A Very Good Friday

Good Friday of the Lord’s Passion
April 7, 2023 – Year A
Readings: Is 52:13-53:12 / Ps 31 / Heb 4:14-16; 5:7-9 / Jn 18:1-19:42
by Rev. Jay Biber, Guest Celebrant

There is a dimension to our faith that allows us to see and experience things in a way that’s deeper and contrary to the initial impression.  For instance, the very name that we have for this day is Good Friday. How can that be? How can that be, this greatest chaos, the unimaginable? The unimaginable is not that God rose from the dead, the unimaginable part is God in Christ died. He really did, that’s the unimaginable. How could this happen? This absolute chaos, and we call it good.

The letter to the Hebrews was written late enough in the first and second generations of Christians, for them to have had some time to reflect as a community, to absorb this trauma, and to reflect on it and then begin to develop a vision.

In the reading we just heard, “Son though He was.” When we are called son or daughter in baptism, it means you’re an inheritor, you’re in the will. I guess we would say everyone is conceived a child of God from that moment on. This familial relationship, this being a son, this being an inheritor of God, comes with baptism. God willing, it doesn’t end there, but begins a long journey, a great adventure of life.

Son though He was, He learned obedience from what He suffered and when He was made perfect. But wasn’t He perfect the whole time? In His mission and role as the Son of the Father, the first begotten of the Father, the mission becomes perfected in the obedience to the Father’s plan. The Father says this is what has to be done.

These people I love are yelling at me right now, are shouting insults at me right now, are denying they know me right now.  To bring these people whom I’ve loved from the beginning, to bring these people back up on the rails, back on track: This is the perfection. John even uses the word glory.

When I hear the word glory, I assume he must be talking about the Resurrection or maybe the Ascension. That’s the glory.  But no, when John writes about glory – “I will draw all people to me” — that’s not at the Ascension, that’s on the cross, the perfection of obedience. When He was made perfect, He became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey Him.

How unusual is this faith? We can’t really wish anyone a “Happy Good Friday.” Yet this is the day the work gets done. It’s a work that gets done not only so that we can benefit from it, so that we can take the fruits of it and be nourished and grow up in it and become an adult in it and become mature in it and go through a whole life with it as the mysteries continuously unfold and more will be revealed, always more will be revealed.

It’s not just so that we can benefit from it. The strange part is the work gets done so we can do it. We become perfected by that openness, by that obedience to the will of God. Accomplish in me, Lord, what You will. Accomplish in me, Lord, what You will, and let me get out of the way so You’re free to do what needs to be done.

What is so good about this day is of course we see disaster; we see the emptiness of it. Did you notice in the liturgy that there was no singing when we came in today? There was no singing because of the day. You realize something different is going on right now, and it is. But it’s a great gift.

I believe that if you can imagine it, you just say, Lord, I haven’t got this figured out now, and I’ll never get it completely figured out. But somehow, I’m looking at You and Your suffering. I’m thinking of the scourges, I’m thinking of the crown of thorns, I’m thinking of Peter’s denial, I’m thinking of the apostles running away. No illusions, but in that is Your glory. and when my heart becomes shaped over the years along Your lines, maybe I’ll be able to do something like that. because I will have morphed through Your grace into You.

I was talking to a parent up in Lexington a couple of days ago, and one of the kids is having a hard time and just feels that it’s impossible to be good enough for God. It’s funny how conscience works. I suspect parents can identify with this. With one child something happens, and it goes right by. With the other one, the same word is said, and it sinks in deep, and it alters things.

Similarly, I’ve seen over the years people who have a particularly keen conscience. We use the word scrupulosity when it really goes to the far end and becomes a serious problem. But some have a greater conscience than others and have a deeper sense that whatever their sin is, it is so serious and irredeemable that not even God can touch it.

This is what happened to Judas, as we hear in Matthew’s gospel. He felt that somehow his sin was greater than God’s grace could ever be. His sin was greater than the divine mercy could ever be, and so, he acted accordingly in his hopelessness.

Remember that God didn’t wait until you’re perfect to love you. That’s what we learned today. God didn’t wait for you to be perfect to love you. Yes, Good Friday is very good, because, as St. Paul says, nothing can keep us from the love of God.

Love Extra

Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time
February 19, 2023 — Year A
Readings: Lv 19:1-2, 17-18 / Ps 103 / 1 Cor 3:16-23 / Mt 5:38-48
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

Late one night, a cheerful truck driver pulled up to a roadside café for some refreshment.  As he was eating, three wild-looking motorcyclists rode up to the café’s entrance.  The atmosphere became tense as they walked in wearing dirty leather jackets and tattoos.

Immediately they picked out the truck driver as the target of their meanness.  One poured salt and pepper into his coffee.  Another took his apple pie, placed it on the floor, and squeezed it under his dirty boot.  The third overturned his coffee, causing it to spill into his lap.  The truck driver said not a word.  He merely stood up, walked slowly to the cashier, calmly paid his check, and left.

“That guy isn’t much of a fighter, is he?” sneered one of the motorcyclists.  The waiter behind the counter peered out into the night and replied, “Yeah, he doesn’t seem to be much of a driver either.  He just ran his truck over three motorcycles.”

Brothers and sisters, in today’s gospel, Jesus says, “Offer no assistance to one who is evil.” (Mt 5:39).  He is really a good teacher, because He goes on to give an example of what He means.  He says, “Should anyone press you into service for one mile, go with him for two miles.”

During the time of Jesus, Roman soldiers controlled Palestine, and they had life and death power over Jewish citizens.  In other words, Roman officers could commandeer Jewish citizens and could order them to carry some objects for a distance – one mile for example.  In other words, as Christians, we are expected to do more, to do extra, to go beyond our human transactions.

The Code of Hammurabi that existed between 1793 and 1750 BC, expressed the law of retaliation which we heard a while ago, “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,” the very first verse of our gospel, Matthew 5:38, which was not a command to do violence, but to set limits on giving vengeance for an offense.  The debtor must pay his debts, but the creditor must never ask for more than the amount involved.  Payment for one’s misdeeds must be in the same measure – no more, no less.  In other words, before Jesus Christ, this precept was a law of mercy.

