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We have heard so much about how we should respond medically to the Coronavirus, but how should we respond spiritually? It is perhaps appropriate that concern for this virus is taking place during Lent, a time of prayer, penance, and sometimes suffering. Suffering, while never seen by the Church as a good in itself, nonetheless can lead to a supernaturally transformative quality that cannot be replaced by any other human experience. St. John Paul II put it this way: “It is suffering, more than anything else, which clears the way for the grace which transforms human souls (Salvifici Doloris, 27).” Through the uniting of our present sufferings, including those related to Coronavirus, to the sufferings of Jesus on the Cross, we can cause a supernatural release of the graces merited infinitely by Jesus on Calvary to be applied for the salvation of our brothers and sisters today. So, how should we as Catholics respond to the suffering, fear and anxiety that has been caused by this virus in recent weeks? In some ways human fear of the virus may be worse than the virus itself, so we should be practical and prayerful. Thus, the FIRST thing that we must do is to TRUST GOD. Viral disease is a fact of biological existence and a part of creation. Keeping perspective and not panicking apply here, just as they do for all risks we face as creatures in a finite world. No matter how dire circumstances get, the Lord remains our refuge and strength, “an ever-present help in trouble” (Ps. 46:1). To trust in the Lord amid trouble is to experience and bear witness to the power of Christ. Second, as our Blessed Mother has always told us, we must constantly PRAY. We must pray for the sick and the scared, for public health officials, for doctors and nurses, for researchers, and for caregivers. As Catholics, we believe prayer has power. As we seek help from the Lord, now is the time for us to increase our prayer response, which remains the perennial Christian remedy for greater fear and anxiety. Our third response is a very practical one, to HEAL THE SICK. A core calling for Catholics is to care for the sick and dying (Matt. 10:8), sometimes at the risk of our own lives (John 15:13). This is the epitome of love. Even if a virus outbreak prevents us from gathering as congregations to worship, we still support one another in our caregiving. This can happen through prayer, through verbal encouragement, and through coming alongside others to provide help in a crisis. Our fourth response is to STAY INFORMED. We live in the Communications Revolution. The media is aflame with daily updates, but we cannot overdo it. Reading, watching, and listening to everything only increases anxiety. So, be selective in where you receive your information and utilize only reliable sources. Our fifth response is to RECEIVE THE EUCHARIST. It is not an oversimplification to say that all human challenges can find their ultimate answer and remedy in the Eucharist. Jesus is the Eucharist. The Eucharist is Jesus. Christians believe that Jesus is the Alpha and the Omega, and his Sacred and Eucharistic Heart possesses a more effective solution and consolation to every human trial. Receive Jesus more frequently in Holy Communion, attend daily Mass, take some time each day to sit with Jesus in Eucharistic Adoration, and tell Him each worry of your heart. These are heavenly balms for earthly hearts that feel overburdened, and when utilized, one can typically feel the fear and anxiety dissipate by the moment. Finally, we should TURN TO MARY. Early Christians knew well the powerful result of invoking Mary, the Mother of God and the spiritual Mother of all peoples during times of disaster. Along with the great and powerful prayer of the Rosary, we can pray the ancient Marian prayer, Sub Tuum Praesidium (“Under Your Protection”, c.250 A.D.), which called upon the Mother of God particularly during times of trial and persecution in the early Church in order to receive her unparalleled motherly intercession in their gravest of necessities. This is a powerful prayer said frequently by all Piarists around the world in every language. The “Corona” virus, which named after the series of crown-like spikes on its surface, is causing a worldwide escalation in fear and anxiety and has the potential of creating worldwide economic recessions, cessations of global travel, international supply stoppages, and most importantly, monumental significant human suffering and loss of life. However, history, time and time again, testifies to the truth that invoking the Mother of all peoples at times of potential disaster leads to both personal spiritual peace and historic global peace. The Piarist Fathers also have another special Marian prayer that we recite, “The Crown (Corona) of the 12 Stars.” Perhaps instead of becoming anxious and fearful, it is time that we plunge into spiritual combat and have one Corona go up against another.       

In his 2019 World Day of Migrants and Refugees message, the Holy Father reiterates the Gospel command to avoid despising “one of these little ones, for I say to you that their angels in heaven always look upon the face of my heavenly Father” (Mt 18:10). It is not just about migrants: it is a question of seeing that no one is excluded. A globalization of indifference has led to many of us to ignore the cries of the poor, turn our backs on the marginalized, and remain indifferent to those struggling to find a better life. We are called to help create the conditions that will lead to a better life for everyone on the planet. From January 5-11, 2020, the Catholic Church in the United States will celebrate National Migration Week. The theme for this year’s celebration is “Promoting a Church and a World for All,” which reflects the need for Catholics to be inclusive and welcoming to all our brothers and sisters. It is a call for unity to stand in solidarity with and care for those who are excluded and marginalized. Welcoming the newcomer and promoting a church for all counters what Pope Francis has referred to as “a globalization of indifference,” which has led to many of us to ignore the cries of the poor, turn our backs on the marginalized, and remain indifferent to those struggling to find a better life. We are called to be an active Church in support of all of God’s children, for “the Church which ‘goes forth’... can move forward, boldly take the initiative, go out to others, seek those who have fallen away, stand at the crossroads and welcome the outcast” (Evangelii Gaudium, 24). It is with this ideal in mind – that we call for a church that welcomes, protects, promotes, and integrates all, including immigrants and refugees. These four verbs have been used by Pope Francis to frame our obligations toward migrant populations. As he expressed in his message: Welcoming means, above all, “offering broader options for migrants and refugees to enter destination countries safely and legally.” We must nurture societies that aim as much as possible to include, rather exclude. A culture of encounter that emphasizes humanity and inherent human dignity best counters anti-immigrant sentiment and welcoming is a vital step in that journey. Protecting migrants “may be understood as a series of steps intended to defend the rights and dignity of migrants, independent of their legal status.” The Catholic Church has long emphasized the importance of protecting the human dignity of migrants, both through the implementation of humane policies and through their accompaniment. Promoting essentially means a “determined effort to ensure that all migrants and refugees – as well as the communities which welcome them – are empowered to achieve their potential as human beings, in all the dimensions which constitute their humanity.” Of importance here is our obligation to institute practices and policies that will promote and preserve the integrity of the family, reaffirm family reunification, and make allowances for family members to work following their arrival to new destination countries. Integrating emphasizes the “opportunities for intercultural enrichment brought about by the presence of migrants and refugees.” Although the initial act of welcoming migrants is an important step, it is imperative that we go further and take the necessary steps that will help them to become active, participating members of our communities. Let us take some time during the upcoming National Migration Week to reflect on how we can better welcome, protect, promote, and integrate migrants living in our midst. How can we counter the globalization of indifference that affects us all, to some degree or another? What policies can we promote that will affirm the dignity of migrants and better secure the common good? How do we work more fully to promote a Church for all?

