These days have been strange for all of us. The 401 has little traffic during rush hour. Our sidewalks are almost empty. Many stores are closed or appear empty, except those selling groceries, which are packed. Kids not allowed to go to school. Parents not allowed to go to work. The elderly staying in their homes. Church closed and people not able to receive the Body of Christ. Strange days indeed! Within the cessation of so much activity, I have been surprised by the amount of distraction I feel in my soul. I watch news updates and press conferences from government leaders. I check the number of reported cases from the City of Toronto’s website several times a day. When I pray or try to think about God, I find my mind races to the newest piece of information from the health crisis. I think that my distraction is due to a common mistake. As usual, in my fear I have forgotten that God is with me and is with us. King David writes in the Psalm for this week: “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters; he restores my soul.” More than ever, such words are “music to my ears,” it is the remedy to my fearful and distracted heart.

Looking at the image of Divine Mercy, we are invited to testify that we trust in the Lord. Our trust in Christ is not a blind trust. Rather our growing trust is a result from what he reveals to us of God’s face. This Sunday the Lord comes across a man who was blind from birth. The man had been told that his blindness was because he had been “born entirely in sins.” The man also knew that no one who had been born blind had ever later received their sight. And so he appears not to have had hope. When Jesus came near to him, the man did not ask the Lord to heal him, to give him sight. Rather the Lord said, “he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him.” When Christ gave the man his sight, the miracle reveals two things. On the one hand, it shows the power of God, a sign to the people that Jesus was the Messiah. On the hand, it shows the reality of God’s face to us. Through his act of power, the Lord reveals to us his compassion and mercy. He shows to us that we are not mere afterthoughts for God – “Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff they comfort me.” It is hard for our minds and hearts to comprehend. We are not mere afterthoughts for God, rather for God we are everything. And so Jesus healed the man born blind on the Sabbath.

During these strange days we face many distractions caused by our fear. There are so many things that are unknown to us. As a consequence, I look to control things that can’t be controlled. In my futile effort, the fear then increases. I realize that I must allow God to bring his light to every part of my life. As Paul writes, “for everything that becomes visible is light. Therefore it is said, ‘Sleeper, awake! Rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.” Our trust in the Lord is not blind trust. Christ shows us the face of the Father. And it is a face of love, mercy and compassion. This has consequences for us. These days we do not walk alone, trying to control that which can’t be controlled. But remember – “for you are with me . . . and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long.”

Take Care and God Bless,

Fr John

There are a few occasions every year when I attend a fancy banquet. As I sit down I then nervously look at my table setting. There are big and small plates, soup and salad bowls, innumerable pieces of cutlery and a water glass placed in the perfect spot to make me uncertain whose glass it is. My nervousness is a result of my anxiety - I want to appear as if I know the proper etiquette and rules to such fancy eating. And so, I wait until someone else dives in and then I just do what they do. We are often concerned about doing what everyone expects. We follow the rules of proper decorum in an effort not to stand out, not to have fingers pointed in our direction. We want to appear as if fit in, as if we know the “secret handshake.” In this Sunday’s Gospel, we are presented with just such a situation, of what we think is proper in our relationship with God, and how the Lord reconfigures it through his Transfiguration.

Jesus was transfigured before three of the Apostles, namely, Peter, James and John. In his Transfiguration, the Lord revealed to them his full person, that is, perfectly human and perfectly divine. He showed them that he is not merely a carpenter, not merely a wise teacher but he is God. As the fulfillment of the law and Prophets, Moses and Elijah appear with him. We know that Peter offers to build three dwellings, one for Christ and two for Moses and Elijah. In mid-sentence, however, a cloud descended and overshadowed them. From within the cloud, they heard the voice of God the Father proclaim, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” At this, they were overcome by fear and “fell to the ground.” The Lord then touched them and said, “Get up and do not be afraid.”

The reaction of the three Apostles was correct, it was proper decorum. The presence of the cloud is meant to show that God is present. And when God is present in God’s power and majesty, it is not business as usual. God told Moses to remove Moses’ shoes when in his presence. The Shepherds were terrified when God was present in the plain outside Bethlehem. As creatures, it seems that we must not look upon the Creator, that we must retain a necessary and respectful distance, and that we must only pay homage and offer worship. The result of our proper decorum, of doing what we think is expected, is that, if you will, God remains there and we remain here. The Lord, however, touches the Apostles, and tells them to stand up and not to be afraid.