For example, if one of your friends knocked out one of your teeth, you could retaliate by knocking out one of his.  If someone struck you in the eye, you could return the strike, but no more than one eye.  But Jesus did not like this law and presents a real challenge – love your enemies and pray for your persecutors.

Why?  It is because Christians are expected to do more.  A bishop once said:  To love those who you know as friends is not extra.  To give to those who have given you in return is not more.  To work because you are paid a salary is not beyond.  To give in order to be given in return in the form of honor, praise, or promotion is not extra.  All this – friendship, salary, honor, praise, and promotion, are ordinary human grounds of transactions.  Everybody, even pagans and bad people, do this.

Jesus also adds to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us (Mt 5:44).  Whether we like it or not, we like to return evil for evil.  We are like a rubber band; you stretch it hard and once it snaps, it stings.  Gandhi said that if we take an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, then the world would be filled with blind and toothless people.  In Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice, it is said that if the moneylender Shylock were to be allowed to cut a pound of flesh from the body of Antonio, who failed to repay him, what would become of us, but a walking bone.

The Divine Counsel, however, tells us to return good for evil.  In fact, St. Paul reminds us to conquer evil by our good deeds.

Just like what a mother said to a priest after Mass, “Father, we were late for Mass because on our way to church, we were robbed inside the bus.  There were six of us, and four young robbers pulled knives on us.”  Expressing concern, the priest asked, “Are you all right?  What can I do to be a help to you?  Do you still have money for your fare back to your home?”  She replied, “We are a bit shaken, but we are OK, Father.  I was able to hide enough money for our fare.

“But I want to make a request.  You see, I was touched by your gospel reflections about the man who was robbed, and a Good Samaritan came to help.  If you really want to be of help, in your next Mass, please pray for the young men who held us up.”  The priest was shocked because he was praying for kind and loving people most of the time, for sick persons, etc., but never in his life had the priest prayed for robbers.  If he would not pray, who would pray for them?

What Jesus said is a challenge to all of us.  But why do we have to love even our enemies and not hate them instead?  It is because first and foremost it is extra and more.  To love those who are not lovable, to give to those who cannot give in return, to serve those who cannot serve in return, and to forgive even our enemies.

The other reason is that we are created in the image and likeness of God.  Our vocation as humans is to resemble our Father in Heaven.

Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.

Salt and Light

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
February 5, 2023 — Year A
Readings: Is 58:7-10 / Ps 112 / 1 Cor 2:1-5 / Mt 5:13-16
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

Pierre Charles, the son of St. Ignatius of Loyola once asked, “How can I see Christ if I do not see Him in Christians?”

Also, the German philosopher, Friedrich Nietzsche, once wrote, “If Christians wish us to believe in their Redeemer, why don’t they look a little more redeemed?”

What is the greatest hindrance to Christianity in our country?  This is a question that is bound to elicit a variety of answers, depending on whom you ask.  Possible answers might include mass media, popular culture, materialism, bad government policies, other religions, etc.

Jesus said to us in today’s gospel, “You are the salt of the earth and the light of the world.”  Both salt and light are indispensable in our daily lives.  Without them, we have major problems.  We use salt to prepare delicious meals, and we rely on light to go about our normal activities.  These two, salt and light, symbolize how we act and live as Christians in the world, to others, and also to ourselves.

Jesus did not say, “You should be…” or “You have to be like…”   He said, “You are.” This is already the nature and the characteristic of a Christian.  That is, to give good examples to somebody, so that, as the gospel says, “They may see your goodness.”  They will see the goodness in your acts and they will give praise to your Heavenly Father, and not to your own self.

That is why, when I say something nice, or I say I appreciate someone, they respond to me, “Praise be to God, Father.”  That really humbles me.  Yes, we are so proud if someone praises us, and that is normal, but let these praises lead us to pray, praise, and thank God, who is the giver and author of all real talents and abilities.

In today’s gospel, Jesus says to His disciples, “You are the light of the world.” (Matthew 5:14)   But elsewhere in John 8:12, Jesus says of Himself, “I am the light of the world.”  So, who, then, is the light of the world, Jesus or His followers?   This apparent contradiction can be solved by another passage in John 9:5, where Jesus modifies His statement about Himself.  He said, “As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.”

This shows that Jesus is talking about the flesh and blood as the embodiment of the light.  As long as He is physically present in the world, He is the light of the world.  But when He is no longer physically present, His followers will assume the role of being the light of the world.

The role of the Christian can be defined with two words in today’s gospel: salt and light.  Now, what do these mean?  Do you know that the word “sugar” never occurs in the Bible?  In ancient times, salt was the ultimate seasoning that gave taste to food.  Without salt, food would be tasteless.  Jesus is saying that as salt is to food, so are Christians to the world.  Christians are in the world to make it a better place.

How can we make the world a better place?  We find the answer in the parallel passage in Mark that says, “Have salt in yourselves and be at peace with one another.”  (Mark 9:50)   As salt, we are called to be good disciples, friendly and kind, living at peace with everybody.  As light, we are called to show the way.  Without light, we bump into each other and fall into the ditch.  But light says, “Here is the road:  take it.  Here is the danger:  avoid it.”  Without light and salt, the world would be in very bad shape, uninteresting, and impossible to live in.  With light and salt, the world becomes a safer and better place.  It is our duty as Christians to make the world a better place.

The Church tells us today how to do it:  the same way that salt and light do it.  First, salt must be different from the food before it can be of use.  If salt loses its taste, it is useless, and can no longer make a difference.  Light must be different from darkness in order to be of help.  A flashlight with a dead battery is no good for someone in the dark.  Being the salt and the light of the world means being different from the world.  If believers have nothing that distinguishes them from the nonbelievers, then they are like salt that has lost its saltiness, and therefore cannot make a difference.

And what distinguishes us from nonbelievers should not be so much what we claim to be, or the badges and pins we wear, but the lives we live.  As Jesus says in John 13:35, “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples: if you have love for one another.”  Love is the distinctive mark by which you can tell the true Christian from the false.

Secondly, both salt and light operate by associating with the thing they want to change.  Salt cannot improve the food unless it goes into the food and changes it from within.  Light cannot show the way unless it encounters darkness.

