"So that in all things...God may be glorified!"

Jesus' January 2012 Message

2012-01-01T16:05:00.000-05:00

January 2012 English Monthly Message

My 8th Graders are Sending Me to France!

2011-12-07T15:37:00.007-05:00

Today, I celebrate my 50th birthday. If you want to know how my 8th graders celebrated my birthday click on the following links!

Lourdes France

God has blessed me in so many ways. Thank you Holy Name Class of 2012. You will forever be remembered in my heart! May God bless you with all that is good.

If you want to read one more article you can read this one from the Criterion.

Love and Prayers,
Sr. Nicolette

1st Week of Advent 2011

2011-11-28T05:44:00.002-05:00

Watch

Prepare

Be Ready

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 32nd Sunday of Ordinary Time

2011-11-06T19:26:00.001-05:00

Readings: Wis 6:12-16; 1 Thess 4:13-18; Mt 25:1-13

One of my longstanding memories of grade school years at St. Mary’s in Huntingburg is belonging to the Boy Scouts. St. Mary’s had its own Scout troop. The Scouts provided many vital activities for young boys. The Scouts tried to encourage boys to become helpful and productive members of society. You could learn various skills by acquiring merit badges. You learned to appreciate nature by camping out on weekends. Above all, you were taught to "be prepared" to deal with any kind of challenging situation that might arise. The traditional example was helping an elderly lady to cross a street. There were, of course, some aspects about the Boy Scouts that seemed contradictory. For example, we had a wonderful Scout cabin at St. Mary’s that served as our private meeting place. But the inside of the cabin was decorated with various items that had been stolen from different places the Scouts had camped through the years— road signs with place names were preferred. Nonetheless, the overall purpose of the Scouts was the motto, Be Prepared, to deal with anything.

From this perspective Jesus appears to be a distant precursor of the Scouts. One aspect of his teaching is to "Be Prepared," as shown in today’s gospel story about the foolish and wise virgins. There are, of course, quite different purposes between Jesus and the Scouts. The Scouts wanted to be prepared to be a helpful member of society. Jesus message of "Be Prepared," aims at expecting the sudden coming of the Kingdom of God. St. Benedict has his own version of "be prepared" in his admonition to "keep death daily before one’s eyes."

In each case "be prepared" addresses the common supposition we often have that each day is going to go pretty much as we expect it to. And many days they do. But sometimes things change—suddenly and drastically. Frequently it’s something you never saw coming. I think of that in the mornings when I’m watching the news on TV, seeing car accidents that are changing the lives of people forever—in ways they probably never thought of. I never thought my severe back problems would return after I gave up golf. But here they are and I am trying to cope with a new direction in life. On a larger scale most Catholics in the 1960s never saw the Second Vatican Council coming. We see now what the last fifty years in the Church have been like. In no case is it ever easy.

We might consider this an essential step in developing a solid spirituality—that from time to time we need to stop and consider all that we take for granted in life and faith and consider that anything might change radically. And that includes our relationship with God and with Jesus Christ. These are very special areas where we do like to get into a "comfort zone." We like to get a particular style of prayer that we feel comfortable with and then just stay there. Any kind of change can really upset us. And often our first reaction to change is to think that something is wrong with us or somehow God has changed attitudes towards us. We find ourselves swimming in the dark, not knowing which way to turn. But a spirituality of an instability moment might help us better in our initial response. By an instability moment I mean, when a shocking change occurs in our lives, we might recognize that big changes have come upon us and realize that we are going to have to do some serious rearranging in our lives. And God, in fact, deals with us that way. We have heard so often the biblical saying from the prophet Isaiah, "My thoughts are not your thoughts, and your ways are not my ways, says the Lord." (55:10) There are times when we really, really have to take that to heart.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 31st Sunday in Ordinary Time

2011-11-01T15:02:00.000-04:00

Readings: Mal 14-2:2; 1 Thess 2:7-13; Mt 23:1-12

When I was giving lots of talks to groups, both Catholic and ecumenical, one of the questions I was most frequently asked was: "Why are priests called ‘father’ when there is a clear prohibition against it in Jesus’ teaching?" The short answer is that it just became a custom at a later period of history when a local leader was often called a father. The longer answer is to explain why this passage is in the gospel in the first place. To explain that will take us far deeper into history.

We must understand the early history of both Christianity and Rabbinical Judaism to get at that. Throughout the first century Jews were disturbed about the presence of the Romans in control of their country. The most radical group of Jews were the Zealots. They wanted to throw the Romans out altogether. By about mid-century they had gained sway over the majority of the Jewish population in Jerusalem. They wanted all the various Jewish groups to be on their side. But the Christians, who at that time were still considered a variety of Judaism, refused to revolt and fight against the Romans because the Christians were basically pacifists. As a result around the year 66 the Zealots expelled the Christians from Jerusalem, and they fled to the city of Pella. That began a feeling of deep animosity between the Christians and the Jews.

As things eventually turned out, the Zealots did rise up against the Romans, but they didn’t have a chance. The Roman army overwhelmed them. In the year 70AD the Romans captured the city of Jerusalem and executed all the leading Zealots. They destroyed the Jerusalem Temple and killed most of the priests. Out of the ruins of this tragedy one Pharisee, Yohanan ben Zachaii, asked the Roman generals if he could go to the small town of Yavneh, west of Jerusalem and found an academy there; he promised it would be entirely peaceful. The Romans gave him permission. And so began the reconstruction of Judaism under the leaders, who called themselves Rabbis or teachers. They worked hard to rebuild a Jewish identity and often called themselves children of their father, Abraham. This grew into what is traditionally called Rabbinical Judaism.

But the old hostility still lingered between the Jews and the Christians. They didn’t trust each other. That distrust gets written into Christian writings, mainly the later gospels of Matthew and John, and also into Jewish documents. The gospel writers put that distrust into their stories about Jesus. What they were trying to do is to make Jesus comment on a historical situation that actually occurred fifty years after the time Jesus lived. We need to know that about the gospels.

So when Jesus says, "do not be called rabbi," this is actually referring to the Christian view of the rabbis fifty years after Jesus lived. And when he says, "Call no one your father," it is actually a criticism of the rabbis who called Abraham their father. Here’s the key: this is meant to refer to that specific historical situation in the first century and not for all time.

