Since the coronavirus has stopped most (all?) public gatherings, it forced my parish into cancelling my in-person Examen Prayer Retreat that was supposed to be today. I wasn’t going to let a little thing like being in-person get in the way of the retreat, though! I’ve recorded my retreat talks and put together a page for the retreat. It includes a schedule for watching the videos, reflection, and prayer. It also includes information on other resources where you can go deeper into the Examen Prayer.
The retreat takes about two hours long, and is available by clicking here.
All sorts of things are shut down right now, and many of us are left trying to fill the time. One excellent thing to do during this time is to regularize our prayer lives. If we aren’t happy with our current practices of prayer, change them! That doesn’t mean we should be fickle and change our way of praying every single day; however, it can be good to have a little variety from season to season.
One good practice we can take up during Lent is the ancient practice of praying the Seven Penitential Psalms. For many centuries, they were a part of priests’ daily prayers during Lent. These were prayed kneeling and with an antiphon at the beginning and end.
I’ve begun praying these psalms recently, partially because I have a bit more free time due to the Coronavirus cancelling many of my meetings, but also because it is also helpful to remember where we stand before God. The penitential psalms help us to recognize that we all struggle to follow God in our daily life.
I have included links to the Penitential Psalms in English. I am unable to include them directly due to copyright concerns. I have also put together a page for both the English and the Latin version of these psalms. Click here to visit that page.
The Penitential Psalms
Note: the words in italics are instructions to assist in praying these psalms.
Begin with the first antiphon: Do not remember, O Lord, our offenses, or those of our parents. Do not take vengeance for our sins.
Pray the psalm:Psalm 6 End the psalm by praying the Glory Be: Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.
Pray the psalm:Psalm 32 End the psalm by praying the Glory Be.
Pray the psalm:Psalm 38 End the psalm by praying the Glory Be.
Pray the psalm:Psalm 51 End the psalm by praying the Glory Be.
Pray the psalm:Psalm 102 End the psalm by praying the Glory Be.
Pray the psalm:Psalm 130 End the psalm by praying the Glory Be.
Pray the psalm:Psalm 143 End the psalm by praying the Glory Be.
Repeat the initial antiphon: Do not remember, O Lord, our offenses, or those of our parents. Do not take vengeance for our sins.
Because of the coronavirus, at Blessed Sacrament we’re doing our best to allow people to pray the Mass even if they cannot physically be there. One of the way’s we’re doing that is by streaming as often as possible on our parish Facebook page. I’ve included today’s Mass, which I celebrated, in this post. The Mass begins at time 3:30 in the video.
During Lent, we intensify our efforts to grow closer to God. We fast, pray and give alms, just as Jesus taught us in today’s Gospel. These are things we must do. Humanity has turned away from God. We all have sinned and turned from God—sometimes intentionally, sometimes not. Psalm 51 speaks to all of these types of sin. It uses three different Hebrew words: פשׁע (pesha), חטאה (chatta’ah), עוון (‘ă·wōn). Each of these expresses a different type of sin. I wasn’t able to find my notes from 4 years ago, but if I remember correctly: עוון refers to a general condition of sin within humanity, חטאה refers to sin committed unintentionally—sort of a side effect of human nature, and פשׁע refers to sin committed intentionally. (I’m fairly sure the words and the definitions are right, and I’m pretty sure that’s how they line up, but I’m not 100% sure!) These are all different ways we get turned around and separated from God. We need help turning back to God. The prophet Joel tells us all—the children, the elderly, those literally just married, even infants—to cry out, “Spare, O Lord, your people!” If the Lord does not forget the cry of the poor, neither will he forget the cry of his children who, poor in spirit, turn back to him.
Jesus today tells us how to make that turn back to him prayer, fasting, and alms-giving. And he tells us how to do each of these things. We are supposed to do all of these things in private, so that others cannot see them. In fact, Jesus takes it one step further: when we fast, we are supposed to anoint our head, wash our face, and no appear to be fasting. It’s as if he wants us to undertake these penances joyfully.