Sometimes Christians think that the way to go is to keep away from getting involved with society and popular culture.  But by shying away from the realities of our society and our world, we might indeed be hiding our lamp underneath a bushel basket.  To make a difference, we must get up and get involved.

Today’s gospel is frightening.  It says, in effect, that if there is so much darkness and bitterness in the world today, it is because we, as Christians, have failed in our job to be salt and light in the world.  But we can decide to make a difference starting from today.  We can decide to light a candle, rather than curse the darkness.  Even the smallest candle helps in a world of darkness.  This is our task; this is our challenge; this is our mission; and this is our goal.

Share the Abundance

Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time
September 25, 2022 — Year C
Readings: Am 6:1a, 4-7 / Ps 146 / 1 Tm 6:11-16 / Lk 16:19-31
by Rev. Mr. Barry Welch, Guest Homilist

The parable we heard today is certainly an indictment of the rich man.  But the rich man didn’t really do anything wrong.  He didn’t kill anybody; he didn’t harm Lazarus; he didn’t call the cops and have him sent away.  He didn’t really do anything wrong, but still he was indicted here, and he was indicted because of what he did not do.  In the beginning of the Mass, we recite the Confiteor:  Forgive me for what I have done and what I have failed to do.

When Jesus was giving this parable, the people who were present probably all had a rich man in their hearts – especially the Pharisees, because that’s whom he was directing His message to.  At the very beginning it says “He said to the Pharisees…”

Frankly, there is probably a little bit of the “rich man” in all of us today.  In this message, we have the “literal” or surface meaning:  It’s pretty clear that Jesus is calling out greed, self-importance, selfishness, gluttony, all of those things that are clearly ailments of our current society and culture.  That surface message is a strong lesson for all of us to pray about, meditate on, and to consider in our lives.

Also, this severe contrast between the very rich and the super poor spotlights God’s love for all human beings and also our role in bringing about His love and His kingdom.  I think the riches, the superabundance, the sumptuousness that we see on the rich man’s table in this story represent the grace of God, overflowing.  And it’s available to all.  But do we all know it?  Do we all sense it, feel it, and believe it?

Israel, the people of God, in a very special way were called apart and gifted with the knowledge of this grace of God.  God spoke directly to them; He walked with them, and talked with them, and brought them out of slavery in Egypt, crossed the Red Sea, and eventually brought them to the Promised Land.  Ultimately, he made salvation available to everyone through the Chosen People, in the person of Jesus Christ.

The rich man had all of this showered upon him in his house:  the food, the abundance, the overflowing table representing God’s grace every single day – not just Sunday – and yet, he keeps it to himself.  He’s comfortable.  He’s fine.  He’s taken care of.  He’s secure.  Or so he thinks.  But we’re not called to gorge on God’s grace for ourselves.  We, too, have these things, like the rich man had:  We have Moses and the prophets; we have the Word of God; and we have the One who rose from the dead.  We also have the Church and her sacraments.

In the story, Lazarus was close to the feast.  He was right there: he could have picked up the scraps.  There are probably Lazaruses even here in this gathering space or at home on Facebook, poor in spirit and desiring but a small scrap, not really knowing Jesus and His love for them, but do we see them?  Do we even get close enough to know their names, the way Jesus knew Lazarus’s name?  Note that this is the only parable Jesus told in which someone was named.  In all the others, it’s “the father”; it’s “the women”; it’s “the blind man”; it’s “the virgin”.  In this one, Jesus named him, because it’s important.

Then there are those brothers.  There are those who are out there that may not be “close to the feast” of God’s grace:  our friends and family, children and grandchildren, co-workers, fellow students.  After we’re gone, it’s too late; we can’t reach them then.  They have the prophets, they have the Word, they have Moses, they even have someone who rose from the dead, but do they know?  It’s your job now — your job and my job.

We go through our lives in this material world and this Western enlightened culture with it baked into us:  individualism.  It’s all about me.  I have a right.  And consumerism.  I, me, mine.  I worked hard for this; this is mine.  It trains our brains toward selfishness, even with grace, and the knowledge of salvation and the forgiveness of sins.

But here we are, we’re called to come.  We’re here to worship.  We’re not here to worship the priest, or the deacon, or the choir, or the altar servers.  We’re not here to worship each other, or the architecture, or the décor.  Don’t get me wrong:  All of those are very, very important, because every single one of them either represents Jesus Christ or points us toward Him.  They’re all very important.

But why are we here?  We’re here to worship our Lord and Savior:  the One who willingly sacrificed and died on the cross.  We’re here to receive that abundant, sumptuous, overflowing grace poured out on this altar, on this table.  We feed on that sumptuous altar with the Word and the Eucharist.  And then we go out, and we take it out into the world where our brothers and sisters are.  That’s why, at the end of Mass, the very last element of the Mass is “the Dismissal”.  The Dismissal is so important that the Mass itself gets its name from the Latin word for dismissal.  The Deacon, when present, gets the privilege of executing the Dismissal: “Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.”  “Go in peace glorifying God by your life.”  “Go and announce the Gospel of the Lord!”

Think about that:  At the end of every Mass, we’re given that Dismissal; that call.  Think about how important that Dismissal is.  Because we’re to take those graces – that overflowing abundance of graces – and not hoard them for ourselves but take that abundance and that love of Christ out into the world to our brothers and sisters to make them aware of the knowledge of salvation and the forgiveness of their sins.

There are lots of ways we can do it:  We can do it by words, smiles, hugs, encouragement, our actions, with our love and care for every human, with our charity, and with our prayers.  Please pray – It works!

Certainly, we can help – and we are called to help and assist – everyone in need with physical needs, material needs, medical needs, all of those things.  We’re always called to do that.  Always!  But foremost is to bring them the grace of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  They have Moses, and they have the prophets, and praise God, they have you.