Now the problem with all this process of critique is that it makes the New Testament very difficult for ordinary believers to understand and interpret. And there’s no two ways about it—this is one of the most serious pastoral issues of our day. And there’s no quick and easy way to fix it. But at least you can know why there is a ban on calling any human being your father in the words of Jesus.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time

2011-10-26T09:27:00.001-04:00

Readings: Ex 22:20-26; 1 Thess 1:5-10; Mt 22:34-40

Way back in 1968 when I was doing my graduate studies in Rome at Sant Anselmo, it was an exclusively scholastic and intellectual atmosphere. I was deeply seeking to get involved in something pastoral. That’s not easy to find in a foreign country. Well, by a long and complicated series of events, I found myself as the assistant scoutmaster of the American Girl Scout troop in Rome. The girls were all children of military personnel, diplomats or international business managers. My task was to prepare the Girl Scouts to present a play at the end of the year for their parents on the site of Cicero’s villa in the Alban Hills. To do this I had to travel to the far north side of Rome to the American school one afternoon a week after their school let out and work with them for an hour. And so I found myself with twelve fifth to eighth grade girls trying to prepare a play. To get a play for them I adapted and wrote a version of the book of Ruth.(Still have it.) But getting the girls to practice the play was something else. I would take a couple of them, practice their parts, but when I wanted to take the next group....they were all gone. They were all outside playing, laughing and running in the schoolyard. I would go out and round up the next group. By the time I had got them back to the classroom, the first group had disappeared. And so it went, for weeks and months. Finally, I just gave up at one session and sat in a chair and hung my head down. After a while someone touched me. I looked up and there they all were, standing in a semi-circle around me. One of them said, "Is something wrong?" I answered, "Look! I’m supposed to prepare you for this play. But you won’t practice. You are always running outside, laughing, playing and yelling around. This play is going to be a disaster and I’ll be blamed for it." There was a pause and one of them said, "But when we are with you is the only time we ever get to have any fun during the week." I thought about it and said, "You know what: go play, have fun and I’ll take the blame for it."

Over the course of that year I got to know a number of those girls pretty well. Their world was so very different from the world I grew up in. Their family would move somewhere different in the world every two or three years. I asked one of them, "How do you make friends?" She responded, "We don’t even try anymore. It’s too hard to make a friend and then move in a year and never see them again." I thought to myself, "What a different world they live in." I struggled to understand it.

It’s not easy to understand the mindset of someone who sees the world so differently from you. And yet that’s what the book of Exodus in the first reading asks the Israelites to do. "You shall not molest an alien for you were once aliens yourselves in the land of Egypt." We should remember that the Israelites for whom this was written had no living memory of being slaves themselves. They were powerful individuals in their own land. Now they were told to see the world as a stranger does.

The same thing is true of all pastoral ministry. If you are going to serve someone well, you have to make a real effort to see the world as they do. And that’s not easy. It’s not just the angle of perspective you try to see, it’s also all the emotions that flow from it, the personal relationships that result, and the hopes and goals in life the person has. That’s at the heart of good pastoral ministry.

By the way, at our last scheduled practice all the girls on their own showed up in the classroom. I walked them through all the parts of the play. Four days later they absolutely aced the performance at Cicero’s villa. They aced the performance with one practice. Unbelievable!

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 29th Sunday of Ordinary Time

2011-10-18T06:09:00.002-04:00

I had a request to continue posting Fr. Matthias' homilies...so I am honoring that request. Enjoy and God bless your journey!

Readings: Is 45:1-6; 1 Thess 1:1-5; Mt. 22:15-21

Next month we will celebrate the feast of Thanksgiving, one of the most beloved of our American holidays. This day has a diverse history of sources. The most common one takes it back to the Puritans in 1621 and their celebrating their first harvest in their new land. But all the European settlers in America brought some kind of feast celebrating the end of the fall harvest season. Scholars today dispute whether the first thanksgiving feast on American soil took place in Massachusetts, or Virginia or even Florida (with the Spanish explorers).

Religiously, thanksgiving goes back a lot farther in time. The oldest materials in the Old Testament, from the book of Psalms, shows that praise and thanksgiving were the two dominant responses of the ancient Israelites to their God, Jahweh. That was quite unique among all the religions around them. In those other religions people feared their gods, appeased their gods, and then made requests to their gods. Seldom do we find any mention of praise and thanksgiving. But it runs through the whole Psalter of the Old Testament. There were sacrifices of thanksgiving offered to the Lord God, and these were accompanied by people praying the psalms of thanksgiving while a priest was doing the sacrifice. Here’s an example of that: "I praise you, Lord, because you have saved me....You have changed my sadness into a joyful dance...you have taken away my sorrow and surrounded me with joy...Lord, you are my God; I will give you thanks forever." (Ps. 30)

Those same attitudes of praise and thanksgiving carried over into the early Christian communities. All of their literature is characterized by them. I’ve always been impressed by the passage of today’s second reading from Paul’s first letter to the Thessalonians, which is probably the oldest Christian document we possess. I still remember the first time I read it as a novice at St. Meinrad. As novices, we were encouraged to read the Bible, especially the New Testament, during our novitiate year. When I first read those lines, "We give thanks to God always for all of you, remembering you in our prayers..." I just sat there in stunned silence for a while. Wow! I thought. Thanking God for the people who are and were part of my life. I realized how easy it is to take them all for granted. I just started right there to pray for my mother and my father, my two sisters, my teachers in high school and so on. I realized for the first time that to thank God for these people IS to pray.

That same attitude of thanksgiving carried on in the whole Christian Church. They called their basic worship service Eucharistia, the Thanksgiving. What we call the mass—they called Eucharistia, the Thanksgiving. What we are doing here today is one big act of giving thanks to God.

It would be good for all of us to call that to mind explicitly and often.

Thanksgiving is, indeed, one of the basic characteristics of Christian spirituality and life. Sometimes it can be very hard to be thankful for our lives. There can be so much illness and such difficult settings in a person’s life that it’s hard for people to be thankful. And that’s understandable. But that’s all the more reason to participate in the Eucharist. There people can join a general setting of thanksgiving and participate in a group setting, when they find it very hard to be thankful on an average day. So we are performing here today a group act of thanksgiving, not just for ourselves but for all the people we know who find it hard to give thanks themselves. Let’s take a moment now and remember them in our hearts.

Blessings

2011-10-04T05:35:00.003-04:00

Thank you for taking time to read this blog over the years. My energy for blogging is depleted for now. I'll no longer post entries. I'll post a few pictures every now and then. I won't delete this site. Who knows what may happen in the future!

Let's continue to give God the glory and pray for one another.

Blessings,
Sr. Nicolette

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 27th Sunday of Ordinary Time

2011-10-02T20:10:00.001-04:00

Readings: Is 5:1-7; Phil 4:6-9; Mt 21:33-43

Sometimes the Apostle Paul seems so idealistic, it’s unreal. I have a pretty good idea how people today would react after hearing the second reading: "Have no anxiety at all." I think most would respond, "Maybe you can say that, but I can’t. I have too many responsibilities that are hanging over my head all the time." People have families to feed, children to raise and educate, debts to pay, aging parents to look after. The list goes on and on. "Have no anxiety at all? You have to be kidding."

But maybe we are looking at Paul’s words from the wrong perspective. Maybe he’s not talking about the daily pressures and cares of life. Paul knew very well that we will all have to bear our share of the cross. For many people those daily anxieties are part of the cross that it is theirs to bear. Maybe Paul was talking about our basic relationship to God. In other words he was saying: "Have no anxiety about this: the God of Jesus Christ cares for you. If you remember that, and bring that to mind often, then you will have a basic peace of heart." We should remember that Paul is writing to people who were a part of a very religiously diverse Greco-Roman culture. There were many, many religions and thousands of gods in the Roman Empire at that time. People worried about offending a god, maybe a god from some religion they didn’t even know about. Paul is also writing to people who are only recently Christian, so they may very well have carried some of their old religious attitudes with them. Paul wants to reassure them. In the Christian faith there is only one God and that God cares deeply for them. I am always moved by the words of the Fourth Eucharistic Prayer for Various Occasions: "By his words and actions Jesus proclaimed to the world that you care for us...." That says so very much about our Catholic Christian faith.

