Calming the storm

13^th Week OT (T)

Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP

St. Dominic Priory, NOLA

We used to ask the Lord to protect us from “all anxiety” after the Our Father. Now, we ask to be “safe from all distress.” Both translations come from the Latin, ab omni perturbatione securi, from all perturbations, secure us. The aquatic perturbations scaring the disciples to death demonstrate in dramatic form the point Jesus has been making for some time in his public ministry – fear and faith are not compatible. Faith necessarily entails trusting in divine providence that all will work out as it should. Not necessarily how we want. . .how it should. And that level of letting go can create its own layer of anxiety and fear. Jesus reprimands his seasick students: “Why are you terrified, O you of little faith?” The clear implication here is that faith overcomes fear. If you have faith, you won't be afraid. But is this true? Fr. John told us last week about a woman w/no mask at Mass. When he confronted her, she said, “Where's your faith, Father?” Faith doesn't require us to abandon reason. Neither does it require us to abandon planning and taking precautions. What it does require is that we surrender control. Be reasonable. Plan accordingly. Take precautions. But at the same time surrender whatever control you think you have. The disciples' freakout didn't calm the storm. Their calendars didn't calm the storm. All their preparations and precautions didn't calm the storm. Jesus did.

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Who does Christ say you are?

Peter and Paul

Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP

St Dominic Priory, NOLA

I trust that if the Risen Christ walked into this chapel this morning, he would not need to ask a bunch of Dominican friars, “Who do [you] people say that the Son of Man is?” Presumably and most assuredly, we know. The more provocative question for us to ask him would be, “Who does the Son of Man say that I am, that we are?” I hope we would be disappointed and distraught if he said, “You are administrators and professors; religious hobbyists and social workers.” As Pope Francis has said more than once – Jesus did not die on the cross to establish a religiousy NGO. He died, rose, and ascended so that we might become Christs for the salvation of the world. That's a big job. But it's one we've all taken on freely. It is a day-to-day thing for the Body to bear witness and bring the Word to the world. Thanks be to God, we do not have to do the job alone. We have millions of other as yet imperfect Christs to lend a hand. So, if the Risen Christ walks into this chapel, and we ask, “Lord, who do you say we are?” Can he say, in all honesty and sincerity, “You are Christs, Sons of the living God”?

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Loving God is the Cross We Bear

13^th Sunday OT

Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP

OLR, NOLA

AUDIO FILE

Scripture tells us that we live and move and have our being in God. Scripture also tells us that God is love. It follows then that we live and move and have our being in love, Divine Love. What this means practically is that our very existence – that we ARE at all – is a loving act of God. So, any person, place, thing, or activity that we say we love, we are able to love only b/c God loved us first. This is the point Jesus is making when he surprises us by saying, “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.” This surprising bit of apparent egoism from Jesus reveals a larger, more fundamental truth about who we are as creatures and what we are capable of. Because we are made in love and made to love, but are also fallen and often disordered in who and what we love, we can make idols of things; we can love other created things as if they were the sources of Divine Love. Therefore, we are not worthy of Christ; we do not take up our crosses; we fail to receive him when we choose to love things before we first love God. To get our lives properly re-ordered toward our eternal end, we must first love God, and Him above all.

 

When we love God first and above all else, all of our other loves make perfect sense. You love your parents, your spouse, your children. You love your neighbors, your co-workers, even strangers. You love your hobbies; you love your job – maybe? If these loves are properly ordered – that is second to and below your love for God – then loving these things become your way of loving God. Loving the things of this world in order to love God is how we avoid loving God in the abstract. Very few things are more damaging to your spiritual life than “loving God” in theory and then hating your neighbor in practice. In fact, hating your neighbor in practice IS hating God. In theory and in practice. We cannot get away from the necessity of willing the Good for all of God's children. Even trying to do so is spiritually damaging. How? Because you and I were created in God's love and re-created in Christ's sacrificial love, so trying to figure out a way to love God while hating our neighbor is just another version of hating ourselves. . .and God. That path does not lead to the Narrow Gate. 