The Smart Manager

Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
September 18, 2022 — Year C
Readings: Am 8:4-7 / Ps 113 / 1 Tm 2:1-8 / Lk 16:1-13
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

There is a story about an angel who appeared at a faculty meeting and told the dean that he had come to reward him for his years of devoted service.  The dean is asked to choose one of three blessings:  infinite wealth, infinite fame, or infinite wisdom.  Without hesitation, the dean asked for infinite wisdom.  “You’ve got it,” the angel said and disappeared.  All heads turned toward the dean, who sat glowing in the aura of infinite wisdom.  Finally, one of his colleagues whispered, “Say something.”  The dean looked at them and said, “I should have taken the money.”

Wisdom, in the sense of being smart or shrewd, as we see in today’s gospel parable of the dishonest servant, is not an end in itself.  One can be smart and use one’s smartness to do mean things.  We know for a fact that many con artists and terrorists are smart people who use their smartness to create unhappiness in the world.

Today’s parable challenges us to be smart in the pursuit of the Kingdom of God, just as godless people are smart in their pursuit of selfish goals and ambitions.  Jesus uses the example of a smart manager in his master’s business to teach us the need to be smart in the Lord’s service.  We are challenged to imitate the manager’s shrewdness, not his dishonesty.

The master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly.   Why did the master, who had made up his mind to fire the manager, now commend him?  Probably the manager had been running his master’s business in a drab, routine, and lifeless manner, devoid of creativity and imagination.  As a result, the business was failing, so the master decided it was time to fire him.  He said, “Give me an accounting of your management, because you cannot be my manager any longer.”

The manager is facing the real danger of being dismissed from service.  He knows the seriousness of the situation.  He knows exactly how helpless he is.  That is why he says to himself, “What will I do, now that my master is taking the position away from me?  I am not strong enough to dig, and I am ashamed to beg.  (Luke 16:3) He is in a very difficult and precarious situation.  He scratches his head and comes up with this ingenious plan to safeguard his future.  The master praises him, because if the manager had been using such smart thinking in the daily running of the business, he would have been a much more successful manager rather than a failure.

The parable challenges all of us to be smart managers.  Yes, we are all called to be managers.  God has entrusted the whole of His creation into our hands as His managers.   Jesus Christ, in addition, entrusts the kingdom of God, the kingdom of love, justice, and peace into our hands as His managers.  World peace and harmony and the renewal of all things in Christ, are the business of us all, collectively and individually.  Jesus calls it the Kingdom of God.

Our business as followers of Christ, ordained and unordained believers, is to help bring about the Kingdom of God, starting with our own selves.  We have all been given the necessary resources to do this.  We have been equipped with the truth of faith, we have been empowered by the Holy Spirit, who dwells in our hearts, and we have been given time.  Sooner or later, we shall be called upon to render an account of how we have invested and managed these resources.

There is a story about a very rich woman who died and went to heaven.  Saint Peter escorted her down a magnificent street on which each house was beautifully made like a palace.  The wealthy woman saw one house that was particularly beautiful and asked who lived there.  “That,” Saint Peter answered, “is the home of your servant.”  “Well,” the woman said, smiling, “If my servant gets a house like that, I certainly look forward to seeing a palatial home for myself.”  Soon they came to a narrow alley where the houses were small and cramped.  “You will live in that house,” said Saint Peter, pointing with his finger.  “Me? Live in a shanty?  That’s an insult,” retorted the wealthy woman.  “This is the best we can do for you,” Peter said.  “You must understand that we only build your home up here with the materials you send ahead while you are still on earth.”

The Church reminds us today that it is now the time to send materials ahead of us in the afterlife, in order to build our homes in heaven.  These materials are not construction materials that we can buy in a construction supply company.  These materials are not just prayers and acts of charity but doing the day-to-day ordinary work in an extraordinary way.  It means consciously performing your duties well, whether you are a lawyer, a government official, a teacher, a student, a policeman, or an ordinary citizen.

We don’t have to wait, like the dishonest servant, for the last-minute display of smartness to fix our eternal concerns.  The time to be smart is now.  The smart manager used what he could not give to get what he needed so badly: friendship with his business associates. We should likewise invest all of our temporal and spiritual resources to gain the only thing that matters in the end:  the Kingdom of God.

Preparedness

Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
August 7, 2022 — Year C
Readings: Wis 18:6-9 / Ps 33 / Heb 11:1-2, 8-19 / Lk 12:32-48
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

One day in 1780, the state of Connecticut was enveloped by a mysterious darkness. The same thought came to all: The Last Day had arrived. In the House of Representatives, members were heard asking for an adjournment, so that they could go home and wait for the Lord’s coming together with their families. The chairman, Abraham Davenport, made a short speech. “Either it is the day of judgment or not. If not, there is no need for adjournment. If it were the day of judgment, I would rather be found doing my duty. I wish candles to be brought.”

Brothers and sisters, the parable of today’s gospel focuses on the unpredictable return of Jesus and our need to be prepared for His return. He is saying to us, Ready or not, here I come.

Normally, when we think of being ready, we usually think of being prepared for the worst that could happen. Locks on the doors in case of thieves. Life jackets in the event of a boat accident.

Isn’t it interesting that most of us believe in preparation for many uncertainties, but not for the most important event of our lives? We carry a spare tire in our car as a preparation for a flat tire. We have insurance in preparation for our death. Fire truck in preparation for a fire. Airline stewards provide pre-flight instruction in preparation for turbulent weather.  And we seek education in preparation for a good job.

Preparation, in our society, is a sign of wisdom. But think about this: Of all the preparations that we make for the things I just mentioned, not a single one is a certainty. Yet we feel compelled to prepare ourselves for them.

The return of Jesus is a certainty. We can never know precisely when He will return or when we will die, but His return is certain. We must constantly watch, being always faithful and ready, so that we may be found worthy to share in the heavenly banquet He has prepared for us.

The question of the parable is not whether or not Christ is coming again, or when He’s coming, or even how He’s coming. The point is being prepared for His coming and ready to receive Him whenever He comes, now or later.

When a family was vacationing in Europe, they found that they needed to drive three days continuously, day and night, to get to Germany. They all got into the car: Mom, Dad, and their three-year-old daughter. The little daughter had never traveled at night before. She was scared the first night in the car, seeing only the deep darkness outside the window.

“Where are we going, Daddy?”

“To your uncle’s house in Germany.”

