Homily for the Twenty-Second Sunday in OT (A)

When I entered the seminary, in addition to all of the interviews and tests we had to go through, we were asked to write a spiritual autobiography. We were asked to narrate our spiritual journey from childhood, all the way through adolescence, to the point at which we then stood: at the cusp of answering a vocation to religious life and priesthood.

How, we were asked, had our understanding of and relationship with God changed and evolved during our life? Who were the people who had had the most influence on our spiritual development and what events in our lives had most shaped our faith? Finally, we were asked, what faith question is still deeply challenging for you?

It was an easy question for me to answer: I said that my faith was most challenged by the problem of suffering. How can it be that a loving God allows us to suffer? What good could possibly come from our suffering?

I think it’s fair to guess that a good number of you would answer the same way I did. I say that because the Problem of Evil, as this question is often called, is one of the great philosophical quandaries of human history. At some point in our lives we all face this question of the meaning of suffering in our lives and in the lives of those we love.

In today’s Gospel, Peter and the Apostles face this very same question. After the spiritual high they must have felt watching Peter walk on the water, and then being given a share in Jesus’ mission of Reconciliation, Jesus now throws a wrench into the works.

He explains to the Apostles that He “must go to Jerusalem and suffer greatly from the elders, the chief priest and the scribes, and be killed and on the third day be raised.”

Faced with this prophecy of suffering and death, Peter pulls Jesus aside and rebukes Him saying, “God forbid, Lord! No such thing shall ever happen to you.”

But Jesus responds in anger. Peter is attempting to deny the Lord His Passion, offering a temptation to reject the will of the Father, which Jesus was sent to accomplish. And so Jesus responds, “get behind me Satan! You are an obstacle to me. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.”

Like Peter, when we encounter suffering we usually think not as God does, but as human beings do. We imagine suffering to be proof that God doesn’t exist, or a sign that God is ignoring us or punishing us.

Like Peter, who thought that Jesus’ suffering would keep Him from accomplishing the work and receiving the honor due to the Messiah, we think that suffering is a failure and a loss – suffering is something that keeps us from being all that we could or should be. We see suffering as an obstacle to happiness and a destruction of the self.

But if Jesus makes it clear that Peter’s understanding of suffering is inconsistent with God’s, then ours must be as well. It must somehow be the case that suffering isn’t a sign of God’s displeasure – that suffering isn’t an obstacle to happiness, but rather is a path to the fullness of life and joy that Jesus came to give us.

So how is it that suffering can in fact be life giving – be a means of fulfilling the self and achieving happiness?

After I finished that spiritual autobiography and was accepted into the seminary, an older priest, a brilliant professor of philosophy told us that the secret to being good priests was to have our hearts broken.

I think we imagined he was referring to celibacy and forgoing marriage and family.

But he explained that the only way to be a good priest was to love as deeply as Christ loves – and the only way to do that was to have our hearts broken-open through some suffering or loss. Only then would the true wellspring of our love pour forth, just as surely as it did from the Sacred Heart of Jesus pierced while on the Cross.

You see, suffering is life-giving, suffering is a means to wholeness and happiness, because “suffering is the inner side of love.” (Ben. XVI)

You all know well that to love someone is to be taken out of our own comfort and tranquility and to make ourselves vulnerable to the one we love. We are re-shaped, re-formed, indeed we begin to become one with the other whom we love.

Thus, when a spouse is diagnosed with cancer or looses their job, when a child skins their knee or makes poor choices with alcohol or drugs, the suffering we must watch them experience becomes our suffering as well – and yet, we don’t shrink back from them or from the suffering . . . our heart pours out even more love for them because the shared suffering has opened within us new depths of life and love.

The French Catholic novelist Loen Bloy put it this way: “Man has places in his heart which do not yet exist and into them enters suffering, in order that they may have existence.”

When we find it within ourselves to accept the suffering that enters into our lives – when we accept that we will sometimes be sick and infirm in our bodies, or anxious and confused in our spirit; when we accept that we are not somehow above being hurt by others’ words and actions – we actually become more mature, more capable of understanding others precisely because we have suffered.