It may seem odd, but there is, actually, a logic to it. Let me explain. Prayer, fasting, and alms-giving clear space out of hearts, getting rid of all the cruft that has been building up: attachments to material things, over-concern about our bodies (see Matthew 6:25-34), or things we have allowed to take God’s place. We clear out all those things that get in between us and God. When we empty out that space, though, we need to fill it up with something. If we fill it up with the praise and adulation of those around us, what good would any penance do? What good would all this work do? We’d be no better off than the hypocrites Jesus talks about in the Gospel today. Instead, we do these things in secret, and offer them to God, so that He can fill up our heart. In addition to the great practice of giving things up, we should add additional time for prayer and the Sacraments during Lent, so that we are filling that space we spent all that energy to clear with God. God is the source of all our joy, and if we are full of him, how can we help but be joyful? Fasting, prayer, alms-giving—these things are not easy, but they clean out our hearts and open them to God, they give us more room for God to work in our lives: of course we’ll be more joyful, because God lives within us!
This is, in fact, what we must do to fulfill what God has asked us to
do. Paul, in the second reading, reminds us that we are to be ambassadors for Christ. We must allow God to appeal to others through us. We must be lights, shining brightly with God’s love and his joy and his mercy. What better way is there to do that then to clear out all the junk from our hearts and let God fill it?
Now is an acceptable time, now is the day of salvation. This Lent, let’s do something a bit hard, to truly open up our hearts to God. The collect today was so excellent, it said “Grant, O Lord, that we may begin with holy fasting this campaign of Christian service, so that, as we take up battle against spiritual evils, we may be armed with weapons of self-restraint.” (Emphasis is mine.) This is our campaign of Christian service, by which Christ sends us to do battle with evil. We pray, fast, and give alms, so we get everything between us and God out of the way and go forth as joyful witnesses and ambassadors for God.
Today’s Readings February 26, 2020 Ash Wednesday Joel 2:12-18; Psalm 51:3-4, 5-6ab, 12-13, 14 & 17; 2 Corinthians 5:20-6:2; Matthew 6:1-6, 16-18
I am so lucky that I’m the tax collector in this story. Every time I read it, I remember how humble, honest, and good-natured I am. What a relief it is to not be like the rest of humanity! like that Pharisee! Oh wait…
It is easy to fall into the trap of thinking like the Pharisee in today’s Gospel. We love to compare ourselves to one another. We love to think, “I am the best.” Somewhat perversely, we also love noticing how much better others have it—or at least seem to have it. We can’t stop measuring ourselves by others around us. We look at things like a person’s wealth, fashion sense, physical beauty, possessions, or even moral sensibility, and we get it into our heads that they are better or worse than us. This is the poison of comparison. It is exemplified by the Pharisee in today’s Gospel. If we’re really honest with ourselves, I bet we can all find this in ourselves. I certainly catch myself doing it. What can we do to fight this evil that we’re drawn to?
We must take the hard medicine of humility. We must ask God to help us. We have to spend some time in prayer every day, and we must spend a part of that time asking God to help us grow in virtues, such as humility. This isn’t something we can choose to do or not to do. We must pray. We must ask God’s assistance. It is the only way to conquer the rebellious heart, caused by original sin, that lies within each of us. We must approach God in the silence of our hearts with humility, recognizing that He is God, and we are not God. We didn’t create ourselves, this universe or anything: He did. After we acknowledge this fact, then we approach him and ask him to assist us.
This might sound like a lot of extra work compared to our normal prayer. Why must I acknowledge my lowliness before God? Doesn’t he love me? Shouldn’t he answer my prayers either way? Fair questions, but I would point us all to today’s first reading. It is an incredibly hopeful reading for us, so long as we recognize who we are before God.
The LORD is a God of justice, who knows no favorites. This first sentence reminds us that God will not be fooled. He does not play favorites, but judges each of us on our own actions, not of those around us. Simply calling ourselves a part of his chosen people won’t work. Claiming to belong to his Church will not buy us Heaven if we do not live our faith through our actions, by following God’s law and actively participating in our shared mission to save the world from sin. Though not unduly partial toward the weak, yet he hears the cry of the oppressed. The Lord is not deaf to the wail of the orphan, nor to the widow when she pours out her complaint. Again, God doesn’t play favorites. Even the poor will be judged on their actions when they meet God; however, those who receive poor treatment in this world do have his ear while they are here. God loves us all, and when he sees us mistreating one of his children, God takes notice.