Why do we have Christmas trees in our church sanctuary? Christmas trees are a central part of Christmas celebrations around the world. Families gather around them to exchange gifts, cities put them up in squares and town halls, you'll find them in nearly every hotel and shopping mall. While several non-Christian cultures brought evergreen plants indoors at the time of the winter solstice, legend holds that St. Boniface was the first to co-opt the Christmas tree tradition for Christianity in the 8th century. He was attempting to convert the Druids who worshipped oak trees as the symbol of their idol. After cutting down their “Thunder Oak” and noticing a small evergreen that was growing next to it, he instead offered to them the balsam fir tree, using its triangular shape to describe the Trinity and the fact that his evergreen boughs pointed to heaven, as a symbol of God. The first use of Christmas trees as they're known today dates back to either Germany or Latvia in the 1500s. Christmas trees, like most Christmas traditions other than Church services, were adopted late in America. The Puritans frowned on all such “pagan” traditions. In 1659, the General Court of Massachusetts made any observance of Christmas other than a church service a penal offense. It wasn’t until an influx of German and Irish immigrants came in the 19th century that the Puritan legacy was undermined. In 1846, Queen Victoria and Prince Albert (who was German) were pictured in the London News standing with their children around a Christmas tree. As a result, the popularity of Christmas trees soared, both in England and America. By 1920, the custom was almost universal. Today we can firmly claim the symbol as a Christian one. Many families bless their Christmas trees and the symbol of a tree has deep roots in our faith. “We are reminded that our first parents were not allowed to eat from one tree and that Christ paid the great price for our redemption by hanging on a tree.” In addition, the evergreen boughs and the lights that decorate them do remind us that Christ is the light of the world and that His light is everlasting. He has come to bring joy and light into our dark world.

The Season of Advent Advent begins on the Sunday right after Thanksgiving. Applying the rule from the New General Roman Calendar: Advent begins with First Vespers (Evening Prayer I) of the Sunday that falls on the closest to November 30, and it ends before First Vespers of Christmas. Advent starts the new Liturgical Year and can be seen as another opportunity to spiritually begin anew. Holy Mother Church knows how many times we need to start again! There are particular themes in the Liturgy throughout Advent: a spirit of waiting, of conversion and joyful hope. These liturgical themes inspire what we do with the family or Domestic Church during Advent. One major theme of Advent is coming. The word "advent" means the arrival or "coming" of a notable person, thing, or event. In Latin, the word "Advent" had an intriguing range of meanings. Adventus is a form of the verb advenio which is defined not only as arrive, come to, but also as develop, set in, and arise. Adventus itself also refers to an invasion, incursion, ripening, and appearance—all denotations that are rich with implications for the gospel accounts of Christ. The relationship between adventus and military comings is especially noteworthy. In ancient Rome, Adventus was a technical term for the ‘glorious entry’ of an emperor into his capital city. Often this happened after a military victory. In addition to celebrating conquest on the battlefield, the birthday of the royal leader was also commemorated in an Adventus. Now it makes sense why the liturgical color of Advent is royal purple. Another major theme of Advent is waiting. It is not idle waiting, but waiting in a spirit of preparation. There are three ways we are waiting for the coming of Christ: in history, in mystery, and in majesty. In History: We recall the Old Testament waiting for the Son of God to be born at Bethlehem. In Mystery: We await Christ’s coming at Mass in the Eucharist and prepare for our reception of Him at Communion. In Majesty: Our true preparation of Advent is preparing our hearts for Christ for our final judgment at Parousia, the end of time “when God will be all in all.” These are the three comings of Christ that we contemplate during Advent. So often the emphasis is placed on Christ at Bethlehem, but if we listen carefully to the Liturgy there are also many eschatological reminders, urging us to prepare for the Second Coming of Christ. Our waiting involves preparedness, just like the Wise Bridesmaids in the parable. We must keep our eyes on the coming of Christ and not end up without extra lamp oil.

What is Purgatory? During this month of November, we will pray often for the poor souls in purgatory. For too many people purgatory is seen as a place located somewhere between heaven and hell. However, the Catechism of the Catholic Church defines purgatory as a “purification, so as to achieve the holiness necessary to enter the joy of heaven,” which is experienced by those “who die in God’s grace and friendship but are still imperfectly purified” (CCC 1030). It notes that “this final purification of the elect . . . is entirely different from the punishment of the damned” (CCC 1031). Such purification is necessary because, as Scripture teaches, “nothing unclean will enter the presence of God in heaven” (Rev. 21:27) and, while we may die with our mortal sins forgiven, there can still be many impurities in us, specifically venial sins and the temporal punishment due to sins already forgiven. When we die, we undergo what is called the particular, or individual, judgment. Scripture says that “it is appointed for men to die once, and after that comes judgment” (Heb. 9:27). We are judged instantly and receive our reward, for good or ill. We know at once what our final destiny will be. At the end of time, when Jesus returns, there will come the general judgment to which the Bible refers, for example, in Matthew 25:31-32: “When the Son of man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on his glorious throne. Before him will be gathered all the nations, and he will separate them one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats.” In this general judgment all our sins will be publicly revealed (Luke 12:2–5). St. Augustine said in The City of God that “temporary punishments are suffered by some in this life only, by others after death, by others both now and then; but all of them before that last and strictest judgment.” It is between the particular and general judgments, then, that the soul is purified of the remaining consequences of sin: “I tell you, you will never get out till you have paid the very last copper” (Luke 12:59). Praying for the dead is an ancient Church practice. Graffiti in the catacombs, where Christians fled during the persecutions of the first three centuries, recorded prayers for the dead. Indeed, some of the earliest Christian writings outside the New Testament, like the Acts of Paul and Thecla and the Martyrdom of Perpetua and Felicity (both written during the second century), refer to the Christian practice of praying for the dead. St. Monica, the mother of St. Augustine asked her son, in the fourth century, to remember her soul in his Masses. Such prayers would have been offered only if Christians believed in purgatory, even if they did not use that name for it. A study of the history of doctrines indicates that Christians in the first centuries were up in arms  if anyone suggested the least change in beliefs. They were extremely conservative people who tested a doctrine’s truth by asking, Was this believed by our ancestors? Was it handed on from the apostles? Surely belief in purgatory would be considered a great change, if it had not been believed from the beginning. Some people claim that the Bible speaks only of heaven and hell, but they are wrong. Scripture speaks plainly of a third condition, commonly called the limbo of the Fathers, where the just who had died before the redemption were waiting for heaven to be opened to them. After his death and before his resurrection, Christ visited those experiencing the limbo of the Fathers and preached to them the good news that heaven would now be opened to them (1 Pet. 3:19). These people thus were not in heaven, but neither were they experiencing the torments of hell. Thus, Scripture teaches that purgatory exists, even if it doesn’t use that word. Christ refers to the sinner who “will not be forgiven, either in this age or in the age to come” (Matt. 12:32), suggesting that one can be freed after death of the consequences of one’s sins. Similarly, Paul tells us that, when we are judged, each man’s work will be tried. And what happens if a righteous man’s work fails the test? “He will suffer loss, though he himself will be saved, but only as through fire” (1 Cor 3:15). Now this loss, this penalty, can’t refer to consignment to hell, since no one is saved there; and heaven can’t be meant, since there is no suffering (“fire”) there. The Catholic doctrine of purgatory alone explains this passage. Then, of course, there is the Bible’s approval of prayers for the dead: “In doing this he acted in a very excellent and noble way, inasmuch as he had the resurrection of the dead in view; for if he were not expecting the dead to rise again, it would have been useless and foolish to pray for them in death. But if he did this with a view to the splendid reward that awaits those who had gone to rest in godliness, it was a holy and pious thought. Thus he made atonement for the dead that they might be freed from this sin” (2 Macc. 12:43–45). Prayers are not needed by those in heaven, and no one can help those in hell. This verse so clearly illustrates the existence of purgatory that, at the time of the Reformation, Protestants had to cut the books of the Maccabees out of their Bibles in order to avoid accepting the doctrine. Prayers for the dead and the consequent doctrine of purgatory have been part of the true religion since before the time of Christ. Not only can we show it was practiced by the Jews of the time of the Maccabees, but it has even been retained by Orthodox Jews today, who recite a prayer known as the Mourner’s Kaddish for eleven months after the death of a loved one so that the loved one may be purified. It was not the Catholic Church that added the doctrine of purgatory. Rather, the Protestant churches rejected a doctrine that had always been believed by Jews and Christians. Catholic theology takes seriously the notion that “nothing unclean shall enter heaven.” From this it is inferred that a less than cleansed soul isn’t fit for heaven. It needs to be cleansed or “purged” of its remaining imperfections. Sanctification is thus not an option, something that may or may not happen before one gets into heaven. It is an absolute requirement, as Hebrews 12:14 states that we must strive “for the holiness without which no one will see the Lord.”

