Dear St. Theresa family,
In the early 1980s I was in Rome around Christmas time and visited as many churches as I could in order to see the different nativity scenes for which the Italians are famous. Frequently these scenes incorporate elements of current culture and events because it isn’t unusual for Italian Nativity scenes to reflect the popular zeitgeist. In the obscure little Church of Santa Catarina in Funari, the scene featured two scud missiles standing crisscrossed over the Holy Family. One bore the American flag while the other had the flag of what was the Soviet Union. The message they hoped to convey to is that in every time of human strife and discord Christ is born.
Three days ago, we experienced the longest night of the year. Even if we didn’t know that the time for the celebration of Christmas evolved from a pre-Christian solstice celebration, we could recognize that the theme of light triumphing over darkness resonates with our desires for light especially when it seems that there is a dark, cold, uncertainty, and fear overwhelming hope of new life. The prophet Isaiah writes in such a time of fear. It’s a dark and frightening time in the history of Judah and Israel. The Assyrian threat has strengthened, and their presence has systematically taken over the whole region. Within a few years, Judah will become resident captives and the Northern kingdom of Israel will be no more. To them Isaiah writes: “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; Those who lived in a land of deep darkness…on them a light has shined.”
Fast forward three hundred years, and the situation is no better. The people of Israel were suffering under a succession of puppet kings who sold them out to the domination of a foreign empire. The political situation was a ticking bomb with rival factions intriguing and plotting. The traditional proclamation read for centuries prior to Midnight Mass gives an accurate picture of the situation: “in the one hundred and ninety-fourth Olympiad;” that tells us that a very foreign Greek culture of hedonism is co-existing uncomfortably beside religiously ethical Jews. “In the forty-second year of the reign of Caesar Octavian Augustus,” that tells us that Israel is no longer a sovereign people and owes forced allegiance to a foreign super-power who exacts both tribute and money… In this time of captivity, deep national malaise and fractured social structure, Isaiah’s words were heard again with fresh ears.
“For a child has been born for us, a son given to us… for the throne of David and his kingdom.”
Fast forward again to our own time. Even though we are not enslaved by the Greeks, the hedonism and dedication to sensuousness it characterized is as close as a few clicks on the keyboard. It is no longer the Roman Empire that holds us in political bondage but a mixture of special interests and our own self-serving agendas, then add to that political posturing, social upheaval, the dilemma of racial inequity and much more. There is not a person among us who after a long year of unrelenting disease, derisiveness, distrust, discord, and division, does not look anxiously somewhere for a “great light.” For all of us Isaiah has the same word of hope.
“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness…on them the light has shined. For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests on his shoulders; and he is named Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. His authority shall grow continually…He will establish and uphold it with justice and righteousness from this forth and forevermore.”
From the light shining in the darkness our attention is drawn to the words of an angel spoken from out of the darkness. Words that need to be heard again this year and taken to heart. It is the Christmas message that raises a hand to the frightened and fearful among us saying:
“Fear not…For I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all people. For today in the city of David is born a savior who is Christ and Lord.” We need a savior now more than ever. We need a savior who can move us from fear to joy. Embracing the joy of Christmas means first embracing the awareness of our need for a savior, of the need we have to be saved and to take to heart the proclamation of this story: “A savior has been born to us who is Christ and Lord.” If we are honest it is both humiliating and embarrassing to be saved. Being rescued often implies that we did something that put us in a position of helplessness. So naturally the twisted mess we make of our lives is often accompanied by a resistance to accept help. Many of us do not want to be helped. Our sin of pride insists we try to do things for ourselves. We do not want another to save us, whether it be Christ himself, or the church or a fellow Christian acting in Christ’s name. We resist what is life-giving because it involves recognizing that life comes to us from outside of us.
Truthfully. We cannot save ourselves, no matter how creative our imagination. Salvation does not yield itself to high achievement and sustained effort. We need the intervention of God to attain our human potential. The resistance which we show to this is odd because when you think about it, our most beloved stories and Hollywood Christmas movies are about being saved. Scrooge is saved from his greed and the loneliness his choices imposed on him. In the film “It’s a Wonderful Life” George Bailey is saved from despair and committing suicide. In “Miracle of 34th Street” Susan and her mother are saved from a jaded view on the world and from a life without something or someone to believe in. In all these people are saved by a power outside of themselves whether it’s ghosts, angels, or a Macy’s employee. We are given a Christmas story not for our entertainment but rather our salvation. And here’s something more… being saved is not a once-and-for-all event. We continue needing to be saved:
from despair that drags us into believing all is meaningless,
from hatreds that become all consuming,
from misplaced faith in things and their power to satisfy,
from a desire for vengeance that destroys and displaces.
from yielding to the seductive invitations of Death, whispering in our ears that hope is an illusion as he runs his cold finger across our hearts.
And it is not just that we are saved from these things… We are saved for something. Salvation is given to us that we may in turn offer hope so that we might be instruments of salvation for the world. This past year has been one long demonstration of why we so urgently need to lay claim to this salvation. For any and all who have tried to take refuge in the sentimentality of the season… for all who have been celebrating Christmas as an anesthesia since Thanksgiving, and for all who think this is a special day for children it’s time to wake up.
I’m no Scrooge. I like the ways in which we try to capture and keep the “light that shines in the darkness” but that light has a purpose far beyond a cheerful distraction…
it is a bright beacon banishing Satan disguised as all the things that try to hold us down and hold us back…making it possible for us to hear “Fear not” as an invitation to let go of the darkness and step into the “great light” which illuminates the life-saving possibilities laying in front of us.
…To let go of fear as we approach the manger and see with our own eyes those tiny arms outstretched as in an attempt to hug us all. So, in spite of Covid, Christ is born. In the face of hopelessness, Christ is born. In the midst of social unrest and latent or intentional racism, Christ is born. Regardless of political polarization, Christ is born. Against our resistance, Christ is born. Regardless of our unbelief, Christ is born. Because God never stops loving us, Christ is born. Christ is born today.
Praying for a Hopeful New Year,
Fr. Larry
Dear St. Theresa family,
Come Christmas we will hear old Isaiah proclaim once again “The people who have walked in darkness have seen a great light; upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom a light has shone.”
Indeed, we have walked in darkness and indeed that light does shine. But not exclusively with the nostalgic Christmassy sentiment we often associate with it. I have been pondering the long-term effects of what we have become accustomed to these past ten months. Each of us has experienced this time differently. Parents of school aged children have often found themselves between a rock and a hard place. Children have universally found distant learning less than satisfactory. Teachers have extended themselves in many directions quickly learning new technologies and coping with daily frustration. They should all be put on pedestals with roses strewn at their feet. Our older adults and those in long term care facilities have suffered significantly with heartbreaking demonstrations of how human presence and interaction are as necessary to the spirit as food and water to the body. Children and teens have acutely felt this isolation. So many people have had their lives put on hold. The sorrow over those who have died and the loss of livelihoods.
All of us look forward to the day when we can look back upon masks and social distancing, irrational runs on supermarkets and hands dried and cracked from constant sanitizing. The insidious part of this pandemic has been the required and resultant separation from one another that runs against our DNA. We are wired for community and that interaction is an essential part of our well-being. Holidays have been especially challenging, and weary of the restrictions, many threw caution to the wind. There is fear the same will happen at Christmas.
With a vaccine in our near future we look to the day when extended families can hug one another and strangers can shake hands and we can meet face to face rather than face to screen. Come that day we will rejoice and quickly settle into what was once routine. I cannot help, however, feel that the experience we have endured will not as easily fade. And that’s not necessarily bad. Someone said; “never waste a crisis.” Reflecting on what we have had to forgo, what we have had to alter or give up entirely, enables us to shine a light on what should be kept and what should be re-evaluated.
"Public good doesn’t automatically follow from private virtue."
Hopefully we will not have to again endure such a situation as has been ours this year, but we can never know. As Doris Day so often sang; “the future’s not ours to see…” but the present is assuredly ours to live. What we have learned in this experience can serve us well if we do not forget it. Do I want to go back to things the way they were? Not really. I want to strive for something better.
That light that shines in the darkness gives us hope and promise, but also sheds light on things we need to change both about ourselves and the world we live in. If 2020 has offered us anything of value it is an insight into the systemic issues that have gone unaddressed and unresolved for far too long. It is going to take work. Public good doesn’t automatically follow from private virtue. A person’s moral character, sterling though it may be, is insufficient to serve the cause of justice, which is to challenge the status quo, to try to make what’s legal more moral, to speak truth to power, and to take personal or concerted action against evil, whether in personal or systemic form. Compassion and justice are companions, not choices, and to believe that we can approach transcendence without drawing nearer in compassion to suffering humanity is to fool ourselves. There can be no genuine personal religious conversion without such.
Jesus came to save. Our annual observance of his nativity is a reminder that this saving act is an ongoing experience. When we come to the stable this year let us pray not only for ourselves and the future but also for healing and redemption for ourselves and society.
“The light shines in the darkness…” May it not only shine on us but also through us that we may welcome a new year that brings healing and hope.
A happy Christmas,
Fr. Larry
Dear St. Theresa family,
Christmas is the advent of salvation. But who can be saved? I get asked this question quite a bit, both by people who genuinely want to know and folk who have all the answers and want to be certain that mine agree with theirs. This is the question asked by a crowd of people who had just heard Jesus talking about how difficult it will be to enter the kingdom of heaven. “Who then can be saved?” Good question, then and now. Rather than worrying about camels and needles and such I want to look at salvation as it seems to emerge in Scripture and quite apart from what is possibly Jesus’ response to those looking for easy formulas.
First of all, salvation is Jesus. Think about it. God took a unique form, my form, your form. God did this for you and me. Salvation is a drafty smelly stable in a forgotten by-way about five miles from Jerusalem. Some would call this place “out of the way.” Salvation is a baby lying helpless in a feeding trough…for you and me. Salvation is a God-boy learning from Joseph how to make a plow, learning from his mother how to love his Heavenly Father, one might say learning how to love himself. Salvation is the man who went hungry and thirsty…for you and me. Salvation is God’s son sold for silver and mocked with a crown of thorns, whipped like a slave and hung out to die…for you and me. Salvation, very simply, is what St. Paul wrote in Galatians 2:20: “He loved me and gave himself…for me.”
Salvation is discovery. It’s where we find Christ at work. In every creature he has fashioned he created being. From his imagination has sprung many human races, ten thousand species of bird, an estimated five to seven million kinds of insects (that we know of,) the majesty of our earth, and it would be pointless to start on the stars. To each of us he has given intelligence and the ability to love. Salvation is not Christ on some imperial throne in heaven but rather everywhere in every part of his universe unimaginably alive in all times and at every moment of every creature’s existence. Yes, the world is charged with the presence of Christ, with the labor of Christ. For you and me.Salvation is life. All three persons of God alive as an energizing presence active and interested. In you and me. Salvation is new life, a new creation, through repentance and reform, God whispering to you and me, “I forgive you; go in peace.” Salvation is the Bread of Life-Jesus, body and blood, soul and divinity-in the palm of our hand, on the tip of our tongue, deep within our body. Salvation is the life within your family-what the early Christians called “a little church” and what we call the “domestic church” with Christ as the unseen guest at every table and in every conversation. Salvation is the life within this community, loving one another, loving the unlovable and the unlovely, all those Christ-loved beings who bear the scars inflicted by the unloving. Loving them as he loves you and me.
Salvation is a cross. Many crosses. The crosses erected over history and over you and me. For salvation is following in the footsteps of Christ, on a trip to Jerusalem. The way is difficult and strewn with obstacles painful to negotiate. Yet even here, especially here, we touch salvation for as the song goes “it is in dying that we find eternal life.” Dying to self, dying to sin, dying to attitudes we collect like barnacles making of us a heavy laden deeply suspicious and lifelessly frightened people. Salvation is often dying the numberless deaths that dot our human lives, all the loves God tears from us as the years progress. Simply put, salvation is now, every moment you and I live. So, “Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord has made known unto us.” Luke 2:15.