We are able to unite ourselves not only with our loved ones, but with brothers and sisters around the world and throughout time, who have suffered as we do. What is more we come to better appreciate and share in Jesus’ suffering and thus become truly human and discover who we were meant to be from the beginning.

However, if we avoid suffering at all costs, then we refuse to make ourselves vulnerable and end up retreating from love and isolating ourselves. There are parts of our hearts that remain forever dead, and others that die because we have become hardened and selfish.

Just as God did not abandon His only Son, but gave the Cross as a gift of love for the entire world, so too, God gives us a share in Jesus’ cross – inviting us to “deny ourselves, take up our cross and follow Him” – not because He is displeased with us, or wants us to be miserable and incomplete, but because it is only in losing our life that we will find it.

As I have said before, and has ever been true from the day Jesus spoke these words, losing one’s life in order to find it is the central and radical paradox of Christian life. It is seemingly such an absurd paradox that Jesus’ contemporaries, even His Apostles, think Him to be talking like a madman.

And throughout Christian history, men and women who respond to Jesus’ invitation and accept suffering with humility and even joy have been an object of the world’s laughter and derision – just as Jeremiah was in our first reading.

Like Peter who was tempted by his own culture and times into an incomplete understanding of Jesus’ mission as the Messiah, so too we can be tempted by our culture and times into shrinking from suffering, avoiding pain and suffering at all costs; looking out for only ourselves. We can be made to believe that Jesus’ words are all folly and that suffering is pointless, without worth, un-redeemable.

That’s why St. Paul admonishes us in our second reading not to conform ourselves to this age or any age, because they are all passing and fleeting and have all been challenged by the scandal of the Cross.

Rather, we must be transformed into Christ: we must re-form ourselves by “offering our bodies as a living sacrifice” . . . which is to say, we must shape our lives in the form of His Cross, laying down ourselves to do the will of God. It is in this way, and this way only, that we will accomplish all that “is good and pleasing and perfect.”

Willamette Valley Road-Trip

Portland endured a rather poor week of summer weather last week . . . which is to say that it seemed more like our fall weather: cool and wet. Thankfully, by Friday things had gotten back to normal, sunny and warm, which was perfect for our day trip to the Oregon wine country.

Kevin, Jeanette and I drove south into the Willamette Valley and Dundee, Oregon the unofficial heart of the Oregon wine industry. None of us are serious enough about wine to have done much research into which wineries are the best - we just wanted to get a flavor for the place.

Although I regularly visit this part of the state (more on that later) I had never visited any of the wineries, so I was very much looking forward to a new experience.

We drove past dozens of wineries and were able to see both vines, and hops (for Oregon's other great adult beverage industry!) all along the country roads. We stopped at three different wineries and sampled the Pinot Noir wines that the region is famous for.  

Our first stop  was at Sokol Blosser Winery, and in the end I think we liked their wines best. The woman who founded this winery was recently awarded an honorary doctorate from the University of Portland. 

Next up was Domaine Serene, which is pictured below. I confess to being more interested in the architecture of their Tuscan inspired winery, but judging from the prices of their wines they must be pretty good.  Finally, we made a brief stop at Domaine Drouhin and enjoyed a sample of their Chardonnay Arthur which has been served more than once at White House state dinners. 

I mentioned earlier that I am often in this part of the Willamette Valley. Once a month I visit Our Lady of Guadalupe Trappist Abbey in Lafayette Oregon to see my spiritual director, Fr. Casey Bailey, OCSO. I typically spend part of the day on the beautiful grounds, reading, hiking and praying. After meeting with Fr. Casey I often join the monks for Vespers.

Recently, the monastic community dedicated its new chapel. Although it isn't exactly my preferred style of architecture, it is admittedly a very beautiful space and I have very much enjoyed praying there since its dedication in December.

Be sure to visit the Abbey's web-page and order some of their fruit cake. I can't stand fruit cake . . . but people I know who do enjoy it say that Our Lady of Guadalupe makes some of the best!

Homily for the Twenty-First Sunday in OT (A)

If I asked you to define the word “confess” you would undoubtedly say that it means something like: “to admit or acknowledge one’s sins or faults.” But that is only one of the word’s definitions. The other is equally important and is intimately connected with the more popular definition. To confess also means to “acknowledge, declare or profess belief in.”

