Another one of Fr. Dennis' ultra catholic websites

Go to gloria.tv and watch a couple dozen videos. It'll make you happy to be Roman and Catholic.

Shell shock?

Okay, so I don't really have shell shock but this week has been weird. I know it doesn't show through in my posts on this blog. I mean, I had what I thought was a rather poor homily this weekend so I didn't want to publish it here. But, I've had two days of very little to do. And it looks like that's going to keep happening. I'm tempted to start celebrating surviving yet another school year but I'm terrified because there are still six weeks left! And, I've been consistently putting in long days for the last couple of months. I'm afraid I'm just in a weird week that will eventually end and I'll be running ragged again next week. I keep looking over my day planner to find out what's next. Yikes!

The good thing is that, for today, I'm relaxed.

One day a week to sleep in

As a priest, I get one day for sabbath rest. Like many priests, my day is Monday. I decided last night that I wasn't going to set the alarm because I have been exhausted. I slept until 11:30. Wow! We should all do that every once in a while. It's amazing how different...how better the world looks when you get enough sleep.

Did you hear about this?

Apparently, according to some idiots in Chicago, a bishop who met with President Bush and the governor of Illinois is culpable for Iraqi's having their religious experiences being ruined.

You can read about it here.

The Pope and the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, of which Cardinal George is the leader, have decried the war from it's beginning. Now you know how people can blame Pope Pius XII for World War II.

A few thoughts about Reverend Wright

Let me state what this post is not: It is not an endorsement or detraction of Senator Barak Obama nor am I trying to justify the particular remarks of Reverend Wright. I haven't done enough research to know much more than the infamous "God damn America" statement.

But, part of my job as a minister is to challenge my people. This past Sunday I made the statement to the effect of, "Madmen from half a world away advocate murder to zealous followers simply because we are Christian." Yeah, yeah...I know. I varied from the text I published. That statement made people feel uncomfortable and one person even was uncomfortable enough to come up and complain. If I have to be worried that my message could be used against a political candidate or if every candidate has to avoid controversial political figures, it's just going to emphasize the idea people have that there needs to be a strict separation between church and state, as though society is better if politicians are uninfluenced by religion. Religion challenges us to live with transcendent ends in mind. And, religion should be an entity that humbles a country. No country is perfect and no one, not even Rush Limbaugh, can truly believe we are perfect. Christianity, in particular, needs to be reminded and remind others of slavery and racism. We need to remind people that all people should be treated with dignity and respect but not all actions are moral even if they are "natural." When politicians are only supposed to be exposed to "safe" messages about everybody getting along and everything is all right then religion has truly lost all meaning and we've managed to become the madmen of Nietzsche's myth ranting about the death of God who we have killed.

Easter Sunday: Spe Salvi part 3 In Hope we were saved

Dear Beloved in Christ

This past November, Pope Benedict XVI released his second encyclical entitled “Spe Salvi.” This encyclical, based on hope, has guided my reflections for much of lent and I was able to share some of the substance of that reflection (here) with the people of Sts. Peter and Paul in Gilbert during the Holy Thursday and Good Friday liturgies. I couldn’t help but notice a rather obvious connection with today’s readings and this much needed encyclical on hope. Both today’s gospel and first reading invite us into an encounter with the living Christ, the one who is truly risen from death, belief in God isn’t merely following a set of prescribed rules and procedures or memorizing a book but is closer to introducing ourselves and getting to know a person. Being without Christ and, therefore, without hope, is the biblical statement of being without God. So, as Christians, it is our responsibility to reach out to others in hope so that they may have an eternal reward. This is what gives our present meaning, after all; knowing that our future is certain as a positive reality. This is why the gospel is not just an intellectual exercise but something that should move our heart. Pope Benedict uses an expression to describe what this type of faith should involve. He says the gospel is “not only ‘informative’ but ‘performative.’ “That means: the gospel is not merely a communication of things that can be known – it is one that makes things happen and is life changing.”

The point the Pope is making is very significant. He is saying that, even though salvation was done solely through the activity of Jesus Christ on the cross, that salvation is dead if it does not move us from being informative to performative, from passive followers to active witnesses. It needs to affect us each day of our lives and the way this evangelical hope affects us is by assuring us of redemption in coming to know God through Christ and compelling us to reach out to others to help them come to know him as well.