 

The path leading to the Narrow Gate is straight and flat. Jesus says, “Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” How do you lose your life? And how do you lose it for the sake of Christ? You lose your life in baptism. You left the Old Man behind in the baptismal waters. Christ re-created you, a New Man, a New Woman, and you are now not only freed from sin and death but you are also gifted with the freedom to never sin again. In other words, you are free to love perfectly as Christ loves you. And that's how you lose your life for the sake of Christ. Loving perfectly. Loving in the proper order: God first, above all; then your brothers and sisters in Christ (“the little ones”) and then the things of this world. And here's where our dreaded crosses come into play. By loving the things of this world in light of God's love, we set ourselves apart. We set ourselves against the world b/c the people and things of this world want to be loved on their terms, by their own rules. And this makes us objects of scorn and abuse. On their terms and by their rules, love often means accepting sin; approving disobedience; and celebrating disordered passions. This we cannot do and live in properly ordered love. And b/c we cannot love as they want us to, we are called haters, bigots, much, much worse.

That's a cross we must bear. The temptation, of course, is to just surrender to the mob and love them as they want to be loved. But that makes us partners in their sin. Worse, it makes us traitors to Christ and the life he won for us by his death. Our witness to the world must come from our individual and corporate participation in Divine Love – not from race, class, gender identity, political party, sexual orientation, or any other ideological label that the worldly spirits use to divide us. It is no easy task to endure genuine rage and acts of violence when we stand with Christ and his re-creating love. But that is what we are called to. That is what we have vowed to do. We have upon us the prophet's task of standing firm in God's love and showing the spirits of this world that there is nothing mightier available to us that the saving mercy of our Father's love. He sets free. He saves. He makes right. And He gives life eternal. Properly ordered, loving God brings each one of us into the fullness of His righteousness and empowers us to go out there and bear witness to His truth and goodness. With Christ along, that cross is lightly carried and swiftly brought to victory.

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Be no wider than Christ

12^th Week OT (T)

Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP

St Dominic Priory, NOLA

Jesus says that the gate to the Kingdom is narrow. As an Ample Friar, I want to know why. Why can't the gate be deep and wide? For that matter, why is there a gate in the first place? Why not just take down any and all barriers to the Kingdom? If we see the gate – even metaphorically – as an obstacle outside the human heart and mind, we're likely to think that God is being stingy with his entry visas. But that can't be case b/c we know we were created and re-created for heaven. So, what is this gate? It is a measure of how we have or have not received the Father's graces. A measure of how we have or have not put those graces to work for the salvation of souls. The more and better I put on Christ, the less there is of me to squeeze through the gate. It is Christ in me that passes through. For example, the Beatitudes tell us about those who have decreased so that Christ might increase in them. They are called “Blessed” b/c they are small in the world but large with Christ. When we run after applause, prestige, and influence all in the cause of becoming god w/o God, we refuse the graces the Father freely gives us, becoming bloated with pride and envy, displacing Christ with sin. The gate to the Kingdom appears to us to be deep and wide to accommodate our spiritual girth. I mean, why wouldn't God want someone as wonderful as Me in His Kingdom!? Jesus answers, yes, that gate is indeed wide but the broad road leading to it takes you to destruction. The narrow gate is built to fit Christ, so we can be no more than him.

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Careful how you measure!

12^th Week OT (M)

Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP

St Anthony's, NOLA

You're having a discussion with a friend about abortion or same-sex marriage or some other controversial topic. You note that the behavior under discussion is a sin. And your friend declares with great self-righteousness, “You hypocrite, remove the wooden beam from your eye first!” Now you're wondering if you're guilty of violating Jesus' command to stop judging. What does Jesus mean here by “stop judging”? We need to distinguish btw naming a sin and finding a person guilty of sin. Naming a sin is simply what it sounds like. This behavior X is sinful. Lying is sinful. Killing is sinful. Stealing is sinful. We are saying nothing more than “abstractly considered, X is a sin.” No one has been judged guilty. No one has been condemned as a sinner. What Jesus is commanding us to stop doing is finding a particular person guilty of committing a sin. Sally lied. Bob killed. Becky stole. When we do this, we're saying – in essence – I can read the soul of another person and know /hisher intent and the circumstances of his/her behavior. I know his heart; I know her mind. That's not possible. You can only know your own intent and circumstances. This is why we say in the confessional, “I accuse myself of the following sins. . .”