So the issue that is placed before us today is: what is our basic attitude toward our relationship with God. That’s a weighty issue, to be sure. In the last fifty years the Catholic Church has gone through a monumental shift in this regard. In the Counter-Reformation Church over the four hundred years before Vatican II, the general image of God was not of a caring God. God wasn’t angry or punishing, but he was sternly just. And he kept close tabs on each one of us. He was always watching over our shoulder and keeping his little notebook to mark a good grade or a demerit for every action we did. Just like the sister used to do in the grade school classroom. I recall one time when I was riding home on my bicycle and I came to a point where I could cut off a lot of my trip by cutting down an alley and then through a man’s private driveway. I knew I shouldn’t do it, but I wanted to get home quickly. I stood there for a long time and I swear I could see God with his little notebook and pen in hand ready to make a good or bad mark against me. (I honestly don’t remember what I did in the end.) But that was a common view of God before Vatican II.

The Second Vatican Council began to change that image of God for me and for lots of other Catholics. My classes in theology, especially in Scripture, really made me think and reassess my views. One passage that had a profound effect on me was from the prophet Hosea: "When Israel was a child, I loved him. ... It was I who taught Ephraim to walk. ...I led them with cords of human kindness, with hands of love." (11:1-4) Slowly my image of God shifted from the one with the notebook and pen to that of a parent coaxing a child to walk, holding hands on either side to catch the child if it falls. My image of God became one of an invisible power who wants us to discover our abilities and share them for the good of others. So Paul’s exhortation to "have no anxiety" is a good reminder for all of us to examine our own image of the basic relationship between God and ourselves.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 26th Sunday of Ordinary Time

2011-09-25T19:03:00.002-04:00

Readings: Ez 18:25-28; Phil 2:1-11; Mt 21:28-32

Last Monday morning I was watching the news on TV and there was a guest being interviewed; he was a marriage counselor. Some of his observations perked up my ears. He said that, on average, when a couple comes to see him for the first time they have been having problems in their marriage for six years. And in more than half the cases they are not really coming for marriage counseling; they are coming for pre-divorce counseling. He was asked what were some of the more difficult issues that people have to face. One of the first ones he mentioned was "forgiveness." He said, "Most people don’t know what it is." They either underestimate it or overestimate it. They underestimate it by thinking that it’s not really important. They overestimate it by making it into something that is almost humanly unreachable. Wow! I thought; many people don’t know what forgiveness is. That’s a crucial issue not only in religion but also in basic human relationships.

I know what he was talking about. Having been a spiritual director for over forty years, I’ve seen the same problem in lots of people—seminarians, sisters, priests and lay people. The biggest problem is that they overestimate forgiveness and make it into something that is almost humanly unreachable. And then they criticize and blame themselves because they can’t reach it. They think that forgiveness is to wipe the slate clean. The offense one suffered isn’t remembered anymore. All animosity is set aside and it’s like we are good friends again. Nonsense! In a human perspective forgiveness means that we no longer seek any retaliation either from ourselves or in general. I used to give the seminarians this example. You’ve had a longstanding disagreement with another student. He has said some things that really made you mad and embarrassed. But now you are trying to forgive him and put it behind you. But you keep having occasional remembrances and then traces of the old anger flares up. Have you truly forgiven him? Well, ask yourself this: if you were walking alongside a river and you noticed that particular individual struggling to swim and crying for help. You also see that there is a life preserver right beside you, would you throw it to him? If you can say, "Yes, I would," even though you don’t like him, then you have forgiven him. If you say to yourself, "No, let the him die," then you haven’t.

One of the problems is that people think they have to completely erase any bad thoughts from their memory, so that the whole unpleasant event is never thought of again. That doesn’t happen with human beings. Unpleasant events leave psychological scars that remain all our lives, just as some physical events leave bodily scars that remain all our lives. I have a scar on my leg that I got from some roughhousing we were doing in the boy scout cabin when I was in grade school. It was an accident that was mostly my fault. But every time I see that scar it takes me back to that episode in my life. The same is true of our psyches. When we have been deeply hurt, we get psychological "scars" (so to speak) that will stay with us all our lives. Years later when some random association brings that to memory, we can begin to feel the anger and animosity all over again. But that’s not a sign that we haven’t forgiven the other person; it just tells us what our psychological history has been.

The first reading we heard today from the prophet Ezekiel is an account of divine forgiveness. And in divine forgiveness everything is wiped clean. God holds nothing against us. Later in Jesus Christ that divine forgiveness is going to make things better than they were before. Human forgiveness is like divine forgiveness, but it doesn’t measure up to it fully. That’s why it’s always good to remember the life preserver story; it gives us a solid point of reference for measuring human forgiveness.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time

2011-09-18T19:35:00.001-04:00

Readings: Is 55:6-9; Phil 1:20-27; Mt 20:1-16

There are some stories you hear or read about and remember all your life; they somehow always stay fresh. I have one of my own in mind right now. The story takes place in France in the 1890s and concerns a young man who was avidly studying to be a scientist at the University of Paris. He was lapping up every bit of knowledge he could get. One holiday season he boarded a train to go back to his family home for vacation. Looking for a compartment to sit in, he came upon one which was occupied only by an old man who was looking through some notes. The student went in and sat down; neither acknowledged the other. After some time the old man put his notes away and began to pray his rosary. This was too much for the student and he spoke up: "Surely you don’t believe in that superstition any more; science is showing that all such religious stuff is false." The old man looked at him quizzically and asked, "What is this science you are talking about?" And the student began to tell him about the rise of modern science, the experimental method, the use of mathematical calculations, and projections, and so on. The old man put his rosary away and listened intently. As the train began to slow down, the old man said, "This is my stop coming. If I give you my card, will you write to me more about this ‘science’ you speak of. " The student said he would gladly. He slipped the old man’s card into his pocket and jumped up to help the old man get his bag from the upper rack. He assisted him to the door and off the train. The old man thanked him and told him to remember to write him. The student went back very satisfied to his seat. After the train had left the station, he pulled out the old man’s card to see who he would be writing to. It said simply: Louis Pasteur, President of the French Academy of Science.

The young student was so sure he had everything in hand; he knew exactly where everything was going. The world was operating the way it should be. And then he met the old man. That ‘s a lot like the disgruntled workers in today’s gospel passage. They were pretty sure they had figured out that they would get a nice bonus. And then they were caught up short by the owner’s justice and generosity at the same time.

These are really stories about all of us and the common human temptation of thinking that we have got it all figured out. We like to do that so often with things religious. We want to think that we have a pretty good bead on God’s intentions. That’s why we surely don’t like to hear the first reading from Isaiah: "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord." This has to be pretty disconcerting for anyone who takes religion as a part of daily life. You have to wonder how you can ever move forward.