The Bible tells us that when Jesus returns to earth, he will physically raise all those who have died, giving them back the bodies they lost at death. These will be the same bodies people had in earthly life—but our resurrection bodies will not die and, for the righteous, they will be transformed into a glorified state, freed from suffering and pain, and enabled to do many of the amazing things Jesus could do with his glorified body (cf. 1 Cor. 15:35–44, 1 John 3:2). The resurrection of the body is an essential Christian doctrine, as the apostle Paul declares: “[I]f the dead are not raised, then Christ has not been raised. If Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ have perished” (1 Cor. 15:13–18). Because, as Paul tells us, the Christian faith cannot exist without this doctrine, it has been infallibly defined by the Church. It is included in the three infallible professions of faith—the Apostles’ Creed, the Nicene Creed, and the Athanasian Creed—and has been solemnly, infallibly taught by ecumenical councils. The Fourth Lateran Council (1215), infallibly defined that at the second coming Jesus “will judge the living and the dead, to render to every person according to his works, both to the reprobate and to the elect. All of them will rise with their own bodies, which they now wear, so as to receive according to their deserts, whether these be good or bad [Rom. 2:6–11]” (constitution 1). Most recently, the Catechism of the Catholic Church reiterated this long-defined teaching, stating, “‘We believe in the true resurrection of this flesh that we now possess’ (Council of Lyons II). We sow a corruptible body in the tomb, but he raises up an incorruptible body, a ‘spiritual body’ (cf. 1 Cor 15:42–44)” (CCC 1017).

The Liturgy of the Eucharist wasn’t an invention of the apostles or something Jesus created out of nowhere. A long tradition says it was a transformation of a Jewish liturgy: The Passover meal, or Seder, as it later became known, and any attentive Jew will hear a lot of references to the Passover at a Catholic Mass. In Egypt, God commanded his people to have a meal before freeing them from the land of Egypt. At the time of Jesus, the Passover lambs had to be sacrificed at the Jerusalem Temple because sacrifice became a right reserved to the Levite priests. Thus, the Passover had to be celebrated in Jerusalem. The Israelites had to eat the flesh of the sacrifice, whose blood was spread to saved them from the death of their first-born child. Having unleavened bread was a sign of the haste with which they left Egypt – they had no time to let it rise. God commanded the Israelites to remember this day generation after generation. It was seen not only as a remembrance but also a sharing in the very mystery of the Passover. The father of the family would explain to his children the story and the symbolism behind the bread and other foods. At the time of Jesus, a new theory had developed among many Jews, believing that the Messiah would deliver them on the night of the Passover and bring about a new covenant and new exodus, as God had delivered their ancestors from the land of Egypt. Around the time of Jesus, the Jewish Seder meal became divided into the blessing of four cups. This structure also called for the reading of the Hebrew Scriptures and closing hymns. John says the Last Supper took place on the Passover Preparation Day, while Matthew, Mark and Luke say that the Last Supper was a Passover meal: “I have earnestly desired to eat this Passover with you,” (Lk 22: 14-15). They also say that it was done in the evening and in Jerusalem, as was required. The Gospels also include an explanation of the meaning of the bread by Jesus and the conclusion with a hymn. Luke mentions that Jesus had more than one cup: “A cup” and then “the cup after supper” (Lk 22:14-20), and there are reasons to think that a form of the four-cup tradition was being used at that meal, especially because it helps explain other allusions to a “fourth cup” by Jesus. Based on clues from the Gospel narrative, the cups mentioned must have been the second and third out of the four. The first cup was for an introduction of the meal; the second was tied to the explanation of the bread and food symbols; the third people drank at the end of the supper; and the fourth was the closing cup after the final hymn. Jesus shifts the focus from the remembrance of the old covenant to the “New Covenant” to be brought about by the Messiah at the Last Supper: “This chalice which is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood” (Lk 22:20). Thus, he establishes the new Passover in the following way: The Passover liturgy revolved around the body and blood of the lamb. Jesus now focuses on his own body and blood, placing himself as the sacrificial lamb. He takes the bread and explains it in a new light: “This is my body.” He then takes the wine and says, “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins” (Mt 26:27-28). Any Jew would have understood Jesus saying, “I am the new Passover lamb… This is the Passover of the Messiah, and I am the new sacrifice.” Instead of drinking what would’ve been the fourth cup of the Passover, Jesus says he will not drink wine again until he drinks it in the kingdom. In its place, after singing the final hymn, he goes straight to the Mount of Olives with his disciples (Mt 26:27-30). This action would have puzzled the apostles because it meant leaving the Passover meal unfinished. For Jesus, that fourth cup was his sacrifice. In Gethsemane he prayed to the Father three times about the cup of his death he must drink… “Let this cup pass from me” (Mt 26:36-46). It is not until he is about to die on the cross that he asks for the last cup, saying, “I thirst.” After he drinks from the sponge full of wine, he exclaims, “It is finished.” It was then that he finished the Last Supper – on the cross right before he died. Jesus interwove his own sacrifice into the Passover mystery, as the sacrificial lamb, to bring about the Passover of the Messiah for the salvation all. This New Passover is the Eucharistic celebration of the Mass. Jesus instituted a new Passover liturgy that was tied to his death, and at every Mass when we receive Holy Communion, we eat the flesh of the new Passover lamb, Jesus himself, and we drink his blood, the fourth cup. It’s the new covenant that brings about a new exodus, not from Egyptian slavery, but from the slavery of sin, and takes us to the Promised Land.