 

To help us stop judging others as sinful, Jesus gives us a warning, “For as you judge, so will you be judged, and the measure with which you measure will be measured out to you.” That should give you chills if you're prone to finding others guilty of sin. The standard you're using to find others guilty will be the standard used to judge you when the time comes. The smart to do is to stop “soul-reading” and start asking yourself daily, “How do I want to be judged on Judgment Day?”

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Fear nothing

 

12^th Sunday (OT)
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
Diocese of Alexandria

Fear protects us. Fear makes us sensible animals when we are in danger. Our bodies are threatened by injury, disease, and death with every breath we draw, with every step we take. Being afraid—being cautious, careful—is one way God gives us to defend ourselves against recklessness, attack, disease, and accident. When faced with the probability of bodily harm, we run or we fight. Either way, we hope to survive. And if we survive, we count ourselves extraordinarily skilled, or maybe just plain lucky. Regardless, we’re alive to confront the next possibility of injury or death. Fear protects us. Fear makes us sensible animals. But we’re not here to be sensible animals. At least, we’re not here only to be sensible animals. We have to consider as well that gift from God which makes us most like Him: our being as it was created and is recreated in His likeness and image. Given the divine end programmed into us at our creation, we are much, much more than sacks of flesh and blood and bone. We are enfleshed souls with a purpose, rational animals with a single goal. Fear blocks our best efforts at achieving that goal. Fear makes us weak in light of our mission. Ultimately, fear is spiritual death. It kills our best chance—our only chance!—of coming to God. Therefore, Jesus says to the Twelve: “Fear no one. Nothing is concealed that will not be revealed, nor secret that will not be known…Everyone who acknowledges me before others I will acknowledge before my heavenly Father.” He adds rather ominously: “…whoever denies me before others, I will deny before my heavenly Father.” Fear tempts us to deny Christ; fear pushes us to reject God’s providence.

Paul, in his letter to the Romans, preaches on the origins of death, arguing that sin and death entered into creation with the disobedience of our first father and mother, Adam and Eve. Believing that they could achieve heaven on their own, our first parents took on an awareness of good and evil that our heavenly Father wished to deny them. In other words, by disobeying God they chose death as their immediate goal, throwing away the original justice they enjoyed from God in Eden. Paul writes, “Through one man sin entered the world, and through sin, death, and thus death came to all men…death reigned from Adam to Moses…after the pattern of the trespass of Adam.” 

 

What is this pattern of trespass? Patterns repeat. Like houses built from the same blueprint, our trespasses against God look the same. Over and over—like our first father—we run after that which we think, we feel is best for us. And over and over again—like all of our ancestors in faith—we fall on our faces, suffering the consequences and wondering what went wrong. Most of the time, we act because we fear inaction; we makes decisions because we fear indecision. In deciding and acting outside the will of the Father for us, we deny His rule and both the natural and supernatural results are always disastrous. This is why Jesus tells the Twelve: “…do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather, be afraid of the one who can destroy both soul and body in Gehenna.” 

 

Because we are loved by Love Himself, we have been given a gift to use against death. Adam lost our original justice in disobedience, but our Father has restored that justice in Christ. Paul writes: “For if by the transgression of [Adam] the many died, how much more did the grace of God and the gracious gift of the one man Jesus Christ overflow for the many.” Knowing this truth and his mission to save us from sin and death, Jesus says, “Fear no one.” What is there to fear? In every instance that we might find ourselves confronted by injury, disease, or death, God is with us; His Christ reigns. Jesus, using an absurd example, teaches the Twelve: “Are not two sparrows sold for a small coin? Yet not one of them falls to the ground without our Father’s knowledge…So do not be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.” And yet, we fear. We worry. We wring our hands and nurse our ulcers with dread. For the spiritual animal, fear is death.