Maybe it’s not about moving forward. There is a strain of Jewish spirituality that begins and ends with those famous words from the book of Job: "The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord." (1:21) In this spirituality you can’t know ever what God’s plans are, so there’s no use trying. All one can do is praise God’s name.

I think that was the attitude of Louis Pasteur. Certainly he was one of the greatest medical scientists of modern times—a pioneer in so many medical breakthroughs. No one was a stricter scientist than he was. He believed fully in science. And yet he left explicit instructions that he was to be buried with a rosary in his fingers. "The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord."

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 24th Sunday of Ordinary Time

2011-09-11T20:21:00.000-04:00

Readings: Sir 27:30-28:7; Rom 14:7-9; Mt 18:21-35

The themes of the first reading and the gospel are pretty clearly anger and forgiveness. And I don’t suppose we can ever reflect too much on those. The best book I ever read on anger and forgiveness is David Mace’s Love and Anger in Marriage (1982). It hooked me from the start: "The Blue Dolphin Restaurant in San Leandro, CA has been the scene of numerous memorable gatherings, but none perhaps so quite unforgettable as the wedding reception that took place in mid-June. As the 300 guests chatted happily among themselves they suddenly grew silent when the newly weds began arguing in loud voices. Dismay turned to disbelief when the groom grabbed the wedding cake and shoved it in his bride’s face. By the time a police squad had pulled up, guests were breaking chairs and smashing mirrors. It took half an hour for more than 30 police to get the crowd under control. By that time the newlyweds had left on their honeymoon." (P. 9) Mace, a family psychologist, then gives some of the basic themes he will develop in the book. The very first one stands out: "The state of marriage generates in normal people more anger than they are likely to experience in any other type of relationship in which they find themselves." (Chalk one up for celibacy.)

We need to do some reflection on anger because it has become a social problem on the national level. Perhaps it’s better to say anger, which has progressed to rage, is a national social problem. We read so often of incidents of road rage, parking lot rage, check-out line rage; it takes so little to set some people off, to send them into furious, unthinking behavior.

We, in religious communities, have our problems with anger as well. But we are usually down at the other end of the spectrum; our problem is with repressed anger. There was for so long a common teaching in the Catholic Church that all anger was sinful. So angry feelings, even legitimate angry feelings, got pushed under the skin and were never expressed. There they festered for years and years. I saw an example of that in my own community. About twenty years ago we had a workshop on community building. The workshop had the exact opposite result from what was originally intended. It didn’t build community; it showed what divided the community. The monks were to write in, anonymously, what bothered them about the monastic community. The results of this poll were made known to everyone. I was completely surprised to find out how many monks were still angry, some bitterly angry, over something that had happened thirty or forty years ago. That festering anger didn’t contribute anything positive to their monastic life.

We need to do a serious re-assessment of anger in Catholic spirituality. And we need to begin with a recognition that the feeling of anger is not bad or sinful in itself. Anger is one of our natural emotions, is part of our whole psychological make-up, is created by God and is therefore good in itself. Anger serves a very useful purpose in our lives. Anger alerts us to a danger that threatens us in some way. But that should be the lead-in to explore more carefully the nature of the danger. Is it real or mistaken? Is it a genuine threat of something else altogether? We don’t get much emotional education anywhere in our culture, and so we aren’t used to exploring our emotions and testing their truthfulness. We just let it race on toward guilt or rage.

We should appreciate anger. It serves a purpose in our lives. But we have to learn how to make a good and proper use of it.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 23rd Sunday of Ordinary Time

2011-09-05T14:25:00.002-04:00

Readings: Ez 33:7-9; Rom 13:8-10; Mt 18:15-20

Years ago there was a phrase that was often used in the diagnosis of alcoholism, "an elephant on the sofa." It referred to the strange scene of a family living room, which had an elephant lying on the sofa. The children would play around it each day, and bounce balls off of it, and the mother would regularly dust off the elephant and keep it clean. But nobody ever asked the obvious question: why in the world is there an elephant on our sofa in the living room? The elephant, of course, stands for the father of the family who is an alcoholic and is frequently passed out on the sofa. This little story dramatizes how hard it is for people to speak up about something that is harmful and painful and obviously known, but which some people don’t want to hear about or face up to. And that extends to many, many things beyond the diagnosis of alcoholism.

We, as members of religious communities should know all about the difficulties of standing up and saying something that some people will not like to hear. One incident stands out especially in my memory. One time in our community at St. Meinrad there was some issue (I don’t remember what the issue was; I just remember the dynamics of how it was handled). But the community was going to have to make a decision about it and there were lots of differing viewpoints, many directly opposed to other viewpoints. The Abbot knew this and decided to have an open session of the community. He appointed one of the monks to lead the meeting and neither he nor the prior would be present, so people could speak freely. We all gathered in one of the large classrooms for the meeting. The appointed leader got up and laid out the situation and the decision which needed to be made. Then he opened the floor for comments. He stood looking around the room for several minutes. No one raised their hand. Finally he said, "Well, we might as well close the meeting. Let’s all go over to the coffee room, where we can sit in our own little groups and talk about the issue." Which is precisely what we did.

It is not easy to speak up and say something that some others don’t want to hear or face up to. And yet that’s one of the main messages in today’s readings from Scripture. The passage from the prophet Ezekiel says, "I appointed you to be my spokesman. If you don’t deliver my message, you will be as responsible as the wrongdoer." And in the gospel passage Jesus says, "If your brother or sister sins against you, you need to go and confront them." You need to speak up and let them know what they are doing wrong. Anyone who finds themselves in a position of leadership knows the weight and the difficulty of this task. When I was in administrative positions in the seminary, I felt the weight of this often, and it’s not easy. You have to tell people things they don’t want to hear and you are never sure how they are going to react—angrily, remorsefully or denying everything and calling you a liar or worse.

The real issue here is, of course, saying something to someone we care about that their behavior is unhealthy or even dangerous to themselves or others. "You are drinking too much." "Your actions are becoming abusive to your wife, to your husband, to your children." "You need to spend more time and effort looking for a job." These things are never easy to say. But Jesus tells us that it’s the Christian thing to do. And even though the other person may ignore or even blame you, it’s still the right thing to do. All of us face times like this. Let’s use the rest of this mass to pray that we may have the courage to say the right thing at the right time.

Jesus' September Message

2011-09-01T10:27:00.005-04:00

Each month, Anne, a lay apostle, receives a message from Jesus. This is the message for September. To read more about the locutions Anne receives from Jesus and His Blessed Mother click on this link: Direction For Our Times.