To illustrate this point, I’d like to quote, in full, the Pope’s description of the life of someone who found hope in the midst of what was, otherwise, a horrific life.

“St. Josephine Bakhita was canonized by Pope John Paul II. She was born around 1869 in Darfur in Sudan. At the age of nine, she was kidnapped by slave-traders, beaten till she bled, and sold five times in the slave-markets of Sudan. Eventually she found herself working as a slave for the mother and the wife of a general, and there she was flogged every day till she bled; as a result of this she bore 144 scars throughout her life. Finally, in 1882, she was bought by an Italian merchant, who eventually returned to Italy. Here, after the terrifying “masters” who had owned her up to that point, Bakhita came to know a totally different kind of “master”—in Venetian dialect, which she was now learning, she used the name “paron” for the living God, the God of Jesus Christ. Up to that time she had known only masters who despised and maltreated her, or at best, considered her a useful slave. Now, however, she heard that there is a “paron” above all masters, the Lord of all lords, and that this Lord is good, goodness in person. She came to know that this Lord even knew her, that he had created her—that he actually loved her. She too was loved, and by none other than the supreme “Paron”, before whom all other masters are themselves no more than lowly servants. She was known and loved and she was awaited. What is more, this master had himself accepted the destiny of being flogged and now he was waiting for her “at the Father's right hand”. Now she had “hope” —no longer simply the modest hope of finding masters who would be less cruel, but the great hope: “I am definitively loved and whatever happens to me—I am awaited by this Love. And so my life is good.” Through the knowledge of this hope she was “redeemed”, no longer a slave, but a free child of God. She understood what Paul meant when he reminded the Ephesians that previously they were without hope and without God in the world—without hope because without God. Hence, when she was about to be taken back to Sudan, Bakhita refused; she did not wish to be separated again from her “Paron”. On 9 January 1890, she was baptized and confirmed and received her first Holy Communion from the hands of the Patriarch of Venice. On 8 December 1896, in Verona, she took her vows in the Congregation of the Canossian Sisters and from that time onwards…she made several journeys round Italy in order to promote the missions: the liberation that she had received through her encounter with the God of Jesus Christ, she felt she had to extend, it had to be handed on to others, to the greatest possible number of people. The hope born in her which had “redeemed” her she could not keep to herself; this hope had to reach many, to reach everybody.

Josephine Bakhita’s story is an excellent example of Christian hope. Christian hope is not based upon creating the city of God in our time, regardless of what some song silly says in our hymnal, we can’t build the city of God to turn our tears into dancing. This world still feels the effects of the sin of our first parents and the promises it offers to us are always illusory. Houses collapse. Gunmen wander into schools and residence halls and kill people. Madmen advocate death to zealous followers. On this Easter Sunday, we, Christians, feel hope in our encounter with Christ who, alone, can deliver us from the frustrations we feel in this world to the greatness of eternal life. And may this encounter that we feel most acutely at this mass lead us to go forth and spread the gospel of hope. Alleluia! Alleluia.

Good Friday: Spe Salvi part 2: We hope for life after death.

Dearly Beloved in Christ

Last night, we began this three day celebration with Holy Thursday, the mass of the Lord’s Supper. I used the homily at that mass as an opportunity to begin reflecting on the Pope’s latest encyclical on hope. Tonight, I continue reflecting on that encyclical in the light of our present celebration of Good Friday.

The title of this encyclical is “Spe Salvi”, which is taken from the first few words of the Latin original “Spe salvi facti sumus”, which is translated as “in hope we were saved." The particular quote comes from Paul’s letter to the Romans. The full quote in English is, “We know that all creation is groaning in labor pains even until now; and not only that, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, we also groan within ourselves as we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. For in hope we were saved. Now hope that sees for itself is not hope. For who hopes for what one sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait with endurance.” The pope points out that redemption is always based upon hope, that the only way of living life to it’s fullest in the present is by having certainty of a goal that is worthy of the journey to receive it. One’s mind may go towards the book of JRR Tolkien called The Lord of the Rings. As Frodo is preparing to leave the safety of his home in the shire, he imagines that he will be forced to take the journey alone without the benefit of his friends Sam, Pippin, and Merry. Tolkien writes,