The one who serves God willingly is heard; his petition reaches the heavens. God also pays special attention to those who are in his service on this world. When we serve God willingly and share in his mission, we can be assured our prayers reach the Heavens. Remember that line in the Our Father? Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven. When we serve the Lord willingly, we are implementing God’s will on Earth, and He will surely help us with that task. The prayer of the lowly pierces the clouds; it does not rest till it reaches its goal, nor will it withdraw till the Most High responds, judges justly and affirms the right, and the Lord will not delay. When we serve the Lord’s mission, when we follow his will, when we recognize who we are in relation to God, we can be assured that nothing will stop our prayer from reaching Heaven. It will reach Heaven, and we are guaranteed that God will answer it. Not only will he answer it, but he will answer it with his justice, which is also his love and his mercy. He will answer it without delay, for God knows the needs of his children. He knows that we are mortals, and our days are like grass; they flourish like a flower of the field; for the wind passes over it, and it is gone, and its place knows it no more. (Psalm 103:15-16)
The tax collector today recognizes his lowliness before God, and he knows that all he can truthfully and honestly say before God is O God, be merciful to me, a sinner. As we follow Paul’s example and follow God in this race we run towards eternal life, let us acknowledge our lowliness and ask God for his help. By following God and keeping ourselves close to Him through humble prayer, we can rest sure in knowing what Paul knew: The Lord will rescue me from every evil threat and will bring me safe to his heavenly kingdom.
To him be glory forever and ever. Amen.
Today’s Readings: October 27, 2019 30th Sunday of Ordinary Time, Year C Sirach 35:12-14, 16-18; Psalm 34; 2 Timothy 4:6-8, 16-18; Luke 18:9-14
If God could find
even 10 innocent people within the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, he would have
let them remain. I’d encourage you to read the rest of the story if you haven’t.
Parents, just a warning, if it were a movie, it would be rated “R.” But as we
continue to read the story, we find a few things: how a certain sin got its
name, just how bad things were in those cities, and that—even after all
Abraham’s pleading—God did destroy the cities. God is incapable of
lying: similar to a square circle, it doesn’t even make sense to describe God
as a liar—he is the essence of truth. If God did destroy Sodom and Gomorrah,
and he did make that promise to Abraham, that means he could not find even 10
people in those cities capable of being saved. “For the sake of those ten, I
will not destroy it.”
Friends, I am
concerned about our world today. Our societies seem to be plunging deeper and
deeper into sin. There is so much confusion and sin around sexuality, the
meaning of life, and simple basic morality that our society has, sadly, grown
used to sin. It cannot stay this way. We cannot simply stand by
and let it stay this way. As Catholics, as Christians who follow Christ, as
human beings who love our neighbors, we cannot stand idly by and allow society
to destroy itself. We know that God is infinitely merciful to those who follow
him. He saved Lot’s family, the only innocent one in Sodom and Gomorrah;
however, that does not mean he is not just. Lot’s wife, after having been
warned of the destruction of the cities, why they were being destroy, and the
consequences of turning back to the cities, was turned into a pillar of salt for
turning away from God. Despite what many of the academic elites, the media, the
politicians tell us: there is a God, there are universal truths, and there are universal moral norms by
which we are bound. Despite what society would have us believe, every action
we take matters. We do not get to start the level over as if life was a
game or something like that. We do not have the luxury of getting a second try
when we pass on from this life. We have one life, and the actions of this life
have eternal consequences for our souls. As a side note, this is one reason
that confession is so critically important for our souls—it is, in
effect, a reset button for our lives, which allows us to cast off our sins and
start back over on our path toward God. Sin is serious business: we must cast
it out of our lives.
Brothers and sisters, it is not just our lives at stake.
Our Lord called us to be the ones to lead others to him. Each of us was called
to make disciples and to teach the faith, because every single person on this
planet is in the same, eternally serious situation. If they aren’t Catholic Christians,
they might not even recognize the stakes. While God won’t hold what they are
incapable of knowing against them, they are capable of knowing universal
truths. Everybody must follow those. If they are Christians, they are in a
particularly dangerous situation. At our baptisms, we became bound to follow
God in a uniquely Christian way. The Church knows the high standards to which
God holds us, and those who refuse to follow her are refusing her help in
reaching those standards. It is an even more precarious situation for those who
have fallen away from their Catholic faith. Frankly, they have turned away from
the mercy God is willing to offer, because, for one reason or another, they
think the world has offers something better. These poor people have thrown away
the “reset” button that God offers us through Confession, and they’ve denied
the love God wishes to offer them in the Eucharist at Mass.
So what can we do about it? I know what we can’t do.