Dear apostles, it is with joy that I speak with you today. When I contemplate your fidelity to My plan for mercy, I feel joy. When I contemplate your fidelity to holiness, I feel joy. Do not pause in your commitment to becoming holier. This calm movement into the Spirit of gentleness and kindness should help you to view others with compassion, yes, but also yourself. Do you view yourself with compassion? Do you offer kindness and mercy toward yourself when you contemplate your condition? My friends, My dearest friends, be careful to view yourself as I view you. Be careful not to view yourself in harsh light that seeks to condemn. If you are tempted against mercy for yourself, then truly, you are tempted against truth. Because it is only with mercy and love that I greet your present condition and your attempts to advance in holiness. I am love. I could hardly ask you to love others and then withhold love from you. That would be a flawed plan, destined to fail. My plan is perfect. I give you a receptive heart, you receive My love in abundance, and then stand for Heaven to be a well on earth which both stores and distributes love. Beloved apostle, search your heart today. If you do not find mercy and compassion for yourself in your heart, come to Me at once and ask Me to give these things to you. My plan for you and for the world will not advance as quickly as necessary if you do not accept your present condition and understand My perfect love for you. Your potential for holiness has not yet been fully achieved, of course, and I want you to advance. And I ask that you do so in confidence, joy and hope. Rejoice. I am with you.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 22nd Sunday of Ordinary Time

2011-08-28T19:02:00.000-04:00

Readings: Jer 20:7-9; Rom 12:1-2; Mt 16:21-27

The first reading we heard today from the prophet Jeremiah is quite remarkable. I want you to focus on some of these lines. "You duped me, Lord, and I let myself be duped." He is complaining, " You tricked me, God, and I let myself be deceived." "All day long I am an object of laughter." He’s saying, "I thought that as your prophet I would bring an important and serious message to the people, but all they do is laugh at me." "I said to myself, that I will speak in His name no more." Remarkably that means, "I’m done with you, God; I’ll have nothing more to do with you."

This passage occurs in a section of the prophet Jeremiah’s book that biblical scholars call "The Confessions of Jeremiah." There’s nothing else like it in any other section of the bible, except maybe some of St. Paul’s letters. It gives us a glimpse into the inner feelings of Jeremiah as a prophet. We discover that his inner life is pretty turbulent; it’s not all easy-going. Faith in God goes through some very rough times indeed. These include moments when Jeremiah decides to give up on God for good. In other words, he’s "had it" with religion.

I think these passages should give us a much broader view of what a life of faith includes. There are going to be those dark times when it seems like faith has deceived us, God has let us down. We have prayed and prayed, but the good we sought did not happen. The result is that we are ready to give up on religion. We should realize that there will likely be times like that for many of us. As a priest through the years I have listened to lots of stories of people who have prayed and prayed for a child to be healed, for an illness to be cured, for a personal hatred to be resolved. Oftentimes the people who have prayed so hard feel completely discouraged. They are a lot like Jeremiah. They too say, "You tricked me, Lord. I’m not going to have anything more to do with you. I’ve had it."

How does Jeremiah get out of this negative state of mind. Here’s the really remarkable part of this passage: "But then it (the Word of God) becomes like fire burning in my heart, imprisoned in my bones; I grow weary of holding it in, I cannot endure it." So Jeremiah himself really doesn’t do anything to get himself out of it. He begins to be overcome with these feelings from within himself. He can’t let go of God in spite of himself. And so he goes on believing in God and serving as God’s prophet even at this terrible and empty low point in his life.

The real issue at the bottom of all this is anger at God, not an easy topic to bring up. People often have it in those low points in their life, but it also usually evokes some feelings of guilt and fear. It’s like you are angry at God, but you feel guilty for being that way. That’s why we should look carefully at Jeremiah’s experience and words. He is angry, but he doesn’t feel any guilt about it. In one of my favorite articles entitled, "God damn God: Expressing Anger in Prayer," Sr. Sheila Carney writes that the bible has an awful lot of anger being expressed, including anger at God. She gives lots of examples, especially from the Book of Psalms. Today’s Jeremiah reading fits right in with that. It’s an issue that, as I said before, all of us will probably have to face at some time. So it might be worth our while to spend a little time with Jeremiah this weekend.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 21st Sunday of Ordinary Time

2011-08-21T19:48:00.002-04:00

Readings: Is 22:19-23; Rm 11:33-36; Mt 16:13-20

Barbara Reid, a Dominican sister and professor of the New Testament at the Catholic Theological Union in Chicago, writes a weekly homily column for America magazine. She has a very interesting commentary on today’s gospel passage. She first notes the cultural differences between Jesus’ times and our times. In our day there are constant calls to "know yourself," find out "who you really are," and get in touch with the "real you." But the preferred method of our culture is to go deep within yourself away from any outside influences, and grab a hold of that core of who you are. That method is preferred by almost all of our self-help gurus, and there are a lot of them. Just check the "Self-Help" or "Self-Improvement" section of any bookstore. But Sr. Barbara notes that in Jesus’ time the method of discovering yourself differed significantly. In Jesus’ day people discovered who they were by asking members of the groups they were embedded in. They asked family members, and friends and people they worked with. Who they were came from how people saw them. We could say that from this perspective their actions showed who they were and what values they pursued.

Following Sr. Barbara’s analysis, we could say that Jesus in his human nature was honestly asking his disciples how people evaluated his ministry of proclaiming the Kingdom of God and how they themselves evaluated it and him. He was following the regular process that people in his day would have used.

We today could learn something from the process used in Jesus’ day. When I was working in the administration and faculty of the School of Theology at St. Meinrad, I never ceased to be amazed at how many students had absolutely no idea how other people saw them, or perhaps it’s more accurate to say that they had a very false impression of how other people saw them. They came to this false impression by going within themselves, asking who they were, and then automatically transferring those self-views to what they thought other people thought of them. And most of the time they were so wrong. And it didn’t make any different if they were introverts or extroverts. The introverts thought that people saw them as quiet, balanced, keep-to-themselves guys; but, in fact, oftentimes others saw them as mute, insecure loners. The extroverts thought that others saw them as talkative, friendly, life-of-the party types; but, in fact, oftentimes other people saw them as loud, intrusive, braggarts. In spiritual direction it was always a challenge to get students first to see, and then to accept how other people saw them and try to do something about it.

Jesus used both methods to "find himself." The gospels tell us that he spent time alone in personal prayer and reflection. In that personal depth he came to understand and accept that the God of Israel was his "abba," his Father. And he taught his disciples to understand and accept the very same thing. They were to pray to the God of Israel as "Our Father." Besides this introspective method Jesus also asked his trusted disciples questions about how they saw him. Peter answered directly: "You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God."

Like Jesus we also need to use a combination of both methods to find our own personal religious selves. The discovery of a religious sense of self is a life-long process. We are going to be at this search our whole lives. Let’s hope and pray that we all attend to it very well.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 20th Sunday of Ordinary Time

2011-08-14T16:25:00.002-04:00

Readings: Is 56:1-7; Rm 11:13-32; Mt 15:21-28

The three readings today all bear upon one of the main religious issues that runs through the whole of the Old and the New Testaments: namely, the religious status of those peoples outside the People of Israel. All three of our readings take a favorable and positive attitude toward those peoples. Paul, being the strongest, says that God has extended mercy to all peoples, not just the Jews. God’s mercy knows no bounds. Yet we know from sources in and outside the scriptures that there were a lot of dissenting opinions, including those that rejected any possible salvation for gentiles. Paul’s views ultimately determined the main Christian viewpoint and the publication of the Talmud around the year 500AD became the major Jewish approach. The Talmud states that those people who followed the seven laws given to Noah (Genesis 9) would be favorable and acceptable to God.