With this important point established, I can now say boldly that today’s Gospel is all about confession! Yes, it is about the confession and forgiveness of our sins – and I’ll talk more about that in turn – but first the Gospel is about confession in an older and currently more obscure sense.

When Jesus asks His Apostles “who do people say that the Son of Man is,” they tell Him that some think He is “John the Baptist, others Elijah, still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” But then Jesus asks the question He is really interested in. He asks, “Who do you say that I am”

In the course of our lives Jesus asks each and every one of us this very same question. It is, for believers, the single most important question in human history and the quality of our discipleship depends on the answer we give.

Throughout the past two thousand years, and up to the current day, there have been plenty of people who admire Jesus. They appreciate His message of peace, they respect Him as an ethical teacher, perhaps they even follow Him as a moral exemplar. But while all of this is true and significant it is simply insufficient for true discipleship.

If all of that were a sufficient answer to the question, “Who do you say that I am?” then Jesus would merely be another Buddha, or Mohammed: a human spiritual guru or a founder of a movement.

But for the true disciple, Jesus is always much more than that. In the Gospel, Peter provides the truest and best answer to this all-important question: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”

Peter’s confession, his declaration of belief, is the essence of faith which the entire Church never tires of confessing throughout history. We proclaim our belief that Jesus is nothing less than “the Christ, the Son of the living God.” He is more than an ethical teacher, more than a moral exemplar: Jesus is God Himself!

Acceptance or rejection of this singular fact was the distinguishing factor between those who followed Jesus and those who sought to have Him killed. Recall that when the leaders and chief priests have Jesus arrested and brought before Herod and Pilate it is because “He claimed to be the Son of God.” And recall that they said this because Jesus had forgiven people’s sins, and the Pharisees rightly asked, “who can forgive sins but God alone.”

Of course, the correct conclusion still eluded them: they failed to recognize that Jesus was indeed the Son of God whose entire mission and purpose was to reconcile all creation to the Father through the forgiveness of sins.

It’s precisely in this realization that we believers can rightly see that Peter’s confession and the faith of the Church in Jesus’ Divinity are the essential foundation upon which one can then speak about the other meaning of confession: which we have already said is the admission and forgiveness of sin.

Immediately after Peter makes his startling confession of faith, Jesus promises Peter that he will be the rock upon which the Church is built and then He says, “I will give you the keys to the Kingdom of Heaven. Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.”


The Church has always, from the time of the Apostles until now, understood Jesus to have thereby given His Apostles the power to forgive sins in His name, and thus perpetuate in the Church His ministry of reconciliation.

And yet it is fair to say that this second definition of confession, this public and sacramental acknowledgement and forgiveness of our sins has always been a source of confusion for those outside the Church. And now, confession is even undergoing a crisis of identity among otherwise practicing Catholics.

Catholics today have seemingly lost faith in the Sacrament of Confession and it is less and less a part of their lives. In 1990 the US Bishops conducted a survey of American Catholics and wrote a study about some of the reasons we do not make use of confession anymore. I’m going to summarize what they said into five brief reasons – see if any of them resonate with you:

1. We don’t want to face our sinfulness.

This is the most fundamental and perhaps the most honest reason for avoiding confession: none of us likes having to face and admit our own sinfulness. It’s only honest to admit that confession of sin is not, at first, a pleasant experience.

To make things worse, “our fiercely competitive society pushes people to always project the most positive possible image of themselves; an image which allows no room for any admission of weakness, let alone failure.” But we cannot think that this is somehow justification for not confessing our sins.

During the Olympic Games the sportscasters made frequent reference to the fact that Michael Phelps, now perhaps the greatest athlete of all time, spends hours with his coaches looking at video of his races finding the flaws and mistakes in his performance.

Being great means that we are humble enough and brave enough to examine our faults. The saints, who universally loved confession, teach us the same lesson. They show us that the reward of our confession “is the experience not of the contempt, rejection, or derision that” the world “might lead us to expect, but the acceptance, understanding, compassion and love of our merciful and forgiving God.”