We cannot sit idly by and allow our society to fall apart. We cannot sit idly
by and allow our neighbors—who we are called to love—to turn away from God. We must
We can start by getting our own lives in order. The first
step is prayer. The Gospel today teaches us how to pray. In the Lords prayer,
Jesus teaches us what we should ask God to give us: freedom from sin and
the strength to follow his will. In the following parable, he teaches us how
we should pray: persistently. Make time to pray. Included in prayer is the
sacraments. Make use of confession, and attend Mass, at a minimum, every
Sunday. There is nothing you could possibly be doing that is more important
than going to Mass on Sunday. Sleeping in, sports, work—these things must
be second in our lives to God. He really is that important.
Just by getting our lives in order, we bear witness to
Christ, but we can’t stop there. Our faith must inform our every moment, our every
decision. We have to read and learn about our faith so that we can respond to
others who ask about it, and so that we can understand it ourselves—especially
in those areas where we harbor doubts about Church teaching. The Church is
right, and sometimes our emotional attachments to this world—and even to other
people—prevent us from comprehending the beauty and consistency of Church
teachings. We must stand up for what is good and right, publicly, even—no,
especially—if it is hard. As if that weren’t a great enough challenge, we must
do all these things with charity. It doesn’t help to beat others over the head
with a Bible, but it also doesn’t help if we never bring up God and his
Brothers and sisters, Jesus Christ and his Church need you. They need you to spread the Gospel, to stand up for the truth, to be beacons of light in a world darkened by sin. It is not just Jesus and his Church who need you. My brother priests and I also need you, because we cannot do this by ourselves. We need your help. You can reach people we can’t. When Jesus ascended, he left us in charge. The Spirit will be with us to help us, but we have been given the task to must teach the world to hallowed God’s name. We must help God’s kingdom come into the world. We must receive our daily sustenance from God. We must forgive others and help them to forgive. We must work to convert the world, teaching everyone around us to live their lives in a way that they are never subjected to the final test.
Note: This was written and preached for the weekend of July 27-28, 2019. It was published online on August 14, 2019.
Today’s Readings: July 28, 2019 17th Sunday of Ordinary Time Genesis 18:20-32; Psalm 138; Colossians 2:12-14; Luke 11:1-13
Note: Sorry for the (very late) posting of this homily.
Nearly every time I read this weekend’s Gospel, I find it incredibly frustrating. Martha is trying to be a good host, but she’s struggling to get everything done. She is obviously frustrated that her sister Mary doesn’t come to help. I feel her pain, as it seems many hosts across the country do. I must admit to you all, I have a subscription to Bon Appétit magazine. When I got tired of reading German theologians arguing about whether “People of God” or “Body of Christ” was a better image of the Church in seminary, (pro tip: it’s both!) I switched to lighter fare like Bon Appétit to give my brain a little break. From this scholarly journal, I’ve learned that hosting a dinner party or the holidays is on the same levels of stress as a root canal. If I remember correctly, the Christmas issue last year had a multi-week plan of attack for how to host a stress-free Christmas party for family.
What I’m getting at, I suppose, is that hosting people who
come over to your house is hard. I’ve seen the trouble people go to when they
invite us priests over, and it’s truly humbling. If I invited God Himself over
for dinner, I can only imagine how perfect I would try to make the menu, how
sparkling the appliance would be, how stuffed into closets all my junk would
be. Like Abraham in the first reading and Martha in the Gospel, I’d be running
around like a crazy person trying to get it all done. I read this passage, and
I just want to give Martha big hug and say, “I feel you, Martha.”
But that’s not what Jesus does. Not even close. Instead he
tells Martha that Mary has chosen the better part. She’s too anxious and
worried about things, Jesus says. Jesus simply wants to share himself with his
friends: the serving can wait. Jesus isn’t concerned with how clean the house
is; he isn’t concerned about whether the lasagna is a bit burnt or whether the
steak is medium-rare as opposed to medium (although I personally want to
believe he does care that it isn’t cooked any more than that…); he isn’t
concerned about the toys that the kids left out. Jesus wants us. When Jesus enters under our roof—as
he does every moment of our lives, but in a special way at Mass—, Jesus simply
wants us. He wants us to open the doors of our hearts to him. He wants us to
listen to him. He wants us to follow him. He wants us to leave behind our
concerns for the world—even for just a moment—and be with him.