Have a joy-filled third week of Advent,
Fr. Larry
Dear St. Theresa family,
Read 1 Thessalonians 5:16-24
St. Paul tells us to rejoice always. One of the beauties of childhood is the ability of little children to rejoice at the coming of Christmas. It’s fine for them. They don’t have to do all the work. However, when St. Paul admonishes us to rejoice always I think he has something more substantial in mind than happiness. “Rejoice in the Lord, always.” How do you hear that? What does it mean to you?
I hear that and wonder about the families of those affected by the pandemic. How do they hear this? Can there be rejoicing in the face of a rampant virus? Or how much rejoicing can we expect from those whose Christmas is not going to be very merry having lost their homes and possessions in the California wildfires. Will those who have lost their jobs or homes due to the pandemic feel like rejoicing always this year? And that’s just a sample.
Biblically understood, joy is that which still stands firm when the last shreds of happiness have been scattered on the winds like a dandelion. Joy is what still blazes when the sorrows of the world sweep over you like a sea; for while happiness is human, joy is divine. So, as of love, so it can be said of Joy: Many waters cannot quench it, neither can the floods drown it (Song of Songs.) Joy enhances all worldly pleasures that don’t represent an escape from reality. Jesus first visits human beings not in their sadness but in their happiness, at a wedding feast at Cana. He is full of compassion, full of love, full of sorrow mingled with tears of joy, for the more one is capable of joy the greater one’s capacity for sorrow.
If the world around has drained us of joy, it’s probably because we have sought to insulate ourselves from sorrow. It’s a boring bargain we make with ourselves: in order not to feel too badly about some things we won’t really feel good about anything. But emotional mediocrity is not the good life and some of the most joyful people I have ever known were poorer than Job’s turkey, some even on their deathbed. So, I know there is more to joy than happiness.
“Rejoice in the Lord always; and again, I say rejoice…The Lord is at hand, in nothing be anxious.” What an incredible statement; but it’s true; it’s all this fretting about our insecurity and our inadequacy which produces all this emotional and spiritual mediocrity. Paul is right. “Rejoice in the Lord always; and again, I say rejoice, but can there be meaning in a tragedy such as we have experienced these past months? I think meaning has to be affirmed in the face of death. I think meaning has to be affirmed in the face of tragedies we cannot possibly fathom, and in the face of human stupidities we can understand all too readily. It is meaning that finally provides joy, a joy that is more profound than either happiness or unhappiness. That’s why many waters cannot quench joy. And, finally, there is a related kind of joy which is inseparable from pain. St. Paul describes it eloquently and convincingly, in Philippians 13.
“Whatever gain I had I count as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Jesus Christ my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as refuse in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own based on law, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith…Not that I have already obtained this, or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own because Christ Jesus has made me his own.”
Have you ever had that sense of undeserved integrity which comes with being in the right fight? That’s what St. Paul is here describing. “Rejoice in the Lord,” not finally in anything else. A dollar bill may seem more real than Christ, the most real of all realities. But don’t short-change yourself. Advent is the time to organize your life unobtrusively and yet decisively according to the life and spirit of the coming savior. It won’t always be easy. In fact, it will often be hard, for faith has its night as well as its day, and most of the world around us is dark. But the joy of faith cannot be stifled by the suffering we experience within.
The joy of faith cannot even be stifled by the suffering we see around us, nor by the doubts from which we cannot escape. We believe in the sun even when it isn’t shining. We believe in love, and especially so when we feel only the anguish of its absence. So, we believe in God even in the inevitable moments when we do not feel his light and love. Even though the incomprehensible tragedies and evil, the senseless violence and the suffering it creates, has raised a pessimistic backdrop behind our own daily struggles they cannot resist the overwhelming Joy that proclaims God in his majesty, Christ in his victory and the Holy Spirit in its determination.
Rejoicing in the Lord is not a reaction to something you may or may not feel; it is a prescription for something that challenges, changes, and subordinates, making space in our hearts and lives for something far better than the bitter resignation that chokes out hope and banishes peace. It’s a prescription with a refill…” Rejoice in the Lord always” and its refill…”and again I say rejoice.”
Grace and peace,
Fr. Larry
Dear St. Theresa family.
It is not unusual for people to be confused about this feast day and its relationship to the virgin birth of Christ. Some think that what we celebrate today is the conception of Jesus by Mary. That’s celebrated as the Feast of the Annunciation on March 25th. What we celebrate today is Mary’s own conception in her mother’s womb, a conception that differed from all others up to that time. It begins the story of our redemption through Jesus Christ long before he was born.
The dogma of the Immaculate Conception of Mary was understood as true for many centuries but only defined by Pope Pius IX in 1854. It affirms the belief that the Blessed Virgin Mary was free from original sin from the very beginning of her life in her mother’s womb. That meant that by the grace of God, she was shielded from original sin which all mankind inherit at the very moment they begin to live, the moment they are conceived in their mother’s womb. Mary was not burdened with the weight of Adam’s sin with which you and I come into the world. She came into the world with a perfect human nature like that of Adam and Eve before they sinned and fell from grace. God gave her the perfect human nature not as a reward for anything she did, and not, on account of any special thing she did on her part, but in view of the singular role she was to play in life, namely, that of being the mother of God’s Son.
Why did God do this for Mary? So that Jesus could come into the world through her as the new Adam. It was big reversal of how it originally happened. Remember how God created Adam first and then decided to create Eve out of Adam’s rib? God puts man in charge. God makes a woman out a man. The man and the woman listen to the wrong voice and lose paradise. This time God created the new woman, the new Eve and then from her came the new Adam. This doctrine of the Immaculate Conception tells us something about who Mary is. But maybe it tells us more about who God is and who we are in the light of God’s love.
Embracing this Immaculate Conception reveals to us a God who provides for the future, who prepared his children for their assigned task in life before they are born, a God who foresees and equips us with all the natural and supernatural qualities we need to play our assigned role in the drama of human salvation. God anoints them already in the womb those men and women whom he created to be his prophets. As he told Jeremiah, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations.” God does not just throw us into the worldwide wilderness and then leave us to fight it out among ourselves. The theory of evolution with its doctrine of the survival of the fittest may describe human nature in its fallen state, in the state of original sin, but it does not describe life for the people of God redeemed by grace from the unbridled effects of the fall.
As we rejoice with God’s most favored one on the feast of her conception, let us also thank God for his love and mercy which embraces each of us right from the moment of our own conception, and for Mary’s example of faithfulness which inspires us to a holiness of life inspiring each of us to be worthy vessels through which Jesus is made present to a world in great need.
Grace and peace,
Fr. Larry
Dear St. Theresa family,
A post-election Advent thought in the middle of a plague.
The aftermath of an extremely contentious election often results in both polarization and fear. We have plenty of both. The old Chinese curse “May you live in interesting times” seems to have come true for us. Many are ecstatic with the election results. Many are not. As Christians we are called to be hopeful and expectant but not divisive. That said, the election and all that it conjures for us is going to be fresh in our minds when we hear the Advent Scriptures this year.
Read Matthew 24:37-44.
Advent brings with it texts from the Bible that speak of end times complete with dire predictions. I’m reminded of the Evangelical Protestant notion of “the Rapture.” That term is popular among certain varieties of Christians and it has bred an enormously profitable series of books all with the title “Left Behind.” They don’t get their information from the bible, however. Whether they know it or not, they owe most of their eschatology to a renegade Anglican priest from Ireland named John Darby. He spent a large part of the 19th century preaching something called “Premillennial Dispensationalism.” According to Mr. Darby, human history is divided up into seven ages or as he called them “dispensations,” all leading up to the end of time. According to his calculation we live under the dispensation of grace, when people are judged according to their personal relationship with Jesus Christ. And according to this idea, between now and the dispensation of the millennial kingdom things are going to get ugly. Incidentally, the term “rapture” originates with Darby and does not appear anywhere in the Bible.
According to Darby there is going to be a great tribulation, which those whom Jesus recognizes as his own will not have to endure. God will remove the elect by means of the “rapture” before judging the earth. Then Israel will be restored as God’s primary instrument in history, the wicked will be destroyed in the final battle of Armageddon, and Christ will begin a thousand-year reign on earth.
John Darby and his followers notwithstanding, the idea of the rapture creates answers for a lot of questions the bible does not provide, and it is very popular, especially among people who don’t like surprises. Some of these folks are informed. They know who will be saved and who will be lost. They know who the antichrist is and where the messiah will appear. These are the people who have bumper stickers on their cars that say: “Warning, in case of the rapture, the driver of this car will disappear.” Lately I have seen some others that say, “When the rapture comes, can I have your car?”
St. Matthew might not have been that flip, but he assuredly belonged to the second crowd. He wasn’t concerned with reading signs and keeping timetables, partly because he knew how preoccupied people could get with those things. Before long they cared more about their calculations than they did about their neighbors. Once they had figured out who God’s 144,000 elect were, they didn’t waste any time or courtesy on the damned, except perhaps to remind them just how hot hell was going to be. Meanwhile, God’s chosen had plenty to do: Flee the cities, arm themselves against the enemy, and purify themselves for their journey to heaven.
Once they had gotten themselves all worked up about this Matthew found it nearly impossible to impress them with the fact that there were widows and orphans in the community going hungry because no one was signing up for the food pantry, or that there were still some people in prison who needed visiting, as well as some sick people at home who still needed looking after. But what did any of that matter when the end is right around the corner?
Ironically, Matthew had the same problem with those who had given up looking for the end. They had stayed pretty focused for the first ten or twenty years, when there were still people around who had actually seen and heard Jesus, but once his disciples began to die off and the eyewitness reports about him became second and third hand stories, people’s enthusiasm began to cool. If the stories were true, then where was he? If he was so full of love, then why hadn’t he come back?
Things had never been worse in Palestine. God’s chosen people were scattered, The Temple was destroyed, the promised land was a province of the Roman Empire, and there was no relief in sight, “Truly, I say to you, this generation will not pass away till all these things take place,” Jesus said, but something had obviously gone wrong. Most of the generation that heard him say that had passed away, and the ones who were left were getting a bit long in the tooth. God’s alarm clock must not have gone off. Or had God forgotten? A third possibility: there never was a God at all.
With questions like these in mind, Matthew made sure to include Jesus disclaimer that even he did not know when the end would come. “No one knows, “Jesus said, “not even the angels of heaven, nor the son, but only the Father”. That left only one practical alternative, which served as Matthew’s bottom line:
“Watch, therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming.”
This twenty fourth chapter of Matthew is like three-act play about the end of time. Starting with the first verse, each act last about fifteen verses. Each contains a description of events still to come, and each ends up with a renewed call to discipleship in the here and now. That makes St. Matthew a pretty astute psychologist as well as an evangelist. He knows that while anxiety and apathy may look like two different disorders, they both respond to the same treatment, which is a focused assignment of some kind. So, in each of his acts he describes a virtue that believers may practice whether the sun is falling out of the sky or not. In act one the virtue is enduring love, in act two it is discernment, and in act three it is alertness, or mindfulness—the moment by moment willingness to stay awake to all that is. Any of you who have ever tried to meditate—even to say the Lord’s prayer all the way through without letting your mind wander off—know how difficult this is. The present moment is just too slippery for most of us to hang on to. As hard as we try, we tend to slide off into what happened yesterday or what we have to do an hour from now, and whether our problem is preoccupation with the future or disillusionment with the past, the end result is that very few of us live our lives while they are actually happening to us. We are cut off from the present. God cannot get to us through all the layers of regret and expectation that we have swaddled ourselves in.
Is it possible, for instance, that we can be so bogged down in the past that we almost never meet anyone new, or more to the point, rarely give anyone a chance to be new? When someone we don’t know walks up to us with hungry eyes, we will treat them like the last person we met who looked like that. This person may have an entirely different story to tell... this person may have a vital word for us that could very possibly change our life, but we can’t see them. All we can see is the last person who they remind us of, which means this person does not have a chance to get through to us.
The same is true for the future, which is the special place where many store away good intentions. Good intentions about the people in our life who we are going to treat better one day real soon. We are not always going to be so busy and unfocused we tell ourselves. “Any day now I am going to have time to do the things I have always meant to do.” In the meantime, this vision of the future gets us off the hook today. We can even fool ourselves into believing that our splendid good intentions make us a better person right now, and that time will forever expand to meet my needs.