But surely we must worry! We have responsibilities. We’ve made promises. Signed contracts. Sworn allegiances. Besides, Australia is burning. Food is becoming more expensive. Marriage and the family are under attack. Christians are being arrested for teaching the faith. Children are suing parents. Disease is rampant. Whole continents are starving. There are civil wars, invasions, terrorist attacks, looting and rioting. All sorts of creatures – including humans – are being born deformed because of global environment pollution. We continue to believe that killing our children is the answer is overpopulation and the best way to remove inconvenient human obstacles to middle-class prosperity. We have to worry! We do? Really, we have to be worried? Has worry increased food production? Cleaned up our water supply? Stopped the killing of millions of babies? No. No amount of anxiety or fear will bring to light that which is concealed in darkness. We can wring our hands and cry until the Second Coming and nothing will change for the better. Does this sound defeatist? Quietist? Maybe. But that’s hardly the point.

Paul writes, “…the gift is not like the transgression,” meaning the gift of Christ’s life for our eternal salvation is not like the deadly transgression of Adam. Adam sinned and we all die. Christ died and we all live. Does this mean that we will be spared hunger, thirst, disease, war, natural disaster? No, it doesn’t. Does this mean that we can live comfortably in our gated communities out of harm’s reach, quietly consuming, blissfully ignorant? No, it doesn’t. But it does mean that we are focused on a goal beyond the contingencies of this life, a goal that from the other end of history provides us with the meaning of our creation and charges us with acting boldly now to do what we can to right the wrongs of our sins. We will not end hunger. But we must feed the hungry. We will not end war. But we must make peace. We will not cure every disease. But we must care for those who suffer. Our job now is to face the tasks of righteous living without fear, to do everything we can in charity to speak the truth, shed His light, proclaim the healing Word, and to die knowing that we every word we have spoken, every decision we have made, everything we have done has been an acknowledgment of Jesus as Lord. Our gift to a tragically sinful world is Christ’s gift to his tragically sinful Church: words and deed that speak to the love of a Father well-beyond our worries and fear, the mercy of a God who will bring all things into His kingdom, and make right every wrong. So, do not be afraid, each one of us is worth more to our Father than the whole of creation itself.

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Asking is receiving

11^th Week OT (R)

Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP

St. Dominic Priory, NOLA

When you water a garden – the hose gets wet before the plants do. So it is with prayer: the first beneficiary of prayer is the one praying. Surely this is why we pray. Not to change God's mind on a specific issue. Not to magically wrangle Him into granting a wish list. But to better tune ourselves to receive the graces He has given us from all eternity. “Your Father knows what you need before you ask him.” These graces roll out over time, showing up when we need them not just when we want them. So, it's best to be prepared daily to receive the bread He sends; to be open to hearing and doing His will daily; to forgive and be forgiven daily. We do this in our ordinary way through petition – by asking for what we need. But asking for what we need could lead us to believe that we are being deprived or ignored when what we ask for doesn't arrive. Jesus reminds us that asking is receiving, receiving whatever it is the Father is sending our way. So, we ask and we receive. And we benefit in the asking. How do we benefit? Over time, we become His will on earth as it is in Heaven.

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Eating to Remember

NB. I had some "things" to say, so the Holy Spirit got real quiet. Then I realized that the "things" I had to say weren't what the HS wanted me to say. . .so, I shut up and cribbed this homily from 2016. 

Corpus Christi 2020

Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP

Our Lady of the Rosary, NOLA

AUDIO FILE

As should be plainly obvious to all, I love to eat! And I love to cook. Unfortunately, everywhere I've lived as a Dominican friar, we've had someone to cook for us. One exception: during my time at Blackfriars Hall at Oxford U. the brothers took turns cooking. I loved it b/c I got to show off my southern cooking skills – fried chicken, baked pork chops, garlic mashed potatoes, cornbread. The last time I was up to cook for the 23 of us in the house, I chose to go out with an American bang – hamburgers, fries, and cole slaw. I've never seen a bunch of Brits so excited about a meal! To this day, some 16 yrs after that American blow-out, my Blackfriars brothers remember my burgers. And even the friars who joined up recently – have never even met me – know me as the Burger King! That is the power of food. That's the power of good food. . .a truth all the good citizens of New Orleans know from birth. If food this side of heaven can form the foundation of our memories, what can the Food of Heaven do for us? The Food of Heaven – the Body and Blood of Christ – can get us into heaven! But before we are ready for heaven, we have some holy work to do down here.