‘No! I could not!’ Frodo said to himself. ‘it is one thing to take my young friends walking over the Shire with me, until we are hungry and weary, and food and bed are sweet. To take them into exile, where hunger and weariness may have no cure, is quite another – even if they are willing to come. The inheritance is mine alone. I don’t think I ought even to take Sam.’ He looked at Sam Gamgee, and discovered that Sam was watching him.
‘Well, Sam!’ he said. ‘What about it? I am leaving the Shrire as soon as ever I can – in face I have made up my mind now not even to wait a day at crickhollow, if it can be helped.’
‘Very good, sir!’
‘You still mean to come with me?’
‘I do”
‘It is going to be very dangerous, Sam. It is already dangerous. Most likely neither of us will come back.’
‘If you don’t come back, sir, then I shan’t, that’s certain.’ Said Sam…I am going with you, if you climb to the moon and if any of those black riders try to stop you, they’ll have Sam Gamgee to reckon with, I said.”[1]

What is it that makes even the meek and mild among us able to carry out amazing acts of bravery such as being willing to follow a friend into death but belief in the importance of the final outcome? This type of belief is the substance of the hope on which Christians await their redemption. During this liturgy, we often focus on the cross and, while we must never seen in this cross anything less than an instrument of cruel torture and death, we must also keep in mind the hope that radiates from this cross of a man who, though sinless, was willing to give his life to wipe away our sins.

[1] Tolkien, J.R.R. The Fellowship of the Ring. Houghton-Miffling publishers Boston, MA. c.1987 from Book one Chapter 3: Three is company

Holy Thursday and Spe Salvi part one community

Dearly Beloved in Christ

We gather on this Holy Thursday evening to reflect on the meaning of communion, both the communion we receive each Sunday and the communion we feel when we gather as the body of Christ. This past Tuesday, the priests of this Archdiocese gathered with our Archbishop to celebrate this chrism mass, the mass where the holy oils are blessed which will be presented tonight when the gifts are brought forward. During his homily the pope used part of Pope Benedicts encyclical letter on hope that was released on November 30 of last year. I thought it would, therefore, be appropriate for us to spend our triduum reflecting on this encyclical and draw some life principles from it. One of the most surprising aspects of this encyclical is how applicable it is.

Tonight, our readings focus us on community and communion. The pope, in this encyclical, asks at one point if Christian hope is individualistic. We face this question, often, from our evangelical brothers and sisters when they ask us if we know that Christ is our personal Lord and savior. While the Pope doesn’t completely put aside the idea of personal salvation, he definitely reshapes the entire question. Using the theologian Henri de Lubac’s research into salvation, he points out that salvation has always been considered a “social” reality.” In other words, sin is what ordinarily drives us into a kind of personalism whereas redemption is the reestablishment of the person to unity with Christ and, thus, unity with the church. Think of the man whose sin is internet pornography. All through the day, the person is trying to be alone in order to indulge in the perversity of his sin. The frustration of his sin is when people do not allow him to have personal time to be alone.

So, in some ways, islation is the antithesis of salvation. So, how did we get things so turned around as to believe that holiness was something done in isolation whereas sin takes place in community? According to the Pope, this began with Francis Bacon who saw redemption as a restoration of the lost “paradise.” This restoration is done not in faith but a link between science and praxis. In other words, use of the scientific method. A student of Bacon believes that a solution is out there, it just hasn’t been found yet. We need experimental science to free us from all the world’s problems so that we can return to the redeemed state of Eden. This means that faith turns from the substance of hope into a faith in progress; things are getting better. I recently had a conversation with a student at Iowa State who was a student of Francis Bacon. He specifically asked about miracles and the substance of miracles. What if miracles are just unexplained answers to questions. In other words, what if, in the future, we find some kind of mud that actually cures diseases of the eyes when it is mixed with spittle. And, what if we find that this mud is only located in the Middle East around the Sea of Galilee. Even if we don’t find it in the future, who’s to say that it wasn’t present at the time of Christ. I had a certain sympathy for this kid because it seems like the logical step after a firm faith in the progress of science. The answer is out there, you just have to find it. There are two critical components to this view of progress; reason and freedom. The Pope says, “Reason and freedom seem to guarantee by themselves, by virtue of their intrinsic goodness, a new and perfect human community. The two key concepts of “reason” and “freedom”, however, were tacitly interpreted as being in conflict with the shackles of faith and of the Church as well as those of the political structures of the period.” In other words, you can either freely believe in reason or believe in the oppressive structures of the church.

