we must be willing to pay. Real glory comes to us when we pour ourselves out, when we share what we have, what we are, with those some may deem unworthy of our love. To lead we must serve. To find Christ and share in Christ’s glory, we must be willing to give who we are. We must understand what it is we are asking for.

Deacon John
Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Oct. 18, 2009

Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-10-11T19:48:00.001-04:00

Wis 7:7-11
Heb 4:12-13
Mk 10:17-30

I have to admit that I have a relatively comfortable life. While I am not wealthy, I certainly lack for almost nothing. My waistline will definitely attest to the fact that I am not starving. One could say that I am blessed by God, but I am not fool enough to believe that just because I am not poor, God somehow favors me over others. I do not believe that God loves me more than someone who is less fortunate than I am. That strikes me as being more than a bit arrogant, and certainly more than a bit foolish. But some people do see things just that way. The people of Jesus time did see things just that way. When Jesus proclaimed that it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God they were genuinely shocked. Wealth was a sign of God’s favor. One who was sick or poor must have done some evil thing to deserve such a fate. A young man approaches Jesus and asks how he may attain eternal life. Jesus admonishes him to keep the commandments. He replies I do and have, all my life. Jesus then tells him, go and sell all you have, give it to the poor, then come and follow me. The young man was devastated. He was like me, like many of us. He had a comfortable life, possessions, to him signs of God’s favor. Give it away, be poor, like a sinner, like one who hadn’t followed the commandments? He simply could not do it. I don’t condemn him, I don’t know that I could do it either. But let’s not make the mistake that Jesus was condemning his wealth, that Jesus was opposed to what the young man had, Jesus wanted to know something else. What were his priorities? What was more important, his possessions, or God? What really mattered to him? Jesus asks that same question of us. What are our priorities? What comes first, your stuff, or God?

Deacon John
Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Oct. 11, 2009

Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-09-27T20:08:00.001-04:00

Nm 11:25-29
Jas 5:1-6
Mk 9:38-43, 45, 47-48

When we find ourselves in a leadership position, especially ministerial leadership positions, there are a couple of traps that we need to avoid, traps that are very easy to fall into. Indeed, we can fall into these traps almost before we realize it. First, we have to be careful not to take ourselves too seriously. We have to avoid becoming too self-important. We can easily place ourselves on a pedestal, thinking we deserve to be there, that people should look up to us, because after all, aren’t we important? Climb up on that pedestal, and find out how far down the trip can be. You aren’t that important. It’s not about you, something we can forget. The other trap is even more insidious, and in some ways harder to avoid. People around you begin to think you are important, more important than you really are, and they place you on a pedestal. Suddenly, to them, everything is about you, not about the mission, not about God. Then you, as leader, have to recognize what is happening and get off that pedestal as fast as possible. Moses recognized this. Eldad and Medad were prophesying, even though they were not part of the group around the tent. Joshua urges Moses to stop them, but Moses avoided the trap. “Are you jealous for my sake? Would that all the people of the LORD were prophets! Would that the LORD might bestow his spirit on them all!" Moses recognized that it wasn’t about him, it was about God. Why would he stand in God’s way, just to be important in the eyes of other people? Moses knew that he didn’t matter, only the word of God mattered, and the spreading of that word. In the Gospel john rushes to Jesus to inform him of a man driving out demons in the name of Jesus. Stop him, he doesn’t follow us, he’s not one of us. He’s not special, like we are. Jesus turns to John and says why stop him? If he were against us he couldn’t do these things in my name. Jesus wanted his followers to see that it wasn’t about them, about status, about being important, it’s about spreading the Good News. Spreading it every way possible. Everyone is called to spread the Good News of God. The Gospel is not something left to someone else, someone we may want to place on a pedestal, someone we want to surrender our responsibility to. We are all called to spread the Word, top spread the Good News. The Spirit that rested on Eldad and Medad, the Spirit that came to the Apostles, is the Spirit we share, the Spirit that calls us to stay off the pedestal, the Spirit that calls us to avoid putting someone else on that pedestal, the Spirit that calls us to speak, to be bearers of the Word, to spread that word to the world.

Deacon John
Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Sept. 27, 2009

Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-09-19T22:46:00.000-04:00

Wis 2:12, 17-20
Jas 3:16-4:3
Mk 9:30-37
Everybody had it figured out. The earth was the center of the universe, the moon, the sun, the planets, all revolved around the earth. I mean, it seems so obvious, all you have to do is look up. We’re not moving, everything else is. But, in 1530, a guy named Copernicus figured it out figured out that we had it all wrong. The earth isn’t the center of the universe, the sun is. The earth spins on its axis as it goes around the sun. By the early seventeenth century Galileo, using the telescope confirmed the theories of Copernicus. What a let down. The earth isn’t the center of the universe. We aren’t the center of the universe. Humans aren’t the center of everything. We seem to have an easier time accepting the Copernican world view, the planetary system of the sun at the center, than accepting the idea that we human beings are not the center of the universe, that each of us individually is not the center of the universe. Our failure to grasp that we are not the center of our own personal universe leads to a myriad of problems. We place ourselves at the center, and expect everything to revolve around us, and this leads to conflict. After all everyone else seems to believe that they are at the center of the universe. We can’t all be there, now can we? No wonder James says “Is it not from your passions that make war within your members? You covet but do not possess. You kill and envy but you cannot obtain.” We all seek to be first, to be on top, to get what we want, no matter the consequence. Christ tells us to give up our desire to be at the center. We are servants. We fail to realize that we revolve around the Son.
Deacon John
Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Sept. 20, 2009

Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross

2009-09-15T05:40:00.002-04:00

Nm 21:4b-9
Phil 2:6-11
Jn 3:13-17

Christ was lifted up, but not in the way he should have been. Christ was lifted up and emptied himself completely, his life poured out that we might look up, gaze upon him, and live. Christ poured himself out, an act of kenotic love, a total emptying of self for others, for us. The perfect example of the call that each of us has received, the perfect sign of God’s vast love for us. Wee are called to this same kenotic love, this total emptying of self, for God, for the people of God. I especially address this idea of kenotic love this day to my brothers in diaconal ministry. Christ as servant is, and should be our ideal. We are called to this same kenotic love, to be the example before others of this great self-emptying. Not an easy task, I know. But we have before us the perfect example to follow. All we must do is look up, look up and gaze upon the one lifted up for us, for when we look up, we live.

Deacon John
Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross
Sept. 14, 2009

Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-09-13T21:51:00.001-04:00

Is 50:5-9a
Jas 2:14-18
Mk 8:27-35
In these times I count myself fortunate to have a job. I am in fact more fortunate that many in that I have a job that I love. I’ve had jobs I hated, but did them because, well because I had to in order to survive. This job, the job I have now, I truly love. I do, however, have to do a bit more than just love my job. I cannot simply sit around saying I love my job, I have to actually do my job, else I won’t have it to love for long. I can’t just say I love my job, there is action required on my part. So it is with our faith. We cannot simply say I believe, and then do nothing. To say I believe, then do nothing about that belief, is an empty gesture. Faith requires action. By our Baptism we are called to action. We are called to act, to live our faith. By our Baptism we are called to live an active faith life, indeed we are obligated to be active in our faith. Jesus called upon his followers to take up their cross and follow me. That is a call to act, to do something. We cannot be passive and take up our crosses. We are called to serve those around us in whatever way we can. Whether that service takes the form of physical labor on the part of the people of God, or the act of prayer, if that is all you are able to do, we must act. Will my good works, my actions on behalf of my faith save me, will they get me into heaven? No, of course not, we cannot earn salvation. We cannot simply be bystanders, mouthing belief, but doing nothing. As the author of James states, “So also faith of itself,
if it does not have works, is dead. Indeed someone might say, “You have faith and I have works.”
Demonstrate your faith to me without works, and I will demonstrate my faith to you from my works.”
Baptism, belief in Christ is a call to action, a call to have faith, and then to live that faith in how we serve others.
Deacon John
Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Sept. 13, 2009

Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-09-06T14:42:00.001-04:00

Is 35:4-7a
Jas 2:1-5
Mk 7:31-37

Deafness. Try to imagine what it is like to not be able to hear. Think of all the things you take for granted that you would miss, the sound of birds, the patter of rain on the roof, music. Things most of us never give a second thought would not be a routine part of life. I am not deaf, but my parents are. I have been around the deaf all my life. Imagine the sense of exclusion you would feel. Left out of conversations, struggling to understand what people around you are talking about. I remember my father referring to lip-reading as lip guessing, and he did well in communicating with the hearing. Making yourself understood can be frustrating. Jesus opened the ears of the deaf man, making it possible for him to understand what was happening around him. Jesus also gave him a voice, the ability to speak about what was happening around him. My brothers and sisters I propose to you that all of us are quite deaf, that all of us are quite mute. We are spiritually deaf, and, without the help of God, we are unable to hear God’s word. Since we can’t hear it, how can we speak of it? Jesus comes and opens our ears so we may hear and understand the word of God. Jesus makes it possible for us to hear the words of love, compassion and caring that God wants us to communicate to the world. Even more, once we hear the word of God, we hear another sound, the sound of the suffering around us. We hear the cry of the poor, the call of the homeless, the crying of the child in need. Indeed, once we hear, truly hear the Word, we cannot close out these other sounds. We are compelled by our faith to speak, to use the voice we have been given to speak out about the plight of those in need. We hear, and we must speak, we must act, we must do what we can to help quiet those cries Our faith demands nothing less.
Deacon John
The Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time
Sept. 6, 2009

Twenty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-08-30T18:26:00.001-04:00

Dt 4:1-2, 6-8
Jas 1:17-18, 21b-22, 27
Mk 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23
"We have met the enemy... and he is us"
Pogo
Tradition is a wonderful thing. Tradition provides continuity, a way of passing truths and practices down through the generations. Laws are also good things, they provide order and stability. Both tradition and law are good and important things, right up until the time we become enslaved to them. Then we have to re-examine what may be an unhealthy relationship between us as believers in Christ and the traditions and laws we follow. In today’s Gospel the Pharisees excoriate the followers of Jesus for failing to observe the tradition of the elders. They ate a meal without washing their hands. Now, hand washing is not a bad thing, it is indeed a good, common sense practice. The problem is when does hand washing go from a way of honoring God to a practice more important than God? The Gospel writer goes on to list other ways that the Jews practiced these traditions, various ritual cleansings of self and objects. Again, there is nothing wrong with them; indeed they are good sanitary practices. Yet these practices can be come so ritualized, so common, their original purpose, honoring God, is forgotten. Jesus turns on the Pharisees, letting them know that their rituals are empty when they fail to keep the meaning of the ritual in their hearts. They are merely lip service, meaningless gestures. The object you use may be clean, but is the intent with which you use it clean? Using a clean cup, or eating with clean hands does not make you clean within.
We can’t look at the Pharisees too haughtily, because we encounter the same difficulty. When do we become slaves to tradition, to ritual, making them empty and meaningless gestures? Does it really matter to God if I say the prayer at 11:01 and not 10:59? Does it really matter to God if my prayer is in English or Spanish or Greek or Latin or Sanskrit? When I read Scripture am I reading the words, or reading the Word? We are in danger of worshiping not God, but the tradition. We are in danger of worshipping not God, but the institution. The Scripture, the prayers, the traditions are a way to God, the Church is a way to God, they are not God. We can be so enamored of Scripture that we are worshipping the words, not the Word. We become our own worst enemy. Conversion of the heart comes from the grace of God working within. The traditions and laws can enhance that action of grace, they cannot replace it. Tradition is a wonderful thing. Tradition provides continuity, a way of passing truths and practices down through the generations. Laws are also good things, they provide order and stability. Good things when we use them to use them to lead us to God, not to replace God.

Deacon John
Twenty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time
Aug. 30, 2009

Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-08-23T00:54:00.001-04:00

Jos 24:1-2a, 15-17, 18b
Eph 5:21-32 or 5:2a, 25-32
Jn 6:60-69
Simon Peter answered him, “Master, to whom shall we go?
You have the words of eternal life.
The Christ had frightened them. He spoke words that were hard to hear, even harder to understand. Many could not, would not accept what Christ had spoken to them. Many turned and walked away. Many abandoned Christ, unable to accept that Christ is indeed the bread come down from heaven, that Christ is the bread of life, that Christ is life. Jesus turns to those closest to him, to that core group of followers and asks them if they too will leave. Simon Peter replies for the group, “Master, to whom shall we go?” To whom shall we go? It’s confusing out there. Things change, often at a pace we can’t keep up with. Changes come that may or may not be to our liking. Changes come that turn our worlds upside down. Things that we believed stable, unchanging, change. Confusing, frightening, anger-inducing, all of this and much more. Even things in our Church change. Change isn’t necessarily bad, after all change is a sign of life. Yet the words can be hard to hear, the change can be hard to make. Through all the changes in our lives, in our homes in our jobs in our Church there is one constant. There remains one unchanging truth. We have been given the words of eternal life. We have been given the Word, the Word that comes to us as we hear it proclaimed, the Word that come to us as we eat the bread of life. Through all the changes, changes that for us may be good, bad or indifferent one thing remains the same. One thing gives us hope, gives us a home, gives us life beyond all measure. When the changes you face start to become overwhelming keep in mind the words of Simon Peter, “Master, to whom shall we go?
You have the words of eternal life.
Deacon John
The Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time
Aug. 23, 2009

2009-08-16T21:52:00.000-04:00

Prv 9:1-6
Eph 5:15-20
Jn 6:51-58

Bread. An ordinary, simple part of daily life. It can take a few different forms. In my part of the world it can be a biscuit for breakfast, a roll with dinner, or slices of bread for a sandwich at lunch. How many times a day do we eat bread and how often do we really think about it? Maybe when we run out of it. It’s just there, ordinary, simple, a ubiquitous part of life. When Christ chose a way to be with us, to remain with us, why not choose bread? Christ chose bread as the way to stay with us because it is such an important, yet ordinary part of life. Christ didn’t have to explain the importance of bread to people. Yet he took this simple, ordinary item and raised it to sacredness.
“I am the living bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world.”
Christ becomes our bread, becomes the staple of life that we need more than we realize. The ordinary, the simple, becomes Christ, becomes sacred, becomes a way for us to encounter the sacred. We gather at the Eucharistic celebration and we eat the sacred bread that is no longer bread. We take Christ into ourselves, and we who are ordinary, we who are simple, are elevated. We take God within us and we are lifted to the sacred, we become more than what we were, we become one, truly one in Christ. We leave, carrying that oneness with us, to invite the world to join with us, with us as one in Christ.