While these are, of course, just personal delusions, they affect communities and nations as well. According to St. Matthew, it’s time to wake up. No matter where Jesus is, it’s time to stop living in the past and in the future and to start living right now, because whenever the end comes, that’s when it will come—in the now—and meanwhile, our best chance at discovering what abundant life is all about is to start living into it right now.
Even though Advent is all about the three comings of Christ, truthfully Christ comes again and again and again and is always on the way to us here and now. The only thing we are required to do is to notice, to watch and keep our eyes peeled.
“Therefore, you must also be ready, for the son of man is coming at an hour you do not expect.” How do you deal with a piece of advice like that? Well, why not be ready all the time, not only for the end but for whatever the moment brings? Every morning when you wake up, decide to live the life God has given you to live right now. Refuse to live yesterday over and over again. Resist the temptation to save your best self for tomorrow. Don’t put off living the kind of life you meant to live.
There isn’t any time for that, no matter how much time is left. Go ahead and make the decision, write the letter, get the help you need, find someone to love, give yourself away, write that big check to the church. Why waste your time preparing for an end time you cannot predict? Live prepared. Live a caught up life, not a put off life, so that wherever you are—standing in a metaphorical field or grinding at the mill of whatever you do, or just going about the everyday business of your life—you are ready for God, for whatever happens next, not afraid but wide awake, watching for the Lord who never tires of coming into the world. Who knows? Ours may be the generation that finally sees him ride in on a cloud, or we may meet him the same way generations before us have—one by one, as each of us closes our eyes for the last time. Either way, for those of us who are fearful, our lives are in God’s hands. Either way, God leaves the living of them to us.
Live a happy and expectant Advent!
Fr. Larry
Habakkuk 3: 17-18
Though the fig tree does not bud
and there are no grapes on the vines,
though the olive crop fails
and the fields produce no food,
though there are no sheep in the pen
and no cattle in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the Lord,
I will be joyful in God my Savior.
Dear St. Theresa family,
It is Thanksgiving once again and so many people’s lives have been changed, so many lives lost, put on hold, and lived in fear. Gatherings around turkey and dressing will be of necessity more intimate. With many, loneliness will be keenly felt. Those who in past years have had the joys of being with others will be thankful alone. Wise sacrifices but not terrible. Amidst our troubles there is good news of an approved vaccine meaning light at the end of the tunnel.
I chose the text from Habakkuk for the reasons I have just mentioned. Rather than a litany of all God’s goodness to us or of God’s wonderful attributes, we find a rather bleak and depressing picture painted for us. Disappointment rather than success seems to be the order of the day, and yet in the midst of that failure, in the midst of that privation, is the cry of hope and confidence: “I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation.” Thanksgiving begins not with our success and not even with ourselves, it begins with God.
We don’t give thanks for the pilgrims, we give thanks for the God they adored, we give thanks that God caused Habakkuk to rejoice in disappointment, that God of all ages past and all ages yet to be is faithful even if beyond our vision and comprehension. We give thanks for the failures and resolve not to be discouraged.
We are thankful not only for God’s constancy and for our place in his plan, but, if we are truly to be a part of the process of redeeming the familiar, we are most thankful that with God we are given a second chance. When we miss opportunities, when we fail in the few noble efforts that we make, we know that we are the children of the “second chance”. It is God’s forgiveness of our human failures and our forgiveness of our fellow human beings that makes this process work.
Thanksgiving Day is not very far from Advent and Christmas, that’s an accident of the calendar, but it does represent a very important relationship, for it is in Advent and Christmas that we look forward to the coming of our “second chance.” In the great expectation of that season, hope is reborn, and with it there is made fresh within each of us the sense that we can perhaps start again with a new slate. That is why it is such a welcome time, and that is why it has such a high claim upon the affections of people of great and little faith. We are not washed up, the book is not closed, the last word has not been spoken or written, and we have cause for thanksgiving that we are privileged to live, as the poet W. H. Auden says, “for the time being.”
Let us therefore be contrite but without anxiety.
“For powers and times are not gods but mortal gifts from God;
Let us acknowledge our defeat but without despair
For all societies and epochs are transient details,
Transmitting and everlasting opportunity
That the kingdom of heaven may come, not in our present
And not in our future, but in the fullness of time.”
God is. We are. So despite our fumbles and because of God’s grace we are not daunted by the troubles of the day, nor are we fearful of what is to come. We do not bless God for our wealth, our health, or for our feeble wisdom. We bless God that God is, that we are, and that his promise and love shall be with us when time itself shall be no more.
Though the fig tree does not blossom, nor fruit be in the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flocks cut off from the fold and there be no heard in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation .
Be thankful and be well,
Fr. Larry
November kicks off with All Saints and All Souls day. For Latin cultures the “Day of the Dead” extends throughout the month, the theme being our ultimate destiny. That observance highlights the leveling aspects of death. In markets that specialize in Día de los Muertos objets d’art, you can find skeletons dressed as people from any walk of life. Regardless of our status in life, rich or poor, death is the great equalizer. From now until about the end of Advent the readings in church are going to be focused on end times. A cheery thought as we begin making out our holiday lists and festive plans.
That sobering theme, however, is nowhere to be found in a society that places materialism as the locus of happiness and satisfaction. Every year Forbes magazine publishes a list of the highest paid CEOs. People magazine once did an article on the richest kids in Hollywood. The message is clear…money matters. We may tell our children that “money cannot buy happiness,” but the fawning attention we give to the rich tells a different story. I’m reminded of the old Barry Gordy song that features this wicked line about money: “But what you can’t buy, I can’t use.”
I don’t remember but it was either Paul Tsongas or Stephen Covey who said: “No one lies on their death bed and thinks, ‘I should have spent more time at the office.’” In our hearts we know that to be true and yet our “I want money” attitude, which goes along with systemic greed and narcissism, insists that we get what we want at whatever the non-monetary cost. Our economic system depends, in part, on these values and attitudes. Our desire to succeed leads to the same endless striving for career advancement and monetary gain, to say nothing of the expense of long hours at the office.
I think the old saying is true. Money can’t buy happiness. And no career, no matter how exciting or well-paying, can ultimately satisfy, especially in our American economic system. Statistically speaking we’re working longer hours for less pay with declining job security. We even have difficulty taking time off. We no longer take real vacations. How many of us spend hours on a cell phone while we are sipping Mai-Tai’s at some Sandal’s resort? Where lies the opportunities for a certain kind of stillness, true relaxation, time for reflection and even form human connection? It’s true that even these things are now a luxury for most people, given the nature of life and work these days.
So how do we disciples of Christ achieve full human flourishing? In John 10:10 Jesus says, “I came that you may have life, and have it abundantly.” In other words, Jesus came so we might fully flourish as human beings. Jesus did not say, “I came that you might have a satisfying career,” or “I came that you might make money and make it abundantly,” although there some preachers who seem to interpret him this way. Our status and value get wrapped up in the things we do. It’s part of our (fallen) human nature. We have this deep desire to create for ourselves a life and an identity such that who we are has lasting meaning and value. From the Christian perspective, full human flourishing is not possible apart from God and we get nowhere trying to create meaning of our lives by the things or accomplishments that stir up our pridefulness.
Meaning comes from God, and God values you without regard to the mud pies you hold up for the admiration of others. Truly meaningful work is an outgrowth of the soul-felt conviction that God loves you. The alternative is a work life that is nothing but an ultimately futile attempt to create meaning in a constantly shifting culture of success by meeting the expectations of everyone else but God.
Back to November and ultimate things. A few years ago, someone gave me a little skeleton dressed like a priest.
I think I will put it on my desk for the times I get too caught up in what I do and forget who I am.
May the souls of the faithful departed rest in peace,
Fr. Larry
Dear St. Theresa family,
“It’s the most wonderful time of the year”…Stewardship!
In the 1930’s our country endured a lengthy economic depression. President Roosevelt’s first inaugural address in 1933 outlined in broad terms how he hoped to lead this nation and reminded Americans that our “common difficulties” concerned only material things.
Listen to his words:
“This is preeminently the time to speak the truth, the whole truth, frankly and boldly. Nor need we shrink from honestly facing conditions in our country today. This great nation will endure as it has endured, will revive and will prosper. So, first of all let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself…nameless, un-reassuring unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.
Yet our distress comes from no failure of substance. We are stricken by no plague of locusts. Compared with the perils which our forefathers conquered because they believed and were not afraid, we have much to be thankful for…
Plenty is at our doorstep, but a generous use of it languishes in the very sight of supply.
Happiness lies not in the mere possession of money; it lies in the joy of achievement, in the thrill of achievement: The thrill of creative effort. These dark days will be worth all they cost us if they teach us that our true destiny is not to be ministered unto but to minister to ourselves and our fellow men.”
The same spiritual truth we hear from Jesus in the 25th chapter of the gospel of St. Matthew. Go grab your Bible and read that passage.
At first reading, Jesus seems to be saying that the world seems so intent on proving that the big guy always wins, and the small fry always loses. Jesus seems to be joining the already too numerous citizens of almost every nation who are intent on attacking the vulnerable instead of the powerful. But maybe Jesus is only trying…once again…to break through our defenses, to unearth something most of us would prefer to keep buried. The parable, in fact, does not discriminate: The two-talent man enters into the same joy as the five-talent man. I think the deep-down message of the parable is that small is beautiful and God loves one talent people. That’s why he made so many of us. And that’s why his son came down so hard on this particular one-talent person…because he refuses to believe it.
What can you do with someone who insists that he is inferior, who refuses to believe that she is loved just the same as anyone else? This one talent man decides that the best defense is a good offense. “Master, I know you to be a hard man, reaping where you do not sow and gathering where you do not scatter.” In effect, what he is saying is, “You see, Master, you shouldn’t be like that. Look where it gets you. Now if you had slipped me five, or even two talents, things today might be different.” Overcome with his own sense of inferiority he literally digs his own hole, then tries to punish the master for putting him in it, and not rescuing him from it. I’m surprised he didn’t present the master with a bill for the shovel. The ultimate weapon of those who feel themselves inferior is to try to hold everyone back. As opposed to the Pharisees, they know their weaknesses but don’t try to live their strengths. They lean on their swords, catching their breaths…all their lives. They don’t make history; they suffer it. And God is not their hope, but their excuse.
Each of the servants who had invested the money, and had produced more for the employer, was praised. The third servant had not put his share to work.
It’s worth noting that he did nothing wrong. He didn’t steal the money. He didn’t lose it.
He just did nothing with it. He sat on it for fear of losing it. It’s like the parable of the wealthy landowner who stored up all his wealth in barns and then hears the message “This day your life is required of you…the things you have stored up, whose will they be?”
Jesus is using a practical financial situation to illustrate a spiritual truth.
All servants were given specific amounts of money. This is a reminder from Jesus that everything we have is given to us by God to be used in trust. Our ability to make money is itself a gift. What Jesus shows us is that to have gifts is to have the ability to make things happen. But nothing happens when the gifts are buried because we are afraid there will be no more gifts. That’s what motivated the third servant who said it out loud: “I was afraid.” There in that phrase Jesus names the great enemy of all human gifts…fear. So much is never achieved by so many because of fear. Notice the consequences. What the timid servant did not use, was taken from him and given to those who had. Spiritual gifts are no different. If we are not a conduit for what God has given us the results will be stagnation, and like food left too long in the refrigerator, they will be useful for nothing.
We come to Mass each week to transact the business of life and death, embracing the mystery of God’s grace and taking with us the message of the Good news of grace. Because operating from a mode of fear is so deeply entrenched, many are not comfortable trusting God when it comes to their money. That’s why I think it’s helpful to begin by comparing where God is to the rest of our life in terms of how we spend our money. It tells the story of our priorities in life. What God the giver of all good gifts demands is that we use what is given and stop being afraid.
In trying to make sense of this parable I thought about football. Once you get the ball that’s when the action starts, because as soon as you get it someone else is going to try to get it away from you. The prudent thing to do when you get it is to run as fast as you can to the dressing room and put it in your locker so it will be safely in your possession. Forget risking getting across the goal line. The ball is mine so game over. But that’s not how the game is played. No one is going to buy seasons tickets for that.