Of course, we know that Christianity often strayed significantly from Paul’s perspective in later centuries, even at times becoming quite exclusivist about the possibility of salvation for anyone outside the Catholic Church. Many of us lived in a time like that before the Second Vatican Council. When I was growing up, it was the common Catholic opinion that it was exceedingly difficult for anyone outside the Catholic Church to be acceptable and favorable to God. Thank God, the Second Vatican Council brought us back to St. Paul’s viewpoint about the abundant mercy of God extended to all people. The Council changed the views of Catholics toward other Christians, toward people of other religions, and even toward those who are non-believers. The Council called Catholics to a tolerance and appreciation of all peoples and all faiths.

Alas, we are living now in times in this country of ours where the public mood may seriously erode those views. The public discussion in government often sets the tone for the mood and thinking in the country as a whole. Sadly, that mood in government is one of total partisanship. There is no thought of compromise or tolerance in the partisanship mood. To read the analyses of political writers about Washington’s recent failure to come to a workable resolution to the budget and debt crisis makes for depressing reading indeed. There is no mood of compromise; it’s "all us or all them." No wonder the whole world is losing confidence in the United States.

But I’m actually even more concerned about that "no compromise or tolerance" mood drifting into the Catholic Church. That’s the kind of mood that makes anyone who is different in belief into an automatic enemy. That’s very dangerous for the future of ecumenical and interfaith attitudes. Signs of that polarizing attitude are already present in the Church, especially in some of our younger priests. One detects that some of them have little aptitude for any ecumenical or interfaith relationships. From there it’s only a short step to an "all us or all them" attitude.

It’s part of our Catholic Christian responsibility to make sure that doesn’t happen. What happened at and after Vatican II in the development of real tolerance and appreciation between faiths was a pure gift of God. Centuries had shown that we certainly couldn’t get there on our own. It’s a gift of God that needs to be accepted, nurtured and developed. That’s part of our Catholic Christian challenge in these partisan cultural times.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 19th Sunday of Ordinary Time

2011-08-08T06:30:00.001-04:00

Readings: 1 Kgs 19:9-13; Rom 9:1-5; Mt 14:22-33

Our opening reading this morning, from the first Book of Kings, presents us with one of the most famous and controversial theophanies (or appearances of God) in the entire Old Testament. Famous, because it has been commented upon by so many Jewish and Catholic theologians and spiritual writers through the centuries. Controversial because, while it’s fairly clear what God does not appear in (a heavy wind, an earthquake or fire), there is no consensus among scholars about what God does appear in. Let me explain.

The text says, "After the fire, there was a ...... what?" The three Hebrew words that appear next can be translated in any number of different ways. The translation we heard today says "After the fire, there was a tiny whispering sound," which is probably one of the least preferred translations by the majority of theologians and spiritual writers. It’s least preferred because it’s simply too definite. The reader can understand or imagine exactly what it is that God appears in----a tiny whispering sound." No element of paradox is contained in that phrase, and paradox is what needs to be there. The translation that most Jewish scholars and spiritual writers would prefer is: "After the fire, there was the sound of silence," which, by the way, gives a whole new dimension to that old Simon and Garfunkel song. The sound of silence is surely a paradox. The majority of commentators think the text was deliberately left ambiguous by the scriptural writer to accent the impossibility of ever having an accurate image of God. The Mysteriousness of God must always be remembered.

I think most of us would agree that we generally would prefer to have things clearcut, that something is what it says it is. We all know well the frustration of walking away from a conversation, realizing that we really aren’t sure what the other person said or meant. And yet, so many writers and artists through the ages have been trying to get people to see "that’s just the way it is sometimes." Many times things are not clear cut, and eventually one has to accept that and move on. And, in a way, it’s always that way with God. The Mysteriousness must always be remembered.

Similar to that is another phenomenon, the changing perspective of accepted meanings. Again, let me explain. We can become so accustomed to meanings having a specific quality to them; we just assume that it means one thing, although it may not. Recently, I have been reading Maria Boulding’s last book, Gateway to Resurrection; it was only published after her death in 2009. She was a nun of Stanbrooke Abbey in England. For many years she was one of the most well-known and respected writers on Benedictine subjects in the world. In her last two years she had to deal with a case of terminal cancer. She wrote this book during that period. In one place she comments on how her struggle with cancer has made her see so many things in a new way, particularly some of her favorite passages in the bible. One she particularly liked was Paul’s description in 2 Cor. 12:7-10 about being given a "thorn in the flesh," and how he prayed heartily to be delivered from it. The only response he received was, "My grace will be sufficient for you." She had always taken "sufficient" to mean "an abundance of." But in her illness it seemed instead to mean "there will be just enough for you to get through." that’s quite a different slant.

These two examples show us the different ways that passages in scripture might be understood. We should always be open to be surprised by the scriptures.

Jesus' August Message

2011-08-01T20:37:00.002-04:00

Each month, Anne, a lay apostle, receives a message from Jesus. This is the message for July. To read more about the locutions Anne receives from Jesus and His Blessed Mother click on this link: Direction For Our Times.

Dear apostles, you are friends of My heart. As such, please be patient with Me as I bring you along in holiness. Would you like to be holier? Perhaps you identify My teachings as good but you feel frustrated because you see that you fall short on some days. This is when you must be truly patient and trust that I am bringing you along as quickly as is needed. Remember that you may see very little progress on some days, but your decision to remain with Me in the process of becoming holier creates a disposition for heaven that keeps the light where it should be, that is, on the need to examine yourself for failure instead of examining others. How easy it is to see the flaws of another. How much more difficult it is to identify which pain in you creates the disposition for repeating a mistake, perhaps again and again. Yes, patience is necessary, both with oneself and with others. I, Jesus, am patient with you. And so you must be patient with yourself. And then you must be patient with others. Do not be distracted by events around you. Do not be drawn into thinking that many events or big events mean that you can take your eyes off of the process of becoming holier. No, dear apostles. I speak gravely when I say to you that you must concentrate seriously on becoming holier because your holiness and your commitment to holiness is a crucial part of My plan to bring comfort to others. Allow Me to see to the world. If you see daily to the condition of your soul and if you love others then you will have fulfilled My plan for you. Rejoice. You are committed to Me and I am eternally committed to you.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 18th Sunday of Ordinary Time

2011-07-31T15:01:00.002-04:00

Readings: Is 55:1-3; Rm 8:35-39; Mt 14:13-21

One of the most welcome transitions that I lived through in my lifetime (and many of you did too) was the change in the general tenor of the Catholic Church. It moved from a church centered on guilt and judgment to a church centered on love and service. That has been a very welcome transition flowing from the Second Vatican council. How did the Church ever get into that situation of emphasizing guilt and judgment? Especially when there are such powerful expressions of God’s love for us in so many scriptural passages. Today’s second reading, from Paul’s Letter to the Romans, serves as a marvelous example: "I am convinced that neither death, nor life, neither angels, nor principalities.....nor any other creature will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." That’s a powerful affirmation of the primacy of God’s love for us.

