Be shrewd. Be simple. Beware. All this week we've been getting lessons from Jesus about how to be holy, about how to survive and thrive in the world w/o being of the world. Today we tells us to be wise, to be astute. Sharp, smart like a serpent but innocent, harmless as a dove. That's quite the unique combo to pull off! So, what does innocent shrewdness look like? At the root of this disposition is agape, sacrificial love – willing the Good for the Other even unto death. IOW, properly using innocent shrewdness (or being shrewdly innocent) is just being Christ in the world. Knowing the Truth, living the Way, and expecting w/o hesitation Eternal Life. Through that lens and within that frame, we adopt the mind of Christ and become Christ even as we compose his Body as members. Because we are his mind and body, we are set aside, consecrated for a holy purpose. That holy purpose is to be an irritant to the world. Like a grain of sand in an oyster. It is also about being a witness, testifying to the mercy of God so that the oyster might produce a pearl. All this irritation and testimony makes us vulnerable to persecution, so Jesus teaches us to get out of his way when the trial begins, “Don't worry about what you will say. The Spirit of the Father will speak through you.” If this seems strange, it shouldn't. You have put on the Mind of Christ. You are a member of his Body. You participate in his Spirit. You eat and drink his body and blood. The whole point of baptism, confirmation, all the sacraments is to give you all you need to be perfected in Christ. So, when the prosecutions come and the trials begin, who else would speak for you but Christ? The trick – if there is one – is to get out of his way. Die to self. Lose your life. Hate the world. Those who are wise understand these things; those who are prudent know them. Straight and narrow are the paths of the Lord, on them the just walk while sinners stumble.
Fr. Philip Neri Powell OP
St. Albert the Great, Irving
Fall to the ground and die. Lose your life. Hate the world. Not exactly the Hallmark Card affirmations we usually associate with Christian joy. Taken together these admonitions ground a philosophy of living that directly opposes the nihilism we breath in everyday. The 21st c. American version of nihilism produces entitled, emotion-driven, therapeutic, and narcissistic individuals who cannot imagine a world w/o their unique presence. It is easily the deadliest gas we can breath over time. As followers of Christ, everything we are and do is given in witness to our humility, our total and irrevocable dependence on God. Just being human persons striving for holiness is an incomparable witness to God's mercy. We cannot do it w/o Him. So, when Christ tells us to die to self, lose our lives, and hate the world, he is revealing a truth absolutely foundational to our salvation: I cannot be saved. You cannot saved. Only we can be saved and only then by becoming Christs in Christ. I cannot be both Christ and me at the same time. You cannot be both Christ and you at the same time. But together, we can be Christ – one body, one heart, one mind.
Paul asks, “Do you not know that your bodies are members of Christ?” And then he teaches, “Whoever is joined to the Lord becomes one spirit with him.” If we are one body and one spirit with Christ, then we will suffer and triumph as he suffered and triumphed. Both our sufferings and our triumphs occur in the world, but their effects echo in eternity. So, we bear witness to them as sacraments of love – external signs of Christ's mission and ministry to die and live again for the sake of sinners. How do we bear witness to Christ? We get out of his way. We die to Self, surrendering the need to be the Star of a life that was never ours to begin with.
14th Sunday OT
Fr. Philip Neri Powell OP
St. Albert the Great, Irving, TX
I have been crucified to the world and the world to me. Through the cross of Christ Jesus, I have been crucified. What is it to be crucified? In the literal sense, it means that I've been nailed to a cross, executed as a criminal. But Paul is writing to the Galatians. He is quite plainly not writing a letter while hanging from a cross. So, being crucified to the world and the world to him must be taken metaphorically. Maybe being crucified is a way of saying dead to the world or detached from the world. That's certainly part of what it means. But Paul says that it is through the cross of Christ that he and the world are crucified. So, the cross of Christ is the medium, the means through which all this crucifying is done. Not just any old cross. Not just any old execution. But that specific cross on that particular day with that exceptional body and soul. Every other crucifixion is an execution. A run-away slave. A deserter. A rebel. But this crucifixion, the one Paul takes into himself, that crucifixion is a sacrifice. The victim, the priest, and the altar are all Christ Jesus. And thus from all eternity, we are gifted with the Sacramentum caritatis.