2. We think psychology is sufficient.

Thanks to truly wonderful advances in the human sciences we moderns have come to think as if psychology renders confession obsolete. Psychoanalysis, psychotherapy and counseling, we imagine, offer a sufficient means of healing the human person. But this kind of thinking reduces the human being: we are not merely biological beings, and neither are we merely psychological beings: we are spiritual beings.

The healing of our psychic or mental health is an important thing – but it is insufficient, in and of itself, because it ignores the supernatural, spiritual essence of humanity which concerns our relationship to God. Sinfulness is more than a neurosis, and therefore it requires not treatment, but God’s forgiveness. Sin requires confession.

3. We think there are other ways to find God’s forgiveness.

Even when we admit to needing and even wanting God’s forgiveness we can sometimes convince ourselves that God’s forgiveness can be obtained solely through personal prayer, or by coming to Mass, or by taking a walk in nature.

While we do indeed experience proof of God’s loving mercy in a myriad of ways, it is sheer wishful thinking to believe that we don’t need confession. There is simply no way around the fact that Jesus Himself established confession as the ordinary means of receiving God’s forgiveness. Put bluntly, since we are sinners, and God is God, it’s His right to determine how we are to be reconciled to Him – and that way is confession.

4. We don’t want to confess to a priest.

This is undoubtedly the classic Protestant objection to confession. No mere human being, it is said, is capable of forgiving someone’s sins. But “no Catholic believes that a priest simply as an individual man, however pious or learned, has the power to forgive sins.” It is only because Jesus “the Christ, the Son of the living God,” gave His Apostles the ability to forgive sins in His name that the Church remains faithful to this mission – just as surely as it remains faithful to Jesus’ command to “baptize all the nations” and to His command to “do this in remembrance of me.” The sacramental life of the Church is administered through her priests.


It is perfectly appropriate, however, to admit that whatever the circumstance, confessing one’s sins to another person requires the virtue of humility. We might benefit, therefore, from thinking about why the Lord might ask for this kind of humility from us. What might be the spiritual benefit?

I think there are at least two: First, we all know well the human tendency to self-justify and rationalize. We all want to mitigate our culpability and to absolve ourselves of wrongdoing. Often, it is only when we say something out-loud, to another person that we allow ourselves to stare reality in the face and accept that we are in fact guilty. And as any true program of personal growth recognizes, this is the essential first step toward healing. Speaking to a priest in the secrecy of the confessional gives us a safe dose of the reality we sometimes need.

But confession also soothes the sting of that reality by giving us clear access to God’s gentle mercy and forgiveness. Confession ensures that we don’t fall into the other extreme of despair and self-loathing. When we hear the advice the priest gives, and especially when we hear the Prayer of Absolution, God speaks to us not in silence, but through a human face and a human voice – making His mercy humanly tangible and undeniable.

For my money, that’s a decent shorthand answer for why Jesus gave us the gift of confession in the manner he chose.

5. We simply don’t know what to do or to say in confession.

Finally, and perhaps most sadly, the fifth reason that many people fail to make use of confession is because they feel they don’t know, or have never been taught, what to do or to say. If you feel that way, I strongly urge you to make use of instruction sheets like the ones we offer in the vestibule of the church. They not only give simple directions for what to do and say, but also offer powerful suggestions for ways to experience the depth and beauty of this most precious Sacrament.

Please believe me when I say that Fr. Joe and I are most eager for more of our parishioners to make more regular use of confession, and we promise to gently lead you through the newness or nervousness you might experience.

Friends, in today’s Gospel, Peter gives voice to the confession of the entire Church, that Jesus is the Son of God. In turn, Jesus founds His Church on Peter and gives Her the gift of the Sacrament of Confession. May we never stray from the Church’s confession of faith and may we find in the confession of our sins the reconciliation that Christ came to give.

Stay-cation

I've spent the remainder of the week here in Portland hosting Kevin and Jeanette in the Rose City. As always, it's been a real pleasure spending time with them. I'll have a few more pictures to share from the stay-cation portion of the week . . . including our trip to the Willamette Valley wine country.

I did get some work in this week as well. I finished preparations for a wedding that I celebrated today - and, of course, I spent a bit of time working on my homily for the weekend. That'll be up next.  Enjoy!