How did we ever get to that Counter-Reformation spirituality centered on guilt, judgment and punishment? There are historical reasons and in hindsight they appear quite clearly. It’s not so easy to see them when one is living forward through them. Some years ago I gave a workshop on the Counter-Reformation to an adult group at Our Lady of the Greenwood parish. To sum up that distinctive Counter-Reform spirituality I read to them a list of themes that one historian had discovered running through the sermons of parish priests, religious order priests and priests who gave parish missions. Here are some of those themes that were preached on again and again: even venial sins are a grave offence against God; Marriage is a dangerous situation; the body is to be feared; any sexual fault is mortal sin; the ‘ascetic model’ is the only way to salvation; all amusement and pleasure are to be rejected; the confessor is to be prosecutor and judge; one bad confession negated all preceding ones. Is it any wonder that scrupulosity and guilt became rife in the Catholic Church. In that parish workshop when we took a break, I was amazed at the number of people who came up to me and said that they had believed every one of those things when they were growing up. Without doubt the Second Vatican Council was a great gift of God to the Church.

There exists a powerful connection between love and service in the Vatican II vision of Christian faith as well as in the vision of the early Christian Church. This love of God for us not only endears us to God and God to us, but it also impels us toward the service of others, to assist people and help them in myriad ways. I don’t think that connection was always appreciated in those first heady years after Vatican II when people were breaking free from guilt and punishment. There certainly were some who turned the late 1960s and early 1970s into the "feel good about yourself" years. They never quite got the connection between love and service.

But we need to get it and pursue it: to hold deeply in our hearts that God loves us, that God strongly desires us to enter into the Divine Presence and that this obliges us to reach out in service to one another. Indeed, we are to seek out the neediest among us and do what we can to help them. That’s why the many people in your community who help each week in food pantries are doing some of the finest Christian work in the whole community. Their service needs to flow from their own conviction of God’s love for them and for all people and that love impels them to serve. That’s the whole message of the teaching and life of Jesus.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 17th Sunday of Ordinary Time

2011-07-24T18:51:00.001-04:00

Readings: 1 Kgs 3:5-12; Rom 8:28-30; Mt 13:44-52

There appeared on a Bulletin Board in the Sisters’ monastery a very fascinating internet article about "Things that will disappear in our lifetime." Just listen to some of these and consider how much and for how long they have been fixtures in our daily lives. The Post Office. The check. The newspaper. The land line telephone. The book. Television. They are all losing money rapidly and have little chance of sustaining themselves in the long run. They are all being "done in" by the microchip revolution and the computer. There are many other things that will go along with these disappearances. As my sister, Nancy, who teaches sociology reminded me: with each one of them there will also disappear thousands of jobs. And as my mother, age 97 reminded me: the poor will get poorer. She said: people like me who can’t use a computer are just out of luck.

All of this reminds us—more than we would like to admit—how deep and broad are the cultural changes we are currently living through. Many of these changes can make us extremely uncomfortable. Because they mean the end of ways and habits that we had become familiar with and grown to like very much. I really like getting the newspaper each morning and reading it with my cup of coffee. Having my coffee with a hand-hold computer just isn’t the same thing. As I was reading this list to my sister over the phone, she was agreeing with them one by one and was showing where they were already beginning to happen. But when I got to the book and the television, she cried out: "Oh no! Not my book and my TV too." Such a time of deep cultural change can be a very hard time for some people.

Most modern Christians are probably not aware of it, but a very similar religious cultural transition was going on among the first two generations of Christians. All the early followers of Jesus were Jews and very deeply rooted in their Jewish religious culture. But in believing in the teachings of Jesus and especially in his death and resurrection, they had to confront a whole new set of convictions and practices. Some of these fit easily into their Jewish background and others did not. There were some very contentious debates among Christians in those first generations. There were certain Jewish practices that disappeared forever and others were significantly changed. In the year 100AD a Christian could easily have written an article entitled, "Things that will disappear in our lifetime."

The gospel passage we just heard speaks to that situation of cultural change, particularly the last line: "Every scribe who has been instructed in the kingdom of heaven is like the head of a household who brings from his storeroom both the old and the new." Jesus is telling his disciples that they are going to keep some things from their Jewish background and others are going to be replaced by new beliefs and practices. The wisdom, of course, is knowing exactly which to keep and which to replace. There are no exact guidelines for that. We need to pray for the help of God’s Spirit. And pray hard!

The story of Solomon in the first reading provides us a valuable insight about dealing with changing times. Solomon doesn’t look to himself, but to how he can help others. The danger, when we deal with times of transition, is to look too much to ourselves, to what we have to change and don’t want to. The more we look to helping others, the more we will be helping ourselves to cope with change. It’s a lesson we are all going to have to learn.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 15th Sunday of Ordinary Time

2011-07-10T20:05:00.001-04:00

Readings: Is 55:10-11; Rm 8:18-23: Mt 13; 1-9

One of my past community members at St. Meinrad that I will always remember was Br. Rene Bouillon. Br. Rene was a large, hefty man with a sometimes jovial, sometimes gruff personality. He was for many years the manager of the Abbey laundry. He developed the habit of addressing his fellow monks by their laundry number. "Hello, Br. Rene; hello, 204." He was a quite intelligent man who had a keen interest in his Belgian heritage. I remember his intense joy on sifting through the possessions of one of his deceased relatives over in the little town of Leopold. He discovered a traditional wooden shoe, a sabot, that had been made in Belgium. He was joyous for weeks. But what I remember most are the last years of his life. He was scheduled to have surgery for a hernia and the doctor ordered an X-ray to make sure there were no complicating factors. But the X-ray showed a spot on one of his lungs. So soon after the hernia surgery, there was another surgery to remove the spot. It was cancerous. There followed two years of chemotherapy, radiation and intense pain before he finally succumbed to the disease. But one time during those last two years I came out of my monastery room and I met Br. Rene laboriously and painfully making his way down the hall. He just looked at me with a face filled with sadness and said, "What did I ever do to deserve this?" So I invited him into my room to talk about it. He came to me often until he died.

It seems to me that same feeling (what did I ever do to deserve this) is in the background of all three readings we heard this morning. And the blunt response is: "You simply have to trust in God’s plan, God’s will. There’s nothing you can do about it." The readings, of course, put it much more delicately than that. Isaiah says, "The word of God goes forth and accomplishes all it seeks." Paul writes: "all creation is groaning in labor pains." And Jesus’ parable in the gospel passage is: the seed falls where it will. The blunt message is the same in all of them: "You simply have to trust in God’s plan, God’s will. There’s nothing you can do about it and it’s NOT your fault."

That was what I had to explain to Br. Rene in his suffering and pain. I didn’t put it in such blunt terms. But at base it’s a hard message; there are no two ways about it. Especially when one begins to survey human history or even our present times and sees the many, many brutalities that people inflict on each other, particularly innocent victims. There isn’t any way you can avoid asking "why," why doesn’t God do something to intervene? Why doesn’t God answer my own heartfelt plea for help? Or Br. Rene’s question: "what did I ever do to deserve this?"