And that is what we are here this morning to participate in – the sacrament of charity. We are here to be crucified. We are here to be crossified. To be joined to The Cross of Christ, to be transformed into victims, priests, and altars for the salvation of the world. How else can we honor our baptismal vows? How else can we follow Christ? Two thousand years after the resurrection and there is still work to be done. Not just busy work, paperwork, or make work. But the real work of bearing witness to God's freely offered mercy. The real work of preaching and teaching the Way, the Truth, and the Life. The real work of living as Christs in the world w/o becoming subject to the world. Lots of work yet to be done. And looking around us – at the Church, at the world – we can see that only a few are putting their hands to the plow. Jesus himself says that the laborers are few but the harvest is abundant. We can be both alarmed and comforted by this truth. It has always been so. The question for us this morning: am I one of the laborers working to bring in the harvest? Am I among those who will be crucified, crossified for the sake of Christ's mission? If your answer is no, or I don't know, what's keeping you from the Cross?
Maybe it's one of the Usual Suspects: fear of rejection or defeat; false humility; cowardice. Could be one of the Big Seven: wrath, maybe. Or greed. Both attach us to this temporary world. All seven lead us down into irrationality and passionate self-destruction. If I were a betting friar, I'd bet it's Pride – that original sin that lies to us, telling us that we can be god without God. That we can be Christ without the Cross. That we can labor for the harvest without sacrifice, without love, without giving glory to the Father. That the labor itself is all that counts. My work, my time, my treasure. Never once giving thanks and praise to God for the gifts He gives. As if, we are working out of what we have earned rather than received. Pride fools us into thinking and believing that the imperfect can be perfected by the imperfect. That wounds heal wounds. That sin forgives sin. That death conquers death. Only love can do these things. Only divine love can do them perfectly. And divine love hangs on The Cross. If you will be a laborer for Christ, you will be crucified. To the world, you will dead. For Christ and his Church, you will be more alive than when you were first born.
13th Sunday OT
Fr. Philip Neri Powell OP
OLR, NOLA
Christ set us free! From what? From the Law and from sin and death. How did he set us free? By taking on our broken human nature, dying on the Cross, and rising again from the tomb. Where and when did he set us free? Jerusalem in the first century. And here and now. New Orleans in the 21st century. Most importantly, why did Christ set us free? Paul says it as plainly as it can be said: “For freedom Christ set us free.” For no other reason are we set free from the slavery of sin and death. And so, Paul urges us not to fall back into sin, not to put ourselves back into chains. He says, “...do not use this freedom as an opportunity for the flesh.” Do not abuse your freedom as a chance to wallow in the world – the world of violence, hatred, lust, anger, and revenge. That world refuses the gift of freedom and is kept in slavery to serve chaotic passions absent reason. So, do not abuse your freedom, Paul, says; “...rather, serve one another through love.” That's true freedom. Not a license to do whatever we feel like doing. Not permission to pick and choose from among nearly infinite options. But the recognition that we have an end, a goal and that goal is best reached by loving service to our neighbors.
Loving and serving our neighbors is nothing new for those who follow Christ. The only element of our loving service that changes is the circumstances in which we serve lovingly. It might be a war, a plague, a natural disaster; or something less dramatic like a death in the family or a financial crisis. What never changes is the urgency of our service, the urgency of our YES to Christ. This urgency is daunting; it's intimidating because we have our things to get done. I've been packing and cleaning these last three weeks. Not only my own stuff but the accumulated stuff of 98yrs in St. Dominic Priory. I wanted to be focused and diligent. But Christ kept calling me to service. I had to serve on the Provincial Chapter for two weeks. I had to arrange and preach the funeral of a brother who died earlier this month. I had to take over the financial management of the priory. I had to preside at the profession of the Priestly Fraternity of St. Dominic. Among a thousand other acts of service. I was annoyed, impatient, sometimes rude, and always reluctant to give my time. Then, I read the Gospel for this evening: “No one who sets a hand to the plow and looks to what was left behind is fit for the kingdom of God.” Chastened, I closed my big whiny mouth and got back to work.