Protestants often claim that the Church that Jesus founded was the “Christian Church,” not the Catholic Church. The biblical evidence cited for this claim is found in the Acts of the Apostles: “So Barnabas went to Tarsus to look for Saul; and when he had found him, he brought him to Antioch. For a whole year, they met with the church, and taught a large company of people; and in Antioch, the disciples were for the first time called Christians” (Acts 11:25-26). No doubt, disciples in the early Church became known as Christians. But does this mean that their Church was not called the Catholic Church? One of the things Peter did before he went to Rome was to found the church in Antioch, the third largest city in the Roman Empire at the time. He ordained a disciple there named Evodius to the episcopacy and appointed him the bishop of Antioch. Evodius is believed by many to have been one of the seventy disciples Jesus appointed to go ahead of him to the towns and places where he taught during his second missionary journey. It was during Evodius’s reign as bishop of Antioch that the “disciples” there were for the first time called Christians. But, while Paul was teaching the Christians in Antioch during Evodius’s reign, another young disciple was moving up through the ranks. His name was Ignatius, and he would later become known as Saint Ignatius of Antioch, an early Christian martyr. Ignatius was a disciple of John. Legend has it that, much earlier in his life, Ignatius was the child whom Jesus took in his arms in a passage recorded by Mark: [Jesus] sat down and called the twelve; and he said to them, “If anyone would be first, he must be last of all and servant of all.” And he took a child, and put him in the midst of them; and taking him in his arms, he said to them, “Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me; and whoever receives me, receives not me but him who sent me.” (Mark 11:35-37) This legend demonstrates the great esteem his memory has enjoyed since the early centuries of the Church. At Antioch, Ignatius was ordained by Paul, and then, at the end of the reign of Evodius, he was appointed the bishop of Antioch by Peter. He reigned there for many years before his martyrdom in Rome. On his way to Rome to be martyred, he wrote several letters to fellow Christians in various locations, expounding on Christian theology. He especially emphasized unity among Christians and became known as an Apostolic Father of the Church. In one of his letters (to Christians in Smyrna), he wrote, “Where there is Christ Jesus, there is the Catholic Church.” This is the earliest known written record of the term “Catholic Church” (written around A.D. 107), but Ignatius seemingly used it with the presumption that the Christians of his day were quite familiar with it. In other words, even though his is the earliest known written record of the term, the term likely had been in use for quite some time by then, dating back to the time of the apostles. The term “Catholic Church” (Gk. katholike ekklesia) broadly means “universal assembly,” and Ignatius used it when writing to the Christians of Smyrna as a term of unity. He exhorted these Christians to follow their bishop just as the broader universal assembly of Christians follows Christ. He clearly uses the terms “Christian” and “Catholic Church” distinctly: disciples of Christ are Christians; the universal assembly of Christians is the Catholic Church. Thus, we see that the Christians of Antioch were part of the Catholic Church. They were indeed Christian disciples, but they were also Catholic. Given the unbroken chain of succession at Antioch—from Peter (sent by Christ) to Evodius to Ignatius—if any Christian today wishes to identify with the biblical Christians of the first century mentioned in Acts 11, it follows quite logically that he must also identify with those same Christians’ universal assembly: the Catholic Church.

A couple of Sundays ago Abraham told the wealthy many who had died, 'If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone should rise from the dead,” and today in the Year A Gospel, which is read at those Masses in which the third Scrutiny will be celebrated, Lazarus does rise from the dead. Now, some people find it hard to accept that God would love some people more than others. That wouldn’t be fair, they say. But God became man. If he did not love some more than others, Jesus wouldn’t be fully human. For human beings have family and friends. While we can do good and even risk our lives for a stranger, we have special bonds of intimacy and affection with a rather small circle. Out of twelve, Jesus had one who was especially beloved. In the Gospel of this beloved disciple, we learn that Jesus had one family who was particularly beloved in this way. The family was that of Mary, Martha, and their brother Lazarus. So it was a surprise to all that Jesus did not come immediately when he heard that Lazarus was ill. Of course he was a busy man. But Jesus had dropped everything many times before to heal strangers. This, on the other hand, was one of his dearest friends. Do not worry, he explained to his disciples. This sickness would not end in death. So. imagine their surprise when he tells them a few days later that Lazarus is dead and that it’s time to visit his grave. Jesus knew what he was going to do. Yet, when he was met by a distraught Mary and her weeping companions, he did not rebuke them for crying. He did not say they should wear white and rejoice that their brother had finally gone home to heaven. No, he wept with them. Some people accept death as a natural part of human life. Others think death to be merely a portal to eternity. Jesus saw death as an enemy. His Father had never intended for us to experience it. In fact, he forbade Adam and Eve only one thing – to eat a fruit that would make them subject to it. Death came into the world through the envy of the devil, not through the plan of God. Death wrenches a soul from its body. It rips loved ones from the embrace of their families. So in the presence of those wounded by death’s sting, Jesus weeps. Jesus’ miracles in the gospels always spring from his compassion for the suffering. But he always has more in mind than helping just the victim lying before him. His miraculous works in John’s gospel are called signs because they point beyond themselves to something even greater he will do to gain a greater benefit for all. This is why Jesus allowed Lazarus to die in the first place. Because when he called him forth from the tomb, Jesus was making clear why he had come. His teaching was, of course, sublime. And his cures were life-changing. But wise and healthy people still face the horror of death. If Jesus were really the savior, he had to save us from the grave. And the salvation would have to be a permanent one. Lazarus’ resuscitation was only a stay of execution. A few years later, the mourners would have to assemble around his bedside once again. The raising of Lazarus was a sign of Christ’s power over death. He is “the life” who pulls down that wall that can seem so impenetrable to us: the wall of death. It shows us Christ’s lordship over death. Christ gives us a trustworthy hope of life beyond death. We need Martha’s faith in the midst of the doubts and fears we might encounter in the face of tragedies, especially in the face of death. So, in the presence of the great crowd assembled for the funeral, Jesus called Lazarus out of the tomb. This demonstration of Jesus’ power over death was a sign of his own coming resurrection, and of Lazarus’s and ours as well. This is the seventh and last recorded miracle or “sign” in John’s gospel. Jesus knew it would be. You and I might expect that the news of this miracle, brought back to Jerusalem by numerous eye-witnesses, would lead to the acceptance of Jesus as Lord and Messiah. But the Lord knew it would have the exact opposite effect. It demonstrated to his enemies just how great a threat he was. They had to act fast to stop this sort of thing from getting out of hand. But that was all part of his plan. For he was in total control. He planned to lay his life down willingly, to experience the horrible torture of crucifixion, the bitter wrenching of the body from a soul and one friend from another friend. He was willing to do this because, by means of it, he knew he would accomplish more for us than he had for Lazarus–a victory over death that would last forever. The raising of Lazarus from the dead points to our rising in faith to a new and eternal life through Baptism. Water, light, and life! Are YOU convinced?