“Have you been to his house before?”

“No.”

“Then do you know the way?”

“Maybe we can read the map.”

(Short pause.)

“Do you know how to read the map?”

“Yes, we will get there safely.”

(Another pause.)

“Where are we going to eat, if we get hungry before arriving?”

“We can stop at restaurants if we are hungry,” the Dad replied.

“Do you know if there are restaurants on the way?”

“Yes, there are.”

“Do you know where?”

“No, but we’ll be able to find some.”

The same dialog was repeated several times during the first night and also the second night, but on the third night, his daughter was quiet. The Dad thought that she might have fallen asleep, but when he looked into the mirror, he saw that she was awake and was just looking around calmly. He couldn’t help wondering why she was not asking questions anymore.

“Dear, do you know where we are going?”

“Germany, uncle’s home.”

“Do you know how we are getting there?”

“No.”

“Then why aren’t you asking anymore?”

“Because Daddy is driving.”

Because Daddy is driving. Yes, brothers and sisters, our Father is driving. We may not know the destination, and sometimes we may just know it as the child knew it – Germany — without understanding what or where it really is. In the road of life that we follow, there are many uncertainties and distractions. We do not know where the road will take us. We do not know when it will end. But one thing is certain: At the end of life’s journey, Our Lord will be there to meet us, to welcome us into the heavenly kingdom, if we have prepared ourselves.

Preparation cannot be a “sometime” thing but living each moment of our life for Jesus. If we can do that, we will be prepared to greet our Master whenever He comes.

How can one be prepared in this matter? If you can still remember when Jesus talks about the Last Judgment, He makes it clear that this preparation or preparedness would be measured by our readiness to serve the people we meet. He said, “What you do to the least of my brothers and sisters, you do this unto me.” We have to complete the task entrusted to us every day and be at peace with, and at the service of, our neighbor now, to be ready for His Second Coming.

Another way is to be faithful to the life and mission of Jesus, as we await the end time, His Second Coming. Despite criticisms, rejection, pain, and suffering, let us remain faithful to the love of the Father, as Jesus did. Let us fulfill the mission entrusted to us, that is, to proclaim God’s reign to all.

God loves faithfulness and rewards those who are faithful to Him. What is faithfulness? It means keeping one’s word or promise, and commitment, no matter how tough or difficult it gets.  Faithfulness is a character trait of God and one that He expects of us.

May Jesus Christ be praised.

A New Day, a New Life

Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
June 26, 2022 – Year C
Readings: 1 Kgs 19:16b, 19-21 / Ps 16 / Gal 5:1, 13-18 / Lk 9:51-62
by Rev. Jay Biber, Guest Celebrant

This was a week like no other, with the big elephant in the little living room: major cultural shifts.  And to many of us, what came down from the courts is not necessarily friendly.

There were three decisions that came down from the high court.  The first one was about the second amendment. The second sort of gets blocked out, about faith in education.  It was a case brought from the state of Maine, in which the county agreed to pay for public or private schools, as long as there was no religion involved.   Parents challenged the decision that no religion could be involved.  The court’s ruling stated that as long as a full education was offered, public funding could be used regardless.  So, we’ve all learned that it’s very important for Catholic parents to keep a close eye on education.

The third one on Friday has to do with the whole culture of life.  I think of all of your prayers that have been going up for these forty-nine years since January of 1973, for an end to abortion and to respect the dignity of every human being from moment of conception to moment of natural death.  That’s the first right, after which all other rights follow.

The Supreme Court decision does not mean an end to abortion.  It was more of a judicial thing that says we took a case forty-nine years ago that was not settled law.  In fact, it overturned state law for most of the states in the country and almost guaranteed an ongoing controversy.  And so it returns to the states, for those of us who consciously wish to establish that culture of life in which every life is welcomed.

When I visit the nursing home and see the person whom I once knew in the prime of life, ranting and incontinent – no, you’re not a vegetable!  You’re never a vegetable; you’re a human all the way to the end of your natural life.  We don’t interfere with that.  And you are human from the moment of your conception.

So, it’s up to us going forward, because in Virginia nothing has changed between Thursday and Saturday.  To work for that right to life is still what lies before us.  It has just been brought back to the state level now.  The feeling was that the judiciary had been too activist – they had taken too active a role in what should have been up to the people at the polls to decide, not the unelected judge, so it wasn’t a constitutional issue.

I have the sense that you are probably getting hammered by those who know you are Catholic, because not everybody out there is friendly to what we stand for.  Like in the early Church, in some ways we stand alone.  I hope to give you a couple of things that you can say, because I don’t want to see you unequipped or defenseless.  I want to see you with some words that you can believe in.

Long ago, as early Christians, we separated ourselves, often at the cost of life and limb, from the Roman Empire, and it was remarked upon by commentators and historians, that all these Christians don’t want to abort their children and they don’t expose their children.

What was common under the Roman Empire was that children who weren’t wanted were put out where the animals were, or in the forest, or on the roof overnight.  Of course, many of them didn’t survive.  That was called exposing, and if they survived, the family would often take them back.  Christians didn’t do that.

And I suspect that it was because we were taken from all walks of society, and we recognized that since Christ came for all, and since all were made in the image and likeness of God, and that since Christ had taken on flesh, that means that I have to treat their lives with enormous respect.

I always love first confessions.  You know when the kids come in, and some of them have very keen consciences, and some not so much.  But I always remind them that God loves you and that you are not here by accident.  You’re not some cosmic waste; you’re here for a reason (although they may not know it yet), but you’re not here by accident.  And so, it opens us up early on, hopefully.  From the beginning we stood apart, regardless of how the empire went, and regardless of how the empire goes now.

This is in the future and I don’t have a crystal ball for you.  Whatever happens, we’ll stay the same.  Now we think it’s a great way to live.  It is profoundly liberal, because it says there’s room for you.  We don’t know how we’re going to put that extra plate at the table, but there’s room for you.  That’s the best of the word “liberal” – an openness to the unexpected, an openness to what God’s doing that I may not be completely in touch with.

