Letters from a Pastor to His People

Dear Parishioners,

If you have found yourself waiting recently at the DMV or the doctor's office, or waiting on hold for the cable, you can probably imagine well this scene from today's Gospel.  Bartimaeus, a blind man, has been sitting, begging for a long time.  He waits for something to change.  Nothing does. 

Until that monumental day when Jesus of Nazareth walks by.

Listen to what happens when Bartimaeus' name is at last called, and not just called by anyone, but by the Savior of the world: "He threw aside his cloak, sprang up, and came to Jesus (Mk 10:50)."

It's kind of like what I do when my name is called. I bolt from my chair and run to the counter.  Or a child trick-or-treating who rings the bell and there is no immediate answer.  He waits a minute and rings again.  He looks around the side to peer through the windows.  The house is dark.  Is anyone home? Should the kid wait or move on to the next house? At last the door opens! Someone is home.  And they've given out a king-sized Butterfinger! Smart move by the kid waiting! It was worth it.

Dear Parishioners,

"The LORD was pleased to crush him in infirmity" (Is 53:10).

Scripture scholars believe the prophet Isaiah is referring to Aaron Rodgers, quarterback of the Green Bay Packers.  Yes, Lord, please crush Rodgers.

Just kidding.

But seriously, who is being crushed in our first reading? And is God really pleased to see someone crushed?

From the Christian vantage point, it is Jesus Christ being crushed.  Jesus is the 'offering for sin.'It can also be us. We are called to be crushed.  We are called to be offerings.  It's our suffering that will justify many.  It is us who will be able to see the 'light in fullness' in our affliction.

It's a difficult, though certainly fulfilling, point to pray with: you are an offering.  I am an offering.  An offering entails sacrifice.  In ancient religions an offering was burned.  Today, when you make an offering, you are letting something out of your possession and it usually entails a financial cost.

On the other hand, an offering entails purposefulness.  We don't make an offering unknowingly.  If money falls out of your pocket into the collection basket, you've lost your dollar bill; you haven't offered it.  When you offer the money, you intend it and have a purpose behind it.

God uses us as offerings.  Our lives and every good thing we do go to some good purpose, like building up the church and the Body of Christ. This is what pleases the Lord.  This is why he 'crushes' us.

Our lives are not only about us.  Our joys and sufferings are not strictly our own.  We are offerings.  We are a gift to the church and to the world.

Letters from a Pastor to His People- October 14, 2018

Dear Parishioners,

We can learn so much from this rich young man!  Little did he know that his 2-minute encounter with the Lord would impact millions of people for millennia.  For instance, many other "rich young men" would likewise run up to the Lord and ask the same question.  St. Anthony, St. Augustine, St. Francis of Assisi, St. Charles de Foucald, among others, would not make the same mistake this man from the Gospel did.  These saints would be able to give up everything.  They would not walk away sad, but, on the contrary, would follow Christ and experience fulfillment.

Yes, a path of discipleship entails sacrifices.  If we are to be committed Catholics, intentional in our faith and not lukewarm, there are many deaths, some little, that we will undergo.  We should always keep the rich young man in mind.  He was afraid to give up his wealth.  He could not make that sacrifice.  He thought holding onto the money was a wiser decision.  Was it?  No!   He went away sad. 

Those things we think we "need" in our life—those things we cannot live without—often don't bring us true happiness.  If we keep them, and instead let Christ go, we will be sad, like the rich young man.  That's the pitfall we all have to avoid.  That's the temptation to shun.  Possessions and attachments do not give us the safety or happiness we think they do.  Only Christ does.

Jesus calls us to poverty. "It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for one who is rich to enter the kingdom of God" (Mk 10:25).

Letters from a Pastor to His People- October 7, 2018

Dear Parishioners,

A boy once asked his mom where human beings came from.  "From God," she said. "God created us, starting with Adam and Eve." The boy then went off and asked his dad the same question. "We descended from apes," came the father's response.  When the boy went back to his mother and told her the contradicting answer, the mother said.  "That's okay, honey. Dad is just telling you his family tree. I'm telling you mine."

Ah, marriage, the topic of our readings this week. What shall I say about it?

Sticking with the joke theme, my grandpa likes to kid, when asked how he and my grandma, married for nearly 60 years, have persevered, "we go out to dinner twice a week...she goes Mondays, I go Wednesdays."

I wonder if there's some wisdom in that.  Temporary separation is healthy in any situation and in any relationship.  We need time off.  We need vacations.  We need "alone time." Time away not only refreshes us, it also gives us an appreciation for what/who we have. 

Let's be clear, though.  We're never completely separated from our spouse or work or whatever.  It's not like a husband who takes a golfing trip with his friends is "unmarried" and single for those five days.  Or the fireman ceases in his heart to be a fireman during furlough.