Deacon John
Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Aug. 16, 2009

Feast of St. Lawrence

2009-08-11T19:59:00.001-04:00

2 Cor 9:6-10
Jn 12:24-26
You reap what you sow. An old cliché perhaps, but clichés are clichés for a reason. Often there is truth behind the words of a cliché. How we choose to live our lives, what we choose to give away and what we choose to keep from others, can be the measure of what we receive. Do we choose to give generously of what we have, or do we jealously guard our possessions, our time? Our faith calls us to be generous, to give all we have all we are. We are called to kenosis, self-emptying, pouring out of ourselves in imitation of Christ. Christ’s giving to us was kenotic, a complete self-emptying, a self-emptying we are called to as well. No, it is not easy. Yes it can be difficult, very difficult, but the reward is beyond measure. St. Lawrence, Deacon and Martyr, shows us an example of this kenotic giving. He emptied himself completely, even giving his life. I doubt that any of us will be called to give in that same measure, but we are called. When we do give, when we attempt this kenosis, we will find what seems to be a contradiction, it is in the self-emptying that we become full. In giving we gain more than we were.

Deacon John
Feast of St. Lawrence, Deacon and Martyr
Aug. 10, 2009

Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-08-11T19:57:00.000-04:00

1 Kgs 19:4-8
Eph 4:30—5:2
Jn 6:41-51

“Get up and eat, else the journey will be too long for you!”
Life is tough. Let’s face it. I don’t care who you are, what you have or don’t have, what you believe or don’t believe, life is tough. All of us will face difficulty, no one escapes problems. For some the difficulties of life are merely a burden to be borne. For others life’s hardships can be overwhelming. We face these hard times and feel alone, adrift in a world that cares nothing for you, a place where your problems are just one more set of difficulties that are everywhere. It is far too easy to become despondent and give up. The journey through life requires strength, strength that on our own we do not have. That strength is available to us, available in the bread come down from heaven, the bread of life that can sustain us on this difficult journey. Christ feeds us, gives us strength, strength in Christ’s presence in the word we hear, strength in Christ’s presence in the bread and wine we share. The strength we need is there, available to us, if we simply get up and partake of it. We must choose to accept the life giving strength that is granted to us, we must get up and eat.
“Get up and eat, else the journey will be too long for you!”

Deacon John
Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Aug. 9, 2009

Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord

2009-08-06T22:44:00.003-04:00

Dn 7:9-10, 13-14
2 Pt 1:16-19
Mk 9:2-10
About 25 years ago there was a documentary series on television called The Day the Universe Changed. Science historian James Burke would take an event in history, an event that seemingly was somewhat innocuous, and show how that event or idea or discovery changed the way we see the universe. These events were transformational events, because we were never the same after they occurred. They did indeed change the universe. These transformational events aren’t just great historic things, they also occur in our own lives. The day you become a parent, the world changes, you change. You will never see the universe the same way again. You have been transformed forever.
Jesus takes Peter James and John to the mountaintop. They have no idea why they are there, but for them the universe is about to change. Before their eyes Jesus changes, he is transfigured, he becomes so bright they can’t even look at him. They fall to the ground in terror. Then Moses and Elijah appear and speak to the transfigured Christ. Peter, James and John are terrified, they don’t understand what is happening or what they are seeing. They look up and everything is back to normal. But how can they ever see Jesus the same way again? Something happened, and because of it their universe is changed. As the undoubtedly confused disciples walk away with Jesus he tells them to keep this to themselves, tell no one until the Son of Man has risen from the dead. What does that mean? Only later, after witnessing the events of the Passion, death and resurrection of Christ do they realize what they saw. Only later do they realize they have been witness to the glory of God. Like the events described by James Burke, only later did they realize the universe-altering event they witnessed. We have the opportunity to participate in this universe-altering event. Through the Sacraments, through particularly the Eucharist, we have the opportunity to see the glory of God. We have the chance to share in that glory. We can be transformed. When we receive Christ, how can we ever be the same again? We are changed. When we receive Christ, when we accept Christ, the universe is changed.

Deacon John
The Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord
Aug. 6, 2009

Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-08-02T18:30:00.002-04:00

Ex 16:2-4, 12-15
Eph 4:17, 20-24
Jn 6:24-35
“This is the work of God, that you believe in the one he sent.”
What does it mean to believe in the one God sent? Is it a simple act of affirmation, or is there more involved? Belief in the one sent by God is more than affirmation, it is immersion, immersion into the person of Christ. When one enters a profession it is not simply a matter of saying I’m a doctor or a lawyer or a plumber or an electrician. To be one of those requires immersion into the subject, study, practice, and the realization that you will never know everything there is to know about your field. You have to keep up with the advances in your chosen field, continually learning and re-learning, consulting books and others in your field so that you can continue to do the work you have chosen and to do it well.
So it is when we choose to do the work of God. We declare our belief, we affirm that we are followers of Jesus Christ, but we cannot stop there. We must keep up, we must immerse ourselves into the subject, into the body of Christ. We gather on this day and we hear the word of God. We take in that word, seeking to make it a part of us, applying that word to our lives. We then consume the bread become the Body of Christ, we consume the wine become Christ’s blood. We take in that Word, and in that taking in of the Body, we become what we receive. We receive the Body of Christ and become the Body of Christ. We are immersed in Christ as we act on our belief that Christ is indeed the one sent by God. We are immersed in Christ as we prepare to do the work of God.
“This is the work of God, that you believe in the one he sent.”

Deacon John
Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Aug. 2, 2009

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-07-27T22:06:00.001-04:00

2 Kgs 4:42-44
Eph 4:1-6
Jn 6:1-15

Gift-giving. It can be a source of great frustration. We search for the right gift, wanting everything to be perfect. We worry, especially when the gift is intended for someone we love, if the gift is good enough. Is our gift worthy of the one we are giving it to? We want it to be enough, more than enough, we want our gift to be perfect, not just adequate, but perfect. We want it to be, but of course it is not. So we worry. We really have nothing to worry about though. When we give a gift out of love, to someone we love, when we give a gift out of love to someone who loves us, that gift is not just adequate, it is enough, much more than enough.
A large crowd followed Jesus across the Sea of Galilee. They followed because of the signs he was performing on the sick. They followed, and showed no signs of leaving. They needed food, so Jesus turns to his followers and asks, where can we buy food for them. Buy food for them, there were thousands, of people. It would be impossible to get enough food anywhere to feed them. The followers of Jesus had no idea of where they should turn when a young boy steps forward carrying his gift. Five loaves and two fish, five loaves and two fish to feed all of those people. A gift that appeared to be hopelessly inadequate. Five loaves and two fish would not feed a dozen people, much less thousands. Yet he offered his gift in love, to someone he loved, to someone who loved him, and all were fed, with baskets full of leftovers.
Each of us has a gift, large or small, it does not matter. Each of us has a gift to offer, a gift we can offer in love. We offer our gift to one we love, we offer our gift to the one who loves us beyond all measure, and that gift is more than adequate, it is more than enough, it is made abundant.

Deacon John
Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
July 26, 2008

Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-07-19T17:43:00.001-04:00

Jer 23:1-6
Eph 2:13-18
Mk 6:30-34
Lost, they were lost and searching for…something. They weren’t even sure what they were seeking. They only knew something was missing, there was an empty space that nothing could fill, until they heard his voice, until they heard his words. They knew they had found what was missing, they had found what they were searching for. Jesus was taking his apostles to a place to rest after their labors, away from the crowds, a quiet retreat. The people, however, desperate to hear him, to learn from him, to be with him, found out where he was going and rushed to get there ahead of him. So when Jesus and the apostles arrived the throng was waiting for them. Jesus saw them and knew they needed him, they needed to hear him, to learn from him, just to be with him. He was moved and began to teach them. Too often we are lost, searching, looking for something, looking for meaning, looking for truth. We wander about but never seem to find it. Many people my age wandered off seeking truth and meaning in other faiths, in astrology or Eastern mysticism. Some looked for truth in drugs. They looked but never found it. They searched and discovered their search led them back, back to the place they started from, back to Christ. Back to the Christ who waits for us, who longs to teach us, to give us meaning, to be with us. We know where Christ is. Let us hasten there for Christ waits to teach us many things.

Deacon John
Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
July 19, 2009

The Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-07-04T12:47:00.000-04:00

Ez 2:2-5
2 Cor 12:7-10
Mk 6:1-6

Who do you think you are? Just exactly who do you think you are? Where do you get off, do you really think you’re that much better than we are? I know you, I know you family. You’re father is just a carpenter. You’re nobody special, why should we listen to you? You come in here all high and mighty, let us knock you down a peg or two. That can sum up the reaction Jesus received in Nazareth when he went back there to teach, to preach. The reaction of the people seems on the surface to be mean spirited. It is a reaction we have all seen before, a reaction to someone who has separated themselves in some way from the larger group. We react badly, at times, seeming to want no one to do more, or be more. We act as though their change in some way diminishes us. I think, though that this reaction isn’t necessarily mean or vengeful or envious. I think the reaction is fear. We are afraid of what one person’s growth or change means for us. If that person is really no different than we are, no better than we are, that means we can change and grow as well. We can step out of the larger group, and we are afraid. If those people of Nazareth had asked Jesus I’m sure he would have told them that, indeed, he was one of them, and they could, if they would, follow and be like him. But they were afraid, afraid of what change might mean, afraid that if we change we stop being who we are, or at least who we think we are. If we change we may stop being ourselves. It is the same fear we have, the same fear that moves us to try and drag down someone who has dared to separate themselves, someone who dares to be different, someone who unhesitatingly and without fear attempts to openly follow Christ. We want them to stop, we want them back, we want them to be who they were, we want them to stop challenging us to change. We are afraid, afraid of losing who we are, afraid to change, afraid we will stop being ourselves. If we would only realize that by embracing Christ, we don’t stop being ourselves, we become more ourselves than we realized was possible. The change we are called to makes who we should be, who, if we are honest with ourselves, we really want to be. We can change, if we simply embrace the gift of faith that is ours. Faith can relieve or fears, faith can make the change possible. Will we be perfect? No, we will fall. Will we stop being afraid? Some of the time, and with practice more and more of the time. We can be ourselves, our true selves, only with faith. We need not fear, yet I’m afraid that Jesus is still amazed at our lack of faith.
Deacon John
The Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
July 5, 2009

Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-06-27T15:15:00.001-04:00

Wis 1:13-15; 2:23-24
2 Cor 8:7, 9, 13-15
Mk 5:21-43 or 5:21-24, 35b-43
Life and death that is what is facing us today. Life and death and the choice we make, and the choice God has made. In today’s Gospel Jesus encounters two women who are dead. You may argue that the one was not really a woman, but a child. Perhaps, but in her time she would have been close to marriage age, so she is a woman. The other you may somewhat justifiably argue isn’t dead at all. She may be ill, but she is alive. Yet her illness, her disease, makes her an outcast, untouchable, unfit to live in society. So, she is for all intents and purposes dead her society. In the appearance of Jesus she is faced with a choice, life or death. She summons up her courage and reaches for Jesus hem, reaches for life. She reaches for life because she has faith, faith that Jesus, that God, will give her a new life. Her hope is not dashed; she does get the new life she reached for, because of her faith. A man comes to Jesus, asking him to save his seriously ill daughter. As he is leading Jesus to his home people arrive to tell him it is too late, she has died. Jesus turns to the man and says do not be afraid, have faith. They continue to the place where the younger of our women lay, apparently dead. Yet Jesus turns the mourners away, saying she merely sleeps. They laugh at him, they know death when they see it. Yet for Jesus no situation is hopeless. Faith again triumphs over death. Jesus takes her hand, commands her to rise, and she does. Faith, faith stronger than fear, stronger than death, brings life. God chooses life for us, not death. In our first reading we hear, “God did not make death, nor does he rejoice in the destruction of the living. For he fashioned all things that they might have being;” and “For God formed man to be imperishable; the image of his own nature he made him.” God wants life for us, yet we so often choose not to grasp that life that is ours to take. We turn away, either out of fear, or not believing that our faith is enough. We are simply too evil for God to forgive us, to give us a second chance, for God to give us life again. We are so, so wrong. God does not give second chances, God give third and fourth and fifth chances. God give us all the chances we need to accept the gift of life being offered us. Nothing, nothing we can do separates us from the love of God. Fear is what separates us, fear that we simply don’t have enough faith. Any faith is enough faith, God is not measuring quantity. Faith and trust and hope in a new life, they are not things to fear. Jesus told the synagogue official, do not be afraid. The woman who was ill overcame her fear. Each was given a precious gift, life, new life in Christ. Do not be afraid, reach out, touch the hem, seize the life that God wants you to have.
Deacon John
Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
June 28, 2009

Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-06-21T20:04:00.001-04:00

Jb 38:1, 8-11
2 Cor 5:14-17
Mk 4:35-41

It has been a somewhat stormy year, at least in my part of the world. Ice and snow storms in the winter, wind and thunderstorms in the spring. These storms have caused a lot of trouble, loss of electrical power, damage to homes, often caused by trees that could not weather the storm. When you’ve faced a lot of storms, you tend to go one of two ways. Either you just get plain sick of them, and become leery every time the weather seems to be turning bad, or you become afraid of them, fearful that the next storm is the one that will destroy you and everything you have worked for. In the Gospel today the followers of Jesus are facing a storm at sea. As the storm grows in intensity, they grow more and more frightened. Jesus, for his part, is so calm, so unperturbed, that he is sleeping in the stern of the boat. They finally become so frightened, so certain that they are about to die, they wake Jesus up and ask him if he cares that they are about to die. Jesus, without fanfare, stops the storm, then looks at his disciples and asks, why are you afraid, do you not yet have faith? His disciples then ask each other, who is this that commands the wind and sky? He is the One who told Job I set the limits for the sea and fastened the bar of its door. He is the One who made them, made us, who set the limits of nature, who wrote the laws that govern the universe. He is the one who loves and cares for us. We live in a stormy time. We face a seemingly never ending war, an economy that is sinking like a rock, the prospect of losing one’s job, or being wiped out by market crashes or catastrophic illness. It is an uneasy time, filled with storms. It is very easy to be frightened. It seems that it only makes sense to be frightened. We can, however, survive these storms. We must strive to live a life that has the one thing the followers in the Gospel seemed to lack, faith. No, having faith will not automatically make everything better. You can have faith and still lose your job. You can have faith and still get wiped out. It would be fair of you to ask, so what will faith do for me? Faith can help you through the storms. Faith can help you face the storm, despite your fear. Faith is the one calm place in a world of storms. Faith won’t solve your problems, faith will help you face them. You are not facing the storm alone. The One who calmed the seas, the One who set its limits wants only to help you face these storms unafraid.

