Archive for October, 2014|Monthly archive page


(Various readings may be used)

Solemnity of All Saints Readings

The Commemoration of All Dearly Departed (All Souls), November 2


Has anyone you love died? How do you deal with the death? This Saturday and Sunday, the church comes together to celebrate the memory of all those who have gone before us. This weekend we depart from Ordinary Time and celebrate the Feasts of All Saints and All Souls. We remember all those who are our ancestors in the Faith. Whether you are newly bereaved or have been dealing with the loss for some time, this weekend is a time to remember and be reminded of the basic truths of our faith.

Remember and remind? If you sit open and vulnerable under the Liturgy of the Word, you will have both experiences. You might both smile and shed a tear. Both emotions are acceptable. And when it comes time for the renewal of faith you will be strengthened as you profess your belief in the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting.

For nearly 50 years as a priest, it has been my honor to preside at many, many funerals. As each funeral began, I felt honored to represent the church in greeting mourners as they bore the body of a loved one into the worship space for the Liturgy. We met at the Font and these were the first words spoken as I sprinkled the body with baptismal water: I bless N.’s body with the holy water that recalls his/her baptism of which the Apostle Paul writes: All of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death. By Baptism into his death we were buried together with him, so that just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live a new life. For if we have been united with him by likeness to his death, so shall we be united with Christ by likeness to his resurrection.

The mourners would be in varying degrees of composure depending on whether the death had been sudden and out of due time or expected, whether the deceased was a youth or of advanced years. No matter. Death is the greatest challenge to faith. Each person has to ask: What do I believe has happened here? Each time I would hand the white pall to the family and assist them in dressing the coffin with the reminder of the garment that clothed the deceased that day when s/he came out of the waters that are tomb and mother. The Easter Candle was borne aloft as we processed through the Assembly to the area of Tables of the Word and the Eucharist. Many times we sang Amazing Grace as we followed the Candle that attests to the faith-fact that death has no lasting victory. The dead will rise with Christ in glory.

The truths we cling to during individual funerals are the truths we proclaim regarding all the Saints and the Faithful departed whose feast we celebrate this weekend. It is important that we are reminded. Remembering is at the heart of our faith experience. That is what Eucharist is about. Remembering.

In this context I often meditate on the experience of the two disciples on that first Easter day as they made their way to a village named Emmaus. Jesus’ crucifixion that they witnessed shattered them and their faith and their hope that Jesus would be the one who would set Israel free. Death broke them until the Risen one invited them and us to see the crucifixion, indeed all that Jesus suffered, from a new perspective, that of their faith tradition as it is found in the Scriptures. In that context the Risen One asked: Did not the Messiah, the Christ, have to suffer these things and so enter into glory?

Over these many years I have come to believe that the Risen One invites us to contemplate our faith each time we are confronted with the reality of death. We are to remember our tradition as it is contained in Word and Sacrament. Remembering, we will still mourn, but the mourning is pierced through with hope. Where, O Death, is your victory? Where is your sting? The hearts of believers burn in recognition of the truth and their hope is renewed. Because of that conversation on the road to Emmaus, we now know and believe that suffering is no longer a punishment for sin; neither is death. Just think about it. Why else would an instrument of excruciating suffering become for Christians a sign of hope? We glory in Christ’s cross.

Enter into these feasts. If you are so inclined, celebrate them both. These are negative and difficult times in which we live. In light of all the horrors, we can fear that our own faith, like that of the two disciples, will be broken. These Liturgies can cause our hearts to burn within us as we are reminded and our faith can be renewed.

Pope Francis on this feast last year said: We reflect and think about our own future and about all those who have gone before us and are now with the Lord. The Lord God, beauty, goodness, truth, tenderness, the fullness of love – all that awaits us… And all those who preceded us and died in the Lord are there,” in heaven with God.

“If today we are remembering those brothers and sisters of ours who lived before us and are now in heaven, they are there because they were washed in the blood of Christ. That is our hope, and this hope does not disappoint. If we live our lives with the Lord, he will never disappoint us.” Remember. Believe. The feasts of All Saints and All Souls are days of hope. Pope Francis said, “The virtue of hope is lie a bit of leaven that enlarges your soul. There are difficult moments in life, but with hope you go forward and keep your eyes on what awaits us. Today is a day of hope; our brothers and sisters are in the presence of God, and we, too, will be there in the Lord’s arms if we follow the path of Jesus.”

This is not meant to be negative. Please do not take it that way. I would recommend that as we celebrate these Feasts, we take a moment to reflect on our own deaths. If we live in the hope of the joy we will experience as we are welcomed by the Lord, we have nothing to fear in dying.

There was a period when it was my privilege to serve as chaplain for children dying with leukemia. Many times I witnessed a child instructing his/her parents on what was really happening. One child told his terrified and grieving parents that he had had a dream. When his parents asked what he had dreamt, he said, “Jesus told me he is building me a house and it is nearly finished.” That dream soon was their consolation.