Three people approach Jesus to express their desire to follow after him. Each one has an excuse for not doing so immediately. They didn't feel the necessary urgency in taking up their crosses. The first thinks that following Jesus means literally traveling around in his entourage. Jesus teaches him (and us) that following him is not a matter of physical proximity to him but rather a matter of loving service wherever we find ourselves. The second wants to bury his father first, an ancient religious custom worthy of respect. Jesus teaches him (and us) that those who do not follow him are already dead. Let them bury those who have died. We have work to do right now. The last, wants to say goodbye to his family before he follows Christ. Again, a failure to feel the urgency of loving service. Jesus teaches him (and us) that once we've chosen to follow him, there's no looking back. Serve or do not. There is no try, there is no turning around to contemplate what we've left behind. Our work as followers of Christ is before us, waiting for us up ahead.
So, when Paul says that Christ freed us for freedom, he means that Christ saved us from sin and death so that we may serve lovingly without the distractions of sin and death. The works of the flesh keep us bound to sin, chained in slavery. Each of the three who wanted to follow Christ were slaves to a demand, a custom, an idea of living that prevented them from enjoying the urgency of Christ's work. What is the chain binding you? Probably one of the usual suspects: money, time, false humility; pride, hoarding your gifts for yourself, impatience with other sinners. Or, is that just me? Maybe you've acquired an odd notion of love – it's all about feeling warm and fuzzy! It's all about unconditional approval and acceptance. Or some weird idea about service – it's the gov't's job or Church agency's job or those-other-people-over- there's job. No where to lay your head. Let the dead bury the dead. Don't look back. “I say, then: live by the Spirit and you will certainly not gratify the desire of the flesh.” Christ set us free for freedom. Christ set us free so that we might live in the state of being free. Free from sin. Free from eternal death. Free from the poisonous narcissism that is consuming our nation. Free from the irrational passions that are herding our neighbors into hell. Free from all of those things-of-the-flesh that turn us into fools and deceive us into believing that we can be God w/o God. Christ set you free for freedom. Beware that you do not sell yourself back into slavery.
Br. Roger Shondel OP Funeral
Fr. Philip Neri Powell OP
St. Dominic Church, NOLA
Those who have died in Christ minister to those left behind. Their ministry is to be the object of remembrance and prayer, and a sign of hope for the resurrection. Just not being here with us is a prompt, a push to contemplate the inevitability of our own lives coming to an end. Death comes slowly – over decades; then quickly – a matter of minutes. And it's during the slow-time of death that we plant, cultivate, and harvest the memories and prayers that mark those we love as ministers of Christ. Their not being here motivates us to ponder being with them again. It compels us to cherish the promise of Christ that those who remain in him will rise again. And so, here we are this morning to be motivated, to be prompted into remembering and praying; to be pushed into cherishing again Christ's promise of the resurrection. And our minister is Br. Roger Shondel. Seventy-eight years old. Sixty years a Dominican brother. Forty of those years living right here at St. Dominic Priory. Br. Roger was a whirlwind of organization, focus, and energy; a tireless example of dedication to the work of the Order – teaching, counseling, welcoming, and service. We can hear his absence in the priory. It's a strange silence.