Immanuel Kant changed the focus from a largely scientific atheism into a theological personalism by believing that the end result of this progress was the kingdom of God. Kant, therefore, pitted ecclesiastical faith (or the faith of the church) against a pure religious faith (a personal faith). Obviously, Kant saw that a pure religious faith is superior to the faith of church because it is personal and not encumbered with the communal. Kant even went so far as to intimate that Christianity could be so not worthy of love that God could reject it and allow for the brief reign of the Anti-Christ, a not so shrouded jab at the papacy.

At this point in the conversation, Pope Benedict advocates that, rather than make the mistake of Kant by pitting individual faith above the faith of the church, we need to have a dialogue. We need to help clarify what progress is: name that technological and scientific progress can be morally repugnant. To quote the document, “If technical progress is not matched by corresponding progress in man's ethical formation, in man's inner growth then it is not progress at all, but a threat for man and for the world.” We need to help clarify what reason and hope are. Reason is only reasonable if it is not based entirely upon our own experience. Reason needs to move past human experience in order to encompass all that is. And freedom needs to be understood less as my personal will and more in the convergence of wills. Still, this convergence cannot succeed unless it has a “common intrinsic criterion of measurement” as its foundation. In other words, freedom is in need of a moral compass for it to really free us.

Tomorrow, Good Friday, we will spend some time reflecting on what it is in particular that we are hoping in. And finally, on Easter Sunday, we will feel the hope of the resurrection in the person of an African slave.

Getting ready for one liturgy in three days

It's Triduum in the catholic church, a three day event in which we remember the giving over of the Lord's supper, the death of Christ, and the resurrection that sets us free.

The "traditional" way the Triduum begins is with the mass of blessing oils or the chrism mass. Most diocese are wise in moving this mass, including the Archbishop of Dubuque who celebrates this liturgy on Tuesday of this Holy Week. The Archbishop focused his homily on the Pope's latest document entitled "Spe Salvi". The focus of the document is on Christian hope and it gave me the inspiration to use it when I prepare my homilies for the next three days. So, prepare yourselves for homilies that incorporate the readings and are connected to Hope.

Please pray for the students at UNI

After the tragic events at Northern Illinois University, the University of Northern Iowa had it's own gun scare. I'm sure it feels odd locking down a building because a kid in 150 miles away sent threatening text messages. But, it's better safe than sorry and It had to ensure the safety of students. But, keep them in your prayers since there will, undoubtedly, be nay sayers.

http://www.desmoinesregister.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20080312/NEWS/80312027/1002/NEWS01

I long for the days...

This year, Iowa State University has decided to have spring break during Holy Week. I didn't know what it would mean for me but, basically, I haven't had a vacation since January and won't get one until May. And, unfortunately, all too often, I've had to "skip" my day off because of obligations.

I was licking my wounds on Tuesday, the day that I knew I would work solid for 12 hours, when I got a rather strange call. The pastor of the church in Madrid, Iowa (prounounced with the emphasis on the first syllable) asked me to take a funeral for him on Saturday. He's preaching at a funeral for a brother priest of his diocese. Without looking at my calendar, I immediately said, "Absolutely". Thankfully, I had nothing going on but I remember when my schedule was loose enough that I could make those commitments without worrying about it. Now, however, I would scarcely ever make an appointment without checking my calendar and the parish calendar. I wish I had flexibility in my schedule again. The good thing is that the semester is going to quickly come to an end and then I'll have some time to rest before wedding season picks up. I may even be able to go camping.

And then the stress will be gone...I long for those days.