So it is that we always proceed from the Liturgy of the Word to the Liturgy of Eucharist. We take bread, bless it and break it. We take a cup and bless and distribute it. We hear Jesus command us: Do this in my memory. And we recognize him in the breaking of the Bread.

Death, where is your victory? Death, where is your sting? Faith makes the difference. We weep when someone we love dies. But Paul urges us to not yield to grief, as those do who have no hope. Our commemorations this weekend are of all those who have died in Christ. Our sure and certain hope is that they, in Christ, will rise again. And so one day, as God wills in Christ, will we who walk with Christ on the Way.




A reading from the Book of Exodus 22:20-26

A reading from St. Paul’s first Letter to the Thessalonians 1:5c-10

A reading from the holy Gospel according to Matthew 22:34-40


Nothing stirs God’s wrath as much as does the exploitation and abuse of the vulnerable. The Law expressed in the Exodus reading for this Sunday calls for death by the sword for anyone who molests or oppresses an alien or wrongs any widow or orphan. God will wield the sword. God forbids extorting the poor through demands of interest on loans. Even a cloak offered by the poor man as a pledge of repayment must be returned to him by sundown lest the person have to face the chill of the night with nothing to protect him from the cold. Beware! God protects the widow, the orphan, and the poor. The obvious point to be made is that God’s protection of these little and vulnerable ones ought to be manifested in the attitudes of the abler Jews toward them. God admonishes the people with a motive for caring for the poor. They should remember their own vulnerability when they were aliens in the land of Egypt.

We are in very dangerous territory as we sit beneath the readings for this Thirtieth Sunday. Watch how tempting it is to think of just whom these readings must be warning and so be confident that they do not address us – unless, of course, we are numbered among the orphaned, the widowed, the poor, or the aliens. For the vulnerable the readings are a safety net, a guarantee that there will be some in the faith community we call church who will respond to their needs.

Jesus remains in the same hot seat he was in in last week’s Gospel. The Pharisees continue to try to find something with which to charge him, even if that would be ignorance of the Law. What tone, do you suppose, did the scholar use when he asked his question? Teacher, which commandment in the Law is the greatest? It should be noted that the question is not unusual, given its context. The Pharisees spent hours in such discussions and theoretical arguments involving the Law. Jesus answers without a pause and quotes Deuteronomy and Leviticus’ mandates with which his accusers would be well familiar. You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment. The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. The whole Law and the prophets depend on these two commandments.

We have heard this answer from Jesus many times and more than likely can quote it verbatim from memory. That can be dangerous. You know what familiarity breeds, don’t you? You see, the question before us now is, what are we going to do with these commandments. How are we going to live them? Will it dawn on us that we cannot fulfill the first one and ignore the second? Aye, there’s the rub, to quote the Bard. Very pious and religious people might think they are fulfilling God’s Law through lives of faithful Mass attendance, prayer and throwing in a little fasting for good measure. Jesus might say: I beg to differ.

The operative word in both commandments is the verb to love. One can argue whether love can be commanded. Still, it seems that, regarding the first commandment Jesus cites, God does want his people to love God with their entire beings. Perhaps if they remember all that God did for them and continues to do, that love will be their response. The fact of the matter is, that’s the way God loves them, with God’s entire being. We don’t squirm often when we are admonished to love God. Even if the preacher harangues a bit, we don’t mind. After all, you can’t love God too much.

We must not miss an important note here. In his response to the scholar, Jesus links the two commandments, in effect making them one. In other words, Jesus is saying you cannot fulfill the first commandment without striving to carry out the second. Love, again. Dare we hear the standard that is applied in the commandment? You shall love your neighbor as yourself. How much do you love yourself? How much do I? How is this expressed practically? That practicality is the measure or standard for the practical love Jesus commands us to have for our neighbor. And this is where our stares are apt to become glazed.

Do you remember what Eliza Doolittle sang to Freddie, in My Fair Lady? Don’t talk of love. Show me! Jesus may well be saying something like that to us. Don’t talk about loving God. Don’t talk about loving our neighbor. Show me in imitation of the way I love. Jesus loves through service. Jesus loves by pouring out himself. Jesus loves by giving his body and blood as food and drink. Remembering that may help us see why celebrating Eucharist defines us and is at the heart of our faith response. Doing Eucharist should translate into living Eucharist.

John Paul II admonished the Church to exercise a fundamental option for the poor. Hear today’s Exodus reading in the pope’s words? Before him, Paul VI shocked people by questioning anyone’s right to excess wealth while the poor lack essential wealth. John XXII reminded us that all people are created by God and are brothers and sisters in the human family.