But it's a silence that moves us to remember. It moves us to remember that we do not live in Christ to die eternally. Jesus says to the grieving Martha, “I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” Those who live and believe in Christ will never die. That's our promise of resurrection, of life eternal. And that is our source of hope as we mourn the death of our brother, Roger. Tears and pangs of grief do not betray this hope. Nor do anger, regret, helplessness, or fear. All of these are our limited ways of adjusting to his absence, our shocked and pained ways of getting used to his new ministry to us. As we pray for the repose of his soul and remember his hurricane-level power to get things done, we also remember that he gave sixty years of his life to bear witness to the truth of Christ's promise of eternal life. Jesus asks Martha, “Do you believe this?” Do you believe that if you remain in Christ you will rise again? Do you believe that to abide in Christ now is to abide with him forever? Martha answers, “Yes, Lord. I have come to believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one who is coming into the world.”
At 3.30 in the morning, during the school year, I would find Br. Roger in the dining room, burning an English muffin in the toaster and prepping his coffee. He would laugh at my disheveled appearance (Me! His prior!) and attempt to engage me in conversation. I would give him a long uncaffeinated death-stare, and he would mumble something about the lack of discipline among these younger friars. I could feel a Back-In-My-Day-Story coming on, so I'd waddle away as fast as I could. And if I spilled coffee on my way up in the elevator and didn't clean it up properly, I'd hear about it that afternoon. Occasionally, I'd get a talking-to about brothers not returning their dishes to the kitchen. We're missing six spoons, eight forks, three bowls, and steak knife! Yes, he counted the dishes. He also decorated the priory for the holidays. Kept the priory books. Made sure we always had plenty of paper towels and laundry detergent. One year, while he was visiting his sister, Joanie, we called him and begged him to come home b/c we'd run out of dinner napkins! I'm betting he was tempted. He loved “my girls” at DHS. Told stories about them at table. If he was at home, he was at common prayer. His silence among us is huge.
And so, his ministry to us will be huge as well. We're here this morning to pray for the repose of the soul of Br. Roger. That he may come face-to-face with the God he served so faithfully for so many years. That he may be at peace at last and find his place at the Wedding Feast, a feast he would no doubt plan, organize, and execute w/o breaking a sweat. We are here to mourn his silence and to be reminded that those who remain in Christ will find eternal life in the resurrection. Paul writes to the Romans, “What will separate us from the love of Christ? Will anguish, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or the sword? No, in all these things we conquer overwhelmingly through him who loved us.” In all things we conquer through Christ who loves us. Death comes slowly – over decades; then quickly – in a matter of minutes. But to die in Christ is to die to death and live forever with him. Remember that by remembering our Br. Roger. Pray for him and remember.
Fr. Philip Neri Powell OP
St. Dominic/OLR, NOLA
Jesus, his disciples, and a huge crowd of random people who want to hear what Jesus has to say – they all find themselves in a deserted place. A place w/o food, water, shelter. Not much to recommend it for comfort or protection. The disciples suggest to Jesus that he send the people into the nearby villages for the night, so they can find a bed and something to eat. Jesus answers with an apparently less-than-helpful suggestion of his own: “Give them some food yourselves.” You can almost see and hear the disciples' aggravation and frustration. Here we go again! Another lesson in mystery. Another impractical exercise to show us up. Where are we going to get enough food for this many people? How would we get it to them even if we had it? They're perfectly capable of finding food for themselves! OK. Maybe that's what I'd be thinking. Maybe the disciples were a little more docile to the Lord's lessons. Regardless, the problem before them must've seemed insurmountable at the time. And it is. . .until Jesus intervenes and shows them the miraculous power of his blessing. In that deserted place, he shows them all the power of the Eucharist.