A beautiful blog with great pictures and posts

In case you don't read the comments on my blog, you may not know about this wonderfully supportive blog from a woman who calls herself Easter A. It's worth visiting and spending some time reading and looking at what she has to write. And let's hope her son continues to feel the passion towards the church and priesthood when he's older that he does now.

http://atributetoourpriests.blogspot.com/

We are Lazarus

Dearly Beloved in Christ

As we draw closer to the great celebration of Triduum; Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter Sunday, you may notice that the readings are getting longer to prepare us for the reading of the passion, next week at Palm Sunday. Today’s rather lengthy reading leaves us with the question: Who in the heck in Lazarus? He’s not one of the twelve apostles. His conversion or calling to ministry is not mentioned anywhere in the scriptures. He doesn’t even live in one of the towns often associated with Jesus: Jerusalem, Nazareth, Bethlehem, or Capernaum. He lives two miles away from Jerusalem in a suburb called Bethany, just over the mount of Olives. The only other story that uses the name Lazarus is from the gospel of Luke used for a poor man who lay for years outside a stingy rich man’s house. That, however, is just that, a story. It’s a response to the Pharisees who are sneering at Jesus and his ability to teach authoritatively about the law. It’s possible that Jesus had this man whom he loved in mind as he was telling that story but, as I learned while researching this homily, Lazarus was a common name at the time. It is a shortened form of Eleazar, a name frequently used in the Old Testament, and it means “God Helps.” So, let us ask God to help us understand this man because he seems to come from nowhere and never be mentioned again.

Yet, a second look at the readings today may make us want to turn away from Lazarus and focus, instead, on the disciples. They very well could be the point of the story. They are the ones to whom Jesus thanked God that they could be with him when he awoke the man so that they may have faith. They would, likewise, have known the first reading from the Prophet Ezekiel that assured a previous generation of Israelites that they would know God when sealed graves were opened and when the dead rose. They should have been the first to trust that Jesus knew exactly what he was doing when he said he wanted to go to Jerusalem. But they let fear get in the way of their faith. They reminded Jesus that the Jews had just tried to kill him so it isn’t safe for him to return. But, Jesus knows that this lack of faith will be rewarded when they see the dead man, Lazarus rise. Even Doubting Thomas’s’ comment made in frustration, “Let us also go to die with him” cannot stop Jesus from doing what he needs to do.

But, I don’t think this really a story about the disciples. They fall into the background after Thomas’ comment and aren’t mentioned again. Maybe it’s a story about Martha and Mary, the dead man’s sisters. I imagine he expected Martha’s reaction. You may remember these two from the gospel of Luke. Martha, the hard working nagging older sister, and Mary the gentle, contemplative obedient disciple of Jesus who sat at his feet while Martha wished Jesus would make her help with the chores. When Martha approaches and says, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” he must have been excited to hear her add, “But even now I know that whatever you ask of God, God will give you.” There’s hope, in the midst of hopelessness. If Martha can evince faith in the midst of tragedy, then Mary, the contemplative, must likewise be ready for a miracle. So it must have been a real kick in the pants when Mary approached without any hope at all repeating her sister’s past-tense verse, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” and when Martha does want him to remove the stone in front of the cave because of the stench it becomes clear that, with these two, there is so much doubt, so little trust.

No, these two can’t be the real focus of the story, the ones on whom we are to fix our gaze. Perhaps Lazarus’ silence and lack of storyline isn’t meant to indicate unimportance in his role as disciple inasmuch as to invite us to see ourselves as Lazaruses. Lazarus died, just like we all will do. It is an inevitable consequence of living. And, sadly, we know that all of us will one day long to hear the very words Jesus says today, “Lazarus, come out!” (“other names, come out”) “Dennis, come out!” But, when Lazarus does come out, he is bound, both by the burial clothes and the knowledge that he will have to go through this again. He is still in what St. Paul calls the world of the flesh not the realm of the Spirit. Lazarus has to be freed from what binds him in order to live again. We, too, must look into our hearts and find what needs to be freed; jealousy, anger, lust, hatred, all those sins of the flesh that bind us in and to this world and we must be freed by God from them. We are coming to the end of this forty day retreat we call Lent so, I invite each of you to take advantage of the sacrament of reconciliation this week to walk free from what binds us so that we, Lazaruses, can hear Jesus say, “untie him and let him go.”

And I'm back

I've been busy with many things, to paraphrase scripture, and unable to be creative enough to post things for a few days. But, with a retreat, two presentations for 19 hours, and a vacationing pastor all done now, I find myself with the necessary rumination time to actually do this.

I start with a very interesting article found here in the Catholic World News. It reminds me that we need the renewal in the church and in the participation that Vatican II was supposed to be. We may, also, need to shrink a little and get a new generation of Catholics who would see the church with new eyes.