Deacon John
Twelfth Sunday In Ordinary Time
June 21, 2009

The Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ

2009-06-14T21:19:00.001-04:00

Ex 24:3-8
Heb 9:11-15
Mk 14:12-16, 22-26

Blood, lifeblood, it circulates through the body, giving life. Arteries take the life giving fluid from the heart through the body, veins bring the blood back to be renewed. Take the blood form the body and the body dies. Blood is essential to life. It is not surprising then that blood is used to seal covenants. The people of Israel gathered together to be sealed in their covenant by blood, the blood of bulls.
We gather together, brought to this place, this heart, to be renewed, renewed by the blood that is far greater than the blood of bulls, to be renewed by the body that is so much more than the ashes of heifers. We come together in this place to be made one in the body and blood that is greater than time, or place or bureaucracies or hierarchies. We come together to celebrate the covenant sealed in the blood of Christ, the blood that renews us, the blood that gives us life, the blood that is life, so that we may pour out into the arteries carrying that life to the world.
Deacon John
The Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ
June 14, 2009

Back at Last

2009-06-07T17:20:00.002-04:00

I've been missing in action for a few weeks. Those who follow my cancer blog, Me and Poindexter,know that I have had a relapse of my cancer, Multiple Myeloma. Traetment, almost always worse than the disease, has had me down for a bit, but I am now regaining strength, and finally able to write again. Hopefully I can continue every week for a while anyway. Thanks for your prayers.
Deacon John
The Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity
June 7, 2009

The Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity

2009-06-07T17:18:00.001-04:00

Dt 4:32-34, 39-40
Rom 8:14-17
Mt 28:16-20
There is a popular series of books you may be familiar with called books for dummies. For example there is Plumbing for Dummies, or Carpentry for Dummies, or Auto Mechanics for Dummies. These books take a subject and break it down into very simple components, to make the subject accessible to some one who may know absolutely nothing about it. I once purchased the book Philosophy for Dummies to help me get through a class in Philosophy. Believe me, I needed the help. I can’t say that after reading the book I understood Philosophy, I did not. But the book helped me enter into the subject. It helped me begin to grasp the mystery that was Philosophy. In some ways Scripture can be looked at as God for Dummies. Scripture is God’s self-revelation to us, a self -revelation broken down and made simple so that we can begin to enter into the mystery that is God. Now, any discussion of the nature of God must begin with this understanding, if you think you understand God, what you understand is not God. We will never, this side of heaven, understand the mystery that is God, particularly the mystery that God is Trinity, three persons in one God. God’s self-revelation is for us only a beginning, giving us the barest glimpse into God. In today’s Gospel reading we have one of the very few times the concept of God as Trinity is made explicit. Jesus tells his doubting followers to go forth and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. God revealed to us as Trinity, three persons, one God. A mystery, a great mystery that we can never comprehend. You can try, you can beat your head against the wall of that mystery, but all you’ll get for your effort is a headache. All we can do is accept that the nature of God is and will always be a mystery. All we can do is rely on faith, the faith that makes it possible for us to accept this mystery. God’s self-revelation to us is a doorway, a doorway that we enter only through faith. When we have stepped through that door in faith, accepted the mystery that we will not understand, then we can go forth and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

Deacon John
The Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity
June 7, 2009

Second Sunday of Easter

2009-04-19T21:09:00.001-04:00

Acts 4:32-35
1 Jn 5:1-6
Jn 20:19-31
Admit it. Go on, admit it. It’s true, you know it is. You just don’t want to admit the truth. It’s really nothing to be ashamed of. You doubt. Occasionally, in the deep recesses of your heart, you wonder, you doubt. I think we are rough on Thomas sometimes just because his story makes us confront our own doubt. There’s nothing wrong with the occasional doubt, the occasional question. It is, indeed quite normal, especially if you take your Christianity seriously. It is, after all, an incredible story. A human being rises from the dead? I’ve never seen it happen, I am relatively certain you’ve never seen it happen, yet that is what we are called on to believe. A human being, yet much more than a human being, lived among us, died a horribly violent death, then rose from the grave, living again, thereby assuring that we who follow, we who believe, will live as well. Thomas did not believe, would not believe, without proof. That is a lot like us. We want empirical evidence, proof that this theorem is true, before we believe that it is. Too often we don’t really want to believe, we want to know. Knowing something is true is not the same as believing something is true. Knowing requires proof, but it does not require faith. The mythologist Joseph Campbell was once asked by a priest if he would believe in a personal God, if he would have faith, if the priest could prove the truth of God’s existence. Campbell replied, if you can prove it, then what need would I have of faith? If we know we don’t need faith. The sun will rise in the east whether I have faith it will or not. The sun will set in the west whether I believe it will or not. I can state with certainty that Christ rose from the dead, but I say this because I believe. I say this because I have the great gift given by God, I have faith. The faith I have tells me this is true, despite the lack of evidence, despite the evidence against the possibility of what I believe being true. Being human, however, I do on occasion question, I do on occasion, doubt. That is when I must, I must, rely on my faith. Faith is what makes it possible to overcome the doubt. Faith is what makes it possible to, without seeing, believe.

Deacon John
The Second Sunday of Easter
April 19, 2009

Easter

2009-04-12T19:30:00.002-04:00

Acts 10:34a, 37-43
Col 3:1-4
Jn 20:1-9

“For they did not yet understand the Scripture that he had to rise from the dead.”
Who can blame them? The empty tomb was a mystery. They had no explanation. Had his body been stolen, had it been moved? Why was the tomb empty? They did finally understand why the tomb was empty. He had indeed risen, he was alive. He had conquered death. Then they began to learn even more of what the empty tomb means. A lesson that we can, that we need to learn. Life can be frustrating. We encounter difficulties of all manner, things that trap us, things that can place us in a tomb, a tomb that shuts us off from those around us, that tries to shut us off from God. These frustrations and difficulties can grow until we feel so trapped we begin to believe there is no way out. We lay in the tomb, trapped. In Christ we have our way out, if we will claim it. We do not need to lie in that tomb of our making. Christ sets us free. Christ rolls back the stone, creating for us an opening, a chance. Christ makes it possible for us to walk out and leave behind an empty tomb.

Deacon John
Easter Sunday
April 12, 2009

Good Friday

2009-04-10T14:11:00.002-04:00

Is 52:13—53:12
Heb 4:14-16; 5:7-9
Jn 18:1—19:42

Ecce Homo, Behold your King, or Behold the Man. Pilate brought Jesus out to the people and spoke these words. Behold him, he looked nothing like a king, and barely like a man. Rather, “there was in him no stately bearing to make us look at him,nor appearance that would attract us to him.” How could anyone be attracted to this beaten, bleeding figure? Why would anyone follow him? How could anyone see in this defeated man a king? Yet in this battered, bruised, bleeding figure is our salvation. Soon he would ascend his throne, be nailed to it, hang on it, apparently defeated. In this seeming defeat is our victory. In his death, our life. That battered, bruised, bleeding, crucified king sacrificed all for us. He gave everything so we might live. He hangs there, dying, to restore our life. Look, Behold the Man.
Deacon John
Good Friday
April 10, 2009

Holy Thursday

2009-04-09T14:32:00.003-04:00

Ex 12:1-8, 11-14
1 Cor 11:23-26
Jn 13:1-15

The water poured over their feet, into the basin as he washed their feet. Water, but more than water, as Christ poured himself, emptying the pitcher of water, emptying himself. Wine poured into the cup, the cup he took, and blessed, and gave to them to drink. Wine, but more than wine, as Christ poured himself into that cup. He emptied himself, giving all that there was to give, all for them, all for us. It was an act of kenosis, self-emptying, the total pouring out of all that he had, all that he was, all that he is. A pouring out of self, an emptying of self for us. An example for us to follow, a call for us to empty ourselves. We pour out ourselves for others, but more than ourselves. We empty ourselves giving what was poured out for us. We pour ourselves out and into the new life we share, our new life gained as we empty ourselves into Christ.

Deacon John
Holy Thursday
April 9, 2009

Palm Sunday

2009-04-05T16:09:00.002-04:00

So you could not keep watch with me for one hour?
What's our hurry? We can't seem to wait for Easter to get here. Get here and get done so we can end Lent, eat what we want on Friday and just get on with things. What's our hurry? This week is a week to be taken slowly, so that all that happens in this week can soak in, so we can experience the sacredness of this week. Today Jesus enters Jerusalem to cheers, only to find himself reviled by Friday, crucified, forgotten, so they hoped. But our hope and our life spring anew with the glorious event of Sunday, the day we have been preparing for these past weeks. Rather than rush through this week, savor it, celebrate it, use it, so we may be all the more ready to celebrate the Resurrection of Christ, our opening to life.
Deacon John
Palm Sunday
April 5, 2009

An Idea

2009-04-05T15:58:00.002-04:00

If you check the sidebar on the right hand side of this blog you will see that I have added a picture of Blessed John XXIII. Those who follow this blog may know know that I was diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma, an incurable but treatable cancer. I was in remission following an autologous stem cell transplant, but recently realized that something was wrong. The last few weeks as I have waited to see if Poindexter (my name for the disease) had returned or not, something (or Someone?) urged me to pray to Blessed John for his intercession, asking that I may be healed. I thought, why not? He is certainly (to me) the most important Pope of my lifetime. He brought about changes that affected millions, and changes that affect me directly. Without the changes he started, I could not do what I do, I could not be what I am, a Deacon of this Church. And, he's a namesake. So I have begun praying daily for Blessed John XXIII's intercession, that I might be healed, and that a cure for Multiple Myeloma might be found, so all can be healed. I hope that you will join me in this prayer for Blessed John's intercession, especially for the discovery of a cure.
Deacon John
Palm Sunday
April 5, 2009

Fifth Sunday in Lent

2009-03-29T21:09:00.000-04:00

Jer 31:31-34
Heb 5:7-9
Jn 12:20-33

In October of 1929, the American covenant collapsed. The stock market crashed precipitously, erasing millions of dollars of wealth. The Great Depression was on. The actions of some of the people, created a prosperity that was tenuous. Greed became the driving force of the economy, and it seemed everyone wanted to cash in. People strayed from what the American covenant was supposed to be, broke that covenant, and watched as the economy they created collapsed like a house of straw. Businesses collapsed and factories closed. Unemployment was rampant. There seemed to be absolutely no hope. Then came the presidential election of 1932 and the promise of a new deal, a new covenant, designed to end the economic distress that plagued not just this country, but the world. I have no intention here of arguing the politics, history, or economics of the New Deal. It was at that time obvious the old covenant had failed and it was time to change, time to re-craft the American Dream, to form a new American covenant. The people of Israel had drifted from their covenant with God. God knew that it was time for a new covenant, a covenant meant to change the people of Israel, a covenant meant to bring them back to knowledge of God, a covenant meant to re-commit them to God, to make them God’s people. This covenant would stand forever, a covenant forged in suffering, death, and resurrection. The covenant made possible by the coming of the Christ and Christ’s commitment to give everything for the people of God. Through the suffering endured by Christ, we live. The covenant forged in Christ’s blood, the covenant ratified by the empty tomb, is the covenant given to us. We become the people of God through this covenant. When we embrace what was done for us we reach for the life that is ours because of Christ’s death and resurrection. The people of America, our parents, grandparents, great-grandparents were offered a new deal, a new deal they seized, a new deal that offered a new life. Now is the time for us to seize again that new deal offered us by God, the new covenant in Christ, the new covenant that gives us new life, life that never ends.

Deacon John
Fifth Sunday in Lent
March 29, 2009

Fourth Sunday in Lent

2009-03-23T20:39:00.000-04:00

2 Chr 36:14-16, 19-23
Ps 137:1-2, 3, 4-5, 6
Eph 2:4-10
Jn 3:14-21

Let my tongue be silenced if I ever forget you.
What would you do for those you love? What would you do to keep them safe, to protect them? We all make sacrifices for the ones we love, but how far are you willing to go? Would you give up everything? In wartime we always hear these stories, a platoon of soldiers are in an enclosed area when a hand grenade is thrown into their midst. With nowhere to go, ands no time to get there, they are all surely going to die, until one soldier throws himself on the grenade, taking the brunt of the explosion and saving the others. If you were one of the soldiers saved by this act of bravery, this act of love, could you ever forget the one who made that sacrifice? I don’t think it would be possible to forget, you would think of that act, that person, every single day for the rest of your life, a life you have only because of that person. Not only would you never forget, you could never be silent about it. This is a story you would recount to anyone and everyone who would listen. It’s a story you would tell even to those who wouldn’t listen. Silence would be impossible. Each of us, each one of us has been saved by just such an act. Each of us has been saved and given new life by one who came and died for us. The most famous passage of scripture in the world, John 3:16. Watching a basketball game yesterday I saw someone in the stands holding up a sign, John 3:16. For God so loved the world… We have all been given life by the one who lived, died and rose, for us. You would think that we could never forget, but somehow we do. We forget the gift that we have been given, the gift given at great cost, the gift given out of love. We forget, and we remain silent. How can we be quiet about what has been done for us? How can we not tell everyone, everyone who will listen and everyone who won’t? For the rest of this Lent let each of us take time each day to remember, to remember what we have been given, what was done for us. Let us remember and speak out, not afraid or ashamed, but joyful that we have life through the sacrifice made for us.
Let my tongue be silenced if I ever forget you.