And what is this power? It's not the power to shame people into sharing the food they've squirreled away for themselves. It's not the power to say grace before a meal. It's not the power to organize a large crowd into smaller modules for efficient distribution of foodstuffs. The Miracle of the Feeding of the 5,000 reveals the Eucharist's power to nourish as many as will come to be nourished. Those who follow Christ – even into the deserted places of the world – will be fed. They will be nourished. 5,000; 10,000; 1.3 billion. They will all be fed. How? With what? Wrong question. The right question is: with whom? With whom will they all be fed? And we know the answer to that question; otherwise, none of us would be here this morning/evening. We are all fed by the Body and Blood of Christ Jesus – true food, true drink – for the salvation of the world and life eternal. The power of the Eucharist is the power to take fallen men and women, sinners subject to death, and start them toward a fundamental transformation, turning them into Christs, perfecting in them the image and likeness of God who made them. All who would be fed, changed, saved; all who would be Christ for the world will be fed. They will be changed. They will saved.
From whatever deserted place you may come, if you choose, if you will it, you will be fed and changed and saved. As 21st century Catholics, we are accustomed to hearing that the Eucharist is about establishing and thriving as a community of believers. We share a sacramental meal. This sharing binds us together more closely in prayer. All true. But not all the truth. Our older brothers and sisters are accustomed to hearing about the Eucharist as a sacrifice, a sacramental memorial of Christ's sacrifice on the Cross. Our Mass takes us to Calvary where we participate in the saving grace of Christ's death. Again, all true. But not all the truth. The truth we don't hear much about is the ancient understanding of the Eucharist as a means of becoming Christ ourselves in the world – as the way we sinners are not only joined to a community, not only joined to Christ's sacrifice as participants but also joined to Christ so that we may become Christs to be Christs in the world. Knowing this, knowing that you can become Christ, do you still find yourself among the 5,000 in that deserted place, waiting for your portion of fish and bread? Do you still want to be fed by the Body and Blood of Christ?
If so, then you will come forward and receive. But understand who and what you are receiving. Our modern minds tell us we are receiving symbols of Christ's body and blood. Bread and wine. Tokens, stand-in's for the real thing, which is no longer available to us. Our modern minds tell us that what's real is what's physical, what's knowable with the senses. We see, taste, touch bread and wine, so the bread and wine must be just bread and wine, just a symbol. Not the real thing. False! Christ is truly present – body, blood, soul, and divinity. The really real is not limited to the physical, the empirical. That's a modern prejudice. The really real includes the spiritual, the non-empirical. It includes the sacramental, external signs of internal graces. It includes the substantial, what a thing truly is in itself. The bread and wine are substantially, sacramentally Christ's Body and Blood, and no less really real simply b/c his presence is not physical. When you come forward to receive, know and believe that who you are receiving IS Christ. Not a symbol, not a token, not a stand-in. But Christ – body, blood, soul, and divinity. You are what you eat. If you will be Christ in the world, you must be nourished by Christ in this world. This IS my Body. This IS my Blood.
11th Week OT (S)
Fr. Philip Neri Powell OP
St. Dominic Church, NOLA
Worry is a Master. And by master here I mean not only an overlord or a ruler but also a teacher. Master comes from the Latin magister, the name for a university teacher in the Middle Ages. So, when Jesus says that we cannot serve two Masters, he is saying, we cannot be ruled by two rulers; we cannot learn from two teachers. Case in point: worry. If worry is your chosen ruler, your chosen teacher, then you have learned that fretting, hand-wringing, and obsessive attention to control are all good ways of making sure that everything works out in your favor. Headaches, ulcers, panic attacks, and sleepless nights always result in you getting what you want. Right? That's the lesson of Prof. Worry. You can control everything and everyone even remotely connected to you and your needs. By obsessively focusing on everything that can go wrong, you are able to realign the trajectory of the entire universe and bend people and events to your will – a will, btw, that you must also believe is all-knowing and infallible. If you're going to bend the universe to your will, you must truly believe that your will is already perfect! IOW, Prof. Worry is teaching you to believe that you are God.