On this, the Sunday within the Octave of Christmas, we honor the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph.  The Feast has its origins in the 17th century when devotion to the Holy Family was quite strong, but today’s feast was instituted by Pope Leo XIII in 1893 and was extended to the whole Roman Church by Pope Benedict XV in 1921. In honoring the Holy Family, we also honor all families, big or small.  And in honoring all families, we honor the family of God, the Church.  But most especially, we focus in on the hidden, day-to-day life of the Holy Family of Nazareth. St. John Paul II once reflected on the Holy Family, how it sanctifies families and what we can learn from meditating upon the life that Jesus, Mary and Joseph shared together in Nazareth. “For every believer, and especially for Christian families, the humble dwelling place in Nazareth is an authentic school of the Gospel. Here we admire and put into practice the divine plan to make the family an intimate community of life and love; here we learn that every Christian family is called to be a small "domestic church" that must shine with the Gospel virtues,” said St. John Paul II to the crowd. “Recollection and prayer, mutual understanding and respect, personal discipline and community asceticism and a spirit of sacrifice, work and solidarity are typical features that make the family of Nazareth a model for every home.”

The Solemnity of Christ the King The Liturgical Year Comes to an End This Sunday we celebrate the Feast of Christ the King. It is one of many opportunities the Catholic Liturgical Church year offers to each of us to consider really living differently. Yet, for many Catholics who commemorate the Feast, it is just one more somewhat esoteric celebration which we go through every year at this time. The feast is a relatively recent one. It was instituted in 1925, by Pope Pius XI. During its celebration, many Catholics go on procession, singing praises, while a priest carries the Eucharistic in a monstrance to pray for peace. The Catholic teaching of receiving time as a gift from God is one of the many things which make us counter-cultural. In fact, the number of things which make us counter-cultural is increasing as the West abandons its foundations in Christendom and embraces a secularist delusion. Our actually choosing to live the Christian year, in a compelling way, can become a profoundly important form of missionary activity in an age which has become deluded by the barrenness of secularism. A robust, evangelically alive and symbolically rich practice of living liturgically can invite our neighbors to examine their lives and be drawn to the One who is its source - Jesus Christ, the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End - as the emptiness of a life without God fails to fulfill the longing in their own hearts. In a particular way, Catholics are invited to mark time by the great events of the Christian faith in a Liturgical calendar. However, like so much that is contained within the treasury of the Catholic Church; the practice must be understood in order to be fully received as a gift. Jesus Christ is King and we are the seeds of His Kingdom scattered in the garden of a world which is waiting to be born anew. The Church, as a mother and a teacher, invites us to live the rhythm of the liturgical year in order to help us walk into a deeper encounter with the Lord and bring the whole world with us into the new world of the Church. The Church really IS the Mystical Body of the Risen Christ. That Body is inseparably joined to the Head. Jesus Christ is alive; he has been raised; and he continues His redemptive mission now through the Church, of which we are members. The early Catholics, before they were even called Christians, were referred to as the Way. (Acts 9:2, Acts 11:26) That was because they lived a very different way of life. A Way of Life which drew men and women to the One whose name they were soon privileged to bear, Jesus the Christ. We do not really go to Church; we live in the Church and go into the world, to bring the world, through the waters of new birth, into the Church as a new home, a new family. There, people will find the grace needed to begin a whole new way of living.  Christians believe in a linear timeline in history. There is a beginning and an end, a fulfillment, which is, in fact, a new beginning. The final Sunday of the church Year, the Feast of Christ the King, is the day when we are invited to commemorate His sovereignty over all men, women and children. Jesus Christ has come. Jesus Christ is coming. Jesus Christ will come again. Jesus Christ is Lord of All. Next week, we will celebrate the First Sunday of Advent, and begin the time of preparation for the great Feast of the Nativity of Our Savior. We are moving forward and toward His loving return. The Church, to use the beautiful imagery of the early Christian fathers, was birthed from the wounded side of the Savior on the Cross at Calvary's hill. Our Catholic liturgical year follows a rhythmic cycle which points us toward beginnings and ends. In doing so, it emphasizes important truths that can only be grasped through faith. Our Catholic faith and its Liturgical practices proclaim to a world hungry for meaning that Jesus Christ is the "Alpha", (the first letter of the Greek alphabet) and the "Omega" (the last letter), the beginning and the end. He is the Giver, the Governor, and the fulfillment of all time. In Him, the whole world is being made new and every end becomes a beginning for those with the greatest treasure, living faith. Those Baptized into Jesus Christ continue His redemptive mission until He returns to establish His Reign. We do this by living in His Body, the Church, and drawing the whole world into the New World beginning now. The Church is, in one of the early father's favorite descriptions, that "New World". This new family of the Church was then sent on mission. In our celebration of a Church Year, we not only remember the great events of the life, ministry and mission of the Lord, we also celebrate the life and death of our family members, the Saints, who have gone on before us, in the worlds of the Liturgy, "marked with the sign of redemption" as we pray in the Liturgy. They are models and companions for the journey of life and are our great intercessors; that "great cloud of witnesses" (Hebrews 12:1) whom the author of the letter to the Hebrews extols. This is the heart of understanding the "communion of saints". As St. Paul reminded the Roman Christians, not even death separates us any longer. (Romans 8:38, 39) They will welcome us into eternity and help us along our daily path through both their example and their prayer. As we progress through liturgical time we are invited to enter into the great events of faith. So, on this last week of the year, through our readings and liturgical prayer, we are invited to reflect on the "last things"- death, judgment, heaven and hell. We do so in order to change, to be converted; to enter more fully into the Divine plan. Today, as the Western Church year ends, we celebrate the full and final triumph and return of the One through whom the entire universe was created - and in whom it is being "recreated" - and by whom it will be completely reconstituted and handed back to the Father at the "end" of all time. That end will mark the beginning of a timeless new heaven and a new earth when "He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there shall be no more death." (Revelations 21:4). As we move from one Church year to the next, we also move along in the timeline of the human life allotted to each one of us. We age, and the certainty of our own death is meant to illuminate our life and the certainty of the end of all time is meant to illuminate its purpose and culmination in Christ. For both to be experienced by faith we must truly believe in Jesus Christ, who is the beginning and the end. And when we do, death can become, as we move closer to it, something wonderful - a second birth. The Church Fathers were fond of a Latin phrase "Carpe Diem", which literally means "Seize the day." For we who are living in communion in Christ Jesus, that phrase can take on a whole new meaning. We always journey toward the "Day of the Lord", when He will return as King. We should seize that day as the reference point for all things on this last week of the year, and we can live our lives as though His day is the milestone and marker for all that we do, revealing the path along which we become new - beginning now.