God is telling us to trust that what he has given us is to be put in play so that we have something to show for ourselves when he asks for an accounting. For those of us who identify with the one-talent guy, the gospel is a call to drop back and punt when life seems to present you an unending sequence of fourth downs and ten yards to go. Most of us are one-talent players. And today we have the ball. The question is, will we put it into play?
May God bless our trust in Him.
Fr. Larry
Dear St. Theresa family,
This weekend All Saints falls on a Sunday. This is the day we hear about the “blessed” from the Sermon on the Mount. Blessed are they, and Jesus then tells us what it is that makes them blessed. And that’s great, but I see it also as a giant family reunion for the Church.
We bring out the old photo album and thumb through it recalling our spiritual ancestors. There’s St. Francis, standing barefoot in the snow, with birds on his shoulders and his pet wolf at his side. Next to him is Joan of Arc who led men twice her size into battle always surrounded by the voices of critics but always paying more attention to the voice of God in her head. If you keep turning pages you find others, not as well known but no less impressive. There is Maximilian, the first conscientious objector, who was drafted by the Roman army but refused to serve. His only loyalty, he said, was to the army of God. This brought great shame to his father, a veteran, who knew that his son’s decision meant death. At his execution he noticed the shabby clothing worn by the executioner and, calling to his father in the crowd, asked that his own new clothes be taken off and given to the man. A similar story is told about St. James the Great who was the brother of John, who was so full of grace on his way to his death that the guard assigned to him fell on his knees and confessed faith in his prisoner’s God. James raised him up by the hand saying: “Peace be with you.” Both men were executed together, but their last words live on in the exchange of peace that we observe today.
As you get to know the saints you begin to realize how un-saintly they often seem to be. St. Bernard was one of the organizers of the second crusade which quickly got side- tracked collapsing into an orgy of pillage and looting. St. Mary of Egypt was a prostitute for seventeen years before she became a desert mother for the next fifty. Even our own patron St. Therese of Lisieux hated retreats and did not particularly like saying the Rosary! What distinguished them is their extravagant love of God and their amazing lack of fear.
There are many saints who have not made the official list. Saints with a small s. I’ll wager you have all known a few. I’m remembering Osceola McCarty of Hattiesburg Miss. who passed away in 1999. She was a laundress, an old black woman who had never married, dropping out of school in the sixth grade to begin a lifetime of clothes washing. When she was twelve her aunt came out of hospital, unable to walk, and moved in with her family. The reason she left school was to stay home and care for her aunt. When this aunt recovered McCarty figured it was too late to return to school feeling she had missed too much to ever catch up. “I was too big,” she says, “so I kept on working.”
For the next seventy-five years that is what she did, sunrise to sunset scrubbing and boiling clothes. She lived a remarkably frugal life giving 10% of her income to her church and another 10% to a few needy relatives the rest she put in savings. It was not until she was eighty-seven years old that anyone knew fully who she was. That was the year she gave $150,000 of her life savings to the University of Southern Mississippi for worthy and needy student scholarships. Now reporters and photographers swarmed all over her. She inspired local business folk who pledged to match her gift quickly turning into $300.000. McCarty said the one question she was asked more than any other is why she spent nothing on herself. “I am spending it on myself,” she answered, smiling the slyest of smiles.
Once we are baptized, we belong to God and all that remains to be seen is what we will do about it. We just need to be reminded that we do not have to be famous, or perfect, or dead. We just have to be ourselves, the one of a kind, never to be repeated human being who God created us to be…to love as we are loved, to throw our arms around the world, to reflect the shining Lord in our words and actions.
We also remember that we don’t go about alone. We are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses, Saints Francis, Joan of Arc, Maximilian, Bernard, Mary of Egypt, Therese of Lisieux… and even Osceola and no doubt someone you know, all of them egging us on to something bigger and better than a life of hoarding, stinginess and fear. All of them cheering us on to what makes for a truly blessed life.
Happy All Saints,
Fr. Larry
Dear St. Theresa family,
At first we thought it would be a matter of weeks…certainly by Easter, yes? Nope. Then we thought the promised land of a virus free world would be ours this past summer and most certainly by the time school would go back in session. Nope. Then there were the reports of breakthroughs in vaccination research and other medical possibilities. And we were told it would be years in the making, at least by those involved in medicine.
Every week we hear about advances and retreats in the area of vaccination. Now the virus seems to be again gaining steam across the nation. I feel like the Israelites crossing the Red Sea, high walls of water just waiting to crash down with the distant thunder of Pharaoh’s chariots and horses hot on our heels. The future is ahead of us but what of now? My mother would always say: “In God’s good time” but I never liked that phrase. It left me out of the equation. I was reduced to patience. How terrible is that?
You hear about how people are “fatigued” with the virus and all the challenges and changes it has required. It has been tiresome and for many, far more than just tiresome. For far too many it has been deadly. Along with this we have background noise rumbling across the country. A dull roar of discontent and frustration. Everyone has an opinion about the boiling kettle of 2020 with increasing tensions. Polarized politics, plague, police and racial strife, and the controversial education experience of children, the economy, the unemployed…add it all up and it is taking a toll on the public sense of well-being.
I remember saying early on that “this, too will pass.” A cousin who has been following my letters threw that back in my face the other day saying; “yeah, it will pass…like a kidney stone.” Nevertheless, I stand by it. It will pass, but without respect to my plans and desires. We seem to be sharing something of the frustrations felt by the Israelites who were promised a land of milk and honey and for the longest time got nothing but sand and disappointment.
Imagine how they felt. Yes, life for them was a drudge and misery, a daily reality. Then along came Moses who listened to God and appealed to his brother for freedom. After some nasty and devastating manifestations of God’s displeasure Pharaoh dismissed the Israelites to cross the Red Sea which they proceed to do with their hearts and minds full of all kinds of promises. But here’s the deal. It did not happen as quickly as they wanted and that’s when a whole new round of trouble began for God’s people. It wasn’t long before the complaining started. They were not having a good time and even blamed it on God. The slavery and fleshpots of Egypt were starting to look pretty good. They were so tired of what they were asked to endure that they would even risk the deathly alternative for a moment of life as it was before.
Don’t get me wrong. COVID-19 and politics and the long and very long struggle to recognize the equality of all God’s people are not the same thing as the Exodus. But the similarities of reaction are noticeable. Let me point a light at a few of them. First is selfishness and its companion entitlement. These are the unattractive attributes which often surface when frustration is high. The Israelites suffered this along the way to freedom with much of it recorded in petty attitudes and actions. There is much of that today. Virtue in short supply especially patience.
Eventually by welcoming patience and finding perseverance the Israelites reached the promised land. It will take patience and perseverance for us to move toward a future free of the limitations we necessarily endure for a time. So, let’s ask God for a bit of help in that area. As I have said before, this too will pass… but apparently in God’s good time.
Join us for Adoration and Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament tonight in the church building at 6:30 p.m.
A Tuesday’s ramble.
Grace and peace,
Fr. Larry
Dear St. Theresa family,
I wrote this sometime back to awaken dormant attitudes about the Blessed Sacrament. I thought I would share it again.
I am willing to bet that just about all of us has one object or another in our possession that has significance far beyond what it appears to be. I’m looking at a small rug I pulled out of a box. My aunt Peggy made this rug for me as an ordination present. She was a very talented needle point artist and she was one of the most fascinating, delightful, eccentric and well-read persons I’ve ever known. Widowed young, she was a Presbyterian with an arid sense of humor, a formidable intellect, and a Daschund named Phippy.
She lived in a rambling old house that had belonged to her parents which had many years ago been moved off the campus at Texas A&M. By the time I came to know it, it had been added to many times and was nearly engulfed by bamboo. The house was filled with all the exotic remembrances of their travels. A huge brass samovar from Turkey, Indian pottery from the Southwest, Oriental rugs and antique furniture from a Southern plantation. There were walls lined with books, almost none of them in English, as great uncle Charles had been a professor of modern languages. To me it was always a treat to visit her in that house with its musty smells, the silver in the dining room black with tarnish, the shelves of the music room packed with 78 rpm recordings and an ancient record player to audition them. I would spend hours playing those heavy old discs discovering talents such as Caruso, the operas of Puccini and the newest records in the collection which featured such up to date artists as Benny Goodman, Eddie Duchin, The Andrew’s sisters and Frank Sinatra.
I would gladly spend hours listening to her tell stories of the time they lived in Turkey or Central America. She loved history and she loved me, and it made me want to love it too. She could make history seem vital by the way she talked about ancient kings and their regimes, always loading my arms with volumes of Arnold Toynbee and insisting that I must distinguish between the Plantagenet’s, Tudors and the Stuarts. She was one of those people whose company you enjoyed, and you couldn’t be around her without wanting to discover something new. Her sparkling presence could be just the tonic for any dull day.
She was thrilled when I went off to study in the seminary. She would often send me letters reporting on what Dr. Leslie had preached on the previous Sunday at First Presbyterian Church. When I was ordained, she presented me with a small rug she needle pointed. And always referred to me as “father-baby” which she worked into the border. She died a few years later, with the local Presbyterian minister and me taking the graveside services.
Whenever I look at this rug it floods my mind with memories. I can smell the old books and feel the warmth that was our special relationship. And it never fails! I will be doing whatever, and then I run across the rug and instantly I am transported through time to that old house just a few blocks from the campus, I can still smell the aroma of old books and I’m back again sprawled out on the floor listening to Aunt Peggy give out her opinion on local politics or telling me about some historical tidbit while Phippy snores in the corner.
And once again I’m filled with her life.
Isn’t it odd how some simple, ordinary thing such as a rug can make such a living vivid connection? It can make what was important to her, important to me all over again.
I guess that’s the power of relationships. That’s the power such relationships can invest in something as ordinary as a rug or bread and wine.
In the sixth chapter of John we hear Jesus insisting that we eat his body and drink his blood if we want to have life in him. Makes perfect sense to me. God willed that his being should become flesh and blood. God wants us to be part of him. So, God gives us himself in the spiritual food of the Eucharist. His life all packed into the common elements of bread and wine.
Then Jesus said that we should do this in remembrance of him. Remembrance. That makes sense too. When we remember we re-member, we make the member present again. In the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass the ordinary elements of bread and wine become by grace the very person of Jesus Christ. The God made man who told stories about Fathers welcoming back sons no questions asked, and who socialized with outcasts and pariahs. The one who stretched out his arms between heaven and earth in an everlasting sign of redemption. The one who said “lo, I am with you always until the close of the ages.” The God made human who forgives and shows compassion. That’s what we take in this Eucharist. That’s the life that becomes part of us when we receive the Body and Blood of our Lord. Each encounter with Christ’s Body and Blood is a moment of connection to Jesus wherein we are divinely embraced by his love, his forgiveness, his mercy and his presence.
When we are already in relationship to him it is our impetus to press forward in our apostolic lives of service. And each encounter revitalizes our lives with his life until we are filled with the life of God. And isn’t that the grace of Holy Communion, to make what is important to God, important to us all over again?
Grace and peace to all
Fr. Larry
Dear St. Theresa family,
I keep hearing people say: “my truth.” What a gift! What a marvelous thing to be able to arrive at confident assurance of the verities such that we can claim complete ownership of them. I have spent much of my life struggling to bring myself in line with the absolutes that grease the skids of the pursuit of integrity and the resulting joyful peace of mind. I have met with some successes but many more failures. When it comes to a total resignation to such absolutes and all those immutable truths, I have yet to reach that certainty of mind that happens only when my ego and faulty self-absorbed intellect have received their walking papers (I’m still waiting.) By the grace of God should that gift ever be mine, I, too, hope to be able to stand before others and confidently claim the truth as a personal possession. In the meantime, I must give the benefit of the doubt to all real truths. Even if I am struggling with them, I must nevertheless bow to them without full comprehension doing them the honor of obedience for no other reason than I am a mere person and not the pivot point about which the universe spins.
I believe it was Daniel Wallace that said: “It would be better for us to have some doubts in an honest pursuit of truth, than it would be for us to be certain about something that was not true.” Clarence Darrow wrote: “The pursuit of truth will set your free; even if you never catch up with it.” The pursuit of truth rightly implies that a gap exists between us and truth. But what’s hidden and evasive? Is it we or truth? Maybe it is we who evade truth’s quest for us. If I were of a mind to redefine the world on my own terms, I could populate such an existence with all manner of alternate realities which would please my narcissistic intellect and that would be fine for me. I think, however, I would run into trouble were I to insist that others join me in or even show any respect for such a groundless vanity.