Deacon John
Fourth Sunday in Lent
March 22, 2009

Third Sunday in Lent

2009-03-16T05:29:00.003-04:00

Ex 20:1-17 or 20:1-3, 7-8, 12-17
1 Cor 1:22-25
Jn 2:13-25

Rules. We certainly seem to have enough of them. Why should we have so many? Why have any rules at all? We are, after all, free agents, able to do what ever we want. Ah, able to do what ever we want. So I suppose that explains why we have so many rules. We need a guide, something to follow, something to help us understand what we need to do, what we should do. In the first reading we have the basic rules, the Ten Commandments. These Commandments are the basis for much of our law, church and secular. These rules should be so much a part of us that we follow their guidance almost automatically. The only problem is that we don’t. We rebel, we hate rules, we hate being told what to do. We want to make sure we are taking care of number one, and if that involves bending or even breaking a few rules, well too bad. In the Gospel Jesus encounters those who are certainly watching out for themselves, not caring about what rules or norms they may be violating. They set up shop in the midst of the Temple precincts and fleece the worshipers as they go into the Temple. Were they providing a needed service? Yes, they provided the items needed for proper worship and sacrifice. But they were also turning the Temple into a marketplace. They lost sight of why the Temple was there, what the purpose of the Temple and even the purpose of their presence there was. Worshiping God, offering praise to God, seeking help from God, expressing love for God. That was the purpose of the Temple. It was the place to do these things. It was not meant to be a place of commerce and profit. It was meant to be a place about love, God’s love for them and their love for God. Remember that love, and suddenly the rules make sense, the rules do become easy to follow.
Why gather today in Church? Do we come together to worship our God, or do we come for other reasons? There are many things that can be factors in why we gather, rules being one of them. Nothing wrong with that, it is good that we come together, because by coming together and giving ourselves to worship, giving ourselves to God, we begin to understand that there is a better reason for our gathering, a reason that surpasses any other. When this happens the rules have served their purpose, they bring us to God, they bring us to love.

Deacon John
Third Sunday in Lent
March 15, 2009

P.S. On a completely non-theological note I have to say LOUISVILLE CARDINALS, CHAMPS OF THE BIG EAST OVERALL NO 1 SEED. WHOO-HOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
GO CARDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Second Sunday of Lent

2009-03-08T20:51:00.001-04:00

Gn 22:1-2, 9a, 10-13, 15-18
Rom 8:31b-34
Mk 9:2-10

Terror. Pure terror. That must have been what Isaac felt when he realized the sacrifice was him. How terrifying was it when his father bound him, placed him on the altar, raised his knife, fully prepared to kill him. What did Isaac feel when he was suddenly reprieved? He was spared by God, his father stopped from killing him, and a ram offered in his place. Did Isaac feel relief, joy, gratitude, or was the whole thing just too hard to accept? He should have been dead, but he was alive. Did he feel that in some way he had risen from the dead?
Terror. Pure terror. That must have been what Peter, James and John felt on that mountain top. Before their eyes the one they had been following changed, became dazzling, blindingly bright, hard to look at. Jesus revealed the glory that is God to them, and they were terrified. Perhaps they thought they had died and gone to heaven. When the episode ended, did they feel they had in some way been brought back from the dead? Then Jesus tells them not to tell anyone what they had witnessed until He had risen from the dead. They did keep quiet, they did not understand what risen from the dead meant.
Terror. Pure terror. Something we may feel occasionally when we realize the sacrifice should be us. When we honestly look at ourselves, our selfishness, our failures to love, we should feel terror. We understand that we do not deserve mercy, we do not deserve love, we act in a way that is often totally unlovable. But like Isaac, we are reprieved. Another stands in our place, the one who stood before Peter, James and John and was transfigured. We are saved by the death of Jesus, who dies for us. We are saved by the Christ, who rises from death, who enters new life and gives that life to us, if we are willing to see that we have, like Isaac, been reprieved. When we love as we are loved, we come to understand what risen from the dead means. We rise, and will be able to see the dazzling, blindingly bright glory that is God.

Deacon John
Second Sunday of Lent
March 8, 2009

Ash Wednesday

2009-02-25T22:02:00.002-05:00

Jl 2:12-18
2 Cor 5:20-6:2
Mt 6:1-6, 16-18

When we speak of God’s love and forgiveness to someone who is questioning, we all too often use big examples. Does God really love Hitler? Does God really forgive Hitler? Does God really love Charles Manson? Does God really forgive him? Does God really love and forgive Stalin? We glibly answer yes, because it is so easy to do. It’s abstract, not real. How about a more reality based question. Does God really love and forgive me? Now it’s personal. We may say yes, knowing intellectually the truth, but in our hearts the answer is no. How can God love me? I am so bad, I am so unlovable, there is no way God loves and forgives me. I don’t deserve to be loved, I don’t deserve to be forgiven. Well you’re right, you don’t deserve to be loved and forgiven, but you are nonetheless. You are because our God’s love for us is unimaginable and completely without condition. God loves us, God calls us to repentance, yes, but more importantly God calls us to relationship, to share in God’s unconditional love. We are not beyond redemption, we are not beyond salvation, we cannot escape God’s love. God wants us, the only thing holding us back is us. We are afraid to turn to God, to accept the love that is ours for the taking. As we hear in the hymn Hosea, “ Long have I waited for your coming home to me and living deeply our new life.” What are we afraid of, changing, of things getting better? It’s so good now? Again what are we afraid of? As we enter this season of Lent let us work to overcome our fear, let us strive to understand there is nothing to fear. Turn to the Lord, for as Paul tells us, “Behold, now is a very acceptable time; behold, now is the day of salvation.”
Deacon John
Ash Wednesday
Feb. 25, 2009

Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-02-22T21:20:00.001-05:00

Is 43:18-19, 21-22, 24b-25
2 Cor 1:18-22
Mk 2:1-12

A man is carried to Jesus so that he may be cured. Paralyzed, being borne on a mat, there is no way through the crowd, no way to reach Jesus unless they circumvent the crowd and go through the roof. The man is carried to the roof, a hole is opened in the roof, and he is lowered into the room, into the presence of the Christ. Jesus must have been taken by this novel approach and forgave the man and healed him of his illness. What faith, what courage, was shown here. A faith and a courage and a determination that led to healing, spiritual and physical. Such tremendous faith and love. I’m not speaking of the paralyzed man, but the ones who carried him to Jesus, who opened the roof, lowered him in, and made it possible for him to be aided by the Christ. What faith and what love! They had nothing to gain. No one remembers them, no one thinks of them. They are a sidebar to this story, almost forgotten. Yet without them this story does not happen. Without them the paralyzed man stays paralyzed. They are who we, who claim to believe, should be. Through their anonymous act of love they helped another reach faith and healing. We can imitate them by the way we live, by how we act, what we say and what we do. In living our faith, in striving to serve the People of God, in anonymously helping others to find Christ, we find Christ ourselves. So many are paralyzed, so many need our help. We, the Body of Christ, are called on to help them, and in helping them to help ourselves. We may be as anonymous as the men carrying the paralytic, but we are not forgotten, not by the One who matters. We may forget those four, But Jesus did not. Remember what the Scripture says, “When Jesus saw their faith…”

Deacon John
Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time
Feb. 22, 2009

Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-02-15T21:19:00.001-05:00

Lv 13:1-2, 44-46
1 Cor 10:31-11:1
Mk 1:40-45

Leprosy was a terrible thing. People who had this disease, who suffered from skin ailments, who were contagious, had to live apart from the community. People with this disease were separated from community life. They were unclean, untouchable, no longer one with their community. One with a sore or pustule had to present themselves to the priest who would declare them unclean, unfit to live with the rest of the people. Should the sore go away, should that person appear to be healed, they would cease to be unclean. They could return to the community. How did one get healed? Perhaps a miracle, perhaps a treatment worked, perhaps the sore simply went away on its own. Healing was, however, the only way back into the community.
A leper approached Jesus, seeking healing. Jesus granted the request, healing the man and instructing him to go to the priest to show that he was indeed healed, that he was no longer unclean. The former leper went away rejoicing, praising God, and telling everyone what Jesus had done. He no longer had to live apart from his neighbors, he could rejoin the community, the family of faith he had been separated from. We find ourselves in the position of the leper. We separate ourselves from the community through our disease, our leprosy, sin. Sin sets us apart, removes us from the community, makes us unclean. Through sin we cut ourselves off from our community, from God, from life. We, however, have the opportunity to do as the leper did. We can approach Jesus and seek healing from our spiritual leprosy. We ask for healing, we seek relief, and it is granted. We have no need to fear, no reason to stay apart. We need not wait for healing by chance, it will not come. We need only to turn to the Christ, to Jesus, and our healing will be complete. Our stain of leprosy is wiped away, we are restored to the community. We need not live apart, all we need to do is turn to Jesus and ask.

Deacon John
Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Feb. 15, 2009

Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-02-02T06:58:00.000-05:00

Dt 18:15-20
1 Cor 7:32-35
Mk 1:21-28

Here in Louisville it’s been a difficult week. A major ice storm roared through the city on Tuesday night and Wednesday, coating everything with inches of ice, causing tree limbs and entire trees to topple under the weight of ice, tearing down power lines causing a massive power outage, with about 250,000 people losing power. Even as I write this on Sunday morning about 95,000 people are still without electricity. Four people have died trying to find ways to heat their homes. Personally, we lost power sometime on Wednesday morning and didn’t get it back till late Friday evening. Like most people, we were not adequately prepared for this emergency. We had been warned, all the weather forecasters told us, this is coming, it’s going to be bad, get ready. We want weather reports, but when we get them we too often fail to pay attention. Weather forecasters must, at times, feel like Old Testament prophets, speaking truth to the people, only to be ignored. Moses, speaking to the people of Israel, tells them, you asked for a prophet and one is given to you, now listen to the prophet who speaks in God’s name. Listen to the one who speaks with authority. They too often failed to listen, to heed the words of Moses and the prophets who followed. They said they wanted to know, but did not heed the warnings they were given. They continually wandered away from the path God laid out for them.
Jesus spoke in the synagogue, teaching not as the scribes, but as one having authority. Jesus spoke the word of God to those who would hear. The people were astounded, by Jesus’ words and actions. “He commands even the unclean spirits and they obey him.” Jesus’ fame spread, more came to hear him, and some listened, learned, heeded what he said, and followed. Jesus, the Word of God, walked among us, teaching, showing us the path we are to follow. We hear the Word, but do we listen? The path we are to take is clear, yet we too often act as many did when weather forecasters warned of this storm. The Word is with us, the way is clear. Follow the path and be ready for the storms that come.

Deacon John
The Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Feb. 1, 2009

Third Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-01-25T15:29:00.001-05:00

Jon 3:1-5, 10
1 Cor 7:29-31
Mk 1:14-20

The man comes walking down the lakeshore, a group of people following him. There’s a buzz in the air about things he has done, things he has said. He walks past the brothers Simon and Andrew. They are fishermen, casting their nets into the Sea of Galilee. He calls to them, “Come after me,” and they abandon their nets to follow him. Farther down the shore he passes James and John, the sons of Zebedee, also fishermen. As they sit in their boat with their father Zebedee and the hired men he calls to them to follow him. They drop their nets, jump out of the boat, leaving their father Zebedee in the boat and follow him. What about Zebedee? What did he do? How did he feel? What was his reaction? Perhaps he simply sat there in stunned silence, watching his sons disappear down the beach with this man. Perhaps he tried to stop them. I can see Zebedee chasing them down the beach shouting at them, “Come back here! Where do you think you are going? We have work to do, a business to run, a family to feed.” He may have tried to stop them, but ultimately could not. Did he disown them, did he abandon them as he felt they had abandoned him? Or, did he approve of their going? Perhaps he even assisted them as they entered this new life. Maybe he went with them. We really don’t know. The only mention of Zebedee in Scripture that I can find is as the father of James and John. What did Zebedee do? What do we do when we find ourselves in the position that Zebedee found himself in? Should a loved one come to us, expressing a call to follow Christ in a new way, a deeper way, how do we react? Do we stare in stunned silence? Do we try to talk them into being “reasonable,” standing in the way intentionally or not? Or do we encourage them, perhaps even following them on the journey? When I approached my wife about entering the diaconate, I put her in the place of Zebedee. I’m sure she stared at me in stunned silence for a moment, but then she had to make the choice Zebedee had to make. Stop this, or allow it. Obviously, she chose to allow it, she chose to accompany me, so that we made this journey together. Someone comes to us, expressing a desire to follow Christ in a new way, a more meaningful way. It doesn’t have to be as big a commitment such as the diaconate, or entering the priesthood, or religious life. Perhaps it is just a change in attitude, a desire to do and know more. Perhaps they are simply taking their faith and their relationship with God more seriously. They approach us for approval, they make us Zebedee. How do we choose to react?

Deacon John
Third Sunday in Ordinary Time
Jan. 25, 2009

Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

2009-01-19T11:57:00.002-05:00

1 Sm 3:3b-10, 19
1 Cor 6:13c-15a, 17-20
Jn 1:35-42

Each of us is called by God, but how do we know that what we hear is God? Discerning the call of God can be difficult. God called Samuel, but Samuel did not realize that what he heard was God calling. Samuel, however had Eli to help him. Eli understood that the call Samuel heard was from God. Samuel responded when he knew the call was from God. In the Gospel reading two followers of John the Baptizer are told outright that Jesus is the Lamb of God, so they follow him. Andrew, one of these two who followed Jesus finds his brother Simon to tell him that they have found the Christ. They brought Simon to Jesus, who calls him directly, renaming him Cephas, Peter. There was no question about the call these people heard. Samuel had Eli to assist him, to tell him his call was from God. The followers of John the Baptizer are told by John that Jesus is the Messiah. Simon is called by Jesus himself, face to face. We, on the other hand, don’t seem to have quite so good. We probably don’t have an Eli around to assist us. We’re not likely to have a face to face encounter with Christ. We have to discern if what we think is a call is actually from God. Is the call a call toward selflessness, or selfishness? Selflessness is from God, selfishness is from us. Is the call a call to service, service to the people of God? If so it may indeed be a call from God. Is the call a call to right wrongs, to act justly? If so that call may indeed be from God. God calls us to pour ourselves out, to give ourselves to God, to give ourselves to the service of God’s people. This is what each of us, as followers of Jesus Christ are asked to do, to pour ourselves out, just as Samuel did, just as Andrew did, just as Peter did, just as the Christ did. We pour ourselves out in following God’s call, emptying ourselves, only to find the emptiness filled with God’s love and grace.