Day Three - San Juan Islands

On Saturday we made a day-trip outside of Seattle. We drove north from Seattle to Anacortes, Washington and boarded a Washington State Ferry for Friday Harbor on the San Juan Islands.

Arriving in Friday Harbor, we boarded a smaller private vessel for a whale watching excursion.

It was a beautiful day to be out on the water, and we weren't disappointed in our whale-seeking. We found and followed a pod of migratory Orca whales that were hunting seals. There were probably five or six whales in the pod and we followed them for about an hour. They came up every five to seven minutes and made three or four blows while surfacing. Then it was back down for hunting.

While we were in Seattle the papers excitedly reported the birth of an Orca calf in one of the San Juan Island pods. Sadly, they also reported that the grandmother and matriarch of one of the pods had not been spotted this summer, and she is feared to have died during the winter.

Once back in Seattle after an exciting but long day, we found that the fresh air had made us hungry :) We had a wonderful meal at The Brooklyn (when I saw the name I said, "That can't be all bad.") and afterwards had a glass of wine at a most amazing and trendy wine bar just doors down from our hotel. The Purple Cafe has an almost two-story tall wine tower in the center of the bar and late on a Saturday night it was clearly one of the places to be downtown.

The Emerald City - Day Two

We began our second day in Seattle with a walking breakfast in Pike's Market. Then we walked down to Pioneer Square to take the famed Underground Tour. The current street level of downtown is anywhere from 5 to 35 feet above the original sea-level of the first city. The original street-level is still accessible "underground" and it provides a fascinating exposure to the pioneer history of Seattle.

After the tour be walked a few blocks to Salumi for wonderful Italian sandwiches piled high with house-cured salamis. Delicious!

Another walk of a few blocks brought us to Seattle's International District where we snooped around one of the largest Asian markets in the country. It was just amazing to look at all of the exotic foods!

After such a wonderful lunch a longer walk was in order. From the International District we walked up Capitol Hill passed Seattle University and into the shops and restaurants that line Broadway. 

While we were in Seattle the temperatures were in the low 90's - but all three of the days broke all-time heat records for the city. The weather didn't stop us, but we did take some time in the early evenings to cool down and rest before dinner.

We took dinner at the Bluwater Bistro, which had fabulous views of Lake Union. It was a lovely evening and there was a great Friday evening crowd. We enjoyed a leisurely meal as the sun set, and watched sea-planes taking off and landing on the lake.

After dinner we drove to the University District located next to the University of Washington. There was a nice college-town main street, but we were all surprised at how quiet it was for a Friday night - even if it is summer break.

At the end of another lovely day we retired to our hotel, to find a guest in the room . . . each guest at the Hotel Monaco is given a pet fish for their stay! Here's mine, his name is George:

The Emerald City - Day One

This week I will have the pleasure of hosting my dear friends Kevin and Jeanette Haley for their second visit to Portland. But before I host them in Portland, we're spending a few days together up north, exploring Seattle, Washington. 

Though I have been to Seattle a couple of times for day trips, (including for a Mariners' game and the U2 Vertigo Tour) this will be my first chance to experience the city in depth and really get a feel for it.

We arrived in Seattle this morning and went directly to the famous Pike Place Market.

Located just above Puget Sound this public market has much more than flying fish to offer. We had a few freshly made mini doughnuts for breakfast and enjoyed walking through the various food and flower vendors . . . 

Later we had lunch at Piroshky, Piroshky: a locally famous vendor of meat and cheese filled Russian pastries. They were really good!

We spent the rest of the afternoon walking along the Eliot Bay Waterfront and into the Pioneer Square neighborhood. We got the chance to see several things that we'd read about in guidebooks or had recommended to us by friends . . . but we were also able to get our directional bearings and lay-out a plan of attack for the next few days.

To rest our legs and cool off a bit, we checked-in at the Hotel Monaco and relaxed for a bit. Then it was back to the waterfront to have dinner at Ivar's seafood restaurant. 

After dinner we went up to the Seattle Center and the world-famous Space Needle. The night-time view from the top was most impressive and we enjoyed the delightful summer breezes from the Sound.