That's what anxiety/worry is: faithlessness. Or better, faith in Yourself alone. To worry is to place total faith, total hope in your own ability to discern and accomplish what you already believe is your perfect will. It's to serve Yourself as if you were God. You are your own master, your own teacher. “[You cannot] serve two masters. [You] will either hate one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other.” If you have chosen Christ as your master, your teacher, then you cannot serve Yourself as a god. I am not all-knowing. My will is far from perfect. I am fallible, prone to error, and sometimes just plain dumb. My own history is one long story of making bad choices and suffering the consequences. Does this sound familiar? Why in the world then would I think that my fretting, my hand-wringing, my anxiety could alter so much as an atom in its course? Prof. Worry is a liar. He's a false teacher and failed scholar. By his own admission, he is faithless. Why would any rational soul listen to him? Surrender yourself to the only True Master, Christ Jesus. We are not gods. He is God. He will provide. And we must receive. Give thanks and praise and. . .stop worrying.
11th Week OT (F)
Fr. Philip Neri Powell OP
St. Dominic Church, NOLA
You may feel it too. Something is changing; something is shifting in this temporary world. I mean, things are always moving, always sliding about. That's the nature of all created things. But right now, out there, it just feels to me like Something Big is coming. Maybe it's b/c the Dominicans have had four deaths in the last two weeks, including our own Br. Roger. Maybe it's b/c we just elected a new Provincial. We're leaving St. D's. Y'all are getting a new Pastor and PV. Fr. John's mother is not doing well. Lots is going on. Lots of moving, shifting, sliding about. And that's just right here in this parish. Don't watch the news if you're prone to angry outbursts. Out there is far, far worse. It's enough to upset the stoutest stomach. As I feel the rolling start, I hear Christ say to his disciples, “Peace be with you.” And the HS comes to reveal the Father's enduring truth. The truth is: Christ doesn't change. He doesn't slip or slide. He doesn't evolve or develop or “grow with the times.” He is the Rock, the foundation stone – the center of the hurricane and the peace which passes all understanding.
Knowing all this, where do you build your faith? On what do you build your faith? Better yet, in whom or what do you invest your faith? Here's what Jesus says, “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and decay destroy, and thieves break in and steal.” “Treasures” here can be literal stuff like property or money. But you can also treasure ideas, habits, attitudes, preferences, prejudices, politics, relationships. You can treasure people, pets, careers. All of these – money, habits, people – all of them are subject to thieves and death. Anything of the earth and on it is subject to change. That's the nature of created things – to change. What doesn't change? Christ. His truth. Therefore, “store up treasures in heaven,” store your treasures where change is unnecessary b/c your treasures are already perfect. Christ makes this truth easy for us to understand: “...where your treasure is, there also will your heart be.” If you treasure the things of this world, then your heart, your center, is down here in the chaos of creation. If your treasure is kept in heaven – perfect, unchanging – then your heart is in heaven already. Let the world slip, slide, quake, and rattle about. It will burn, heal, and burn again. You, remain in the peace of Christ.
Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity
Fr. Philip Neri Powell OP
OLR, NOLA
What's the fundamental difference between science and faith? Scientists work to expose the mysteries of the universe by the use of reason alone. Believers – Christian believers – work alongside mystery in reason and wonder to expose themselves to God and His handiwork. Scientists hope to learn more about the universe for the sheer delight of gaining practical knowledge. By learning more about His creation, believers hope to grow closer to their Creator, thus making their joy complete. The fundamental difference btw science and faith hinges on mystery. For science, a mystery is a problem is to be solved. For faith, mystery is a truth not yet revealed. What we share with science is the alluring power of Not Yet, the seduction of knowing just enough to keep us motivated to learn more. When Jesus says, “I have much more to tell you, but you cannot bear it now,” scientists hear a challenge but believers hear a promise. That promise, the promise of the coming of the Holy Spirit, is fulfilled at Pentecost. And with the coming of the Holy Spirit, God reveals the central mystery of the faith: He is Three in One.