When he touches the Apostles, and tells them to stand up and not to be afraid, the Lord reconfigures our relationship with him, that is, with God. We want to show that we fit in, that we know what we’re supposed to do. We retain a distance between ourselves and God. It seems only “fitting and proper.” And yet, it isn’t God’s priority, it isn’t God’s will or desire. The Lord touched the Apostles, and told them to stand and not to be afraid. He has shown us God’s will and desire – not that we keep our distance, but rather that we open ourselves up to him, that we simply allow ourselves to be loved by God. We are overwhelmed by the anxiety of fitting in, gnawed by the doubt of its impossibility. God, however, is overwhelmed by love of his children, of us. In the Transfiguration, God is showing us that we fit in because God has made it so. God has made us his beloved children in whom God delights. Indeed, as Peter said, “Lord, it is good for us to be here.”

God Bless and Take Care! - Fr John

Image - The Transfiguration, 1603, painted by Franz Fallenter

By Fr John Sullivan, SJ

For most of my life, I understood God’s plan of salvation, especially the Incarnation, Passion and Resurrection in a more impersonal way. God did what God had to do in order that humanity might be redeemed and saved. And I could see my place in God’s plan as being a member of the flock or herd. I was just one head among many, utterly indistinguishable from the others. If we understand the will and action of God in this way, it makes it so difficult for our hearts to be touched and moved. Our faith and the practice of our Catholic Christianity can become mechanical, without feeling and superficial. When such a faith confronts the world, the temptations of the world will most likely overwhelm it. Most tragically, we will not receive the “free gift” of Jesus Christ, as St. Paul writes, that the “free gift in the grace of the one man, Jesus Christ, abounded for the many.” Perhaps this Sunday, we can begin to see and receive the free gift of Christ in a more personal way.

Some years ago, when I was on a retreat and was praying the three temptations that Christ faced in the desert, through the Holy Spirit I imagined myself seeing Christ enduring his suffering of the forty days. I saw him feeling great hunger and being tempted to eat. I saw him poor and being tempted to force the Father to send the Angels to serve him. I saw him alone and being tempted to receive the world’s adulation. As he suffered and struggled, I imagined him finding the strength to say “No!” to the Devil’s promptings. When the Devil spoke his lies, I saw the Lord looking at me. In a way, I was the cause of his strength. It is the depth of his love for me and you that that gave him the strength to refuse expose the temptations as mere straw. It is the depth of his love for you that the Lord said to the tempter, “Away with you, Satan!”

During our forty days of Lent, we have this most precious opportunity to receive the “free gift” of Christ more deeply within our hearts. To realize that each one of us is not an indistinguishable member of the herd. Rather, we are the reason for every word Jesus speaks. We are the reason for every action Jesus takes. The depth of his personal love frees us to understand the Incarnation, Passion and Resurrection in a new way. A way that is personal; a way that is formed by love; and, a way in which his gift of himself becomes our own. And our penance, prayer and almsgiving are done in response to what he has done – he has loved with a love beyond all telling. As we see him struggle beneath the weight of the Cross, we see a love that we do not fully comprehend but we know he is giving us life. And so, “O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare your praise.”

God Bless and Take Care - Fr John

Photo by Lesly Derksen on Unsplash

(Photo background by Aaron Burden on Unsplash)

Jesus instructs his followers (that’s us) to be “perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” This is a most astounding and intimidating teaching. As its expression, the Lord says that we are not to resist the evil doer; to offer one’s cheek if one has been hit on the other; to go the extra mile with a person; to give to anyone who begs; and, to love one’s enemies and pray for those who persecute or hurt you. If I were look at his teaching and seek to put it into practice, I would soon realize that it is beyond my strength and some, even outside of my desires. How can I live his teaching, how can I be perfect as my “heavenly Father is perfect”? The answer to my question is “I can’t.” I can’t turn the other cheek. I can’t love and pray for those who treat me badly. I can’t be perfect as the Father is perfect. All I do is trip and fall, all I do is make mistakes and give into temptation. So what’s the use, what’s the point? I always make the same mistake – I forget that I do not seek to follow the Lord alone, but rather I’m always with the Lord and the Lord is with me. And we seek to follow the Lord by a faith that may be fragile, is stronger in its desire than our discouragement of our failures. The movement within our hearts is stirred and enflamed by the witness of what he has done for us.

St. Paul poses a question in the Second Reading. He asks us, “Do you know that you are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in you?” I may think of myself in many different ways, but the notion that I’m God’s temple is not my usual first thought. Instead, I tend to think of myself as a disappointment to God. I may have moments of fidelity, but they are short lived. I’m like dead weight to the Lord and his more faithful followers. Yet, God has identified each of us as his temple. So much so that the Father has sent the Holy Spirit to dwell, to live within our hearts. It is amazing to comprehend that God refuses that there be an unbridgeable gap between himself and us. And so God lives within us and we are his temple. God’s identification does not permit debate or other possibilities. In our hearts we simply repeat those most beautiful words: God has chosen me to be his temple. It is from the acceptance of God’s will and judgement that we seek to follow the Lord and strive to be perfect. We come to know in our minds and hearts, little by little, that we are loved by the Father by a perfect love, a love that is eternal, is limitless. And so we put one foot in front of the other, seeking to love God back with a love that only grows and expands, to “be perfect, therefore, as your Heavenly Father is perfect.”