Deacon John
The Second Sunday in Ordinary Time
Jan 18, 2009

The Feast of the Baptism of the Lord

2009-01-11T20:53:00.000-05:00

Is 42:1-4, 6-7
1 Jn 5:1-9
Mk 1:7-11

John the Baptizer said, “One mightier than I is coming after me.” One mightier indeed. Yet this mighty one who comes, comes humbly, not as a conqueror but as a servant. This mighty one approaches the Baptizer and seeks baptism. Why? Why would the mighty one of God, the anointed one, the Messiah, the Christ, deign to be baptized by John? To show us the way and to open for us the door. At Jesus baptism the heavens were torn open, and the Spirit descended upon him like a dove, and the voice of God comes forth saying this is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased. In humility, the Christ is recognized as God’s beloved. The Word of God made flesh acts in humility, bows before God, and is recognized as the child of God. We, unfortunately, tend to be very, very arrogant indeed. Are we not the pinnacle of creation? Is not the entire world subject to us? We want to believe that. We act as though we are in control, yet we never really are. We study history and see how hubris caused others to fall, but we never seem to learn the lesson. There is much we can do, we have learned much. We are intelligent, but we are not wise. We fail over and over again to see the power in humility. The power of the Christ comes from humility. The power of the Christ comes from Christ’s willingness to bow before God, to accept the Spirit, to be led by the Spirit. We have the power to make that same choice. We can bow before God and allow the Spirit of God to be our guide. We can accept humility, and in that acceptance find true strength, real power. We can accept humility and hear God say to us this is my beloved child in whom I am well pleased.

Deacon John
The Feast of the Baptism of the Lord
Jan. 11, 2009

The Solemnity of Mary, the Mother of God

2009-01-01T06:05:00.002-05:00

Nm 6:22-27
Gal 4:4-7
Lk 2:16-21

Some of the tradition surrounding the Gospel of Luke states that he got his information directly from Mary. The line in this Gospel reading, “And Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart” probably helps fuel this idea. Whether Luke got information from Mary or not is really immaterial. The idea that Mary kept these things in her heart and reflected on them is important. I am sure she did. She’s a mother, she would always keep these things about her child in her heart, and she would reflect on them. Her child belongs to the world, but he is still her child. Mary’s child, however, came for us, for you and for me. How often do we reflect on what Christ did? Do we hold these things in our hearts? It seems fitting that we start the calendar year with this Solemnity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the Mother of God. We would do well to follow her example during the course of this new year, to hold these things in our hearts and reflect on what was done for us.

Deacon John
The Solemnity of Mary, the Mother of God
Jan 1, 2009

Feast of the Holy Family

2008-12-29T21:06:00.001-05:00

Sir 3:2-6, 12-14
Heb 11:8, 11-12, 17-19
Lk 2:22-40

The family has great power. It is after all the basic building block of our society. The family is where we learn about relationships, where we learn to get along with others. The family is where we learn to share, or not. Our family is where we are formed, where we are shaped. Our family goes a long way in determining what kind of person we become. Hopefully, most of us come from families that are loving and nurturing, which is what a family should be. Our family is where we should be able to go when we need help, when things aren’t going well for us. As those who read this blog often know, this past year has not been one of my best. Yet in my need I was able to turn to my family. My wife, my daughter, mother, sisters, brother, all of my family helped me to get through the trials of this year. I think, however that we need to re-examine our definition of family. During this year I have been supported close friends, people who were present for me and my family. These friends are family. But there is another family that I was able to turn to, the family of this faith community, this parish.
In the Gospel today Mary and Joseph, this newly formed family, this Holy Family, present Jesus in the Temple as the law requires. In the Temple is a man named Simeon, a man who has been promised that he will not die until he sees the Christ. When Jesus is brought into the Temple he immediately recognizes him. Simeon turns to Mary and says, “my eyes have seen your salvation, which you prepared in sight of all the peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and glory for your people Israel.” Simeon is letting Mary, Joseph, and all of us know that this child’s family is much larger than just the Jesus, Mary and Joseph. This child’s family reaches out to all of us, and all of us are invited to be a part of this family. Our shared faith in the Christ makes us members of this family. We are called to be a place of love and nurturing care for everyone in this family of faith. We are called to care for one another and then to extend that care beyond our own community to those who do not belong. We are called to live lives of invitation, lives that invite those outside to come in. We are called to open our faith family, so that we serve a larger family, the human family, so we may indeed be a holy family.

Deacon John
Feast of the Holy Family
Dec. 28, 2008

Feast of St. Stephen, Protodeacon and Protomartyr

2008-12-26T18:22:00.001-05:00

St. Stephen, Pray for Us

Christmas

2008-12-25T12:12:00.001-05:00

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

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light;upon those who dwelt in the land of glooma light has shone.”
We have walked in darkness. We have stumbled about, uncertain of where we are, where we are going, or how to get there. We stumble about in a darkness of our own making. We stumble about in a darkness brought about by our greed, our envy, our lust, our hate. We become ill, and live in the darkness of self-pity. We live in the darkness of our sin, failing to realize that we do not have to. The light of the Son has come, the light that can lead us, guide us out of the darkness we have created, into the light of beauty and freedom and peace. Today we celebrate the arrival of that Light, of the Son-Light that shows us the path. The path illuminated for us leads us to the only place we truly desire. The path illuminated for us by the Light of the Son takes us home, to the one who made us. We celebrate the coming of the Light, the Light that dispels all darkness, the Light that frees us, the Light that makes it possible for us to join the heavenly host in proclaiming,
“Glory to God in the highestand on earth peace to those on whom God’s favor rests.”
May this season bring you light and peace
Deacon John
Christmas Eve
2008

Third Sunday in Advent

2008-12-14T20:33:00.001-05:00

Is 61:1-2a, 10-11
1 Thes 5:16-24
Jn 1:6-8, 19-28

You’ve done this, I’ve done this, we have all done this. You see someone walking down the street and you are certain that that is an old friend, so you rush up to them, say their name, only to have then turn and reveal that this is not the person you thought. It’s a complete stranger. Embarrassed, you mutter an apology and turn away. The Levites, priests and Pharisees saw a man, a man crying in the wilderness, and they thought they knew who he was. They were, however, mistaken. John clearly tells them, I am not the Christ. Instead of turning away, however, they ask well then, just who are you? Are you Elijah? Are you the Prophet? Who sent you? John replies that as Isaiah said, he is the voice of one crying, make straight the way of the Lord. He is the forerunner of one those questioning him do not recognize. John plainly tells them there is one among you you do not recognize, one whose sandal strap I am not worthy to untie. John’s questioners will fail to recognize Christ in their midst. It’s a failure we all too often share. As we prepare for the celebration of the birth of Christ, as we prepare for Christ’s return, do we recognize Christ in our midst? In the single mother, struggling to care for her family, do we recognize Christ? In the person with mental challenges who tests our patience, do we recognize Christ? In that person that for whatever reason we just can’t stand, do we recognize Christ? In our spouses, our children, our parents, our families, doe we recognize Christ? In our friends, do we recognize Christ? Christ is in our midst, in these people. It is here that we must recognize Christ, or we will not recognize him in that infant we celebrate, or the in the one who is coming again.
Deacon John
Third Sunday in Advent
Dec. 14, 2008

Second Sunday in Advent

2008-12-08T20:00:00.001-05:00

Is 40:1-5, 9-11
2 Pt 3:8-14
Mk 1:1-8

In 1869 two rails met in Utah, one coming from the east, the other from the west. The meeting of theses rails tied America together by train. This did not just happen. It took much planning, and much preparation. The course of the rails had to be laid out, the route decided upon. Those coming from the west had mountains to contend with. They literally had to make crooked ways straight, fill in the valleys and level the hills. Surveyors had to lead the way, prepare the way, so the rails could meet. They prepared the way, but the work still had to be done. People still had to lay the track, put the ties in place, drive the spikes that held it all together. Only when the work was done could the dream of a transcontinental rail system become a reality.
John the Baptizer served as a surveyor. He cried out in the wilderness, showing the path that we must follow. He showed us the route, but the work still must be done. The way of the Lord must be made ready by us. We are the laborers, we must make straight the crooked paths, we must fill in the valleys and level the mountains and hills, of our souls. We must do the work, the work necessary to make ourselves ready for the coming of the Lord. Our task is often difficult, we have many obstacles, many mountains to contend with. It is, however, work well worth the effort. Advent offers us the time to hear John’s call, to begin following the path he surveyed for us, to make the crooked straight, to fill in the valleys and level the mountains, to make ready in our hearts the way of the One who came, and will come again.

Deacon John
The Second Sunday in Advent
Dec. 7, 2008

Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

2008-11-16T17:07:00.001-05:00

Prv 31:10-13, 19-20, 30-31
1 Thes 5:1-6
Mt 25:14-30

You may have noticed over the last couple of months that the economy has taken a slight turn for the worse. OK, a big turn for the worse. Many economists claim that this is the worst the economy has been since the Great Depression of the 1930’s. I hate looking at the statements I get about my 401K, I don’t think it can lose anymore money, but it always seems to lately. This isn’t exactly an inviting time to try and invest your hard earned money. The mattress is looking better and better all the time. But in some way I suppose we have to continue trying, hoping that eventually our investment will pay off.
In the Gospel today a man going on a journey gives each of his servants an amount of money, each according to their ability. The first seems to have been a wiz as he finds a way to invest his master’s money and double it from 5 talents to ten. Another servant who was given two talents finds a way to double that. The third servant, however, well he is reluctant to entrust his master’s money to the vagaries of the market, so he simply buries it, so he can give back the amount he was given. We, my brothers and sisters, are much like that servant. Our Master has given each of us a talent, a gift, a gift we can share with the world to help bring about the Reign of God. Too often we look at that gift we have received in the same way we look at our money in this time of economic crisis. We are reluctant to invest because we never seem to see any return. So we bury our talent, keeping it to ourselves and maybe, just maybe, a few others. The return on our investment may be small. But it’s better than throwing our gift out there to the world when it seems to accomplish so little. The question we need to ask ourselves is what is too little. I don’t care how wondrous and great your gift may be, you will not change the world. You don’t have to. If your gift touches one person, just one, and makes a difference in that person’s life, that’s enough. That the greatest return on investment you could hope for.

Deacon John
Thirty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time
Nov. 16, 2008

Dedication of the Lateran Basilica

2008-11-10T20:23:00.001-05:00

Ez 47:1-2, 8-9, 12
1 Cor 3:9c-11, 16-17
Jn 2:13-22

Today we celebrate a moment in history, the dedication of the Lateran Basilica. St. John Lateran is considered the mother church of Christendom. This is the pope’s main church, the cathedral of the Diocese of Rome, an important place, an important sacred space for all Christians. We also celebrate to a lesser extent our own parish church, the sacred space we gather in to celebrate the Eucharist. These sacred spaces are meaningful, and important, as a place for the People of God to gather. But as our second reading from 1 Corinthians reminds us, the Church building, the sacred space, is not the Church. The Church is more than a building, more than a space, the Church, my brothers and sisters is us. You and I, we must remember that we are the Church. The building is important, but without the gathering of the people there, it means little. The Church must go beyond the four walls of the building, the Church must not be limited by mere space. The work of the Church is to envelope the entire world, enfolding everything into the sacred space that is the Church. We gather in the Church building, our sacred space, to worship and celebrate. We leave the Church building to take the Church to the world.
Deacon John
Feast of the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica in Rome
Nov. 9, 2008

All Souls Day

2008-11-02T19:22:00.000-05:00

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

Death. A subject we would rather not think about. We know it is there, waiting for each of us, but it still isn’t something we like to think about. What happens when we die? That subject has haunted humanity since we were able to think, since we became self-aware and realized that this is our ultimate fate. This entire weekend is centered around death, around what happens to us when we die. Halloween, followed by All Saints Day, followed by today, All Souls Day. We remember those who have gone before us, honoring and asking for prayer from those who are with God, praying for those whose fate is, for us, uncertain. Indeed, we dedicate this entire month to remembrance of those gone before. We think about them, and we are forced to think about our own mortality. I must admit that I have spent a lot of this past year thinking about death. Nothing like being diagnosed with a life-threatening, incurable disease to get your attention. It compels you to think, to wonder and to pray. You hope to hear another word, survivor.
Survivor, one who has faced death and lived. Through the grace of God and the miracles of modern medicine, I can claim that title, survivor. My mortal life has been spared for now, but the ultimate question remains, what happens when this reprieve ends? Not just for me, but for all of us. What happens when our time finally runs out? By God’s grace we can all claim the title survivor. Jesus tells us in the Gospel reading that none of what God has given to Jesus will be lost. We, my sisters and brothers, have been given to Jesus, we belong to him and we will not be lost. Through our baptism in Christ we rise with Christ, We die with Christ, and conquer death with Christ. The risen Christ dies no more, death has no power over Christ. We have been given to Christ, we die with Christ, we rise with Christ, and death has no power over us. In Christ, we are survivors.

Deacon John
The Commemoration of All The Faithful Departed (All Souls Day)
Nov. 2, 2008

Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2008-10-26T16:00:00.001-04:00

Ex 22:20-26
1 Thes 1:5c-10
Mt 22:34-40
St. Augustine once said love God and do what you want. Before we decide we now have a license to do anything, we should examine just what is meant by that statement. How do you act toward someone you love? Let’s look at the relationships in our own lives. If you love your spouse, really love your spouse, how do you act toward them? If you are acting in love, your ultimate goal is to make your spouse happy. You do things to make them happy, sometimes even if you don’t want to. You do things to build them up, you do things to build up the relationship, to make it flourish. You do not do things to hurt your spouse, you do not do things to damage the relationship. When you act in love you try to make the relationship flourish. It is a relationship built not on rules, but on love. Love covers all the rules. Your relationship with you children will involve rules, rules you set. Those rules are, or should be based in love. We set rules, make limits for our children to help them, to help them grow into whole and happy people. Again, this is a relationship built not on rules, but on love. So it is in our relationship with God. God shares love with us, a love we then return to God, and a love we are called on to share with others, spouses, children, family, the world. We are to share what has been given us with everyone. In the first reading we heard how we are to act toward the widow, the orphan, the alien, the stranger. We are to share with them the love that God shares with us. We are called to act in love. When we can do that, when we are acting in love, when we are be-ing in love, then we may begin to understand what St. Augustine meant when he said love God, and do what you want.
Deacon John
Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Oct. 26, 2008

Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2008-10-21T12:01:00.002-04:00

I finally am back, feeling well enough to begin posting again on a regular basis. So far the cancer seems to be in remission, and over all I am doing fairly well. Thanks for your prayers.