How to describe this essential mystery? We could say that the Trinity is like a single drop of water in three forms: fluid, frozen, vaporous. But the Trinity is Three in One simultaneously, while a drop of water cannot be fluid, frozen, and vaporous all at the same time. We could say that the Trinity is like a woman who is simultaneously a mother, an aunt, and a sister. But the Trinity is Three in One absolutely, relative only to one another, while a woman is a mother, an aunt, and a sister only in relation to her children, her nieces, and her siblings. We could say that the Trinity is like a person with three jobs: Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier. The Father creates; the Son redeems; and the Spirit sanctifies. That's not wrong as such but if the Three are One then all Three must each be Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier. You begin to see the problem, right? How do we describe what is essentially unsayable, indescribable? We know that God is Three Persons in One Divinity, but how do we make sense of this mystery? We wait. Jesus says, “I have much more to tell you, but you cannot bear it now. . .” He doesn't say that we can never bear all that he has to tell us; we just can't bear all the truth right now. So, we wait and trust and hold ourselves in hope that the fullness of this mystery will revealed when we are finally perfected. All will be well.
And we know that all will be well b/c, as the Catechism teaches us, “The ultimate end of the whole divine economy is the entry of God's creatures into the perfect unity of the Blessed Trinity” (n. 260). The whole point of God's cosmic plan of salvation is to bring us to Him to live perfectly united in Him. Do we need a scientific understanding of the divine mysteries to be perfect? No. Besides, science cannot perfect us. Do we need to work along side the divine mysteries in wonder and reason in order to be made perfect? Yes. B/c we cannot be made perfect, we cannot be brought to God w/o our consent and help. Mysteries of the faith – like the Trinity, the Incarnation, the Resurrection – are all revealed truths that we do not yet fully understand. We know that God is Three Persons in One Divine Being. We know that Christ is fully human, fully divine. We know that Christ was raised from his tomb body and soul. And we even have some inkling of what these mysteries mean to our daily lives as followers of Christ. What we don't yet know, what we cannot yet bear, is the weight, the fullness of these truths completely revealed. For that we must wait to see God face-to-face. And to see Him face-to-face, we must submit to the guidance of the Holy Spirit.
The Holy Spirit urges us to live trinitarian lives. We read in the Catechism: “Everyone who glorifies the Father does so through the Son in the Holy Spirit; everyone who follows Christ does so because the Father draws him and the Spirit moves him” (n. 259). Open yourself to being drawn by the Father to follow Christ. Open yourself to being moved by the Spirit to follow Christ. Follow Christ – completely abandon yourself to him – and you will find yourself working along side the mysteries of faith in reason and wonder, opening your heart and mind to all that God has to show you. When Jesus says, “I have much more to tell you, but you cannot bear it now,” scientists hear a daring challenge but believers hear a loving promise. Christ promises to make us strong enough, whole enough, beautiful enough to bear up under every truth, all truth, fully revealed and wondrously arrayed. And because of this promise “we boast in hope of the glory of God.”
Ascension of the Lord
Fr. Philip Neri Powell OP
OLR, NOLA
Right before their eyes, Jesus rises into the clouds and vanishes. Understandably, the disciples are astonished. They just stand there gawking, mumbling among themselves. Two angels appear and ask a truly bizarre question: “Why are you standing there looking at the sky?” Um, maybe because we just watched our teacher and friend shoot off into the heavens! Not something one sees everyday. Surely the angels know that Jesus has ascended to the Father. And surely they know why the disciples are surprised by the event. So why ask them why they standing there looking at the sky? The question has a rhetorical feel to it. I mean, it's meant to make them think about Jesus' ascension as one more event in a long list of astonishing events that started with the Gabriel's visit to Mary. If you get that Jesus is the Son given flesh and bone; and you get that he came to suffer and die and rise again for the forgiveness of sin; and you get that he visited you in the flesh after he rose; if you get all of that, then why are you standing there looking at the sky? Given all that has happened, why is his ascension so astonishing? The angels understand that the disciples do not. Understand, that is. Do we?