God Bless and Take Care - Fr John

St. Paul wrote in the Second Reading, “For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified.”  Through his incarnation, crucifixion and resurrection, the light that Jesus speaks of in this week’s Gospel is revealed to us.  In the Gospel the Lord identifies us as “the light of the world.”  He goes on to say that no one with such a light would ever cover it up, but rather the light would brighten the whole world.  Sometimes we think of this light as being the particular gifts a person may possess, for example, a person may be a good speaker, a brilliant student, a graceful athlete, a beautiful singer, an efficient worker, and so we think that it’s about letting these parts of a person to stand out and be used or to shine.  While it is true that we are to use the gifts that God has given to us, I think the Lord is speaking about something more primary, something much more foundational.  To be the light of the world, to retain our “saltiness” is to live according to God’s creation of the human person.  And our creation is that we are God’s children.  As God’s children we are given a definite dignity, a dignity that cannot be lost or taken.  When St. Paul proclaims nothing but Jesus Christ and his crucifixion, he is proclaiming the love of the Father for his daughters and sons.  And so, when a Christian lives with this knowledge in one’s heart, one lives a life consistently shining forth God’s light and love to the world. 

Pope Francis has described evangelization, the proclamation of the Good News, as being a work that resembles attraction. Our work in spreading the Good News is not about arguing or convincing others of some reasonable logic, but of shining forth the beauty of our faith in Christ Jesus; that every word we speak or action that we do emerges from our heart knowledge of being God’s children.  If we were not God’s children the sacrifice of the cross would make no sense.  When we know this in our minds and hearts we sort of “cross a line of no return.”  The person cannot live as they once lived, but now must live according to God’s law of love written on their hearts.  A child of God lives as Isaiah describes in the First Reading: “Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless into your house; [and] when you see the naked, to cover them?”  This Sunday we are again given a beautiful gift—to be who God has made us to be, that is, to be God’s beloved children.  And in this all our good works will give glory to our Father in heaven.

God Bless & Take Care!

The other day I was reading about an entertainer who has had a prolonged battle with addiction, even to the point of attempting to take her life. She said that she was trying to find a sense of more in life, of peace and the fullness of life. She said she didn’t realize it at the time, but she was really searching for God, even if, in all the wrong places. Though with perhaps less extremes, I think we can all relate to what she is saying. We feel a desire that reaches out for something more. It’s as if we are reaching for something but we not exactly sure what or where it is. But we’re not grasping at “thin air,” we are grasping and reaching for Him. For our God, for our Father. And so the words of the Psalm reverberate within our hearts - “Lift up your heads, O Gates! and be lifted up, O ancient doors! that the King of glory may come in.”

This Sunday we have the passage from Luke’s Gospel that describes the Presentation in the Temple. We see Mary and Joseph bring the baby Jesus to present him to God. In the temple there is both Simeon and Anna. Simeon and Anna have sought and longed for the coming of the Messiah. Both praise God when they see the baby Jesus. Simeon takes the baby in his arms and Anna speaks about the redemption of Jerusalem. On seeing the Lord, the “ancient doors” of their hearts were opened wide to receive the Lord into their lives. We too want to open wide the doors of our hearts to Him. And yet, at least for myself, despite my desire to open my heart, I can keep my foot on the door, ensuring it remain closed. There must be a reason why we seem to hesitate in letting the door be “opened wide.” The only reason that makes sense to me is that we are unsure what will happen if we let it be “opened wide.” We may long for something more, but we sure don’t want to put in jeopardy that which we already have or know. So the foot comes down and we keep it somewhat closed. But there is an answer to our hesitation, reluctance and uncertainty. It is found in the words of Simeon to Mary.

Simeon told Mary that “a sword will pierce your own soul too.” These words, spoken so near to Jesus’ birth, somewhat surprisingly point to his death on the Cross. As we read in the second reading from Hebrews: “It was fitting that God, for whom and through whom all things exist, in bringing many sons and daughters to glory, should make the source of their salvation perfect through sufferings.” While we try to find the trust, confidence and faith to let the doors of our hearts be “opened wide,” we can look to God’s actions. In Christ we see God seeking to reveal our salvation and redemption. God doesn’t force it upon us, but shows it to us in Christ. That is, the Lord came into the world for us; he gave everything he possesses for us; and, he gave even his life for us. Our hesitation and reluctance to let the Lord in fully is lessened by seeing clearly his motivation. It isn’t to coerce, to manipulate, to condemn, to destroy. It is to love. And this is the more we all long for. It isn’t a what but it is a who – it is the Lord!