On the way home, we had the pleasure of riding the monorail . . . which was a bit of a surprise to me: I had heard that the monorail was out of operation after an accident last year, but apparently everything is up and running smoothly.

"Citius, Altius, Fortius"

When I said in this weekend's homily that I was excited about the Summer Olympics, I wasn't kidding. . . On Friday evening, to celebrate the opening of the 29th Olympiad, the Noems and I shared a Chinese take-out dinner as we awaited NBC's coverage of the Opening Ceremonies. Josh set a lovely table for our evening together:

(Admittedly we took some liberties with the Chinese theme . . . our beverage of choice was sake, which is of course Japanese, not Chinese . . . and I'm not sure about the Buddha Board

that served as our interactive entertainment, but I think that is sufficiently Chinese and Japanese.)

Never one to make getting food into my mouth any harder than it needs to be, I left the chopsticks on the plate and used my fork. But the lady of the house decided that I was wimping out . . . so she insisted I borrow her sons' kiddie chopsticks: 

Sufficiently loaded down with MSG we retired to the living room for the Opening Ceremonies. Jim Gallaher, who is back in Portland for the week to celebrate two weddings, joined us for the viewing

From start to finish we were all blown away by the ceremonies.  (Okay . . . Josh, Stacey, Oscar and I were blown away . . . ever the cynic, Jim slowly worked his way toward excitement.) I simply can't ever remember being so impressed by an Olympic ceremony.

Beyond the obvious technical and artistic achievements that were on display, I couldn't help but think of some of the historical and cultural implications: Will these Games inspire a new interest in China among young Westerners, and a deeper internationalism among young Chinese? Was the ceremony's appreciation for China's history and diversity typical for the People's Republic or was this something new? Might these Games just prove to be the catalyst for freedom in China that the world has hoped for?

Let's hope and pray this is the case. As we celebrate the Olympic ideals by cheering these athletes on, let's pray in a particular way for the Church in China - that our brothers and sisters there will have the freedom necessary to practice the faith.

Homily for the Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

I don’t know about you, but I am VERY excited about the Summer Olympic Games that are now underway. Over the past few weeks I have been enjoying different articles and reports on the athletes that will be competing in the Games and now I look forward to seeing how they live out their Olympic dreams.

Whenever I watch the Olympics I can’t help but be amazed by the discipline, the determination, and the skill of the athletes involved. I’m particularly fascinated by athletes who achieve results that were previously deemed impossible, and yet they seem to accomplish their great feat with such ease.

IN THE ZONE

If you watch the Olympics at all over the next two weeks, or if you are a sports fan in general, you will undoubtedly hear one of the sportscasters describe such an athlete as “in the zone.”

I think we automatically know what that phrase means when we hear it. We know it applies to Michael Jordan when he simply could not miss because he was shooting so well – or to a pitcher when he is simply un-hittable and throws a perfect game – or to Tiger Woods almost whenever he swings a club.

Many of you, whether you’re athletes or not, have experienced this sensation for yourself. Being “in the zone” means that we are “immune to pressure, and not worried about outcomes” (Phil Simms about his play in Super Bowl XXI). We are so focused on what we are doing that we seem to be outside of ourselves. We are achieving or succeeding at whatever we’re doing and yet it seems completely effortless.

Psychologists have a term for this phenomenon, they call it “flow.” They say that the experience involves having clear goals, concentration, and focus, but with a loss of the feeling of self-consciousness – and that all these factors lead ultimately to the merging of action and awareness, to the unity of our being and our doing; and that this unity gives us a feeling of “transcendence.”

Now if “transcendence” sounds awfully spiritual, well it is. Sports psychologists point out that this psychology of “flow” is related in theory to the philosophy of Zen Buddhism which seeks to overcome the separation of self and object . . . in other words, “being one with things.” That’s why we teach our children when they’re learning a sport to “be one with the ball.”

TODAY’S GOSPEL

I bring all this up because I think that this is not at all dissimilar to what happens in today’s Gospel – and therefore is not at all dissimilar to our own daily lives.