Many people have recently asked me, “What is happening to the Church?” And i believe that I have a valid answer to that question. In my opinion, almost every single major problem the Church has flows from one central issue: Our spiritual health is deteriorating. In most places in the western world, Catholic Mass attendance is well below 40 percent. In other words, 60 percent of all Catholics willfully starve themselves spiritually, and an even greater number allow this to fester as the worthy reception of Holy Communion and the use of the Sacrament of Reconciliation is widely disregarded and abandoned. In other words, the overwhelming majority of Catholics in the United States and in the West have abandoned the sacramental life of the Church. And that sickness infects every aspect of our life: our finances, our institutions, vocations, outreach, and, yes, even the quality of our clergy. This is the root of what empties our convents, monasteries, seminaries, and closes our parishes. While we can ask ourselves important questions, such as: Did a falling sense of transcendence cause the fall in Mass attendance or did a fall in Mass attendance create a rush to make the Mass “more relevant” in order to retain those who stayed? the answer to that question is probably a little bit of both. People are widely discussing the quality of today’s clergy. But remember that the clergy does not come from a special and dedicated sector of society. We do not have a special priestly or Levitical tribe or state or town. Nor is priesthood something that is passed down from father to son. All Catholic priests have spent the first 25 or more years of their lives living among the ranks of the laity, and it is while living in the ranks of the laity, especially in their families, that they learned (or should have learned) the importance of prayer and selfless service, as we heard described in last week’s gospel. It is while living in their family unit that they should have learned the necessity of fidelity and chastity, and once the “Domestic Church” (the family) started coming undone, it affected everything it touched. From the Domestic Church comes the next generation of quality clergy, and with the deterioration of the family, it initiated a vicious downward cycle. Once the Domestic Church became a place where we became comfortable with sin, a clergy was produced that also was comfortable with sin. This, in turn, taught each succeeding generation to be more comfortable with sin, which, in turn, created more Domestic Churches, which became even more comfortable with sin, and so on. You see, the more comfortable we become with sin, the more uncomfortable we become with grace, and the more comfortable we become with sin, the more uncomfortable we became with Confession and Mass and the importance of receiving the Body and Blood of Christ. Perhaps this is why each succeeding generation drifts further and further away until many Masses in many parishes are primarily seas of gray hair. Perhaps that is why we see fewer couples marrying in the Church, fewer baptisms, fewer Catholic funerals, fewer students enrolled in Catholic education programs, and fewer faithful young men enrolling in our seminaries. In starving ourselves spiritually, we have as a Church become spiritually anemic. This is why I believe that a focus of the restoration of the Domestic Church is absolutely necessary to the restoration of the Catholic Church as a whole. This is why it is so very important that all families, especially those with children, must go to Mass together and receive Holy Communion. We must spend some regular time in prayer both as individuals and as a family before the Blessed Sacrament. We must marry in the Church that person with whom we want to spend the rest of our lives and raise our families. We must Baptize our children. We must have celebrated a Funeral Mass when we bury our dead. Our children must be Confirmed. We must not just ask that people pray for our sick; we must ask the priest to anoint our family members who are very sick. And, it is vital that all Catholics make better use of the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Too many people heard that you are only REQUIRED to go to confession when you have committed grave mortal sin, and since most of us have not murdered anyone recently, we do not HAVE to go to confession. What we seem not to have heard is that the Church ENCOURAGES frequent reception of Holy Communion and the frequent celebration of Reconciliation in order to receive the SANCTIFYING GRACE that comes with receiving the sacraments. And just what is sanctifying grace? it is, according to the catechism, ”The gratuitous gift that God makes to us of his own life, infused by the Holy Spirit into our soul to heal it of sin and to sanctify it.” That is why the Catechism of the Catholic Church (also in para. 1999) notes that sanctifying grace has another name: deifying grace, or the grace that makes us godlike. We first receive this grace in the sacrament of Baptism; it is the grace that makes us part of the Body of Christ, able to receive the other graces God offers and to make use of them to live holy lives. The Sacrament of Confirmation perfects Baptism, by increasing sanctifying grace in our soul. Sanctifying grace is also sometimes called the "grace of justification," as the Catechism notes in paragraph 1266; that is, it is the grace which makes our soul acceptable to God. If we can get families to quit starving themselves sacramentally, if we can get our families to desire grace over sin, and if we can get our families to fully accept the grace God wants to give them, IT WILL CHANGE EVERYTHING for the better. Those families will become the way Christ will restore His Church. Those are the families that will produce the future clergy who will teach what has been taught to them–who have grown in an incubator of prayer, service, and fidelity and who will teach the necessity of such to the next group of burgeoning Domestic Churches. For my part, as a pastor of souls, I must emphasize this in the Mass, make this clear in our educational programs and activities, and make a clarion call to all families that fall under my pastoral care. We must do everything we can to strengthen our families as places of grace fed by the sacramental life of the Church. BUT, in order to do this, we must become people who are uncomfortable with sin and who seek comfort in the mercy and forgiveness of Jesus Christ. We must understand and believe that the superior way laid out by Christ necessitates that we abandon sin and embrace grace. I truly believe that by fully embracing the sacramental life of the Church, it will bring a springtime of growth, one which will replace the long winter of our discontent. But, it starts in the family; it starts with the laity; it starts within the Domestic Church.