Today the world is astonished by much of what Pope Francis says and does. In a nutshell, he continually says, It is all about love. The church’s vocation in today’s world is to love as Christ does. He calls for a poorer church serving the needs of the poor. He upholds the dignity and worth of all people, even those many in the church would shun. Are homosexuals essentially disordered, or do they have dignity? Can there be something honorable and sacred about their love? Can’t a better job be done in welcoming divorced and remarried Catholics? Is artificial birth control really anti life? And shouldn’t the voice of the church be a clearer clarion ringing out on social justice issues? Is there a reason why so many are leaving the church and many others are ignoring the bishops’ proclamations? Could it be that today’s Gospel is not being heard in those proclamations?

We can be very good at throwing up barriers of self-defense that shield us from the Word’s full impact. You know as well as I do, that classes of people tend to consort with others of the same class. As I write this, some pundits are discussing a new statistic. The wealthiest among us are giving less to charity than are the less wealthy and even the poor. There aren’t many of the elite that hobnob with the poor. If they stick to their own they can be deluded into thinking that everyone lives in their kind of comfort and splendor.

Parishes can be as monochromatic, especially those situated in finer neighborhoods. I’m reminded of a book that had some popularity some years ago: The Church of the Padded Pew. It is difficult for a parish whose membership is almost exclusively of one race and of an upper middle financial bracket to reflect the Body of Christ, without reaching out and drawing in. Where are the poor? Where are the disabled? The Widows? The orphans? The aliens?

We sit at the Table of the Word to be nourished, but we must hunger for the Word in order to be fed by it. That might mean lowering the barriers and making ourselves vulnerable to the Word. Dare we ask: What would you have me do? What altering of my value system are you looking for? Saints in our family tree have asked those questions and were never the same afterwards. Think of Ignatius. Think of Camillus. Think of Elizabeth Anne Seton and Theresa of Avila and Mother Teresa of Calcutta and countless others. Then there is Vincent de Paul. And don’t forget Damien of Molokai. The list goes on and on. All of them are canonized or about to be because to a wonderful degree their love for God expressed itself in a love for the poor and expressed itself in service of the poor. Damien rejoiced the day he could address his flock as my fellow lepers.

In a few short weeks we will be celebrating the last Sunday of the Liturgical Year. The Gospel then will be Matthew’s Day of the Lord, the day of final Judgment. I won’t comment on it here. But spending some time with that text as you hear Jesus voice the two great commandments might enrich you. It always does that for me.

So we proceed to the table of the Eucharist to enter into the Lord’s dying and rising. We don’t do that alone. We can’t do that alone. It is never my Eucharist. It is always our Eucharist. We gather with the poor, the orphans, the widows, the gays, both genders and multi races and become one with them to be formed and transformed.

It is then that we will recognize the family we are in Christ and will know the measure of the love we ought to live.




A reading from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah 45:1, 4-6

A reading from St. Paul’s first Letter to the Thessalonians 1:1-5

A reading from the holy Gospel according to Matthew 22:15-21



The hearers should be stunned when they listen to the opening passage of Isaiah’s prophecy in this Sunday’s first reading. Thus says the Lord to his anointed, Cyrus, whose right hand I grasp. The Hebrew word for anointed is the origin of the word Messiah that becomes, by way of the Greek, Christ. The Jews revered this powerful and significant concept. The fact that a Prophet of God would call any Gentile the anointed of God is astounding.

Who was Cyrus? He was the Persian king whose armies routed the Babylonians, those who had held the Israelites in captivity, enslaving them even as their ancestors had been enslaved in Egypt. It was the Babylonians that had destroyed Jerusalem and the Temple. For the sake of Jacob, my servant, of Israel my chosen one, I have called you (Cyrus) by your name, giving you a title, though you knew me not. God knew Cyrus intimately and chose him, the Prophet said, and through him brought about the deliverance of Judah that would result in their being able to return to Jerusalem. Whether Cyrus ever knew of his favorable standing with Israel’s God is not important. The lesson is that God is in charge and can choose even a Gentile, even a non-believer, to accomplish God’s will.

To illustrate the point, think of the horror of the Holocaust. In large numbers, Jewish people among others were enslaved in the prison camps, having been taken from their homes and their way of life and shipped off in boxcars to be enslaved in the holding camps where torture and extermination reigned. Skies darkened with the smoke from the crematoria’s chimneys. Over six million were gassed and hundreds of thousands slowly starved to death. Whether or not Cyrus had a counterpart during that terrible time, the eyes of faith recognized God working through the allied forces as they brought about Judah’s deliverance, freed the survivors, and allowed them to return home.

Faith is a gift, the result of God’s grace achieving its purpose in people. We say we believe. That is not as a result of anything we have done. It is a result of grace and our allowing grace to reign in us. Paul said that in practically every salutation he wrote to the various churches even as he does in today’s greeting to the Thessalonians. God chose the Thessalonians – and the Galatians and the Romans and the Corinthians and the Philippians – through Paul’s preaching. In varying degrees the churches responded with the work of faith and labor of love and endurance in hope of our Lord Jesus Christ.