So, not only do I go back to the beginnings of things, I go back to when my own life began, which wasn’t the day that I appeared to the world in August of 1947.  I’m guessing it was around Thanksgiving time the year before when my life first began inside my mom.  She didn’t know I was there.  Dad didn’t know; I guess God was the only one who knew.  But what I know now that I didn’t know then is that even at that point, I was a person.  I had a right to life.  I was a human being.  And now we know scientifically that I even had my own DNA.  My mother was the one who carried me, but I wasn’t her, I wasn’t a part of her in that sense.  I was dependent on her, but I was not her; I was somebody different.  And that’s what we keep saying – the baby is somebody different, and the baby deserves that protection.  We speak of the baby because maybe our first experience of faith was to think of a baby, because babies are voiceless.

A number of different numbers come to mind as I reflect back.  The number 49.  The number 43.  The number 95.  Forty-nine years ago, when I had just quit the seminary, I had been in for ten years – high school, college in Rhode Island, where I am from, and then over to Belgium for my graduate work for three years.  Times were sort of wild in 1972; it was a crazy, crazy time.  I said to myself that I had too many reservations, so I left the seminary, stayed in Europe after being in Belgium for three years where it was always cloudy and gray.  I needed to clear out the cobwebs, so I hitchhiked down to the south of Spain and worked there for six months, got some sun, and then hitchhiked up to Switzerland where I waited on tables in the Alps and was a ski bum for six months before coming back to the states.

It was during that time that the Roe ruling came down.  Of course, it was not on my radar, so I knew nothing about it.  I only heard about it later on, and life has a way of coming full circle. After a business career I was drawn back to the priesthood, and I moved from Boston down to Virginia and was ordained here.  There I became involved in the Pro-Life movement, because once I began to think about it, I said, “This can’t be.”

And on a day like today, I think of those in parishes throughout the world who are praying.  I think of all those Marches for Life rarely covered by the news media and the longest peaceful protest in history.  All those people who said, “This ain’t right.”  In a culture that doesn’t have an attention span of 49 seconds, this is 49 years and that March for Life becomes like a great family reunion every year.  It’s sort of like Woodstock without the dope – it’s the same average age as Woodstock was.  There’s a sense of ‘we need to be here.’  And of course, now that is reversed and sent back.  I think of all the people who have gone before us during those forty-nine years and those whose prayers, in this respect, have been answered.

Think of the number 43.  There was no long history, no constitutional right to abortion.  It was a very activist decision because the laws of 43 states were changed by this, overnight.  And that was hard to swallow.  So, this time around, the court says it is not constitutional – it must be taken back to the people.

I think of the number 95, for it was 95 years ago, not far from here in Amherst and Charlottesville – that the Supreme Court case was Buck v. Bell, dealing with involuntary sterilization of imbeciles, feebleminded, and people who were ‘less.’  It was the eugenics movement.  It eventually got exported to the Third Reich.  The eugenics movement – some lives are worth more than others – who would breed and who wouldn’t.  And that Supreme Court, perhaps the most illustrious of all time, came down to permit it.

All the way up to the 60s, thousands were victims of involuntary sterilization, and that Supreme Court consisted of luminaries.  Former President Taft was on it, and perhaps the most well-known of all Supreme Court justices, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Louis Brandeis.  This is a list of the greats, and they came out 8 to 1 in favor of eugenics.  Now it had to get overturned and was overturned in the 1940s, when we saw what it wrought.  But the one dissenter, which sort of struck me, was the one Catholic justice.  He was raised not in the lap of luxury, not with a silver spoon, but in a log cabin in Minnesota with ten other kids in the family.  Somehow, he knew.

I’ve been thinking about this for a long time and I feel very inadequate.  The first time around we didn’t have the words; we didn’t know what to say.  Perhaps when you get confronted, maybe we can begin to get the words now.  What I always ask is if a baby is a baby is a baby, and I was who I was before my mom knew I was there.  Science tells me that.  I wasn’t part of Mom in that sense.  I was who I was.  The other thing I say is when you look at much of this back and forth is that nobody talks about Baby.  And I simply say, “Who speaks for Baby?”  You’d expect Mom to be the one to speak for Baby, but if not, we will.  Keep Baby at the center of the conversation.

Listening to today’s gospel, I would say put this on my tombstone.  Where he says to Jesus, I will follow you wherever you go.  And Jesus says, “Foxes have dens and the birds of the air have their nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to rest His head.”  That to me, is the great romance of the priesthood, or trying to follow Christ, I think for all of us.  To eventually let go of all the little props and little securities that I need, and to turn myself over completely to Him.  Where the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head, there is no security but Him.

This is a chance for us to move forth, to say no, we think a culture of life is a great thing, and yes, we may have to revise the whole sexual revolution.  We may have to revisit that and say that it was not such a great idea.  Look at a lot of the results.  Now we may have to go back and do a lot of work, but the battle is always Christ’s, and so may we be graced with all the fruits of the spirit in going forth.

Come, Holy Spirit

Pentecost Sunday
June 5, 2022 — Year C
Readings: Acts 2:1-11 / Ps 104 / Rom 8:8-17 / Jn 20:19-23
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

There is a story about a young boy who went to the store on his bicycle to buy something, but there was no place to park his bicycle.  He decided to go to a nearby church and make a request to the parish priest and, of course, the priest granted his request without any hesitation.

The boy asked, “Father, is it safe here?”  He needed to ask, because he was concerned that someone might steal his bicycle.  The priest replied, “Of course.  The Holy Spirit will keep watch over your bike.   But first, let us go inside the church and pray.”  They knelt down, made the sign of the cross, and the boy said, “In the name of the Father, and of the Son.  Amen.”  The priest interrupted him, “My son, you forgot the last part ‘and of the Holy Spirit.’”  The boy said, “We should not disturb the Holy Spirit, Father.  He is watching over my bike.”

The Holy Spirit does not keep watch solely over bicycles.  Rather, He keeps watch over everything and everyone, especially over the disciples, including ourselves, whom Jesus leaves behind as He returns to the Father.  At the Last Supper Jesus tells them that He will send a gift from the Father, the greatest of all gifts, and that is the gift of the Holy Spirit.