Is 45:1, 4-6
1 Thes 1:1-5b
Mt 22:15-21

In Star Trek lore cadets in Star Fleet Academy were tested with a situation known as the Kobayshi Maru situation. The catch to this test was that there was no way to succeed. The cadet, assuming the role of commander of a star ship, was placed in a no win situation. No choice the cadet made would lead to a good outcome. Only one cadet, a certain James Kirk, defeated the test by reprogramming the scenario, giving him choices that allowed him to win in a no win situation. In today’s Gospel the Pharisees and Herodians seek to put Jesus in just such a no win situation. They approach Jesus with a question, a question they assume has no good answer. They ask Jesus if it is lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not. They believe they have Jesus trapped, because they see only two possible answers, neither of them good, at least not for the person giving the answer. If Jesus says it is lawful to pay the tax, they can condemn him as a tool of the Roman oppressors. If Jesus says that one should not pay the tax, he can be turned over to the authorities and most likely be put to death as an insurrectionist. The question, like the Kobayshi Maru scenario, seemingly had no right answer. Jesus, however, turned the situation upside down, and gave an answer the questioners never expected. Show me the coin for paying the tax. Whose image is on the coin? Caesar’s. Repay to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s. Let Caesar have the coin with his image on it, in the end what did it matter? Jesus called on those listening, and on us, to give to God that which has God’s image on it, us. In our lives we may face what appear to be no win situations. No situation is hopeless, however, when we simply give to God that which is God’s that which is in God’s image, ourselves. In my own experience I have been in that situation. Faced with a life threatening, incurable disease, no answer seems good, no answer seems right. In this situation giving up would have seemed to be the only choice. Yet, as I discovered, it was not. I had a better choice, I could, as James Kirk did, as Jesus did, change the situation so I could win. Giving myself to God, giving to God what ultimately belongs to God, was the answer. No matter the eventual outcome, by giving to God what is in God’s image, by giving to God that which is God’s, by giving myself, I win. All of us, in the thousand situations we face, the situations that seem hopeless, that seem to be no win, can win, when we simply give God what is God’s, when we give God ourselves.

Deacon John
Twenty-Ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Oct. 19, 2008

Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2008-08-18T11:20:00.002-04:00

It's a day late but...
Is 56:1, 6-7
Rom 11:13-15, 29-32
Mt 15:21-28

In an episode of the old television series M*A*S*H, Hawkeye pierce and his cronies are involved in a marathon poker game. The ever-present and ever-hungry Radar comes in to deliver a message and sees a tray of sandwiches on a table in the tent. “Are these sandwiches for anybody,” he asks. The weary poker players tell him to take all he wants, so he does. The readings today brought this scene to mind. In the Gospel Jesus and his disciples are followed by a Canaanite woman begging Jesus to drive a demon out of her daughter. Jesus, in a seemingly uncharacteristic manner, sharply rebukes her, much to the delight of his followers. They would just as soon this Gentile woman go away and stop bothering them and the Master. Doesn’t she realize that salvation belongs to the Chosen People alone? Jesus seems to agree with his followers when he says, “It is not right to take the food of the children and throw it to the dogs.” Jesus is however, making a point to his followers. The woman replies, “Please, Lord, for even the dogs eat the scraps that fall from the table of their masters.” Jesus then praises her faith and grants her request. Faith has saved her daughter and her as well. Jesus showed his followers that who you are is not what will bring you to God. Believing, having faith that is what one must have. We too often fall into that same trap, the belief that salvation belongs to us, not to anyone else. It is ours because of who we are. It is not possible for us to be any more wrong. We do not have favor with God simply by virtue of ethnicity, social status, denomination, or anything else. Faith is what we need. That faith, which is God’s gift to all of us, is what brings us into the reign of God. We must accept that gift, live it and believe it. We must also rejoice in the fact that that gift of faith is for all people. All people, all people, are the children of God. God excludes no one, how can we? Do we know better than God? No, of course we do not, we cannot. We must simply accept the gift given to us and understand that the sandwiches are indeed for anybody.
Deacon John
Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Aug. 17, 2008

This may be my last post for a few weeks. I will enter the hospital on Friday August 22 to begin a new phase in the treatment of my cancer, Multiple Myeloma. I will not be able to post, because I won't have access to a computer and I may simply be too sick. I am confident that this treatment will work, and ask that you peay for me as I pray for you.
St. Peregrine, Pray for us
Deacon John
Aug. 18, 2008

Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2008-08-09T15:51:00.001-04:00

1 Kgs 19:9a, 11-13a
Rom 9:1-5
Mt 14:22-33

Many people would argue that we, as human beings, are very much afraid of failure. We hate to fail, no doubt about it. Fear of failing can indeed keep us from trying things. I believe, however, that there is one thing we fear even more. Mare than being afraid of failure, we are afraid of success. If we succeed at something, anything, we suddenly find ourselves bearing the burden of expectation. We start to succeed, and suddenly people start to expect things from us. There’s no hiding, no running away, so our best defense against these expectations is to either fail, or not try at all. Jesus, having sent his disciples on ahead of him, begins to approach them walking on the water. Terrified, the disciples are sure it is a ghost. Jesus reassures them, saying it’s me, don’t be afraid. Peter calls to Jesus, “Lord, if it is you command me to come to you on the water.” Peter steps out of the boat and begins to walk to Jesus on the wave tops. Peter is fine until he realizes what he is doing, until he realizes he can’t walk on water, no one can. As sinks into the waves Jesus saves him and takes him to the boat. Jesus says to Peter, “Oh you of little faith, why did you doubt?” Peter was succeeding, doing well, until fear took over. His success ended when he forgot why he was succeeding at all. It was only in Jesus, in the help that Jesus gave, in the reliance on faith in Jesus, that Peter was successful. Jesus asks each of us to do but one thing, love. Love God, love our fellow human beings. This is not an easy task. We can, when we choose to be quite unlovable, and quite willing to not love. It can seem to be a lot like walking on water. We step out of the boat, start of pretty well, then realize what we are doing. I can’t do this. Why should I? Hardly anyone else seems to. So we start to sink, sink into the abyss of separation, of loneliness, of not loving or being loved, until we remember, remember that like Peter we can’t walk on this water alone. Faith in Jesus, reliance on God, these lift us up out of the swirling depths, into the boat, safe and secure in the love of Christ. Then, and only then, do we have a chance to overcome our fear of success.
Deacon John
Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Aug. 10, 2008

Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2008-08-04T20:58:00.001-04:00

Is 55:1-3
Rom 8:35, 37-39
Mt 14:13-21

If you have ever seriously cooked, you have come across the concept of developing a foundation of flavors. This is done by putting together small amounts of various ingredients, which together provide a deep, rich flavor for the dish you are preparing. The dish would most likely be fine if one of these ingredients was missing, but it wouldn’t be quite the same. The depth of flavor, the richness would be compromised. Take something as simple as an omelet. A lot of different things can be added, each changing the dish just a bit, each adding to the depth of the flavor, each giving the dish a richness it would otherwise lack. You could add onions to the omelet, giving the omelet a certain depth and richness. Without the onions it is still a fine omelet, but it is a better omelet with them.
Jesus went off in a futile attempt to be alone when he heard of the death of John the Baptizer. Crowds followed him, and stayed until it was late, too late for them to find food. The disciples of Jesus asked him to dismiss the crowds, send them off to find food. Jesus tells them to give them some food yourselves. I am sure they were a bit flabbergasted. Give them what food? All they had were five loaves of bread and two fish, barely enough to feed themselves. Jesus instructed them to bring him the loaves and the fish, and to have the crowd sit. Jesus blessed and broke the bread, then gave it to his disciples to distribute to the crowd. All ate and were satisfied, and there were twelve wicker baskets of food left over. Five loaves and two fish were more than enough to feed the crowd.
All of us, each one, has a gift that God has given us, a gift that we can share with the world, a gift that in some way makes the world a better place. Too often we are reluctant to share that gift, certain that we are inadequate, the gift is so small that it can’t matter. No one will notice if our gift is missing. The world will almost undoubtedly continue, with or without the contribution we can make. Yet like the onions in the omelet, it won’t be quite as good as it could have been. Our gift may seem to be small and inconsequential to us, but it is indispensable. Our gift adds to the depth and the richness of life, of the world. It doesn’t matter how small we think it is. It is enough to make a difference. How do I know? Jesus said give them some food yourselves. They gave him five loaves and two fish. He blessed them and gave them to the people, and there were twelve baskets of fragments left over.

Deacon John
Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Aug. 3, 2008

The Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2008-07-20T20:01:00.002-04:00

Wis 12:13, 16-19
Rom 8:26-27
Mt 13:24-43

A man has his fields planted with what he is sure is good wheat. Yet as the wheat begins to grow his servants see that weeds are growing among the wheat. Rather that trying to pull the weeds out, he chooses to allow the weeds to grow with the wheat, separating them at harvest time. This is a risky choice. Yes, pulling the weeds could damage the wheat should it unintentionally be pulled up as well. Allowing the weeds to grow runs the risk of having the wheat crop overwhelmed by the weeds. The weeds could suck the nutrients out of the soil, leaving little or nothing for the wheat. The weeds could proliferate to the point that the wheat is crowded out. The weeds could win, leaving the man with nothing for the weeds have no purpose. I am not a biologist and I am not an expert on the environment. I am certain that somewhere, in some context, these weeds have a purpose, a reason for being. In this context, however, the weeds have no purpose. They serve only to destroy the crop that was intended in the planting of the wheat. The world is much like this field. We are sown, and we are meant to flourish. We are meant to grow, to learn, to reach out to God, but we find ourselves surrounded by weeds. Weeds are all around us, and they can drain our life away, distracting us from our original purpose, overwhelming us, preventing us from flourishing as we are intended. The truly sad part is that too often, we begin to side with the weeds. We begin to see as acceptable that which is unacceptable. So, I fudged a little on my taxes, everybody does it. Why get married, it’s just a societal ritual, it doesn’t prove we love one another. Why should I help them, I got mine, go get your own. We rationalize our behavior, we find ways to justify our choices, we begin to become the weeds. We let the weeds steal our nutrition, we become overwhelmed by what is around us. It does not have to be this way. The weeds can pull us away, overwhelm us, only if we fail to remember who we are and who is with us. God provides us with the sustenance we need, God makes it possible for us to avoid being overwhelmed, but only if we turn to God, depend on God, realize that we will only find life in God. The weeds do not give life, they take it. God gives us life, protecting us from the weeds. But we must choose. Will we turn to God, or be pulled in by the weeds? Will we accept the eternal life that God offers us, or go with the weeds, a way that takes our life? Will we lead others by word and example to turn to life, to turn to God, or will we lead them into the weeds? Are we wheat, or are we weed?

Deacon John
Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
July 20, 2008

Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2008-07-06T20:25:00.001-04:00

Zec 9:9-10
Rom 8:9, 11-13
Mt 11:25-30

I believe in education. I believe that everyone should get all the education they possibly can. Education can open doors that otherwise stay shut. Certainly education can open doors to employment possibilities that otherwise would be unavailable to someone, but education is, or should be, more than that. Education should, hopefully, open doors in the mind, doors that can lead to a better understanding of the world, of the people who inhabit the world, and, most importantly, a better understanding of yourself. I believe in education. I have an advanced degree myself. I believe in education. Yet, I have to admit that education is not, in and of itself, the most important thing. Those of us with education have a tendency to make things complicated. Some things are complicated, not easily explained or understood. Some things, however, are not. We make them complicated even though they are actually quite simple. We make our faith complex, with all manner of theological ideas, explanations, theories, and rules based on them. If we stand back and look, our faith is really quite simple. The most basic statement of our faith is Jesus Christ is Lord. As Lord the Christ calls on us to do one thing, love. Love God with our whole heart, soul, mind and being, and to love our neighbor as we love ourselves. That’s it. It really is that simple. It doesn’t require a PhD to understand these (I hesitate to use this word, but) fundamentals of our faith. I think that sometimes the education can even get in the way. Jesus tells us in the Gospel that “for although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned you have revealed them to little ones.” We are called to believe, and because of that belief, we are called to love. That is why the Christ also tells us “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.” Believe and love. It really is that simple.

Deacon John
Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
July 6, 2008

Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul

2008-06-29T20:37:00.001-04:00

Acts 12:1-11
2 Tm 4:6-8, 17-18
Mt 16:13-19

Ordinary people called to do the extraordinary. That is what all of us are. Ordinary people called to do the extraordinary. Just look at the example of the two men whose lives we celebrate today, St. Peter and St. Paul. Ordinary men. Unexceptional in many ways. Peter was a simple fishermen. I doubt that he was highly educated, just a rough, unsophisticated working man. Yet look at the work that God accomplished through this simple man. When Jesus asked who do people say that I am, this simple fisherman had the answer. When facing persecution he did not flinch or back away from the truth, he stood by the Christ, spreading the Gospel, despite the cost. An ordinary man doing the extraordinary. St. Paul, on the other hand was educated, a Pharisee, familiar with the law. Yet even this Pharisee was an ordinary working man, a tentmaker by trade, a trade he continued to practice even as he worked fearlessly to spread the Good News throughout the world, even to the Gentiles. St. Peter and St. Paul, giants among the earliest followers of Jesus. Together they did much to make the name of Christ known to the world. As extraordinary as they were, as extraordinary as their lives were, the single most exceptional thing they did was to love. They accepted the love of Christ, then shared that infinite love with the world around them. Love is what made them extraordinary. Ordinary people called to do the extraordinary, in and through love. And that my brothers and sisters is what we are called to as well. We are called to accept the infinite love of God and in turn give that love to the world. In that sharing of God’s love we become ordinary people doing the extraordinary.