July is popularly called the month of the Precious Blood. This is because the first of July is the feast of the Most Precious Blood of the Savior, which Bl. Pius IX established in the 1800s. So, what do we understand by the worship of or devotion to the Precious Blood of Jesus? St. Paul clearly attributes a power to the Blood of Christ when he wrote to the Ephesians that “You who were once far off have become near by the blood of Christ.” What is this power? After all, blood separated from a body is just a material substance, and it corrupts very quickly unless preserved under very careful conditions; it’s hard to see how it could have any real power by itself. Not only that, blood is also generally regarded with horror when shed or spilt, so that it is not uncommon for even grown men to be queasy or squeamish at the sight or even the thought of blood. On the other hand, blood even when it has dried contains an almost unlimited amount of information about the person who shed it, so much as to provide science with all kinds of useful knowledge. The root of the Church’s devotion to the Precious Blood of the Lord is very simple, but also mysterious and profound. It is essentially the mystery of the Incarnation of God taking to himself a human nature in its entirety: body, blood, and soul, along with his own eternal, divine Person. Have you ever wondered about the Body and Blood of the Lord after our Savior’s death? The fact is—and it is a very important fact for our faith—that even though as a man Christ could undergo bodily death (that is, the separation of soul and body), and even though he did in fact undergo death, it still remains true that his divine nature (that is, his divine Person), never subject to death, was never separated from the parts of his humanity that were divided in death. This means that the soul of Christ in death, his body in the tomb, and his shed blood were all united to the Person of the Son, the Word. Thus his blood was worthy of adoration, as it was poured out on the way of the cross and as it was taken up again in his resurrection. Fr. Frederick Faber, in his great work of devotion The Precious Blood, which is still in print, expounds this doctrine at length in the line of the teaching of St Thomas. But the Church in our own time has approved the direct invocation of the Blood of Christ as to the Person of the Son in the litany of the Precious Blood promulgated by Pope St. John XXIII in 1960. Also, many saints have spoken of devotion to the Precious Blood of Jesus; notable among them is St. Catherine of Siena, who often wrote about the Precious Blood of Jesus in her Dialogue—a written account of her mystical visions. In more recent times, this devotion has more widely taken root in our Catholic tradition. Devotion to the Precious Blood spread greatly through the prayer, preaching, and work of Bl. Gaspar del Bufalo, a 19th century Roman priest and founder of the Missionaries of the Precious Blood. Blessed Gaspar brought this beloved devotion out of the sanctuary and into the hearts of Catholics around the world. It is through his life’s work that the devotion grew widespread in the Church. The Precious Blood courses through the Church, giving life to the Body of Christ. It was the cleansing agent that allowed the holy saints and martyrs to wash their robes clean. It is the price of our redemption, the object of our salvation, and the assurance of our eternal inheritance. As we honor the Precious Blood of Jesus in union with the Church this month, may it awaken in our hearts a love and gratitude for Christ’s gift to us, for He has saved us by His blood.

Humanae Vitae, the controversial letter on men and women and ethics, was issued by Blessed Pope Paul VI a half-century ago on July 25, 1968, and it has much to offer our “MeToo” culture, which is inundated with so much confusion about relationships and identity and power. We are still living in the moment of Humanae Vitae and of the challenge it presents to the world. Humanae Vitae identifies the key problem of our day, which is the myth that we can be God. Pope Paul writes at the beginning of the document,  "But the most remarkable development of all is to be seen in man's stupendous progress in the domination and rational organization of the forces of nature to the point that he is endeavoring to extend this control over every aspect of his own life -- over his body, over his mind and emotions, over his social life, and even over the laws that regulate the transmission of life” (n.2). In this document, the Pope paints a wider vision of the problem. We think everything belongs to us, but the reality is that we belong to God. "Humanae Vitae" means "Of human life." Human life came from God, belongs to God, and goes back to God. "You are not your own," St. Paul declares. "You have been bought, and at a price" (1 Cor. 6:19-20).  Sex and having children are aspects of a whole cluster of realities that make up our lives and activities. We suffer from the illusion that all of these activities belong to us. “This is my life, my body, my choice. This is a reality that is bigger than all of us. It is the self-giving which starts in the Trinity and is revealed in a startling way on the Cross and then challenges each of us in our daily interaction with others, with God, and with our own eternal destiny. It is so real and so big that it is scary. That's why so many people today are afraid of the full reality and meaning of sex. That's why Pope Paul VI wrote Humanae Vitae.

The readings for the 15th Sunday in Ordinary Time have something very important to tell us. Being Catholic is not just about receiving a free gift of salvation, it is also about passing it on to others. Many people people feel you need an advanced theological degree and extensive training before taking on a role in the Church  In some cases that is true, but remember, God doesn’t so much call the equipped; he equips the called.  In the scriptures, people moved rather quickly from disciples to apostles or from ordinary lay people to prophets, and thus share in the mission of the Church to bring the Good News to all people. Everybody likes free gifts. Advertisers know that a campaign will have much better results if there are free samples or a free gift with every purchase. But when we receive a favor, we’re wise enough to know there is usually a catch somewhere. The giver expects something of us in return. At the beginning of his letter to the Ephesians, Saint Paul tells us that God is the most generous of all givers. In fact his generosity is immeasurable and unlimited. He does not just give us a percentage off the price of our purchase, or a trinket to induce sales. He does not just forgive a few sins and require that we work off the rest of our tab. He entirely cancels the debt, wipes the slate clean and, as a bonus, gives us supernatural insight into the cosmic plan that makes the whole universe tick, the “mystery” that underlies history. He gives us eternal life as a free gift, and as the down-payment on this inheritance, gives us the supernatural power of his own Spirit, dwelling in our hearts. But of course, there is a catch. We are filled with gifts so that we in turn can become givers. We owe love and worship and gratitude to the Giver, of course. But that’s not what He is most concerned with. After all, He is God, perfect in himself, and has no needs. Instead, His preoccupation is with our neighbors who do have needs. What we’ve received as a gift, He calls us to give as a gift. We are to “pass it on.” That’s why Amos, a simple shepherd and dresser of sycamores, is not just given God’s word, but is called to leave his home in Judah in order to bring that word to the royal sanctuary in Bethel. It’s also why simple fishermen and tax collectors were the first to be called disciples. They were the first ones who received and learned the teachings of the master who they soon realized was not just a gifted rabbi but was, in fact, the Messiah. Before they knew it, they were called “apostles,” meaning those who are “sent out” to spread that teaching. Unfortunately, when prophets and apostles bring God’s gifts, not everyone is excited. Some people do not want change, which is perhaps why the King’s chaplain told Amos to go home. Jesus warned His apostles that some people would not be interested in their message, and when that happened, they were to shake the dust of such towns from their feet and move on. The point of today’s Scripture passages, however, is that ministry is not simply restricted to the job description of bishops, professional clergy, or foreign missionaries. In Greek, the word bishop means “overseer” or “superintendent,” and while it is true that the bishops of the Catholic Church are the official successors of the apostles and ultimately bear responsibility for the Church’s mission to all nations, their role is not to do it all, but to oversee and direct it all. The Church teaches that every person who is baptized and confirmed receives directly from Christ a mandate to share in the Lord’s prophetic mission. We are all called to be prophets. A prophet literally means spokesman. While most of us will never be called to utter oracles that predict the future, we all are called to speak in behalf of God a message that sometimes challenges people and at other times brings them comfort. While most of us are not called to the sacrament of Holy Orders, we are all called to the “lay apostolate.” And according to the teaching of the Church, we’ve been amply equipped with all the gifts necessary to carry out this mission, endowed with “every spiritual blessing in the heavens” (Ephesians 1:3). Of course we need to develop these gifts and hone our apostolic skills, which is why we all. need education and formation and should actively participate in many of the educational and formation programs offered by the parish and the archdiocese. This is why the internet website Formed has been made free and available to every member of St. Helena’s For neither Amos nor the apostles were perfectly polished before they were sent out. If we wait till we know it all, we’ll never share it. There comes a point where we just have to take Nike’s advice and “just do it!”