I sincerely hope that if I am ever able to say with confidence that I have arrived at such a state of understanding and acceptance that I am tempted to claim total ownership of truth that I will have the presence of mind and humility to stop myself with the realization that the truth is never mine to own but only to surrender. Because, truthfully there is no such thing as my truth.
Have a grace-full week.
Fr. Larry
Dear St. Theresa family,
I learn a lot standing in line to check out at the grocery store. If it isn’t the latest tragedy to befall a famous public figure in one of the tabloids it is the conversation I overhear from the others in line. One woman to another: “Thank God I’ve given up being glamorous! It’s too much work.”
“I’m finally comfortable being who I am” she said. I heard her words as a bold theological statement. For her, being comfortable with who she is means accepting the person God created her to be and knowing that, from the standpoint of faith, beauty comes from the inside, regardless of the external package.
Thumbing through the Bible for its perspective, beauty is difficult to define or evaluate. The Old Testament book of Song of Solomon (or Songs depending on your translation) celebrates the beauty of the female body, but I dare anyone to go to the gym and tell the trainer, “I want my belly to look like a ‘heap of wheat, encircled with lilies’ and my neck to look like ‘David’s tower’ or to the dentist insisting that your teeth should resemble a ‘flock of ewes…all of them big with twins.’” (Song of Solomon 7:2-4)
Or should fashion tips be taken from St. Paul? “If a woman will not veil herself, then she should cut off her hair.” (1 Cor. 11:6a) St. Peter was equally disinterested in sartorial splendors stating: “Do not adorn yourselves outwardly by braiding your hair and by wearing gold ornaments or fine clothing.” (1 Peter 3:3) Proverbs 31: 10-31 gives us a description of the perfect woman. This passage, usually translated as “capable wife” but a better translation is “virtuous woman,” gives us no idea of her appearance whatever, only what she is supposed to do. She cooks, she weaves, she sews, she manages the household, buys and sells real estate, trades in the market, cares for the poor. She’s the Martha Stewart of the ancient world. The text may not tell us what she looks like, but I know. She looks exhausted.
In fact, Song of Solomon aside, Scripture often shows a deep suspicion of beauty. Show me a woman in the Bible whose primary descriptor is “beautiful,” and I will show you trouble. In 2 Samuel 11 David didn’t invite Bathsheba up to his room because he was impressed by the way she prayed. In Matthew 6:22 Herod didn’t give Salome the head of John the Baptist as a reward for her piety. In Genesis 29 Jacob’s preference for Rachel over Leah had nothing to do with Rachel’s compassion for the poor. I remember leading a study on the women of the bible and telling the group about Laban who tricks Jacob in Genesis by slipping Leah into the marriage bed, and Jacob doesn’t notice he’s got the wrong girl until morning causing one woman in the study to mutter “Men!”
Think about the women who were the real stars of the Bible. Sarah, Mary, Elizabeth, Anna, Not a word about what they looked like but lots of words about how faithful and crucial they were which is what really matters. The last line of Proverbs 31 speaks the truth: “Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.” For all of us men and women, the gift of faith and age is learning to see ourselves as God sees us, from the inside, with the eyes of love. The people I know who are beautiful are not anxious about age or size. They take care of themselves, but not in a life and death struggle against the ravages of time. To come to a personal realization that great efforts to look a certain way in the eyes of others is not as interesting to God as recognizing and gratefully accepting that what we see in the mirror is God’s image and likeness. A healthy acceptance of who we are in the eyes of God, beloved and capable, is the gift that endures, the real beauty time cannot change.
Have a beautiful week,
Fr. Larry
Dear St. Theresa family,
I am finishing a book on how to be a domestic church and recalled the bedtime prayers of my childhood.
“Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, bless this bed that I lie on.” Little aware was I that the evangelists, abruptly summoned from rapture, dash wildly to earth for bed blessing. On the way they dodge flights of angels and assorted saints. Between the hours of eight and nine at night, when the children say their prayers, Christianity is an extremely hectic religion.
The medieval philosophers have suffered considerable snide criticism for wasting their time estimating how many angels could dance on the head of a pin. The climate of modern thought does not support the spectacle of any angels whatever, let alone merry ones dancing. Yet there they are on a hot Texas night, roosting on bedposts in a cluttered room with gangs of saints, taking notes:
“Please find Slinkey my pet turtle and my Matchbox Chevy convertible…
That’s an easy one. St. Anthony go find that turtle and toy car.
“Bless all the firemen at the fire-station.”
Ok, that’s Florian…Go surround our fire fighters.
“Bless our country…”
Where are we? Oh, anybody here got the United States? Yes, all of it. Powers, Thrones, Dominions, you take the US …and good luck.
“Bless our house…”
Houses…houses…Joseph! That’s you. Take the house like a good fellow and do something about that garage door.
“And bless Mommy and Daddy.”
Silence.
The archangels shrink from parenthood. They stare appraisingly at the saints who shuffle,
sneeze, and shrug their shoulders checking each other’s shoulders for lint.
Hilary? Charles? Cosmas or Damian?
Pass.
How about you Francis? You were always attracted to martyrdom.
“I’ve got sharks this week.”
You take them.
But it’s only two people this time, a man and a woman, happily married, too. Fear not.
Ha! That’s what they all say.
Now, who had Mommy and Daddy last time? Nobody since Christopher - and rumor has it he has been demoted to Mr. Christopher - lost his feast day over it.
I’m not going to take them. Something always happens. Every night the same ole thing.
How about God the Father? (wild applause.) Well done, Thomas Aquinas! That settles it. Mothers and Fathers to God Almighty. Lights out. A child falls asleep, clutching a wet matchbox car St. Anthony found in the vaporizer.
For many families, the major time of praying together comes at bedtime, when children “say their prayers” and parents listen. But how many parents then “say their prayers?” Most are so busy there is little time for prayer or study; it simply isn’t a priority among most Christians these days. But if we are to be in the presence of God’s new future, we must be filled with his loving Spirit. And that is an event and process that can happen only as we draw close to God in prayer. Only as we realize our own barrenness and turn to God for life is there any possibility of his kingdom seeds growing within us.
Whole life discipleship begins by giving priority to prayer, study and even a retreat. It begins by finding our confident center in the living God. The inner journey has come to mean so many different things these days. For some, it means five minutes of rushed devotions before work. For others it may be little else than furtive pleadings when a lot of push has come to a lot of shove. It cannot be that way with us.
Remember that our lives of spirituality begin with encounter. The Eucharist, the Word, as we encounter him in the quiet places of listening where graced moments of clarity fill our minds and hearts.
The Church begins at home and with prayer.
How is it in your home?
Grace and peace,
Fr. Larry
Dear St. Theresa family,
My father left me with a lexicon of sayings that will stay with me for the rest of my life. For instance, I was looking for a bottle of ketchup in the refrigerator and couldn’t find it and I asked for his help. Throwing down the newspaper he stamped into the kitchen, shoved aside two things in the ice box, picked up the bottle and gave it to me saying: “If it had been a snake it would have bit you!” Meaning that whatever I needed was obvious and right in front of me but because of my carelessness I missed it.
We have all had similar experiences. But when it comes to the thing that we most want in life, that kind of carelessness can prevent us from experiencing what God wants for us and ultimately, we want for ourselves. We have all heard this from the Gospel: “If you keep my commandments…your joy will be complete.”
God’s commandments are given so that we may have freedom and joy. And, while we know this and they are in front of us, we tend to look past them. We have a deep desire but fail to see the answer right in front of us. Here they are just as the Bible gives them to us.
It’s simple and obvious and certainly no secret. It’s a quid pro quo in which we faithfully observe and follow all these commandments, without alteration or interpretation with the result that we have complete freedom. And with that freedom comes complete joy. If our joy is lacking something, maybe we’re just not seeing clearly the obvious and it’s time to call on our Father to come help us look…
Grace and peace,
Fr. Larry
Dear St. Theresa family,
Yesterday we heard Jesus entrust to Peter the keys of the kingdom. It happened in Caesarea Philippi which was a beautiful and dangerous place. Today it is a collection of ruins on the edge of a national park near Lebanon. In those days it was a rest and recreation center for the Roman army meaning of course that certain entertainments were readily available. It is no surprise that the city was dedicated to the God Pan who was the most sensual of the Greek gods.
It was in this city, surrounded by a very secular and seamy society that Jesus decided to ask his disciples a key question. “Who do people say the Son of man is?” After he listened to their replies, he asked an even more important question; “Who do you say I am?” That put everybody on the spot. Peter, being Peter, blurts out that he is Jesus the Christ which means the anointed one. That moment stays alive down to this day. Jesus asks us the same question in exactly the same words, “Who do you say I am?”
Up to now what reply have we made in our lives? Maybe we have already said with Peter, “You are the Christ.” If we have not, then we have got to say it at some point if our relationship with him is to be authentic, life-giving, and lasting.
As I mentioned Caesarea Philippi was dangerous, beautiful, secular and notoriously sexual. It’s interesting that Jesus chose that place to ask his question. Look at the world we live in, the world where we are trying to be disciples. Can that urban world of ours not be seen in very much the same terms as Caesarea Philippi? It certainly can be tough and dangerous; in places it can be extremely beautiful and impressive. it is also immensely intrigued by sexuality. Much of the time it shamelessly uses it to sell us things we desire.
The point is that it is right in the middle of this very secular world that Jesus ask us his eternal question. He demands that we state our allegiance to him. Notice what he says to Peter after Peter’s expression of faith. He defined that faith as the rock on which Christian community can be built. Likewise, our faith, if it is real, becomes a rich and strong base on which God’s work in the community can be founded. Jesus depends on us. Something to think and pray about this week.
Blessings to all,
Fr. Larry
Dear St. Theresa family,
I remember a dear old Methodist minister who once said: “If you think its hot now just keep on sinning.”
Someone the other day stated that we never hear much about hell anymore. “Father, you should talk about hell and damnation and how angry our Lord is with us.” I asked this person what it was about hell they wanted to know. “Oh, I know all about it, but other people need to know.” I get helpful direction like that from time to time. I’m reminded of the proxy confession I hear where the would-be penitent says: “Father I haven’t done anything wrong but let me tell you about my husband and children.”
I think what it is they really want to hear is something of what one of my co-religionist’s friends’ terms “the lost language of sin.” The lost words I’m talking about are all over the bible and woven thickly into our tradition but for various reasons have passed out of popularity giving place to the inclusive language of love, grace, acceptance and faith. Nothing wrong with any of these and the more we have the better, but they cannot be understood and embraced apart from their opposites. What are those lost words? “damnation, repentance, penance, inequity, transgression…,” all words associated with sin, words our Lord did not shy away from. We don’t use those words much in our prayers or conversation, nor do they populate many homilies. There are some churches today that have abandoned any notion of sin. The bible doesn’t mince words like a lot of us preachers do and that should be a lesson to us pulpiteers.
Often when we speak of God, we bypass sin and go straight for grace. Do not get me wrong, I love the parable of the father with two sons, often called the Prodigal Son. It is a great story that assures us that no matter how far we have gone from God, we are always welcome home. The problem is that we are not much interested in the whole process of waking up to the fact that we are eating the pig’s food. So many have been eating it for so long they’ve grown accustomed to it. They never get to the point where the younger son realizes that in his father’s house there is much better waiting for him if he will just face up to his sin and ask for forgiveness. It is also possible to think that our Jesus dies with his arms wide open as an everlasting reminder of our pardon, and all who have been baptized in his name have received the forgiveness of sin so why then dwell on the failures God has promised to absolve?
Abandoning the language of sin will not make sin go away. We humans will continue to experience alienation, deformation, damnation, and death no matter what we call them. The denial of their presence will only weaken grace since the full impact of forgiveness cannot be felt apart from the full impact of what has been forgiven.