God Bless & Take Care! - Fr John

Today we see our Lord among a hungry crowd. There are more than five thousand people gathered around him in a deserted place. They are hungry and there is little to no food, only five loaves of bread and two fish. This is not the first time God has heard the cries of hunger. In the Book of Exodus, the people of Israel were in the “wilderness” and were hungry. God sent them “manna.” In the Book of Numbers, Israel again complained of their hunger, remembering the fish they ate in Egypt. To their cry, God gave them quail. Christ hears their need and responds:

And taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke them, and gave them to the disciples to set before the crowd.

And all ate and were filled. What was left over was gathered up, twelve baskets of broken pieces.

It is clear that God hears and knows our needs. God sometimes responds directly and concretely, as with the feeding of the five thousand, while other times, indirectly and subtly. No matter in which way, we are able to see how God feeds, nurtures and cares for us, as his children. In what way does God continue to hear our cry of hunger here at Lourdes? And in what way does he seek to take care of us?

We may not be wandering in the “wilderness,” or remembering the fish we ate in Egypt or sitting in a deserted place, but like those in the Bible, we are hungry. And we are hungry for a very particular thing. If you watch Hollywood movies, listen to popular music, read novels or just hear the needs of your heart, what becomes obvious to us is that we long for love. We may long for love in family, romance or friendship, but so too do we all long for a love that comes from “on high” and from within. We all long for a love that is never lost nor ever ended. We all long for an eternal love, that is, we all long for the love of God our Father. As in the case of the People of Israel and the five thousand, God hears and knows our need, and so God feeds, nurtures and cares for us.
In the Second Reading, Saint Paul reminds us of the words the Lord spoke at the Last Supper. Jesus took the bread and said, “This is my Body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” When he took the cup he said, “This cup is the new covenant in my Blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.” At the end of the passage, Paul says, “For as often as you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.” The Body and Blood of the Lord, the Sacrament of the Eucharist, is both a concrete and subtle response to our need and hunger for love. In proclaiming his death we are proclaiming his love. And not just any love, but a very particular love – a love that gives all and a love that does not end. No matter what happens in one’s life, the eternal action of God’s full loving in the Eucharist is never lost. It is offered by our Father to you always. When you receive Communion, you are receiving the infinite love of the Father within your heart.

The devil is a great liar. He tells us that unless we’re successful in this or that, unless we achieve a certain status or accomplishment or unless we possess a number of things we will not be held as valued or loved. But when I lived on Smokey Mountain, the garbage dump of Manila, I realized that many of those who lived there, while they do not have many things, are still drawn by the desire to one day possess them. For example, at night many of the people on Smokey Mountain would gather around the one TV and watch “The Voice,” a sort of talent competition.

eople would talk about one day getting on “The Voice” and winning. And if they won they would have a place in the world and be judged as valuable and loveable. While understandable it’s still a belief about oneself derived from an origin other than God.

In the Trinity, God makes clear the extent to which we are valued and loved. It has nothing to do with how much we have or how much we don’t have, rather it is evident from his proclaimed truth: “God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son.”

In this single sentence we are given all. In Jesus Christ God shows us who we are. It is for us to imagine in our hearts that we are so loved by the Father that he would send his only Son, and for no other reason than to show us the value and the love God has for each of us. The more we point to things or achievements as signs of who we are or the discouragement we feel for the lack of things we have or succeed in, the more felt is our own poverty.

Before our Masses here at Lourdes, the Altar Servers, Ministers and Priests pray together in the sacristy. Sometimes a person may pray and ask that we not make a mistake. I find this an expression of sadness because it seems to say that God’s gratitude and love is dependent on our success. But Church, let us really listen to the words of Christ, “God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son.” The Son was sent not because we did this or that correctly but because God desires that our relationship with him be marked more by love than by anything else. When we do something wrong we never have to be fearful of God’s rejection because, as St. Paul writes, “Since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand.” The freedom that the children of God can know comes from this free and total gift of love in Christ. Our life-long task is not to accumulate the riches of this world nor to achieve a certain impressive status but it is to embrace in our hearts this total and free gift of God’s love. The life that we are invited to live is the life that is God himself, love that is the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit can be ours as well. And so we can “boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God” knowing that this hope will not disappoint us, “because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.” Let us live free by living in love.