Do we get the Ascension? Sure, we know that it's about Jesus being taken up into heaven after his post-resurrection visitation with his disciples. He appeared to them in a locked room. Doubting Thomas poked his fingers into the Lord's wounds. Jesus walked with some of them on the Road to Emmaus. He was with them when Peter took an unexpected swim during a storm while fishing. Then, one day, Jesus, right before their eyes, whooshes up into the clouds. We know this much. But do we know why the ascension happened? What it tells us about us and our way to perfection in heaven? The key to understanding the Ascension is to remember that everything that happened to Jesus is happening and will happen to his Body, the Church, and is happening and will happen to each one of us as members of the Body. We follow Christ. Where he went, where he goes, and where he will go. We follow. The Ascension reveals that we too will rise with the Lord and sit at the right hand of the Father. This is made possible by the Son taking on our human nature, becoming sin for us, and freely dying and rising again to kill death. With his Resurrection, our fallen human nature is healed. With his Ascension, our perfected human nature is raised to eternal life.
Of course, none of this will happen without us. That is, God will not save us or raise us up without our cooperation, without us working along with Him to achieve this end. He wills that we all return to Him. He also wills that we do so freely. And this is why the angels ask the disciples their rhetorical question: why are you standing there looking at the sky? The subtext of the question is: you have work to do! Stop gawking at the clouds and get busy! Get busy doing what exactly? Get busy following Christ in the world. Get busy preaching and teaching his Word. Get busy healing, freeing, witnessing, feeding, and taking care of his people. Get busy growing in holiness: on being Christ in the world and not being of the world. Get busy living out the Way and the Truth. Get busy forgiving, loving, and showing mercy. Get busy with surrendering control to God and giving Him thanks and praise for His abundant gifts. All this busyness may sound like frenzied effort, like frantic activity. So, following Christ means that we're all to become Marthas? Running around, working ourselves to the bone? No. Our busyness is about intent and focus. It's about putting first things first. It's about keeping the end in mind, the goal squarely set upon our hearts.
That end, that goal is perfect union with the Father in heaven. The Ascension reveals to us that we are created by the Father and recreated by the Son to live in the Lord's presence eternally. That is God's will for us. We are free to choose this end or reject it. That is also God's will for us. Christ's death, resurrection, and ascension make our free choice possible by freeing us from the slavery of sin. Now that we are free, we can choose. If you choose your supernatural end – life eternal in heaven – then you act out that choice by doing all that the Lord did. Everyday. All day. Until you die. If you choose to reject your supernatural end, then you freely give yourself back to sin and live eternally as you lived temporally, refusing to receive God's love. In his justice and love, God respects your choice. And you are separated from God and the company of the blessed. Your choice. The Ascension – along with all of the other astonishing events of the Gospels – encourages us to look past and through a life lived according to the world's standards and onto a life lived as a Christ growing in holiness. So, the angels ask, why are you standing there looking at the sky? Get busy getting holy!
6th Week of Easter (S)
Fr. Philip Neri Powell OP
St. Dominic Church, NOLA
Does God answer your prayers? God the Father provides for us in abundance, always. Yet, we often pray as if He were a stingy Santa Claus or tightwad genie. We beg, bargain, threaten, and otherwise miss the whole point of being children of the Father. Ask and you will receive. Asking is receiving. God gives; we receive. The procedure here is pretty simple: ask for what you need; God gives; you receive. What's not so simple is habituating yourself to not getting what you asked for in the form you asked for it. A child asks Mom for a snack. She gives the child an apple. Not what the child wanted. He was thinking more along the lines of ice cream. He asks for ice cream. Mom says no. Now the child believes that Mom doesn't love him and wants him to starve. Do we do the same when we pray? Rather than telling God what you want, try asking God for what you need and let Him decide how best to meet that need. He is, after all, God. And you and I, after all, are not. Perhaps the best way to pray is this: “Lord, I need whatever you have to give me today, and I receive it with praise and thanksgiving. Amen.”