When Peter sees Jesus walking toward him on the stormy seas he asks that Jesus instruct him to “come to Him.” Jesus says, “come” and Peter walks toward Him on the water. So long as Peter is determined and focused on Jesus, his goal, he is fine. He is “in the zone” – he is outside himself, and is one with the object of his action: Jesus. Peter is thus able to achieve something beyond anyone’s wildest imaginations because he participates in Jesus’ divine life.

But as soon as Peter stops focusing solely on Jesus; when he loses his focus and turns and notices the wind and the seas, he falls “out of the zone” and all his success turns to failure. He starts to sink back into the waters of sin and chaos that he had just been striding over with ease.

This entire Gospel is an image for our own lives as well. Whenever Peter and the disciples are in the boat you can be sure we are talking about us, the Church, sailing over the stormy waters of history.
And just as He did that night on the sea, Jesus comes to us in the midst of our turbulent lives and says: “It is I; be not afraid.”

Like Peter, we yearn for communion with Jesus, we want to go out to meet Him. Maybe, for a time, we succeed at keeping Jesus as the focus of our lives – and like Peter we seem to succeed with ease. But like Peter, we eventually slip and loose our focus, loose our single-mindedness.

We turn our gaze from Jesus and begin to put our trust and confidence in someone or something else. We begin to hope and trust less in Jesus and more in the latest guru or philosophy, in the latest technology or social movement, the in the latest politician or policy.

And when any of these things, or perhaps worst of all our own egos, replace Jesus Christ as the center of our focus, then like Peter we too sink back into the waters of chaos. We loose the peace that Jesus is able to restore to the waters of the sea, and the waters of our life’s journey.

DISCIPLINE

So, how is it that we can increase our focus? How can we grow in our ability to place Jesus Christ at the center of our lives so that we can develop His divine life within us and with Him walk victoriously over the waters of sin, failure, fear, hatred, and violence.

Think back with me to the athletes I mentioned earlier. They are only capable of achieving “flow,” of achieving a moment of transcendence, when their concentration is honed by discipline. They practice for endless hours, repeating over and over again the task of their sport, until they have so internalized their movement that their effort and their being are one.

Only by discipline will we be able to grow in our ability to keep Jesus Christ at the center of our lives and become one with Him who is our goal. This, in fact, is precisely what the saints show us by their lives. The saints are, in the words of St. Paul, those victors who have run the race, finished the course, competed well and won the prize of Jesus Christ their Lord.

We too are destined to be saints, and will be, if we but make the choices, the sacrifices, undergo the discipline that holiness requires.

Sadly, our modern culture isn’t particularly high on discipline. We tend to think that discipline stifles and restricts human freedom. We recognize that discipline is hard work and that it takes time and frankly, we would rather have instant gratification. We are, after all, a culture of instant messaging, of “buy now, pay later” – and this is simply not the way of discipline.

SILENCE

We have to buck the popular trend and grow in discipline if we want to grow in holiness and experience the peace that comes from having Jesus Christ at the center of our life. So what practices, what “exercise” routines and habits can we cultivate in our lives to help us grow in discipline and faith?

There are obviously hundreds of good answers to this question, from the study of Holy Scripture, to the practice of charity. But for today I want to focus briefly on just one discipline that is suggested to us in today’s readings.

I mentioned earlier the philosophy of Zen Buddhism. I’m often amazed at how many people in our society today, everyone from Christians to atheists, have become enamored by all things Zen.

I don’t think it’s an “accident that . . . people are seeking techniques of meditation, are seeking a spirituality for emptying the mind. One of our deepest needs is clearly making its presence felt. . .” (Pope Benedict XVI). Humanity needs and yearns for the discipline of silence.

And of course this deep need is manifesting itself more and more: our modern world has become such a cacophony of noise that we have almost forgotten what silence is, and have thus come almost to fear it. We fill every waking minute of our days with radio in the car, iPods in our ears, cell phones ringing, 24-hour TV news talking in the background of everything.

But as we learn from our first reading, from the experience of Elijah on the mountain, God’s voice can only be heard in the still “tiny whisper” of silence. It is only in silence that can we find ourselves and find God and experience the transcendence of wedding ourselves to the divine life.