A crisis of faith occasioned this letter to the Thessalonians that rose from their understanding from Paul’s preaching that they would live to see the day of the Lord, the day of Christ’s return in glory. But some of their members were dying and that day had not been realized. Others were foregoing marriage and work, content to idle the days away as they awaited that day. Paul reminds them of their faith and urges them to live in hope. Hope has been defined as the confident assurance (the word confident means with faith) that nothing will separate us from the love of God that is ours in Christ Jesus. To live in faith means the Thessalonians will remember that God loves them. The challenge is to live in that love day by day in their various labors all the while believing the Good News Paul announced. Hope in the Lord Jesus. He will not disappoint. Paul preached to them in earnest, inspired by the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit will empower them to be faithful to the end – even if they do not live to see the day of the Lord’s return.

You believe with that same faith of the Thessalonians. In these difficult times the challenge is to live with the hope, that in spite of all the contrary signs that assail us. You are loved by God. God chose you. The Holy Spirit empowers you to believe that Jesus is Lord. Through your Baptism you have put on Christ and been endowed with the Priesthood of the Baptized. You believe that the church is the People of God. Pope Francis’s preaching regarding this angers many as he calls for a poorer church serving the needs of the poor. He challenges the shepherds of the church and us to stand and serve in the midst of the sheep and to smell like them. He demonstrates by the feet he washes that gender and faith do not exclude those whose feet should be washed, those to be served.

Pope Francis reminds you that through your Baptism you have put on Christ and been endowed with the Priesthood of the Baptized. You are called to full, active, and conscious participation in the celebration of Eucharist. Your labors contribute to the building up of the Kingdom. You hasten the day of the Lord’s glorious return. Francis reiterates Paul’s message that it is about love, loving as Jesus loves. It is about serving, serving as Jesus serves. If you are willing to love and to serve the other, the poor and the disenfranchised, the shunned, the off scouring of society, you will see Jesus there and know where hope resides.

Former president Bill Clinton works with Bill and Melinda Gates and their foundation in a hands-on charitable work with AIDS patients in Africa. Their service seems genuine. Their hope is to find a cure and alleviate suffering. Whether they are people of faith is immaterial. The Believers being ministered to recognize God working through them and just they might come to see Christ in those little ones whose needs they serve.

One of the evening newscasts concludes most evenings with a segment titled: Making a difference. Almost invariably, the stories are of ordinary people doing extraordinary things to ease the sufferings of others – cancer patients, the hungry, the disabled, injured veterans. When you see the smiles radiate from the recipients of the loving service, you will recognize people responding the Holy Spirit, loving and serving the most needy among us.

Pardon this aside. As I write this, I think of the item in the morning news that says the wealthiest in the nation are giving less of their wealth to charities than the less wealthy and even the poor. What does that say to us?

Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not? Whichever option Jesus selects will entrap him. Either he will be seen as opposing the Romans and so opening him to crucifixion as an enemy of the state; or he will be opposing the Jews and opening him to being stoned. Show me the coin. They must have wondered how he knew they would have the coin since it bore the image of Caesar and therefore was something they should not handle or have part in. Looking at the coin proffered in their hands and then into their eyes, he asked them: Whose image is this and whose inscription?

When they acknowledge that the image and inscription are Caesar’s, Jesus impales them on the horns of a dilemma. Then repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God. The challengers, supposedly, are men of faith, followers of the Law. From that perspective what can possibly belong to Caesar and therefore be repaid when everything belongs to God?

It’s easy to say gotcha! But I don’t think that is the point that Jesus is making. Rather, the challenge is to be what they profess to be. Faith does not result in a life lived apart from the world. Jesus challenges us to look at the world through the eyes of faith and to endorse God’s omnipotence and love for all, even the untouchables. Jesus would be condemned for eating with tax collectors and prostitutes and other categories of sinners. That’s almost as bad as handling a coin with the image of Caesar on it.

If we hear the Gospel we cannot be indifferent. We will have to decide one way or the other, to love or not to love. To walk with Jesus on the way is to decide and to realize that the faith life is lived in a complex world peopled by those who believe and by those who do not. It is to live in a world of political regimes. And for the believer, the constant question centers about what belongs to Caesar and what belongs to God. Then they must act accordingly, and to act with love.

Here’s a question to consider. We transition from the Liturgy of the Word to the Liturgy of the Eucharist. Is it your experience that all are welcome to gather with you? Are all welcomed to the Table of the Word and the Table of the Bread and Wine? Are some turned away and told they are not worthy? Are some shunned? What would Jesus say about that? For that matter, what is Pope Francis saying about that?