You may have noticed, though, that I said Jesus is with us
every moment of our lives. If he wants us to simply be with him when he is with
us, and he is always with us, then how could we ever get anything done? Fantastic
question. That is why the Church is so concerned about what Catholic do with
their lives! In every action we take, Christ is with us. Every action, then,
should in some way be oriented toward God. St. Josemaría Escrivá wrote that,
“there is something holy, something divine, hidden in the most ordinary
situations, and it is up to each one of you to discover it […]. There is no
other way. Either we learn to find our Lord in ordinary, everyday life, or else
we shall never find him.” (as quoted in The
Navarre Bible: Standard Edition: Saint Luke’s Gospel, pg. 112)
We cannot avoid being a bit like Martha in our modern times, but the Lord reminds us to remember to imitate Martha’s sister Mary and stay close to Him. This is easy to say and hard to do, but nobody ever said living the Catholic life was easy: Jesus even promised us that it wouldn’t be! Then, though, he revealed to us the richness of his glory and his deep generosity. In return for living our lives as his disciples, Jesus promised us the Kingdom of Heaven, and that promise is worth everything we have, everything we are, and everything we might ever do.
Note: This was written and preached for the weekend of July 20-21, 2019. It was published online on August 14, 2019.
Today’s Readings: July 21, 2019 16th Sunday of Ordinary Time, Year C Genesis 18:1-10a; Psalm 15:2-3, 3-4, 5; Colossians 1:24-28; Luke 10:38-42
Welcome to the new liturgical year! We begin with Advent. Advent… What is Advent all about? Didn’t Christ already come? Why do we have to ready for something that already happened?
Christ did come to us 2,000 years ago. He comes to us every day through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, and we experience him being truly, entirely, and substantially present to us in the Eucharist.1 Christ will come again, but not as a baby: he will come in glory!
We don’t know when this second coming will happen, so we must be ready for it. If Christ is already present, though, why do we need to spend the season of Advent preparing?
We forget. It’s that simple. We forget that Christ is going to come again. We forget how important the Incarnation is. Nobody expected the Incarnation! In the first reading, the Jews are pleading for God to save them. They beg Him to “rend the heavens and come down.” So he did. God became a human being. He became a little child, the son of a carpenter and a virgin. Nobody expected it to happen that way. Few accepted it. Who was able to recognize Jesus as God?
The only people capable of recognizing Jesus are the childlike—those who have the simplicity to trust in God’s plan, even when they don’t understand. Fr. Luigi Giussani2 writes that even after the Resurrection, the apostles still expected Jesus to establish an earthly kingdom. He corrects them, and because of their childlike simplicity, because of their trust in him, the apostles “let it drop; they don’t hold to the demand that He answer their questions just as they may have imagined, but they remain attached to Him more deeply than they were attached to their opinions, with a greater simplicity. Because being attached to one’s own opinion requires the loss of simplicity, the introduction of a presumption and the predominance of one’s own imagination over [God’s plan].”3
How do we grow in this childlike simplicity? How do we learn to abandon our certainties about how the future will play out, to accept what God has planned? In a word, how do we learn detachment? Three practices, in particular, assist with learning detachment: prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. These three practices help purify us of the evil things that slowly creep into our hearts without us realizing. Practicing prayer, fasting, and almsgiving is hard, but that shouldn’t stop us. Paul tells us that God has bestowed, and continues to bestow, Jesus Christ on us, enriching us in every way. He will keep [us] firm to the end. By spending Advent in preparation for Christmas, we prepare ourselves for Jesus’s glorious return.
Advent is the time of year where the famously ambiguous “already, but not yet” is most visible. Jesus is already present to us, but he has not yet come again. This is summed up in a fantastic word which almost never hear outside of Advent: Maranatha. It is one of the last words in the Bible, and was used in the ancient liturgies. We aren’t sure exactly how to translate it, because the Aramaic words can be broken up two ways. It could mean “Come, O Lord!”, or it could mean “Our Lord has come!”
Isn’t this ambiguity perfect? Our Lord has come, but he will come again. What glorious news!
Let us prepare for the Word to become flesh at Christmas, and in doing so prepare for Him to come again. Jesus tells us to Be watchful! Be alert! … so that when Jesus comes, he may not find [us] sleeping at the gates.
Maranâ thâ!Come, O Lord! Let us be ready to greet you, so that when you come we might exclaim Maran ‘athâ!Our Lord has come!
December 3, 2017
First Sunday of Advent, Year B Isaiah 63:16b-17, 19b; 64:2-7; Psalm 80:2-3, 15-16, 18-19; 1 Corinthians 1:3-9; Mark 13:33-37