All of us have felt the undertow of sin in our lives but may have forgotten the language to speak of it. We steer clear of sin vocabulary that highlights it in such a way that we can no longer ignore the stain and stench of it. Guilt exists as a symptom that we cannot afford to ignore. We do need to reclaim the language of sin. If we think that all God cares about is whether or not we believe in Jesus we need to remember the words of our Savior who said “Not all those who say Lord, Lord…”
And yet we remember that for the most part we all do the best we can. If some of us do better than others, then that is because we were dealt a better hand to begin with. Sometimes the things we call sin are the result of what others have done. We do what we do because of what has been done to us. Since we did not deform ourselves, we cannot re-form ourselves which is why we need a compassionate physician who is more interested in healing us than repelling us. But we must be careful not to confuse sin with other conditions or illness. There are things we do on purpose that deform and there is no one else to blame but ourselves. How often do the words of Johnny Lee’s hit from 1980 “Looking for love in all the wrong places” ring truer than we would prefer?
I remember a line from the 60’s film “Charade,” when Audrey Hepburn turns to Cary Grant and asks him, “Why do people lie?” “People lie,” he says, “because they want something and fear that the truth will not get it for them.” If he had been a clergyman in a pulpit instead of an actor, he might have said, “People sin because they want something and fear that goodness will not get it for them.”
A right relationship with God means taking another look at Paul’s little list of those things which stand in the way of righteousness: greed, lust, gluttony, debauchery, deception, and a few others. According to St. Matthew, those who hunger and thirst for it are blessed. Jesus expects righteousness of his disciples to exceed that of the scribes and Pharisees. In him it is possible to see what right relationship with God and neighbor looks like. It looks like justice. It looks like compassion. It looks like life lived in a covenant of staggering love.
One of the Hebrew words for a righteous person: “tzedakah” suggests “one whose aim is true.” Setting it beside the New Testament Greek word for sin “hamartia,” an archery term for that defines sin as “missing the mark,” gives an image of righteousness as target practice. It doesn’t matter if my arrow finds its mark or falls a hundred feet away, the daily practice of right relationship is how I improve my aim. Yes, I will continue to sin, but that is not my aim which is to live as God wants me to live and as Thomas Merton once wrote: “I believe that the wish to please God does in fact please God.”
We cannot afford to ignore sin and its consequences and neither can we forget the mercy and grace of a Father who stands at the end of the road, his hands shielding his eyes from the sun as he looks out waiting for his children to come home.
For now, let’s go do some “target practice.”
Grace and peace,
Fr. Larry
Dear. St. Theresa Parish,
Get your bible and read Matthew 18:21-35.
By far the most common issue facing relationships today is the idea of forgiveness. It is either the worry over forgiving or being forgiven. It’s disheartening the number of folks who do not believe that God can forgive them. But that explains why they do not believe anyone else will either. So, why then should they bother offering others what they do not believe they deserve or will possibly receive?
There is a lot today that passes for forgiveness that is not forgiveness at all but a kind of indifference, in which we dismiss people from our lives by “forgiving” them and then have less and less to do with them until there is nothing left between us at all.
When that happens, the only excuse I can think of is that we have forgotten what it is like to be forgiven from the heart, because if we could remember what that is really like, how could we deprive anyone else of the same experience? That’s what the king in the parable wants to know. He stopped keeping score on his servants and wants to know why his servants couldn’t do the same. The only thing I can figure is that the servant missed the significance of what happened to him.
He missed the experience of forgiveness altogether. Somehow, when the king released him and forgave him his debt, he didn’t get it. He thought he had gotten away with something. He thought the king was daft to buy such an obvious lie: “Lord have patience with me and I will pay you everything.” He could never repay what he owed. He knew it and the king knew it, but if making the king feel sorry for him meant that he did not have to pay, what did he care?
He missed the experience of forgiveness altogether. It never occurred to him that he was not being let off the hook or being patronized. It never crossed his mind what was really happening to him was that he was being forgiven from the heart by someone who understood the enormity of his debt…was willing to let it all go, to stop keeping score, to erase the debt that had become a substitute for the relationship so that they could get to know one another again.
He missed all that. Now he figured the best way to cut his own losses was to see that the same thing did not happen to him. So, when his turn came, he did what he had fully expected the king to do to him: he grabbed his debtor by the throat and demanded payment. All he saw when he looked at his fellow servant was an overdue bill walking around, and he grabbed it by the throat.
You know how it ends and it’s not good.
How many people build their own private prisons to which they sentence themselves to lives of misery because they cannot believe that any God could love them enough to see past their humanity unto the divinity after which they are made? How many try to sentence others to the same fate? By the end of the parable, Peter thinks he has gotten the message: Do unto others or the king will do unto you…only he misses the point himself. The point is: Do unto others as the king has already done unto you. It’s not a matter of earning your forgiveness or letting others of the hook so that you will be let off the hook yourself. It is a matter of understanding that you have already been forgiven, that someone to whom you owe everything…your life and breath, your talents and fondness for fresh tomatoes, your pleasure in glorious sunsets, all the loves of your life…someone who has given and given and has received precious little in return has examined your enormous debt in great detail, and knowing your credit rating is nil, has taken your stack of IOUs and torn them up. Balancing the books for no other reason than a desire to stay in relationship…and wants you to be free to respond.
When someone stops keeping score on you, you start feeling a little foolish keeping score on others. You feel petty wanting to write them off after seventy times seventy especially when you consider how many times you have been forgiven yourself…forgiven from the heart by someone who loves you very much and wants to keep on loving you more. Once that sinks in how can any of us pass up a chance to do the same?
Stay well and help others do the same,
Fr. Larry
Dear St. Theresa family,
During a covid driven organizational frenzy I ran across quotes from the saints on annoyance and patience, two things this pandemic has caused and challenged…which I pass on to you.
“Restraining my impatience cost me so much that I was bathed in perspiration”
-Therese of Lisieux
“Never rebuke while you are still indignant about a fault committed---wait until the next day, or even longer. And then, calmly, and with a purer intention, make your reprimand. You will gain by a more friendly word than by a three hour quarrel.”
-Ven. Jose Escriva
“Whenever anything disagreeable or displeasing happens to you, remember Christ crucified and be silent.”
-St. John of the Cross
“Without the burden of afflictions, it is impossible to reach the height of grace. The gifts of grace increase as the struggles increase.”
-St. Rose of Lima
“My precious children stick to me like little burrs, they are so fearful of losing me again (after a journey). The moment I shake one off one side, another clings on the opposite, nor can I write one word without some sweet interruption.”
-St. Elizabeth Ann Seton
“Do as the storekeeper does with his merchandise; make a profit on every article. Suffer not the loss of the tiniest fragment of the true cross. It may only be the sting of a fly or the point of a pin that annoys you; it may be the little eccentricities of a neighbor, some unintentional slight, the insignificant loss of a penny, some little restlessness of a soul, a slight pain in your limbs. Make a profit on every article as the grocer does, and you will soon be wealthy in God.”
-St. Louis de Montfort
Have a blessed, patient and thoughtful day!
Fr. Larry
Dear St. Theresa family,
Our daily question around the campus is “when can we start this or that? …Better wait and see.” It’s the same everywhere. The good news is that the church isn’t going away. Not so for other institutions. It is disheartening to hear of people who are not only virus victims but also those adversely affected economically. Just this past week I learned that the Dart Bowl was closing for good. Originally located on Burnet road they were made famous serving up their distinctive and addictive enchiladas complete with fresh hot rolls. They follow other Austin born places suffering the effects of this trying situation. Texas is hard hit with many re-thinking rebooting. We had a little taste of getting back to normal which is what makes rolling back unappealing. Other than wearing masks and respecting others, what else can we individually do about this? I don’t have an answer yet, but the question is worth pondering. What’s more, our situation has been made more complicated by a pandemic of racial strife with the flaring of long-simmering embers kept hot by a spectrum of societal elements. Finally, given our entitled tendencies some folk are getting obnoxiously polemical.
As a nation we are dealing with two plagues at the same time. Pandemically speaking, we certainly have our ups and downs in terms of effective handling of the Covid 19 situation. Our friends north of the border seem to have fared better. Canada joins other nations who have had greater success coping with this virus which the press relates is largely due to less political division and greater discipline. Nevertheless, we should continue to take heart. A vaccine is on its way. For better or worse our former lifestyles will resume. This plague will end.
But what about the other one? What of a plague that has erupted here and there decade after decade? What of a plague that has been treated with bandages and promises? What about this plague that calls each one of us to personal responsibility? As an old white guy, I’m no better than anyone else. Prejudices are what they are. How we get infected with them needs to be examined with the same scrutiny we are applying to an invisible pathogen. We cannot say that the “how” of our prejudices is immaterial. What we do to change ingrained and often unconscious bigotry is the essential task. In terms of coming to grips with this centuries-old plague, placing blame seems popular. Scapegoating always arises when, instead of facing real wrongs, people are infuriated with imaginary ones. An outspoken white preacher from the civil rights era of the 60’s once said: “It often appears that the more harm white Americans do to black Americans, the more harm we claim they have done to us. We grab everything for ourselves, even the injuries!” So true. I have learned from experience is not to take very seriously anyone who says: “I don’t have a racist bone in my body.”
Here is the thing. The consequences of the past are always with us. Erasing them by removing any evidence that they existed may please in the moment, but without unbiased understanding of what they represent to so many, the gesture leads to further polarization. Certainly, we should pull down the cast bronze reminders of oppression which so many find offensive: but be aware that history proves such gestures alone are not enough. Reactionary Iconoclastic behavior fails to accomplish a desired goal without a comprehensive understanding of the “why” to accompany it. I remember at the onset of Perestroika seeing statues and images of Communist heroes being pulled down and destroyed. Surely that will be the end of the kind of oppression it represented, yes? Apparently not.
What can we do? Much. A good start is recognizing that half of the hostilities tearing the world apart could be resolved today were we to allow the forgiveness of sins to alter these consequences. Let’s go further: all the hostilities in our personal and planetary life could be ended were we to allow the forgiveness of sins to act as a lightning rod grounding all these hostilities; if we were to say to ourselves, “the hostility stops here.” Is that wishful thinking? Is it too simplistic? Only if we are without faith.
When things go badly in the kingdoms of this world, as invariably they do, given the callous insensibility that turns human beings away from their neighbors in preoccupation with their own troubles, or with dreams of aggrandizement…in such bad moments, many people turn from God, saying, “How could God permit such bad things to happen?” Instead of becoming alienated from their faith in God, wouldn’t it make more sense for them to become alienated from their mislaid hopes in human beings, alienated from shallow notions of automatic progress, from sentimental notions about the “nobility of man”? Of course we should love and live for one another. Not, however, because you and I are so loveable, but simply because that’s the only way we are to become loveable.
“Am I “my brother’s keeper?” No, I am my brother’s brother or sister. Human unity is not something we are called upon to create, only to recognize. We all belong to one another. That’s the way God made us. Christ died to keep us that way. Our sin is only and always that we put asunder what God has joined together.
God bless you all and do the best you can.
Fr. Larry
Dear St. Theresa family,
I wrote a prayer for our time.
Lord our God I praise and thank you.
In such a time I need more than ever to thank you for your blessings and for the miracles of grace that fill each day.
I praise and thank you for the beauty of your creation even when I do not understand why parts of it rise up, deeply challenging our days and lives.
I praise you for what I cannot comprehend or control.
I praise you for your merciful goodness which I often fail to imitate.
I praise you for your wisdom which exceeds my knowledge, your vision which exceeds my eyesight, and your patience which exceeds my compassion.
I thank you for those challenges that make me reach deeper into myself.
I thank you even when illness and depredation relentlessly cause suffering and anguish.
I thank you despite ignorance and fear, prejudice and pain, frustration and impatience that cause grief.
I thank you for the power that comes from broken hearts, hearts that give power to voices that can say to ignorance and evil enough is enough.
I thank you for minds and hearts pierced with truth, when courage and conviction break callousness and convention.
Lord I ask you forgiveness for the times I have not spoken up, have not reached out, have not stood apart, have not given, have not been compassionate, have not acknowledged my fear or that of others. Forgive my need to be right, selfish reliance on feeble intellect. Forgive.
Lord God give me what I need and protect me from what I want. Give me a sense
of unity that overcomes suspicion and aggression.