The Scriptures tell us that fifty days after the Exodus, Moses received the ten commandments from Yahweh at Mount Sinai.  Yahweh presented them to His people, and the people pledged faithfulness to all that Yahweh expected of them.

We Christians celebrate Pentecost fifty days after the resurrection of Jesus.  It is the feast day of the Holy Spirit and the birthday of the Church, for Jesus sent His spirit over the disciples to empower them to live by His word.  That is why we are celebrating the Solemnity of the Pentecost today, the giving and coming of the Holy Spirit as a gift from the risen Lord.  Pentecost, in Greek, means the fiftieth day, that is, the fiftieth day after Easter, or the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.

Actually, the Holy Spirit had already been given to the disciples when Jesus appeared to them after the Resurrection.  He breathed the Holy Spirit on them by saying, “Receive the Holy Spirit.  Do not be afraid.”  But still, they remained sad, and afraid that what happened to Jesus Christ might also happen to them.  It was only after fifty days that the apostles finally realized that the Holy Spirit had descended upon them and they became courageous.

We, too, receive the Holy Spirit during our Baptism and Confirmation.  But why doesn’t it change our lives as it changed those of the apostles?  Why do we behave, in many ways, like those that are unbaptized, or pagans, as if we never received the Holy Spirit?  I guess the answer is because the Holy Spirit inspires us to do good things, but in the long run it is up to us to accept, ignore, or reject His promptings.

So now the question is, who is the Holy Spirit?  We know that the Holy Spirit is the third person of the Blessed Trinity.  He’s the love of the Father and the Son, present within God the Father and God the Son throughout all eternity.  When we want to describe Him, however, we have difficulties, for we cannot see Him.

The original word in Greek, can express the idea of breath, wind, or spirit.  Before the world was created, a strong wind blew over the water.  There was no life yet on earth.  Nevertheless, the earth was covered by God’s presence.  Even though we do not see the Holy Spirit, we are all aware that He is at work in our lives.  We cannot see the wind, and we do not know where it comes from or where it is going, but we see its effects.  The leaves on the trees rustle in the breeze.  Trees are toppled by its fury.  The wind gives speed to a sailboat and produces sound when blown into a musical instrument.

Our Church reminds us today that Pentecost represents God’s gracious, enabling presence at work among His people. This presence enables them to live their lives according to His teachings.  It is also a day to celebrate hope:  a hope that suggests that a knowledge of God, through the Holy Spirit, is working among His people.

The event also celebrates a newness, a renewal of purpose through the Holy Spirit and a mission and calling as God’s people.  Most of all, the day is a celebration of God’s ongoing work in the world which emphasizes the gifts of the Holy Spirit and provides a tremendous opportunity for churches to use this sacred sign to call for a renewal through the work of the Holy Spirit in their lives.

In closing, please join me in praying this prayer to the Holy Spirit:

Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful
and kindle in them the fire of Your love.
Send forth your spirit and they shall be created
and You shall renew the face of the earth.  Amen.

We Are His Body

The Ascension of the Lord
May 29, 2022 — Year C
Readings: Acts 1:1-11 / Ps 47 / Eph 1:17-23 / Lk 24:46-53
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

The four gospels contain many parables of a master who sets out on a long journey and gives his servants charge of his estate until his return. In the Feast of the Ascension of Our Lord Jesus Christ, this parable becomes a reality. As we have heard in the gospel, Jesus departs to His Heavenly Father and leaves His disciples in charge of the affairs of His kingdom until His return in glory.

Each of the gospels ends with a scene in which Jesus finally takes leave of His disciples. These parallel scenes focus, not on describing the event in detail, but on the last words that Jesus leaves with His disciples. In fact, the very fact of a bodily ascension of Jesus into heaven is described only by Saint Luke.

It is Luke who wrote the Acts of the Apostles, from which we got our first reading today. A later ending of Mark also includes the Ascension. There are important similarities and differences between Luke and Acts, on the one hand, and Matthew and Mark, on the other, regarding the details of His farewell scene.

For example, in Luke/Acts, the ascension takes place in Jerusalem, whereas in Matthew and Mark, it takes place in Galilee. Both traditions, however, agree that it took place on a mountain.

In Luke/Acts, the ascension happens forty days after the Resurrection, during which period Jesus appears repeatedly to His followers. In Matthew and Mark, there is no indication of a time period between the Resurrection and the Ascension. Rather, the first appearance of Jesus to His disciples after His Resurrection is also the last.

So the gospel writers apparently were not aiming at accuracy in historical details. They were more concerned with transmitting a message. So now, the question is: What is the message? What is the charge that Jesus gives His disciples as he physically takes leave of them?

The message, if we look at the different gospels, is phrased differently in the Acts and also in the gospels. Let’s first look at the Acts of the Apostles (Acts 1:8).  It says: “But you will receive power, when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

In Matthew (Mt 28:19-20), it says: “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, and teach them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

The gospel of Mark (Mk 16:15-18) says, “Go into all the world and proclaim the good news to the whole creation. The one who believes and is baptized will be saved, but the one who does not believe will be condemned. And these signs will accompany those who believe: by using my name, they will cast out demons; they will speak in new tongues; they will pick up snakes in their hands; and if they drink any deadly thing, it will not hurt them. They will lay their hands on the sick, and they will recover.”

So, brothers and sisters, these are the last words of Jesus, as recorded differently in the Acts of the Apostles, and in Matthew and Mark. But all of them are in agreement that Jesus gave His disciples a mission, a task to engage in until His return in glory. Second, He assured them of divine assistance in carrying out this mission.

The mission is to be a witness to the good news of Jesus to the ends of the earth, to go into all nations of the world, and proclaim the good news to the whole creation. The universal reach of this mission is very clear. The message of Jesus is meant to be good news in the ears of all humankind, irrespective of nationality or culture.

Given the fact that, today, many nations have embraced other religions in preference to the Gospel, maybe it’s time to ask ourselves: Are these people rejecting the message of Jesus, or are they rejecting the messengers and the way they represented it? The air of superiority and triumphalism assumed by many Christian missionaries is a disservice to the Gospel and not part of the good news. Have we perhaps despoiled a good story in the telling?