Today, May 3, 2018, is the 66th National Day of Prayer. As a Catholic and a priest, every day is a day of prayer. Every year, our nation sets aside a day for prayer because prayer changes people. Every time I pray, I know that it changes me and my life. Sometimes, I am even blessed to see changes in others as I pray for them. For people of faith, prayer is an indispensable part of our relationship with God. All relationships require conversation, and prayer is our chance to talk with God. In prayer, we share our hopes with God, and we listen for God’s hope for us. The Second Continental Congress established days of prayer and fasting going back to the earliest years of our nation. Various other national days, including Thanksgiving, were set aside in the 1800s. However, it was 1952 when the National Day of Prayer as we know it was enacted. Over these many years, our attitude toward national prayer has changed. Originally, there was a great deal of humility in the prayer. Sometimes people fasted, going without food as a gesture of humility before God. The point was to conform our nation to God’s will. If you read political speeches from the 1800s, you’ll notice that when presidents invoked God, they expressed hope that our nation was on God’s side. They prayed with humility. This is a far cry from the common assumption today that our nation is always in the right, and that we must thereby speak with assurance that God is on our side. Too often, we tell God what to do, instead of asking God what we must do. The National Day of Prayer, at its best, offers all of us in this wonderful nation the gift of praying that we might be blessed by God’s wisdom and courage. We pray that we would always know and do those things God wills. This is not a day for using prayer to achieve whatever political aims we might want. It is rather a day for inviting God to guide our politics. My prayer as a Catholic is always to have the wisdom, strength, and courage to be on God’s side. I’ll pray for justice, peace, and mercy for all. I’ll pray for freedom for all people to thrive as the people God made them to be. I’ll pray for our nation to use those things God has given us for the common good.

Today Catholic Christians celebrate the Feast of the Resurrection of Jesus -Easter. Easter is, in fact, an 8-day celebration, beginning today and continuing throughtout the next seven days and ending next Sunday, Divine Mercy Sunday. On behalf of the staff, faculty, and all the ministers of St. Helena's parish, I wish you and those you love a very Happy and Holy Easter and Easter Season! In Catholic Christianity, Easter is considered to be the most important of all feast days. In fact, the early Church Fathers considered it to be so important that they decided to change the Lord’s Day from the Sabbath (Saturday), to Sunday. So, in a sense, every Sunday is a celebration of Easter. Easter, of course, commemorates Jesus’ rising from the tomb after his crucifixion and death. Without the Resurrection, Jesus would have gone down in history as just another person who got himself killed. In the Easter story, Mary Magdalene and a woman that the Bible calls “the other Mary” came to the tomb where Jesus had been buried. What they found, however, was an angel who rolled back the stone at the entrance of the tomb to show them that Jesus was no longer there. The angel said, “Do not be afraid! I know that you are seeking Jesus the crucified. He is not here, for he has been raised just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples” (Matthew 28: 5-7). Mary Magdalen and her friend, frightened but filled with joy, went and told the disciples the good news of Jesus’ resurrection. Many in the Church see Mary Magdalene, therefore, as the first missionary of the Church, taking the good news of Jesus to others. For the next several weeks, we will be celebrating the Easter Season and will learn even more about Easter and its consequences from the Scripture. Easter, however, is more than a historical and religious event. For Catholic Christians, it is also a time of renewal, of rebirth, a time to shed the negatives of our lives and replace them with positives. That is what we see in the amazing story of a man who lived in the Seventeenth Century. His name was Nicholas Herman, but for the ages, he is more commonly known as Brother Lawrence. Nicholas was born around 1614 in the area of Lorraine in eastern France. Because his family was so poor, he joined the army as a teenager so that he could have guaranteed meals and a small stipend. He fought in the Thirty Years’ War until he was injured and had to leave. After leaving the army, Nicholas served as a valet. However, in June of 1640, Nicholas joined the Discalced Carmelite priory in Paris and took the name, “Lawrence of the Resurrection.” He made his solemn profession of vows on August 14, 1642. In the Parisian priory, he spent the rest of his life. For his first years in Religious Life, Brother Lawrence worked in the kitchen as a cook, but later in his life, he found himself repairing sandals of the friars of the community. When he first received the job of cook, Brother Lawrence was not at all pleased. He thought this work was beneath him. But as he grew in the spiritual life, he found himself becoming more peaceful and more joyful. In fact, people began coming to the priory for counseling. Brother Lawrence attributed his joy and peace to a very simple realization: he was always in the presence of God. Lawrence held that as long as he remembered that he was in God’s presence, he would be happy no matter what he was doing – cooking, fixing shoes, attending a party, visiting with friends, praying in the chapel, etc. From his letters and talks with the abbot of the priory, a short book was anonymously written about Brother Lawrence’s wisdom called, The Practice of the Presence of God. It became popular with Protestants and Catholics alike, and even Protestant leaders such as John Wesley recommended it to others. This book even today is considered a Catholic Christian classic. On his deathbed, Brother Lawrence said to those around him, “I am not dying. I am just doing what I have been doing for the past forty years, and doing what I expect to be doing for all eternity!” The friars surrounding him asked, “What is that?” Lawrence replied, “I am worshipping the God I love!” Brother Lawrence died on February 12, 1691 – in the presence of God. From Brother Lawrence and the Easter story, we can learn many things. Here are just two. First, Easter is about new birth. It is a time to shake off the old and take on the new. It is a time to rejuvenate our spiritual lives. Perhaps it means getting out old ruts. Perhaps it means going back to school or reading new things. Perhaps it means taking up a hobby or becoming more generous with our time, talent, and/or treasure. But second, remember that change takes time. We don’t go from zero to high-powered-mystic overnight. Though there have been instances in history where people have had an amazing instantaneous conversion – such as with St. Paul – most of us have to work at building a strong spiritual life day by day. As we continue our life journeys this week, let’s look at our own lives. How are we going to shake up our spiritual lives this Easter Season?