Lord remind me that every person I see is an image of you and embracing everyone made in your image is not an option. Continue to remind me that every face displays your holiness.
Give me ears that hear, a calm heart and clear and open mind.
I ask you for an increased share of your wisdom.
Father, I yield myself to you in our time of disease, our time of grief and disappointment, our time of looking at who we are as a people. Give me courage not to mind earthly things, but to look forward to that which lasts forever.
Father I submit to your will and ask all of this in unity with your Son Jesus Christ and the power of your Holy Spirit with the intercession of our blessed Mother and who is our Lord for ever and ever. Amen.
Dear St. Theresa family,
Reading the gospel for this next weekend I began thinking about our giving. From time to time I talk about stewardship, especially the stewardship of money. It is the privilege of every pastor. The mix of money and faith has always simmered just a few degrees below the flash point.
While Moses was up on the mountain, his brother Aaron persuaded the Israelites waiting around and restless to lend some substance to this ethereal deity, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. So their gold became their god. Not much later, they again contributed gold to a religious purpose, this time to the furnishings of God’s dwelling place on earth, the tabernacle.
When Solomon asked not for wealth or long life but for wisdom, God gave him wisdom…and wealth and long life. On the other hand, despite God’s warning that Israel’s kings shouldn’t go stockpiling military arms and money and wives, Solomon did just that. And it all turned around on him and bit him in the end.
During the Exile in Babylonia, many of the details of the Jewish law were spelled out and codified…including details about tithing, that ten percent tax that God levied on his people. And it came to pass that tithing became a public, visible gauge of one’s devotion. The public part, however, quickly shoved aside the devotion part so that God was soon castigating them for hypocrisy…for following the letter of the tithing law yet not getting its spiritual aspect.
The Apostle Paul turned it all on its head when in the first century he wrote that the law no longer constrained Christians. Part of being freed from the law, he pointed out, was that Christians were also free to give more than ten percent or less than ten percent…whatever they decided to give…without feeling compelled, without grudging.
Since then, church has seesawed on the money-and-faith question. Popes levied taxes on nations for all manner of unpopular causes even to the point of “offering” indulgences in exchange. Modern televangelists got into hot water granting spiritual favors on those who ante up a few bucks for a prayer trinket.
And then there’s the annual parish “beg-a-thon” to cover the cost of everything from utilities, payroll, and repairs, to wine, hosts and candles. There’s inevitable Stewardship Sunday, when you get the money homily and your pastor cannot help but imply that God is pleased with you when you give money to your church and a bit irritated when you don’t. You think, if only they’d just come out and say it: “Like any non-profit, this incorporated body needs regular donations if it is to exist. So step up to the plate, make your pledge, and make good on it!” But no, they drag God into it, and it begins to smell of manipulation: “God will bless you if you give money…the more money, the more blessing.”
Yet isn’t there indeed a connection between your faith and your money? Jesus talked about it a lot. “Where your heart is there your treasure will be…” words to that effect.
This Sunday we hear the parable of the sower and the seed. It is a story about lots of seed going lots of places. It is a tale of reckless giving without regard to where the generosity lands. In it we are reminded that a stingy planter gets a stingy crop; a lavish planter reaps a huge harvest. Truthfully, each has to examine their hearts and make up their own minds about giving. No amount of arm twisting can compare with a convicted heart because God loves it when the giver delights in the giving.
God can pour out blessings in astonishing ways so that you are ready for anything and everything, more than just ready to do what needs to be done. In 1st Corinthians 9:15 Paul writes:
“As one psalmist puts it, He throws caution to the winds, giving to the needy in reckless abandon. His right-living, right-giving ways never run out, never wear out. The most generous God who gives seed to the farmer that becomes bread for your meals is more than extravagant with you. He gives you something you can then give away, which grows into full formed lives, robust is God, wealthy is every way, so that you can be generous in every way, producing with us great praise to God.”
Everyone please do what you must to stay well.
Blessings,
Fr. Larry
Dear St. Theresa family,
As someone on TV said: “We may be done with covid but covid is not done with us.” Regrettable but true. With the dramatic multiplication of cases, we are all being called to greater diligence. The Fourth of July is coming up and lots of folks have traditions and get togethers that are being reconsidered. Common sense tells us to think about how we will celebrate.
It seems that good common sense is not as common as it should be. As evidenced in the media there has been and continues to be a great deal of throwing caution to the wind. It seems clear that this resurgence is the price paid. While I have said in the past “this, too will pass”…I didn’t say when. It is unhelpful to point fingers at questionable leadership. Virtually everyone is making this up as they go along. We have what we have and leaving politics to the politicians, it is up to us to do our best to stay well and help others do the same.
Masses will continue at the parish, but we encourage everyone to wear masks for the benefit of all. We ask that everyone follow the protocol for seating and receiving communion. Everyone should come forward for communion or a blessing to avoid having people pass in front of you in the pew. Please observe distancing in the communion lines as well as when entering and exiting, your neighbor will thank you. If there is a change in the Mass schedule, we will give everyone ample notice. Thank you for your cooperation in this peculiar time.
We will continue to livestream the Mass on Saturday night and have it available on the website for Sunday. Don’t forget we have a farewell reception for Fr. Hai in the courtyard following the 10:00 Mass.
This Sunday we hear Matthew 10:34-42. Go get your bible and sit down with this so that when you hear it again on Sunday it has a familiar ring. It’s the passage where Jesus talks about how he came not to bring peace but rather a sword and then ends the passage blessing those who give little ones a cup of cold water.
In this bit of Matthew Jesus is asking that the quality of our love for him be at very least of the same depth and intensity as the quality of our love and commitment to those dearest to us. We will make sacrifices for them. Will we make sacrifices for him? We will give time to them. Will we give time to him? We will give our utmost to strengthening a nourishing relationship with them. Will we do at least the same for our relationship with him? Just as we are the only ones who can make these decisions about our human relationship, so only we can decide about the quality of our relationship with Jesus.
There is so much profound content in this passage we can only touch some of it. As the core is the paradox at the heart of life. The more we try to possess life for self-centered ends, the more we lose its essential meaning and joy. The more we give ourselves to God, the more real we will find ourselves to be. Right at the end, Jesus implies that the ultimate measuring rod for our love is our actions. Loving him is not a sentimental concept. Love is obedience to him. Love is a deed done for another.
Be a blessing and stay well!
Fr. Larry
Dear St. Theresa family,
When is “one Our Father and three Hail Mary’s not enough?
I just finished another “Covid” book. One of many books I have intended to read or re-read for some time. This one was “Whatever Became of Sin” by Karl Menninger a popular twentieth century psychiatrist who warns that should the concept of sin become eliminated from cultural discourse any hope of a moral society would be imperiled. While odd that such a work would come from the medical community rather the religious it is not surprising given the loss of awareness of human wrongdoing and not hearing much on the topic from the pulpit. For Dr. Menninger one of the most psychologically healthy things a person can do is acknowledge sin and confess it. There is darkness out there as we have seen in the media. It isn’t the darkness of overt brutality, adulterous affairs, and greed. The real darkness, out of which all darkness flows, isn’t found on the outside, but within. And there is a name for it…sin.
We don’t like to talk about sin and salvation much in our culture. Sin is seen as an embarrassment and something that makes us feel guilty and unworthy. Talk of salvation challenges our need to be autonomous and self-reliant. If a priest talks about sin and sinful behavior it causes as lot of shifting around in seats, furtive glances and for some a sense of being singled out. Many have left the Church because they are attracted to a happier, more uplifting way to be spiritual, usually with a cup of coffee and the cross-word puzzle. At the end of the day, though, what is at the heart of all our desperate struggling is sin. At a basic level, we are broken people, incapable of making ultimate meaning or sense of our lives. Until we come to terms with this truth, we will always be desperate. Christians know that honestly owning up to the truth about our broken lives is not an act of cowardice but a sign of bravery.
There is an answer. It comes to us through the grace of God, in the person of Jesus Christ. He came to release the captives from the bondage of sin. He understands the restless hearts, the denial of sacred identity and failed relationships. He is the one who comes to rescue us and once we encounter the love of Christ given in the sacrament of penance, nothing is the same. Wherever there is honest confession there is true forgiveness. Whenever there is a cry of the heart, Christ answers in compassion. Whenever someone is lost, Jesus the Good Shepherd goes out searching until the lost is found. Whenever someone is in peril, Jesus comes to save. Suddenly we have inner resources we never imagined, possibilities we never dreamed of. The struggles of daily life…for control, for meaning, for peace, for love…are gathered up into the love and acceptance of God. No longer plagued by questions, we have the only answer we will ever need. We are children of the living God, who loves us and calls us into the world not to be tangled up in the webs of our own weaving, but to be like Christ, and bring the light into a world of darkness. Read the prologue to the Gospel of John. Verse 5 is the best of all: “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it.”
Truthfully, it is not so much a sense of sin that has gone missing but rather a sense of contrition and penance. We are seeing some of that going on around us now as a result of the global response to racial inequities. A society that hopes to flourish is one that faces its sin, confesses it, and then makes amends, or penance as the church calls it. If, however, a society is to embrace this it will only be because the people who make up society have embraced it as individuals. It is one thing to recognize sin and regret it and something else to repair the damage. It must begin with “Forgive me Father.”
Have a blessed week,
Fr. Larry
Dear St. Theresa family,
This Sunday we celebrate the feast commemorating the Body and Blood of or Lord, once known as Corpus Christi Day. Yet another Holy Day in the United States suffering indifference moved from Thursday, its traditional day of observance to Sunday.
Not so in Europe. In Cologne, Germany on Corpus Christi Day, parishioners, sodalities and various groups with banners join clergy and servers from all over the diocese who then join throngs gathering in the city square to begin a great celebration of the Blessed Sacrament through the city. This is a real holiday as everything is closed in anticipation of the thousands who will line the streets to pay homage to the presence of Our Savior who blesses the city.
The day begins with Mass outside of the cathedral followed by the procession through the streets stopping at various altars for the singing of litanies and adoration. Returning to the cathedral this tremendous civic devotion culminates in solemn Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament. A scene repeated all over Catholic Europe and other countries. It is regrettable that most of our children will never witness such a demonstration of faith and devotion. I think this alone is worth a trip to Europe at this time of year!
We are experiencing an increase of devotion to our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament. Tabernacles once exiled to out of the way places and little rooms are being returned to a place that signifies the centrality of this sacrament in our faith. Much more is required. An increase in such devotion along with sound teaching is needed if we are to reverse what is indicated in the latest Pew research which tells us that 69% of self-identifying Catholics do not believe in the real presence of Jesus in the Eucharist.
Diminished devotion to this sacrament is nothing new. In the mid to late 19th century devotion to Christ had waned and many saw the need for action. Dismayed by the lack of participation or understanding of the Eucharist, a French laywoman named Emilie-Marie Tamisier who thinking “enough is enough” relentlessly lobbied the hierarchy to address the need. The resulting first Eucharistic Congress was with great success held in Lille, France. But it was not until when Bishop Dubuis of the Diocese of Galveston approach the Holy Father about the significance of such events that the tradition of Eucharistic congresses began. These annual conventions which included Mass, devotions, preaching, and lectures began to have the desired effect of drawing people back to the truths of the Catholic Faith.
When the first one was held in the United States, anti-Catholicism was at its peak, which makes the statistics of this Congress held in Chicago on June 20, 1926 surprising even by 21st century standards. At one Mass celebrated at Soldier field the attendance was estimated at over 400,000. The choir of school children numbered 60,000. The overall attendance at the week-long congress numbered some 837,400. The logistics of the event make interesting reading. That was 94 years ago. Last year’s Congress drew about 100,000. I’m not great at math but I know that given the Catholic population now versus 1926, this is not an impressive turnout.
There is no easy answer to the troubling reality of this crises of unbelief. If it were as simple as maintaining and observing original holy days with great public liturgical spectacles, then Europe would be a stronghold of faithful Catholic observance. Not so. Perhaps we need someone to say: “enough is enough” and prompt a resurgence of Eucharistic piety. Or we could step up our own devotion and carefully teach our children about the true presence of our Lord in the tabernacle.