Deacon John
Solemnity of Sts. Peter and Paul, Apostles
June 29, 2008

Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2008-06-22T19:28:00.000-04:00

Jer 20:10-13
Rom 5:12-15
Mt 10:26-33

Why is it that we seem to like to hide so much? Things are kept concealed, hidden away from others, sometimes even from ourselves. What are we so afraid of? Being open does make us vulnerable, but is that necessarily a bad thing, something to be frightened of? Are we so afraid of the possibility of being hurt because of our openness that we shut down, that we hide, that we compartmentalize our lives? We do compartmentalize, everything has a place, work, home, family, friends, faith. All kept separate, all apart, none having much if anything to do with the other, particularly faith. The very thing that should inform our lives, that should have the greatest impact on us, is the part we too often bury the deepest. We leave faith to Church on Sunday. Maybe we feel safer in a group, the anonymity of the crowd. We’re around people who agree with us, so far as we know, so we have no reason to fear. The truth is we have no reason to fear anyway. Christ tells us, fear no one. What is hidden will be revealed. There’s no point in hiding our faith. Since there’s no point in hiding it, let’s shout it from the rooftops, bring it into the light. The worst consequence we seem to fear turns out to be …nothing. Proclaiming our faith in Christ is not something to hide or fear, or put into a compartment separate from the rest of our lives. Rather it is a privilege, even a joy, for as we proclaim our faith, we just may help someone else find theirs.
Deacon John
Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary time
June 22, 2008

Tenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2008-06-08T19:52:00.001-04:00

Hos 6:3-6
Rom 4:18-25
Mt 9:9-13

“Go and learn the meaning of the words, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice’”
“for it is love that I desire, not sacrifice”
Perhaps we do need to learn the meaning of sacrifice. What does it mean to sacrifice? A sacrifice can be an offering, something given up for the sake of something else. We sacrifice things all of the time. We give up that piece of cake for the sake of our weight. We sacrifice buying that new car to save the money it would cost. These are certainly sacrifices, but in some way selfish sacrifices. In the Gospel Jesus calls Matthew, and Matthew follows. This is certainly a sacrifice on Matthew’s part, and not a selfish one. Matthew’s sacrifice is a sacrifice given up for something else. Yet later, in Matthew’s house, Jesus tells the Pharisees to learn the meaning of the words I desire mercy, not sacrifice, much as Hosea told the people God desires love, not sacrifice. Ah, love. There is the key. Love, love that leads to mercy, love that leads to sacrifice for the sake of another, for the sake of love. We “sacrifice” all of the time, but do we sacrifice for the sake of love? What are we willing to sacrifice to show love, for love, for another? It is only in love that sacrifice has any meaning, any value. After all we are gathered here today for a sacrifice. But it is not our sacrifice. We sacrifice nothing, yet we gain everything. The sacrifice we celebrate is given for us, given through God’s mercy, given because of infinite love. The word sacrifice can be interpreted as doing something sacred, to offer something to God. The sacrifice we celebrate today certainly is a sacred act, an act that makes us holy, an act that is possible only because of infinite love. Love that is given to us, love that we now are called upon to give to the world, “for it is love that I desire…”
Deacon John
Tenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
June 8, 2008

The Ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2008-06-01T21:42:00.003-04:00

Dt 11:18, 26-28, 32
Rom 3:21-25, 28
Mt 7:21-27

Tefillin, or phylacteries, are leather boxes containing particular passages from Scripture that some devout Jewish people strap to their foreheads and arms during morning prayer. The purpose of the phylacteries are to serve as a reminder that they are to be dedicated to God in whatever they do, feel or think. The phylacteries, in and of themselves, have no power, they cannot save the person wearing them, they simply serve as a reminder, a reminder of the rock of God on which the house of faith is built.

They may appear strange to us, but as Catholics we have our own version of these devotional items, things we refer to as Sacramentals. Scapulars, medals, other items we may wear, some we use but do not carry, like Holy Water. Again, these items are meant to simply serve as a reminder of who we are, of what we believe. They are designed to draw us to God, to assist us in our devotions, to be, hopefully, a constant reminder of who we are, of what we believe. In and of themselves these items have no power to save us. We may carry the words of God close to our minds and hearts, we may wear our scapulars and medals, but they are just reminders. They exist to draw us to the Rock, the rock of safety, the Rock of faith, the Rock that is our God. We must do more than carry these devotions on our bodies, we must carry them in our hearts and in our souls. We must hear the words and act on them. Only then have we set the foundation of our house of faith on rock, on solid ground. Only then have we placed our faith in the Rock, built our faith on the Rock, safe from wind and storm.

Deacon John
Ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time
June 1, 2008

The Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ

2008-05-25T21:50:00.002-04:00

Dt 8:2-3, 14b-16a

1 Cor 10:16-17
Jn 6:51-58

Manna from heaven. Over time that phrase has been adopted into our language, used in ordinary speech to describe a gift, an unexpected gift, and perhaps even an undeserved gift. Good fortune falls upon you, things break your way, what you needed to have happen happens, all are at times in popular culture described as manna from heaven. In the first reading today the original manna was indeed just such a fortuitous gift. Wandering and starving in the desert, the children of God are saved by God’s gift of bread, manna from heaven. A life saving gift, a life giving gift, God’s grace poured out upon God’s people. Yet, as Moses reminded the people, life requires more than bread alone, one needs the word of God. More than bread saved them, bread from heaven saved them.
“Jesus said to the Jewish crowds: ‘I am the living bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread I will give is my flesh for the life of the world.’”
Manna gave the people of Israel physical sustenance. Food necessary for the survival of the body. A gift from God, a gift that gave life. More than bread is needed to live, however, and that gift comes to us from God as well, the gift of God’s Word. The Word comes to us, bringing the gift of life, the gift of eternal life, if we but partake of the gift that the Word gives us. The Word comes to us as the true bread from heaven. The Word comes to us as food, true food, that gives physical life. The Word comes to us as food, true food, that gives life to our souls. Through the Word we have life, full life, physical life, spiritual life, human life. We are after all both, physical and spiritual, flesh and spirit, body and soul. It is what makes us human, and that human life is sustained by the Word of God, the Word made flesh, the Word given to us as food, feeding our bodies, feeding our souls, our true manna from heaven.

Deacon John
The Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ
May 25, 2008

The Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity

2008-05-18T21:04:00.000-04:00

Ex 34:4b-6, 8-9
2 Cor 13:11-13
Jn 3:16-18

“God so loved the world…” God indeed so loves the world, with a love that we creatures cannot even begin to comprehend. The love that God has for us is so overwhelmingly vast that our poor minds aren’t able to even begin to wrap around it. It is a love that brings us into existence, a love that sustains us, a love that saves us from ourselves. God’s love is so powerful, so vast, it cannot be contained. At the end of the day God’s love for us is a mystery, a mystery we can never comprehend. The expression of that love to us is made manifest in the Trinity, the love of God expressed as Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier. Three divine Persons, yet only One God. How can this be? How can this be, how is it possible that there be one God, yet three persons? Ah, another mystery. We search for ways to grasp this mystery, but anything we can conceive of by definition falls short. The most famous attempt at explanation, I suppose, is the one attributed to St. Patrick, the shamrock, a plant with three leaves, yet only one plant. A nice enough try, but not quite enough. I have heard water used, water in different states, ocean, river, lake, all different, yet all water. Or water as solid ice, liquid or gaseous steam. All different, yet all still water. Nothing can bring us to understanding. Our only recourse is faith. God loves us with a love so vast that we see that love expressed in the Trinity, in a divine community of love, the community of Creator, Redeemer and Sanctifier. The love emanating from this Divine Community, calls to us, calls to us with invitation, a call for us to join, to share, to be a part of that Community of total love. This is perhaps the greatest mystery of all. No matter who we are, no matter what we may think we have done to escape God’s vast and glorious love, God still calls us, still wants us, still desires that we be a part of this glorious love. God creates us, saves us, makes us holy, all so we may be a part of God’s love, a member of that Community of Unity, because, “God so loved the world…”

Deacon John
The Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity
May 18, 2008

Ascension of the Lord

2008-05-04T20:33:00.000-04:00

Acts 1:1-11
Eph 1:17-23
Mt 28:16-20

Confused. They had to be confused. The followers of Jesus must have stood there on that mountain, thoroughly and completely perplexed. Jesus gives them their instructions, to go forth and make disciples of all nations and to baptize them in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Then he says, “And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age.” Then he leaves! He ascends into the heavens until the clouds remove him from sight. They must have wondered, as they stared into the sky, how can he be with them always, he just left! I’m just not sure if they got what Jesus meant when he told them the Holy Spirit would come to them. I’m not sure they understood that the Spirit would enable them to be Christ’s witnesses to the world. I’m not sure they realized that Christ would indeed be with them, through the Spirit sent to guide them, to give them understanding, and strength. They did as Jesus asked and returned to Jerusalem to wait. I’m just not sure they got it. I’m sure they much would have preferred that Jesus not leave at all. They simply didn’t understand. I’m not sure we understand either, and we really don’t have any excuses. For the first followers of Jesus, at least this was all new. It is not for us. We know what we are called to do. We know that we are to be Christ’s witnesses in the world. We know that we are called to love, everyone, the lovable and the unlovable alike. We have the Spirit those early followers were waiting for, yet we hide, as they did, as though we have no help available to us to follow our call. Perhaps we are frightened, or too much concerned with what the world will think of us. The world beckons, calling us to return evil for evil, not good for evil as we are called to do. We are indeed called to be counter-cultural, to go against the popular wisdom, to instead listen to the call of Christ. Following Christ is a way of life, a way of being. It is not a popularity contest. Yet when we struggle to really live our faith, we find that we may attract more people than we think. One of the most popular, and well-loved people of our time is Mother Teresa, a person who was certainly not in line with modern culture. Yet people are fascinated by her. For some it is mere curiosity, but for others it is a demonstration that life can be different. Can we all be Mother Teresa? Perhaps not. But we can all listen to the one who called her, for we all have that same Spirit that guided her. It’s time to get ready and leave the room.

Deacon John
The Ascension of the Lord
May 4, 2008

Sixth Sunday of Easter

2008-04-27T20:46:00.000-04:00

Acts 8:5-8, 14-17
1 Pt 3:15-18
Jn 14:15-21

Most things in life, in order to be done well, require preparation. In order to construct a building, you must first have a plan. You have to know what the building will look like, and how it will be constructed. Materials must be gathered, put in place, and made ready so construction can proceed smoothly. There is a similar concept in cooking it is called mis en place, a French term meaning everything in its place. All the ingredients for a dish are gathered, chopped, measured, and laid out so that when you begin to cook, the process will go smoothly. In the Gospel reading today we find Jesus engaging in a bit of mis en place. Jesus is planning, setting the groundwork for the coming of a new Advocate, the Spirit of truth, who will remain with the followers of Jesus, guiding them, assuring them that they are not, and never will be alone. Jesus is laying the foundation for the Church, a Church asked to follow the commandment of Jesus, to love God and neighbor, a Church that will always have help in living that commandment. In the first reading we see this plan in action. Phillip proclaims Christ to the Samaritans, doing great works and bringing many to Christ. The people of Samaria had been baptized, but had yet to receive the Spirit. Peter and John go to Samaria, pray for these new ingredients of the Church, and the Spirit comes to them. Just as Jesus had planned, the Spirit, the Advocate, came to these new members of the Body of Christ, so they too would never be alone. This plan worked then, and has worked throughout time. We hear the call of Jesus, we turn to Christ, we believe in Christ’s message of love, and that same Spirit, that same Advocate, comes to us, to teach, to guide, to strengthen, to help us live the commandment of love. We are not ever alone, we are not orphans, abandoned to our fate. There is for us an Advocate, who dwells with us, teaches us, and loves us, so we may love.

Deacon John
Sixth Sunday of Easter
April 27, 2008

Fifth Sunday of Easter

2008-04-21T13:09:00.001-04:00

Acts 6:1-7
1 Pt 2:4-9
Jn 14:1-12

We tend to think that divisions in the Church are something new, a product of our own time. Yet in reading the First Reading from Acts we discover that divisions in the Church go back to the very beginning, to the very first followers of Christ. The Hellenists complained that their widows were being slighted by the Hebrews in the daily distribution of food. The Twelve were compelled to remedy this situation. Their solution was to appoint seven men of good character to oversee this distribution and ensure that it was done fairly. These seven, Stephen, Phillip, Timon, Nicanor, Parmenas, Prochorus, and Nicholas of Antioch have come to be known to us as the first deacons of the Church, devoted to service of the People of God. This order, recently revived, exists to serve the needs of the Church. It is not, however, the sole province of this Order of Deacons to serve the Church. All the baptized are called to this service. Each Christian is called to service, for it is in service that we live our faith. I find it quite interesting that the Twelve chose seven men to serve. Why seven? Why not five or eight, or twelve? The number seven keeps coming up in different places, a number of significance. Seven seals, seven sacraments, forgive your brother’s offenses 70 times seven, all very meaningful, all involving seven. Seven was once thought to be the number of spiritual perfection. So the choice of seven men to serve was certainly not accidental. The seven chosen then, and those today are called to demonstrate to all members of the Church the importance of service. These seven were called to serve, to show that the Church reaches toward perfection in serving. As each of us comes to follow their example, as each of us serves others, we bring the Church just that much closer to where it should be. We serve and bring the reign of God closer to reality.
Deacon John
Fifth Sunday of Easter
April 20, 2008

Fourth Sunday of Easter

2008-04-13T21:37:00.000-04:00

Acts 2:14a, 36-41
1 Pt 2:20b-25
Jn 10:1-10

I have to tell you, I’m not so sure that I like idea of being a sheep. After all if the Lord is my Shepherd that means that I must be a sheep. Now I must admit up front, being a 21st century, urban-dwelling American, I don’t know a lot about sheep. But the popular impression that is out there, the impression that most of us have, is that sheep are, well that they are dumb, not real bright, dim, mindless. You get the picture. I don’t want to be considered any of those things. I am, after all, a reasonably intelligent human being, capable of thought, capable of reasoning, capable of making decisions for myself. Why would I want to be a sheep? After reading today’s Gospel, however, I wonder if the popular perception of sheep is a misperception. Jesus says to the Pharisees I am the gate, I am the way for the sheep to enter and to find pasture. The sheep did not listen to those who came before, rather they heard the voice of Jesus and followed, and in following found life more abundantly. These sheep aren’t dumb, they learned. They listened, and they recognized and they learned the way to go, the way that led to life. They weren’t mindless at all. For us to follow Jesus is not an exercise in mindlessness. We are not the popular perception of sheep, bleating and following without thought. We must listen, we must learn, we must hear the voice of Jesus, we must study what Jesus says so that we can make an informed decision to follow. Believing in God, following the Christ isn’t about closing your eyes and your mind and following blindly. Believing is about learning, learning the voice of the Christ. Believing is about understanding, finding the way, finding the gate, the gate that leads to what Jesus brings us, life, life more abundant than we can know.