And helping us with our holy work is part of what the Body and Blood of Christ does. Jesus tells his disciples at one point, “You can do nothing w/o me.” He also promises them (and us), “I will be with you always.” We know that after he ascends to the Father and sends his Holy Spirit among us, Christ remains with us always in the Body of his Church – that's us. And like any hardworking body, we need good food and good drink to stay alive and working. Not just any old hamburger and diet cola will do! If we are to do the holy work we've been given to do, then we need holy food and holy drink. We need the Body and Blood of Christ to keep us alive and working. And so, Paul writes to the Corinthians, “The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ?” Every time you eat his Body and drink his Blood, you celebrate the death, resurrection, and ascension of Christ Jesus, and you do so until he comes again. That celebration, that proclamation of Christ's death, resurrection, and ascension is the source of our strength to do holy work.

When we take into ourselves his Body and Blood, we come closer to being who and what Christ himself is. My job for me is to become as much like Christ as I can this side of heaven. Your job for you is to become as much like Christ as you can this side of heaven. Why do we need to become like Christ? I need to become as much like Christ as I can so I can help you become as much like Christ as you can. I help you as a priest. You help me to become more like Christ as faithful lay men and women. We help one another according to our individual gifts, but we are all working on the same holy work: becoming Christs for one another. To be clear here: we are not just imitating Jesus to be good moral examples for one another. By worthily receiving his Body and Blood, we are made Christs for one another. Around 350 A.D., St. Cyril of Jerusalem*, addresses a group of people who were just baptized and confirmed. He says to them: “. . .having therefore become partakers of Christ you are properly called Christs. . .because you are images of Christ.” We are partakers of Christ in baptism, confirmation and, most especially, in the Eucharist; therefore, we are images of Christ and properly called Christs. 

Now, I mentioned earlier that good food makes for good memories. In my family, no event of any significance goes without a meal. We say, “When two or more Powell's are gathered together, there is a pecan pie.” I remember the big pots of seafood stew I made for my novitiate classmates. I remember the 20 course meal we made to celebrate the turn of the millennium. I remember the Memphis ribs we served at my priestly ordination. And I remember my mama's fried chicken. God rest her soul. Like I said, I like to eat. But I don't eat to remember. Remembering just comes along for the gastronomical ride. Jesus tells us to eat and drink to remember him. Not just to recall him in memory, but to re-member. . .to make us once again a member of his Body. To strengthen our attachment to his Body. To reinforce our belonging to his ministry. There's no magic to this remembrance. He says do it, and so we do. He says that the bread and wine are his Body and Blood, and so they are. He is made present in the sacrament. We eat and we drink. And grow just that much closer to him. We become just that much more like him.

The solemnity of Corpus Christi sharpens our focus on the vitality and necessity of the Eucharist to our growth in holiness. Without it, we can do nothing. Without it, we cannot thrive as followers of Christ. He is our food and drink, our life and our love. For the Eucharist, we need priests. Chicken won't fry itself. And gumbo don't grow on trees. Simply put: no priests, no Eucharist. I will end with a challenge: once a week, once a month find a chapel of perpetual adoration – we have one at St. Dominic's, there's another at St. Catherine of Siena. While in the presence of the sacramental Christ, pray for vocations to the priesthood and religious life. Specifically, pray that the men God has called to priesthood will find the courage to say Yes to that call. Pray that the men and women called to religious life will say Yes to their call. Many bishops and vocation directors in this country have testified to the power of Eucharistic Adoration to send them men for the priesthood, and men and women for religious life. We will have 150 seminarians at NDS next year. Men from about 22 dioceses from El Paso, TX to Savanna, GA. We need ten times that many for several more decades to meet the needs of Catholics in the South. We need the Body and Blood! “Unlike your ancestors who ate and still died, whoever eats this bread [and drinks this blood] will live forever.”

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