John Paul II used to compare the church to a set of lungs. He used this image to demonstrate why the division between Orthodox and Catholic is based for the One, Holy, catholic, Apostolic church. I think the other thing is that is useful about this image is the idea that, on occasion, the church needs to get smaller, or inhale, before we can exhale and grow.

Another reason to love Iowa State and know that University of Iowa just doesn't get it.

I'm doing research into the tragic events at Northern Illinois University for a presentation I'm doing next week. On it's website, NIU has listed condolences it has received from different colleges and universities regarding the event. See if you are struck by the differences between

the University of Iowa

and

Iowa State University

When I read Iowa's, it seems like the president isn't even offering condolences. It's not until the last sentence that she encourages people to focus on those who were killed. For the first three paragraphs, it's all about how the University of Iowa is facing a challenge. President Geoffroy, on the other hand, has a beautiful paragraph of condolence before he makes a statement regarding how everyone needs to be vigilant to protect students.

It's so great to be part of a University whose president models concern and service before worrying about themselves.

Most Reverend R. Walker Nickless

The lenten message of Bishop Nickless of the Sioux City diocese is really beautiful. One of my favorite passages is...

"To make that choice for grace, for God, over and over again, every moment, is difficult only because we are attached to things which are not God. We treat things which are not God as ends in themselves; in Saint Augustine's classic term, we 'enjoy' them for their own sake. But if we take seriously the life of Christ in us, such that 'it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me,' then the only end to be enjoyed for its own sake is God Himself. This is the Great Commandment, to 'love the Lord your God with your whole mind and heart and soul; and love your neighbor as yourself.'"

Lifting heavy burdens

I was really struck by today's gospel passage from daily mass. Especially this one

“The scribes and the Pharisees
have taken their seat on the chair of Moses.
Therefore, do and observe all things whatsoever they tell you,
but do not follow their example.
For they preach but they do not practice.
They tie up heavy burdens hard to carry
and lay them on people’s shoulders,
but they will not lift a finger to move them.
All their works are performed to be seen.

The part about not laying heavy burdens on people's shoulders reminded me of how often bureaucracy does that very thing. The expectation is that committees make decision but, almost invariably, one person ends up doing almost all the work. I think it's a danger of parish life and we need to make sure that we not just keep making work for people that are already too busy.

Battlestar Galactica episode one

A friend got me addicted to the sci fi television show Battlestar Galactica. (Just to be clear, I'm talking about the next series, not the one from the 70's) and, since I'm supposed to be getting my taxes done but couldn't make it because of the weather, I decided to come home and watch an episode or two on a much needed day off.

I started from the beginning, from an episode that could easily define what it means to be frustrated. The (evil) cylons keep finding the (good guys) colonial fleet and attacking them every 33 minutes. For days, the fleet has to "jump" using to a new location in the hopes that they cylons won't follow. That's how I feel about the weather. Since Thanksgiving, basically, we have been on a five or six day cycle of snow, digging out, and incredibly cold weather. Each day, we seem to have two of those three things. We are either waiting for the storm, digging out for the storm, in the midst of the storm, or freezing. And, right once it looks like we are going to turn a corner, we hear that we will simply have more of the same. It looks like we are going to get above freezing and, when we do, it drops six inches of snow on us and gets freezing.

Where do we find the hope in this? The mundane can become overwhelming! As I read the Pope's latest encyclical, Spe Salvi, I hope to find an answer to that. As I prepare a talk for a group of parishes in northern Iowa, I ask for your prayers. Ask for the intercession of St. Thomas Aquinas that I may see through the mundane times of life to help those parishes find hope.

Opening ourselves to the mountaintop experiences

Most of you are probably unaware that, by law, a priest is given four weeks out of the year to be away from his parish. Three of the four weeks we are vacation, which is why you haven’t seen Fr. Ev for a while. He’s using up all three weeks of vacation in one shot and won’t be back until a week from this coming Friday. Priests need to be able to get away from the rat race of parish work in order to be the servant-leader God has called us to be. So we pray for Fr. Ev’s safety as he is on vacation and that I, your acting pastor, not screw things up too much while he’s gone.