Deacon John
Fourth Sunday of Easter, Good Shepherd Sunday
April 13, 2008

Third Sunday of Easter

2008-04-07T18:33:00.001-04:00

Acts 2:14, 22-33
1 Pt 1:17-21
Lk 24:13-35

Were not our hearts burning within us? Two disciples of Jesus were walking from Jerusalem to Emmaus, when they encounter a man who seems to be oblivious to the events of the past three days, of the crucifixion of Jesus. Yet this stranger admonishes these two disciples for being slow to believe what the prophets spoke. He then recounts all the prophecies regarding the Messiah, explaining all of it to them. On reaching their destination this stranger remains with them, and they recognize him in the breaking of the bread. They rush back to Jerusalem to tell the others what had occurred. They rushed back because their hearts were burning within them. They heard the word of God, from the Word of God, and their hearts burned with in them with the need to tell someone what they now understood. But they didn’t understand or recognize the Word until Christ broke the bread, the bread that is Christ. Once they saw, and heard, and recognized, their hearts burned with the need to tell someone, to make known what they now knew. Do our hearts burn with in us? We hear the word of God, and we recognize the Word of God in the Scriptures we hear. We know that the Word is present in those words. We see the breaking of the bread. Do we see, do we recognize Christ in the breaking of the bread? Christ is here, present in the word, made manifest to us in the breaking of the bread. Do we recognize Christ, do we hear the words of Scripture? If we truly hear the Word, if we see Christ in the breaking of the bread, how can we remain silent? How can we not burn with the need to tell everyone of the Christ, and what Christ has done for us. Should not our hearts burn within us?

Deacon John
Third Sunday of Easter
April 6, 2008

Second Sunday of Easter

2008-03-31T21:59:00.000-04:00

Acts 2:42-47
1 Pt 1:3-9
Jn 20:19-31

I will not believe. Unless I put my finger in the nail marks and put my hand into his side, I will not believe. Thus declared Thomas after being told by the others that hey had seen Jesus and he was alive. Thomas simply stated I will not believe. So the next week as the disciples of the Lord were gathered Jesus appeared to them again. This time Thomas was among therm. Jesus called to Thomas and said here, look at the nail marks, place your finger in them, place your hand in my side and do not be unbelieving, but believe. Thomas looked at Jesus and simply said, “My Lord and My God!” If we read the scripture carefully, Thomas looks at Jesus and believes, he never actually touches him. Seeing, apparently, proved to be enough. Jesus says blessed are those who have not seen and believe. That would seem to include you and I, but in many ways we have seen Christ. When we see a person in need of our help, we are seeing Christ. When we see a person mourning, we see Christ. When we a person filled with joy, we see Christ. Everywhere we look, Christ is there. We can see Jesus, if we open our eyes, if we have faith. When we celebrate the Eucharist, we see Christ, in the assembly, in the words scripture, and most especially in the bread broken for us, in the cup shared by us. We see Christ and we touch Christ, in a more profound way than we can ever comprehend. We see Christ here, in this sacrament, we touch Christ here in this sacrament, so that we may see Christ there, touch Christ there, in the world around us. We see Christ here, we touch Christ here, so we may look around and proclaim My Lord and My God.

Deacon John
The Second Sunday of Easter
March 30, 2008

Easter

2008-03-23T21:27:00.000-04:00

Christ is Risen! Alleluia!!
Mt 28:1-10

He is not here. What an astonishing thing to hear. Come and see the place where he lay. To see the tomb, empty, must have been an awe-filling, frightening experience. How would any of us have reacted to this? I’m, not certain, but running away in total fear seems like a good idea. Yet Mary Magdalene and the other Mary did not run in fear. They ran, and they were certainly fearful, but they ran joyfully to tell the others what had just happened. On their way they met Christ, the Risen Christ, whose first words to them were, “Do not be afraid.” He sent them to tell the others to meet in Galilee.
He is not here. In a great many ways it would have been easier if he were there. That would have conformed to what was expected, they would have known how to react. Everyone has lost someone, everyone can mourn. But Christ wasn’t there, the tomb was empty, and they weren’t sure how to react. The world as they understood it no longer existed. They needed reassurance, they needed to hear those words, do not be afraid. Jesus wasn’t where he was supposed to be, he was where he needed to be.
As we go about, living our lives, we do the things we must, and often we take our faith, we take Christ, and place him inside a nice little box with a very secure lid. Once in a while, maybe on Sunday, we open the box to peek in, to make sure that he is still there, and that all is right with the world as we think it should be. Until we come to today. We open the box to check in and discover he’s gone, he is not there. How can this be? We had everything arranged perfectly, each part of our lives in its own box, everything where it should be, and now this. Looking again, we realize that someone has been moving things around in the other boxes. What is going on here? I had it all the way I wanted it, and now it’s all confused. Not sure where to turn, not sure what to do we look again at the boxes and realize that maybe some of these changes aren’t that bad, they may even be an improvement. Then we see him, we hear the assuring words, do not be afraid. Slowly we come to understand that he is not there, in that box. Christ is not where we want him to be, Christ is where we need him to be.

Deacon John
Easter
March 23, 2008

Good Friday

2008-03-21T21:37:00.000-04:00

Is 52:13—53:12
Heb 4:14-16; 5:7-9
Jn 18:1—19:42
A man is betrayed by a friend, a trusted companion. He is taken away and put before the religious authorities and then the civil authorities. His situation is without much hope. The authorities are determined to find a way to execute this man. His friends run away in fear, and this man is left alone to face his fate. No one is willing to help as he is given up to an excruciating death. A story that is indeed the stuff of tragedy. Yet this story, as we listen to it, doesn’t seem tragic at all. This man faces his fate with uncommon dignity, indeed, with a touch of triumph. The Christ is not a tragic figure here. As the mob comes to seize him in the Garden, and they ask for Jesus of Nazareth, he replies, I AM. A bold statement, a claim to the name given to Moses when he asked the identity of the power behind the burning bush. A statement that Christ will not turn away, but accept the fate he knows awaits him. At each turn, in front of the high priest, in front of Pilate, Jesus faces what is coming. His seemingly inexorable movement toward death is not a tragedy, but more a triumphal procession. Christ knows where he is going and goes there willingly. This is not to diminish the pain that lay before him. He knew what was to come, he lived under Roman rule, he had undoubtedly seen crucifixions before. He knew what awaited him, a horrific, painful death. In any circumstances, a tragic end. But my brothers and sisters this is not tragedy. Indeed it is triumph of the highest order. Despite knowing what was to come, despite the suffering he faced, despite the horrible death, he went forward. He went forward to triumph, for you and for me. He triumphed that we might triumph. This story is not about death, but life, life given for us, life given to us. This is a story of life, triumph and glory. Do you want life? Look to the top of the Hill. Do you want to see real triumph, true glory? Look, there it is on that cross.
Deacon John
Good Friday
March 21, 2008

Passion Sunday

2008-03-16T21:12:00.001-04:00

Is 50:4-7
Phil 2:6-11
Mt 26:14—27:66 or 27:11-54

The Passion of Our Lord, Jesus Christ. How are you supposed to follow that? I suppose it can be seen in one of two ways. After hearing the Passion, what’s left to say? Or, there is so much to say where can one possibly begin or end? What I choose to do is look at two specific areas. First, when Pilate realizes he is getting nowhere with the crowd and must give Jesus up to crucifixion, he washes his hands of the blood of Jesus, whom he regards as innocent. The people reply, “His blood be upon us and upon our children.” For too many years this has been used as an indictment of certain people, blaming them for the death of Christ. How foolish of anyone to see this in that way. The passage says the whole people cried out “His blood be upon us and upon our children.” That whole people, and those children to come later are us, every single person who ever has or ever will live. The Christ died for our sins, yours, mine, everyone’s. As sinners we are responsible for the death of the Christ, our sins put Jesus on that cross. We all share in the death of Christ. We are all responsible.
Second, just before dying, Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?”which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” It sounds like a cry of utter despair, but it is not. This cry is the beginning of Psalm 22, which, in my Bible at least, is titled The Prayer of An Innocent Person. The beginning sounds like despair, but the Psalm ends in great hope. Verse 25 says, “For God has not spurned or disdained the misery of this poor wretch, Did not turn away from me, but heard me when I cried out.” The final verse says, “The generation to come will be told of the Lord, that they may proclaim to a people yet unborn the deliverance you have brought.” Hope, the Psalm ends with hope. Jesus was undoubtedly familiar with this Psalm. He spoke the beginning, but he knew the end. Surely many who heard him knew what he was quoting, and they also realized how the Psalm ends, not in despair or anguish, but in hope, that those to come would know of the deliverance that was theirs, brought through Christ.

Deacon John
Palm Sunday
March 16, 2008

Fifth Sunday of Lent

2008-03-09T20:56:00.001-04:00

Ez 37:12-14
Rom 8:8-11
Jn 11:1-45

Darkness, stillness, quiet. Everything is peaceful, but everything is dark. Shrouded in darkness he lay there, serene, quiet, but dark. Suddenly there’s a blinding flash of light. The darkness is cleaved by a light that he had never seen before, brilliant, blinding, filling all space. Then he hears a call in the distance, breaking the still and quiet that he was growing accustomed to. He hears the call again then realizes that someone is calling his name. He struggles into the light, hearing a voice, the voice, cry, “Lazarus, come out.” He struggles farther into the light until he hears the voice say, “untie him and let him go.” Suddenly Lazarus finds himself free from the bonds of death, free to live again, free of the tomb. How disorienting for him must this have been! Pulled into the light by Christ, pulled into the light of Christ, Lazarus once again walks among the living. I wonder how he approached this new life, surely he was grateful, hopefully he appreciated not only being alive again, but life itself. He must have seen things differently. He must have appreciated the light.
We share much in common with Lazarus, for we too find ourselves shrouded in darkness, a darkness of our own making. We find ourselves entombed by our selfishness. We find ourselves entombed by our sinfulness. We find ourselves entombed by our failure to love. We live in the darkness, a darkness that we have grown accustomed to. We stumble along, shrouded in the dark, not really living. We remain in the tomb of our own construction, a tomb built from our failure to love as God has asked us to love. We hide in that dark sanctuary, fearful of what may be outside. It does not have to be this way. We too, have a chance at a new life, a life more full and more meaningful than we have known before. All we need do is look up, see the blinding flash of light, the brilliance that fills all space. There is no need for fear. Move into the light and hear a voice, the voice, calling to you, “Lazarus, come out.”

Deacon John
Fifth Sunday of Lent
March 9, 2008

Fourth Sunday of Lent

2008-03-02T20:35:00.001-05:00

1 Sm 16:1b, 6-7, 10-13a
Eph 5:8-14
Jn 9:1-41

Blind, unable to see. Trapped in darkness. How difficult must it be now to be blind, how much more so in the time that Jesus walked the earth. The man born blind that Jesus encountered must have had a difficult life indeed. Not only did he carry the burden of blindness, he carried the presumption by others that he was this way because of some sin. He was born in sin, so God punished him by allowing him to be born blind. He lived in a world of darkness, darkness that other saw as doubly dark, the physical darkness of blindness, and the spiritual darkness of the sin that caused his blindness. Yet through this blind man the works of God would be made manifest to the world. Jesus puts a paste of clay and saliva on his eyes, sends him to wash in the pool of Siloam, and gives him the gift of sight. This man who lived in darkness suddenly lives in light, light made possible by the grace of the Christ. This change is hard for some to grasp, even unacceptable to some. Some refused to see the light given to this man by Christ, some found it unacceptable. Who was more blind?
Blind, unable to see. Trapped in darkness. That is a fairly good description of you and I. We sin, yet we do not see. We cannot, will not, believe that we are in darkness, we fail to understand that we do indeed live in the dark. Yet there is no reason for us to live in this darkness. The grace of the Christ is for us eye opening. Through Christ we can suddenly see, finding light where once all was dark. We cannot see until we allow the grace of Christ Jesus to touch our lives, to open our eyes, to bring us into the light. Too often we seem to prefer the dark, to prefer the blindness of our sin. We have the ability to see, to cease being blind, if only we accept God’s gift. We could see, but we turn away. Embrace the light, escape the dark, accept the gift of light granted by Christ. Too often we refuse to see the light granted us by Christ. Who could be more blind?

Deacon John
Fourth Sunday of Lent
March 2, 2008

Second Sunday of Lent

2008-02-17T19:52:00.002-05:00

Gn 12:1-4a
2 Tm 1:8b-10
Mt 17:1-9

To come face to face with the Glory of God. To see God as God is. How awe-full, how frightening. Seeing God as God is, this just isn’t something that we mere mortals are ready for. We simply are not ready to handle such glory, yet. But is that not our ultimate goal? To see God face to face? To see God as God truly is? Some will teach that Heaven is sharing in that beatific vision. Peter, James and John get the opportunity to catch just the merest glimpse of that vision and find themselves terrified, prostrate on the ground. Jesus takes them to the mountain top, and there Jesus is changed, transfigured before their undoubtedly amazed eyes. His face shone like the sun and his clothes became white as light. As if all of this weren’t frightening enough, Moses and Elijah appear and speak to the transfigured Christ. To top everything off and really do in our intrepid trio, a bright cloud overshadows them from which comes a voice proclaiming, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.” They fall to the ground, no longer looking at anything, I am sure. Then the Christ touches them, and assures them, rise, and do not be afraid. Do not be afraid. Easier said than done, perhaps. But, in all honesty, why should they have been afraid, and why should we? This is our goal, this is what we seek, to be with God, to see God as God is, to see the real glory that is our salvation. Seeing God as God is not reason to fear, but reason to celebrate! This is what we want, it is that we just aren’t quite ready yet. We need first to do what is asked by the voice coming from the cloud, listen to Him, listen to the Christ. Listening, then acting on what we hear, that will make us ready, one day, ready to bask in the transfigured glory of the Christ, ready to see God as God is, and know that we are home.

Deacon John
Second Sunday of Lent
Feb. 17, 2007