While we fill our lives with more and more noise and thereby push God out of more and more areas of our lives, God is all the while inviting us into the silent peace of His presence. Friends, we need not turn to Buddhism in order to learn how to grow in this discipline of silence. Christ’s own example, and the lives of all the saints show us how to develop a life of personal silent prayer, even in the midst of busy active lives, and thus grow in holiness.

Amidst the craziness and busyness of your daily life can you commit to disciplining yourself enough to practice silence? Can you start by finding even just five or ten minutes in your day to silence all the noise of your life, even the noise of your own thoughts, and focus solely on Jesus Christ and listen for His voice?

Turn the radio off in the car. Lock yourself in the bathroom and sit in the tub. Better yet, come to Eucharistic Adoration and sit, even for a little while, before Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. Whatever it takes, find some way, any way, to discipline your mind and heart through silent attention to God’s voice.

Though I too struggle with this discipline, I am thoroughly convinced that the more we practice silence, the more we will experience the love of Jesus Christ as the center of our lives, and know the peace and the courage that He wants to give us.

Museum of the City of New York

I posted earlier that my parents and I first viewed the NYC Waterfalls on our way to another destination: we were headed uptown to the Museum of the City of New York, on Fifth Avenue, to see their exhibit: 

It was the first time that any of us had been to the Museum and I think that we were pretty well impressed. There doesn't seem to be much of a standing collection, but the rotating exhibits, like the one we came to see, are well-planned and executed.

The exhibit is intended to help mark the 200th anniversary of the establishment of the Diocese (now Archdiocese, of course) of New York. Although there was some context given about Catholicism in New York prior to the establishment of the Diocese, and there was some coverage of Catholicism in post-war New York, the exhibit's clear focus was from 1808-1946.

I was trying to be on vacation, so I didn't have all of my "American-Catholic-Historian-Hopeful" antennae working, but my basic assessment is that the exhibit was well done. While I can't imagine that everyone working on this exhibit was a practicing Catholic, or even versed in things religious, the themes and texts of the exhibit avoided most of the usual pit-falls associated with Church history.

I was particularly impressed that due attention was given to anti-Catholicism and that there were few if any attempts at cheap shots even as mention was made of the modern-day clerical abuse crisis.

Given obvious time and space restrictions, I think the curators did a good job of touching on the major themes of Catholic life in New York and in making their case that Catholics in New York are themselves the essence of the (New York and) "American story."

NYC Waterfalls

As you all know, New York is the greatest city on earth. And one of the many things that makes a great city is an appreciation and care for public spaces and art. After Mayor Giuliani helped clean the city and dramatically lower crime, Mayor Bloomberg has been able to take the next step, not only "greening" the city but also making sure that the city is once more a patron of the arts. 

Many of you will remember the amazing "Gates" project in Central Park a few years back:

Currently, the city is hosting another large scale public art exhibit: "NYC Waterfalls." Olafur Eliasson has built four huge waterfalls along the East River. Here's the southern-most waterfall on Governor's Island:

There are three more further up the East River: one on the Brooklyn side, one on the Manhattan side, and my favorite, one under the Brooklyn tower of the Brooklyn Bridge:

While I was home, my parents and I took two trips into the city to view these waterfalls, once on our way to another stop (more later) and then a special trip to see the waterfalls lit up at night. Obviously those pictures didn't come out very well - but trust me they are really spectacular, especially at night, and especially the waterfall under the Brooklyn Bridge.

I'm sure there are some out there who would claim to "see" the artist's intention and meaning. I'm also sure that there are others who would say it is merely a big waste of money.  I refuse to be either of these people. 

I don't know what, or even if Mr. Eliasson intended us to take a message from his art. I only know that what he has done (like "The Gates" before him) is whimsical and beautiful and fun. It has clearly brought people out to enjoy the city, the weather, the waterfalls, and to mix in each other's company in a way that only residents of a great city can. Finally, they have offered people a "natural" sight and sound not usually seen or heard in New York City. To me, this makes it all well worth it.

And speaking of worth it . . . my parents and I took the ferry back and forth to Manhattan. The best bang for your buck in NYC is still a ride on the Staten Island Ferry. Cool breezes, great views, fun people watching and the price is right: $0.00 !!