At the beginning of the twentieth century, some mission-minded Christians started a periodical and called it “The Christian Century.” That title was an expression of their triumphalist belief that, by the end of the century, the whole world would have been Christianized. Today, we have hopefully grown wiser and humbler, as we realize that, in the twentieth century, not only did we fail to Christianize the whole world, but rather that we added two world wars to our record of “accomplishments.” To this day, there is still war and ongoing threats of war in other parts of the world.

Spreading the good news to all nations is not a goal that can be attained by dint of human mind and craft. That is why Jesus promises to empower His messengers from on high by His abiding presence, and of course, with the help of the Holy Spirit. The challenge of sharing the good news with all humankind should, therefore, begin on our knees, as we confess that we have often taken matters into our own selfish human hands, and promise to give the Holy Spirit a chance.

There is a story told about a small town in Germany that was severely blasted during the last war. Some years later the buildings were restored. One of the buildings was the town’s cathedral. When the renovation was completed, it was noticed that the large figure of Christ the King, which stood in front of the cathedral, was still unrepaired, when both hands had been blown off in the explosion.

When there was no sign of its being repaired, some parishioners went to their pastor to inquire if he had any plans to repair the statue. He surprised them all by saying that, no, he was going to leave the statue exactly as it was. He explained that, when Jesus ascended into heaven, He took His body with Him. He asked us to provide the body, which is the Church, and His Spirit would provide everything else. He would not replace the hands on the statue, to remind people that Jesus has no other hands but ours when it comes to continuing the building of His kingdom here on earth.

Let me end by quoting what Saint Teresa of Avila once said: “Christ has no body now but yours; no hands, no feet on earth but yours. Yours are the eyes through which He looks with compassion on this world. You are the feet with which He walks to do good. Yours are the hands through which He blesses all the world. Yours are the hands; yours are the feet; yours are the eyes. You are His body. Christ has no body now on earth but yours.”

Good Shepherds

Fourth Sunday of Easter
May 8, 2022 — Year C
Readings: Acts 13:14, 43-52 / Ps 100 / Rev 7:9, 14b-17 / Jn 10:27-30
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

Four clergymen, taking a short break from their heavy schedules, were on a park bench chatting and enjoying an early Spring day.

“You know, since all of us are such good friends,” said one, “this might be a good time to discuss personal problems.”  They all agreed.

“Well, I would like to share with you the fact that I drink to excess,” said one.  There was a gasp from the other three.

Then another spoke up.  “Since you were so honest, I’d like to say that my big problem is gambling.  It’s terrible, I know, but I can’t quit.  I’ve even been tempted to take money from the collection plate.”  Another gasp was heard.

The third clergyman spoke.  “I’m really troubled, brothers, because I’m growing fond of a woman in my church, a married woman.”  More gasps.

But the fourth remained silent.  After a few minutes, the others coaxed him to open up.  “The fact is that I just don’t know how to tell you about my problem.”

“It’s all right, brother, your secret is safe with us,” said the others.

“Well, it’s this way,” he said, “You see, I’m an incurable gossip.”

Brothers and Sisters, jokes like this have shaped our view of priests, as if there is no difference between the life and work of a priest and that of other Christians.  That is true only up to a point.  We see another dimension to the life and work of priests when we consider it from the aspect of vocations, or the Call of God.  This is the aspect that the Church wants us to dwell on today, as we observe the World Day of Prayer for Vocations.  Today the Church invites us to reflect on the meaning of God’s call, and to pray for an increase in vocations.

To help us reflect on the meaning of the priestly vocation, let us not only pray for religious vocations, but also encourage and support young men and women who have the inclination to walk the less-travelled road.  If you feel you are called, or have the desire, to serve God and His people in a more meaningful way, and without having a family, a wife or children, then you are called to become a priest and to grab that opportunity given by God.  You should inquire further and discern God’s will.  You can consult me or some other priest regarding your desire, or call our Vocation Director.

One way of showing our love for God, especially for parents, is by supporting and encouraging our children to enter the priesthood.  The family is the seedbed of vocations; a fertile ground for more vocations.  Parents can demonstrate their faith in the way they encourage their children.

In last Sunday’s gospel, we heard Jesus three times give Peter the charge to “feed my sheep.”  In that way, He made Peter a shepherd, a pastor, a priest.  In today’s gospel, the Church presents to us the figure of Jesus, the Good Shepherd.  Our Lord continues His work of shepherding His people through Peter and his co-workers, the apostles and the disciples, and through their successors, the Pope, the bishops, priests, deacons, catechists, laypeople, and others.

Today is also known as Good Shepherd Sunday.  In today’s gospel, Jesus tells us what a good shepherd is.  A good shepherd is present, knows, directs, tends, and protects the sheep.

We who are in involved in shepherding others in one way or another, would do well to ask ourselves today if we are good or bad shepherds or shepherdesses, in the light of today’s gospel.

First of all, a shepherd must be present to the sheep.  How can the sheep hear someone who is absent, or is not accessible, or is hard to reach?  We can say anything we want, or put up numerous excuses and reasons, but being present and being with the sheep are very basic and important.

Second, a good shepherd knows the sheep, or at least takes time and gives effort to get to know the sheep.  We want shepherds who are genuinely interested and who genuinely care.  A text message says it beautifully:  People don’t care about what you know, as long as they know you care.

Third, a good shepherd leads and directs the sheep.  He or she must have an idea, a direction, of where to lead the sheep.  The good shepherd or shepherdess must have a clear vision and a strong sense of mission for the sheep.

Fourth, a good shepherd gives.  He or she must have a sense of sacrifice.  We need shepherds and shepherdesses who can also give us our sense of dignity, freedom, respect, and personhood.

Finally, a good shepherd protects the sheep.  He or she must be aware and must protect us from all that would harm us.  When push comes to shove, he or she must be ready to sacrifice life and limb for the good of the sheep.

So, Brothers and Sisters, on Good Shepherd Sunday, let us pray for more good shepherds of the church.  Let us also pray for a better understanding and appreciation of the life and work of ordained ministers, so that more and more people avail themselves of the grace which God makes available through them.  Let us also pray that more young people will be drawn to follow in their footsteps and generously answer the call of God.