Does anyone remember the days when we stayed after Mass for prayers of thanksgiving? Does anyone remember when we were reverent and kept silence in the presence of Our Lord? Little things that can clue a new generation into the idea that the Catholic Church is not just any church.
Stay well,
Fr. Larry
Dear St. Theresa family,
As I have been kindly reminded by several, it was 35 years ago today that I said “yes”, and Bishop Harris ordained me and four other men to the presbyterate at St. Louis Church. I remember much about the day but most particularly my family. Seated on the front row were my parents whose love and support for my vocation was amazing. At several intervals during the very long ceremony I caught glances of them at times beaming and at times wiping a tear.
In retrospect I have thought about what brought them to that happy day in their life together. They were each brought up in observant Christian homes. My Mother Catholic and my father Presbyterian. They brought together the best of their upbringing; my mother’s experience of a loving mother and good Catholic schools and my dad’s faith transferred to him by his father who was a Teaching Elder. After 15 years of marriage, my dad, instructed by Fr. Charles Elmer, converted to the Catholic faith. By the time I hit the scene, ours was a committed and involved Catholic home. There in the family, that’s where my vocation started. I remember our parish as an extension of our home. The priest’s arrival in our house and sharing meals was always an occasion of happiness.
We were definitely “every Sunday Catholics” never missing holy days and always “doing something” around the parish. Church seemed to be very important, even vital to my parents. Sleeping in on Sunday was not an option. That was not, however a problem for me. I didn’t mind going to church as our parish was anything but dull. My mother’s preference was the High Mass which made quite an impact on me as the great drama of the Mass unfolded before us.
Looking back over the years I can see I was right to be deeply impressed, for High Mass at St. Joseph’s Bryan was indeed a very solemn spectacle and performed with great reverence. The choir loft was full, and dear old Gussie Shultz, who used to accompany silent films in the 20’s at the Queen theater downtown, rattled the windows at the organ. There wasn’t much congregational participation in those days, but we all went down like a field of corn before the wind at the ‘Incarnatus’ in the Creed. At the consecration there was a thrilling silence only broken by the tinkling of the bell when the Host was elevated. The silence was the more impressive after the ear-splitting volumes of sound during the singing of the Sanctus (Holy, Holy.)
There was a wonderful feeling of holiness and worship which, young as I was, conveyed itself to me. Never from that moment was there any difficulty about getting me to go to church and I loved every moment of it. One weekend we had to travel, and very early on Sunday I was unceremoniously evicted from my bed to attend the 7:30 a.m. at a neighboring parish. This unwelcome and irritating change was only matched by my disappointment in the no-frills Low Mass. The choir loft was empty, and Mrs. Schultz was nowhere to be seen. There were no clouds of incense and it seemed that many people came late and left early. That we did not follow the example set by them was the final blow in this parade of disappointments.
Later I discovered that not all parishes were like St. Joseph’s. Much of what happened to the Catholic church after the initial wave of Vatican Two was bewildering and (to me at least) uninspiring. But thanks to the seeds sown and the careful cultivation I received from my parents I weathered that tempest. I have many other memories of my upbringing as a Catholic, but none so strong as being together as family at Mass. I am spiritually indebted to my parents for putting God first. They were the ones who made sure the soil was well cultivated for the seed of vocation to take root. Now, 35 years later I celebrate two wonderful and dedicated disciples of Christ who never had trouble saying “no” to me but always, always said “yes” to God.
A word to all of the St. Theresa family who faithfully live and witness the love of Christ among us: thank you for daily making me glad that I said “yes.” Please pray for vocations.
Yours in Christ,
Fr. Larry
Dear St. Theresa family,
June is here and typically it is the month of weddings. Looking at the calendar I see no weddings over which to preside. There may be people getting married, but not here. A trend today is destination weddings. Another trend is no wedding at all. The idea that marriage is “just a piece of paper” reveals an attitude toward the institution born of disillusionment.
Traditional marriage has been under fire from outside forces for a long time. Living together is now a norm and no longer enjoys the benefit of societal disapproval. Research has shown that couples who live together and later decide to marry are fifty percent more likely to divorce and more frequently entertain the idea.
Thirty-five years of working with marriages has taught me a few things related to that. Many couples who elect to live together prior to marriage are doing so to discover if they are compatible. This used to be accomplished with courtship. The reality, however, is no different than that of a “test drive.” Leaving religion and the Christian theology of marriage out of the picture and pretending sin no longer exists or applies to enlightened people with no investment in a life of faith, it seems the purpose of living together is to avoid encumbrance in case either party wants to bail out. Other than who gets the dog there are few complications.
This is fine when each party knows and agrees ahead of time that they are being taken for a ride. Should they decide to marry later, that mentality that made living together an attractive alternative remains intact. The bond and covenant notwithstanding, couples avoid the hard work of “making” a marriage work and therefore leave, most often for reasons that could have been discovered during a courtship and resolved during marriage preparation. The other reason, and perhaps the one that has even greater significance, is the fact that nothing changes between living together and getting married. What do I mean? Marriage is a momentous event in life. What was, is no more and what will be is something completely new. In between is the wedding itself where there were two, who by virtue of a covenant become one.
In Mark 10:8 it says: “and the two shall become one flesh.” They began a relationship with an exit plan and in their minds are still only two people. The day before the wedding looks and feels like the day after. Nothing has really changed. The attitudes which led them to live together stay locked in place. So, when the going gets rough, and the going always gets rough, they revert to the plan when they first decided to live together. In truth living together accomplishes the opposite of what is hoped for and this is statistically proven.
Every couple faces trials in the course of a marriage. Many marriages begin to fail when communication fails. The causes of most fights are mundane, but these small things can turn into major issues. There are even moments when you wonder if you married the right person. If prayer has no place in the marriage, it misses the grace and power of a marriage that includes Christ as the third partner. His love is what helps a marriage endure the bumps and offers trust that things will get better.
Getting married is easy. Staying married is hard work. The secret is putting God first…after all he is a jealous God! (Exodus 20:5)
Grace and peace,
Fr. Larry
Dear St. Theresa family,
(a quick Friday Bible Study in preparation for Pentecost)
This Sunday is Pentecost and the birthday of the Church, when hear about strong winds, tongues of fire and people speaking different languages. Great images pointing to the power Christians will rely on as they get about the business of spreading the good news. Unlike Easter with weeks of bible texts to draw on Pentecost gives us only one day. Like Easter there is so much the New Testament says about the Spirit but only one day to say it. One of these we don’t get is John 7:37-39. Go read that.
C. S. Lewis said that we cannot try to understand everything Jesus says in a literal way. For instance, he once pointed out that when Jesus said we were to be like doves he did not intend us to lay eggs. That’s an obvious example of the kind of thing we deal with in the passage. Jesus has a big task. He is telling us of the ways of God, describing for us the kingdom of God. He is also describing how God deals with us, how the Holy Spirit communicates with our human spirits. We are the creation of God, but our spirits can wander far away from the Holy Spirit. It is this sense of separation which Jesus set out to fix. To do so he speaks in a way which was rich and powerful for his culture using words such as “like,” to compare things and he always uses direct and simple images for daily life.
One day, while speaking near the temple, he said, “If anyone thirsts let him come to me and drink.” For a Christian this is not merely a long-ago statement to a long-ago group; Jesus is saying this to us now, what does he mean?
In every human spirit there is a thirst for something…relationships, meaning, love. Whether we know it or not our deepest thirst is for God. He is saying that a relationship with him as Lord can help us find those other things. Jesus does not offer us a relationship with himself which is of itself, in some magically religious way, produces what we thirst for. Instead we come to realize that a relationship with Jesus helps us to approach the world and everyday life in such a way that we become capable of finding relationships, love, joy, and meaning in the things we experience and the people we encounter.
Notice what he says immediately afterward. He points out in vs. 38 that anyone who does drink in his spirit must not do so only to satisfy his or her own longings (read thirst). A relationship with Jesus is not for the sole purpose of what it gives us. We go after these things of our Lord so that we in turn can be grace to others.
Having gone to the spiritual well which Jesus can be for us, we are then to be a source of nourishment for those with whom we come in contact.
If you are coming to Mass this weekend wear something red!
Grace and peace,
Fr. Larry
Dear St. Theresa family,
With church back open people have queried me about coming back to worship. When asked if they should, I in turn asked: “Do you want to?” “No…yes… oh I just don’t know” they replied. “Stay home” I said and added: “Follow your conscience. The time is coming when you will know to come back to worship.” The change that came over her face was like one of those before and after pictures you see of people who used whatever product is guaranteed to make you look twenty years younger.
This uncertainty shouldn’t be surprising. What we hear is that the number of cases is down…no, it’s up…and there may be a second wave and yet people are encouraged to get out of the house. Things are opening up here and there while voices of authority say it’s too soon. In an atmosphere charged with conflicting information and the anxiety it produces, it is no surprise that folks are feeling pulled in two directions.
Our Bishop has not rescinded his dispensation, therefore anyone 65 and over or people with health concerns or immune deficiency and anyone who cares for someone who is vulnerable is encouraged to remain home and worship online. For all who feel they can return to worship, we are striving to create a welcoming atmosphere following recommended guidelines for seating, communion practices, and cleaning the building and will continue doing so.
Here’s a big shout out and thank you to parish volunteers who help make all this possible. They arrive early and stay late ensuring the best experience possible. Thanks to all our parishioners who have shown remarkable patience. Being told where to sit and when to leave is annoying, but also know it’s not forever.
The teachers have been here today sorting and organizing and getting the school ready for when they return in August. They deserve accolades for the extraordinary way in which they quickly switched gears and brought our motto of “Excellence in Education” to an online format. Kudos to parents who sacrificed to make things happen at home.
Congratulations to our 8th grade students who look forward to what’s next and thanks to all our students for daily cooperation and everyone else for rolling with the punches.
Our Interim Principal Rachel Eckert has been the primary architect of this experience and will be leaving us next month and so we send her off with a debt of gratitude for the many ways she has made all the difference. In June we will welcome our new head of school Brian Wheeler and his family to St. Theresa.
God’s still in charge and things are getting better! Now go wash your hands.
Grace and peace,
Fr. Larry
Dear St. Theresa family,
Memorial Day is in our rear view mirror and hopefully it was a good time of family, friends and remembrance. On the subject of friends, the isolation we have experienced over the past few months has been trying on friendships. We have taken advantage of social media and zoom to stay connected and that has been a help talking with friends from all over knowing the experience and situation is the same almost everywhere. We don’t often consider how important our friends are. I have heard comments like: “I’d be lost without my friends” and “My friends keep me sane” among others. Friends are an essential part of life. They keep us connected, hold us accountable, offer encouragement and overlook our annoying foibles.
I met up recently with Mark my best friend growing up. He’s a physician so I pumped him for his opinions about our current pandemic and then we talked about his kids and grandkids and people we knew. One of the ways friends keep us connected is by tying us to the past. We have known each other since grade school and even though we rarely see or talk to one another it was interesting how quickly we reverted to the incomplete sentences and short-hand way of speaking we used during our high school years. Even as our lives have taken us in different directions, we revel in this relationship. Our shared history grounds me and gives me a sense of where I’ve come from.
Friends also connect us to the present and they help us deal with reality. Ready to banish your children to the garage with out a cellphone or video games? Call a friend, Think your spouse is having an affair? Time for coffee. Depressed that you cannot fit into the clothes you wore before the pandemic? Talk to someone who’s been there, worn that. Friends give us perspective when we have been too close to a situation… “You want me to hold him while you hit him?” When colleagues and acquaintances can seem unsympathetic or dismissive, friends come to the rescue and no one else can celebrate your triumphs like your friends because they know exactly what it took for you to succeed.
The bible has some things to share about the values of friendships. Read Ruth chapter 1:16-17. The story of Ruth and Naomi after the death of her husband and sons is touching and tells us of the holy possibilities in friendship. It tells us of the healing that can happen in the midst of tragedy.
As he goes to the cross, Jesus gives his disciples a new identity. “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” A friend is someone like Jesus who can wholeheartedly revel in the success of another, someone who wants to see us grow. In this way friendship is the smallest unit of Christian community and identity, the place where grace hits the ground.
Be well and blessed,
Fr. Larry