A priest is also expected to spend one week of the year in retreat. I still remember visiting with the Archbishop before I came here to Ames and telling him that I had spent my last retreat alone in my camper praying over the Bread of Life discourse from John’s gospel. He sort of laughed until he realized I was serious. And then this very seriously look came over his face and he said that a young priest needs a directed retreat. From then on, I vowed to find a place where I could have a directed, silent retreat. The strange thing was how God did that for me.

When the campus ministers were planning out the events we were going to facilitate, one of my responsibilities was to take a group of students to a monastery in Northern Missouri called Conception Abbey. I had already taken my directed retreat with my good friend, Fr. Bob Hart in Hawaii, so I assumed this retreat would be more for the students than for me. But, in the course of that week, I found myself changed. Even though I’ve shared this from this pulpit before, I almost didn’t come back at all. I found a depth in my spirituality there that I had never experienced and certainly didn’t expect to experience while playing chaperone to a group of college students. I found quiet and peace and, in the process, found a new depth in my relationship to God.

That’s what I find so believable about this celebration of the transfiguration. Jesus takes his inner sanctum, the three leaders among the leaders, the apostles to the apostles if you will, off by himself on a mountain. I can just imagine Peter, James and John thinking all along the way that this is a waste of time. They could be going to any number of towns to heal their sick, feed their hungry, and preach about the kingdom of God but, instead, they are taking a Sabbath rest on a mountain. What a waste of time. Yet, in the midst of this waste of time, Jesus is transfigured, changed, into his glorified self and we see him with the two Old Testament figures that represent the Law and the Prophets, Moses and Elijah. It is the glorified image of Jesus not destroying the law and the prophets but fulfilling what they said. Peter’s first thought is that he needs to do something, he needs to build them a tent and preserve this glorified experience. But, just like David in the second book of Samuel was refused to build a temple for God, so Jesus forbids Peter from doing building them a structure. Peter had to come to understand what Paul would later articulate to Timothy, “He saved us and called us to a holy life, not according to our works but according to his own design…” Peter, James and John weren’t earning this vision of heavenly glory. They were given it freely by Christ whose cross would alone earn it for them.

Sometimes, I worry that we give the false impression here at St. Thomas Aquinas that you need to earn your salvation through good works. We have numerous social justice activities for both resident and student parishioners and we spend a lot of time talking about doing service projects. I get concerned that people believe that Christ’s victory over salvation is insufficient, that we need to earn the forgiveness of our sins and glorified life offered to us in Christ instead of seeing it freely given to us. Yet, even the most socially just, most good work oriented philanthropist cannot be saved without knowing Christ, without being invited on the mountain to see Christ’s transfigured glory. We work because God has called us to live a life of love. However, this Sunday we are reminded that, just as important as a life of service is a life of prayer. We all need to take time each day to be drawn away from worldly concerns to be caught up with Christ on the mountain. Maybe we can’t find a monastery to do that and there will, undoubtedly, be experiences on retreats that will especially fulfill that need each of us feels. Yet, each day, we need to experience the God that makes us fall prostrate and reveals to us the identity of his son.

Overcoming fear

The crazy thing about fear is that it's often based on exaggeration. We make our fears even more serious than they ever need to be.

I was afraid of celebrating mass in Latin. I took some Latin in school and did alright with the language. I studied classical latin and sang church latin. I learned how to think it with Nero and learned how to pronounce it with Thomas. A group of students wanted to have a Vatican II mass in Latin. They had been learning the mass parts chanted in Latin and wanted to use what they learned. I was leery because I'm not the best "pronouncer" ever. But, I wanted to give it a shot.

Thankfully, I didn't let my fear get in the way. We celebrated it this afternoon and, to a group of young people who never experienced what some call the horrors of the pre-Vatican II liturgy, they spoke the parts in Latin that they have only said in English for years. It was awesome. I was terrified a few times because I'm sure I mangled the Latin and need to practice more but it was just nice to say "Dominus Vobiscum" and hear a resounding "Et cum spiritum tuo."

I think, if we do it again, we'd have to give them a crash course on some of the stuff that we take for granted. Like, Pax tibi instead of peace be with you for the kiss of peace. But, there was no question we were praying, even if part of the prayer was me saying, "God help me say this and understand it even if I don't say it exactly correct."