The Bible gives us two answers that clash. On the one hand, we are told to make our needs known to God. "Pray to your Heavenly Father." On the other hand we are told, "It’s all in God’s Will. God’s plan will surely work itself out. There’s nothing you can do about it." We are told to hold to both of them, even though we can’t see how they make sense together. That’s what faith is all about and it can be very, very hard.

It seems to me that the prayer that expresses all this best is the prayer for Anointing. "May the Lord in His love and mercy help you with the grace of the Holy Spirit. May the Lord who frees you from sin save you and raise you up." The prayer asks that we be strengthened in whatever difficulty we are facing. It then recognizes that God has already saved us and we ask for a future betterment, whether in this life or in the next. It’s a beautiful prayer. We will hear it often in just over a week.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 14th Sunday of Ordinary Time

2011-07-04T07:52:00.002-04:00

Readings: Zech 9:9-10; Rom 8:9-13; Mt 11:25-30

Way back in 1964, when I was in my first year of theology studies at St. Meinrad, I read a book that had a huge impact on my way of thinking----it was A Study of Hebrew Thought by Claude Tresmontant, a very noted Scripture scholar. (I doubt anyone here is going to rush out and read this book.) What struck me so forcefully was the way the book severely challenged some presumptions I had held for a long time. In the chapter on "Hebrew Anthropology" the author explained how the Hebrew mentality looked at the human being in an integrated wholistic way. There was no division into body and soul as two separate principles as Greek thought did. Rather the reference was always to the total person acting in a particular way. To exemplify his point Tresmontant referred specifically to the exact passage we heard this morning from Paul’s Letter to the Romans concerning being "in the flesh" and "in the spirit." From the Hebrew perspective these do not refer to our usual understandings of body and soul, but rather to different orientations of the whole human person.

That just blew away the meanings I had always assumed. To me "in the flesh" had always meant body, sex and everything associated with them. I had never imagined it could have been anything different. But the writer said that "in the flesh" refers to considering yourself more than any other person or issue. In other words, to be "in the flesh" means to act selfishly. To be "in the spirit" means to act with the needs of others in mind. It is similar to a point that Sr. Karen made in one of her retreat conferences last week when she cited a reference to two different kinds of power: unilateral and relational. Unilateral power is forcing others to do what I want them to do. Relational power is to be in dialogue with others and working with them toward a common goal. That’s to be "in the spirit." It took me quite a while to digest all that.

Years later I discovered a variation on all this in the Episcopalian theologian Urban Holme’s distinction between the hot and cold sins of the clergy (Spirituality for Ministry, pp. 42-57). Let me read you a portion of this chapter: "American religion is obsessed with the warm sins of the clergy such as illicit sex and gluttony. .... The sins that should concern us far more deeply are those that prevent the clergy from exercising their spiritual vocation. These cold sins truly violate the mission of the pastor to be an instrument of spiritual growth." (P. 43) He then goes on to enumerate and exemplify some of these cold sins: the desire for power—always wanting to be the one who controls every situation, insulation and evasion—the refusal to truly listen to other’s problems, abstraction—always speaking in general terms only and never in personal, apathy—not caring at all about other people’s lives, ecclesiastical dilettantism—being totally concerned with the trappings of religion like vestments, incense and stained glass windows. To one who is primarily concerned about any of these things St. Paul would say, "You are ‘in the flesh,’ acting primarily in a selfish manner."

While Urban Holmes is writing about differences in clergy behavior, the same truly applies to community. It is so easy to gossip about the hot, flashy failings of community members. But it’s the cold failings that are far more damaging to community life: the snubbing of other people, the refusal to be compassionate about another’s difficulties, wanting to control every situation insisting that our word be the last in any discussion. It is to these people that St. Paul would say, "You are in the flesh." And "If you live according to the flesh, you will die." Let’s heed these words today.

Jesus' July Message

2011-07-01T07:29:00.003-04:00

Each month, Anne, a lay apostle, receives a message from Jesus. This is the message for July. To read more about the locutions Anne receives from Jesus and His Blessed Mother click on this link: Direction For Our Times.

My dear apostles, do you see how I am working through you? Be alert to My presence in your day and, as a grace, I will give you a glimpse of what I am accomplishing. Look for little blessings going out to others. Look for flashes of consolation in suffering or calming of your heart when your heart feels anxious. You see, dear apostles, not only do I move through you to others, but I minister to you in a continuous way so that you are sustained. I want you to be peaceful. I want you to be calm. I want you to understand that if you say no to Me, there are others who will not be comforted and others who will not be blessed and instructed through you. You, My beloved apostles who remain firm in service, act as holy hands and hearts. Your holy hands and your holy hearts are used to gently tap others, into service, into healing and into love for Me and all of the Father’s children on earth. How earnestly I ask the Father for greater blessings for you. How earnestly I prompt you, through the Spirit, to continue on in service. I know that there are times when you need encouragement, so at this time, I will send you evidence of either your progress or of the effect of your willingness to serve on others. Look for this, dear apostles, and then you will know that I am with you and that I am using your presence on earth. When you see this, be at peace. Gird yourself in holiness and prepare for further service, not less service. You are important to Me and I count you as an asset in this time of change.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for Trinity Sunday

2011-06-19T15:16:00.002-04:00

Readings: Ex 34:4-9; 2 C or. 13:11-13; Jn 3:16-18

When I was teaching systematic theology courses in the seminary, the course on the Trinity was, without doubt, the most difficult to teach. All the systematics professors were agreed on that. The problem was that no matter how thoroughly and accurately a professor explained the theology of Trinity, you were lucky if one student in an entire class really understood what you taught. Most of them looked confused when you started and they looked even more confused when you finished. Teaching Trinity was one of those frustrating experiences that just had to be done to meet curriculum requirements. (The same holds true for priests preaching on Trinity Sunday. Practically no one likes to do it. At least I’ve never met one who did.)

As time went on, I began to try and place the Trinity in a larger context that included the whole search for a belief in the Mystery of God. That seemed to work much better. The key that opened up that approach to me was a comment by a particular theologian (I can’t remember who it was) who wrote that the Trinity in the New Testament was really a spirituality in search of a theology. In other words, the early Christians had three distinct experiences of meeting the divine (Father, Son in Jesus Christ and Holy Spirit). And they were convinced that each was a genuine experience of the one God. St. Augustine wrote a great big volume On the Trinity. It took him twenty years to complete. At the end of the book he tried to summarize the whole book in these words: "The Father is God! The Son is God! The Spirit is God! There is only one God!" For a lot of people today the Trinity is still a spirituality in search of a theology.

All that was summed up nicely in the passage we heard from Second Corinthians: "The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all!" That is, by the way, one of the earliest indications we have of this complex conviction of the early Christians about God. One of the most important things this teaches us is that God deals with us in a multitude of ways. If you recall last Sunday for the feast of Pentecost, I reflected that the Spirit’s bestowal of charisms on all the People of God shows us that God takes the initiative with us, giving us ideas and impulses to reach out and help each other. But that doesn’t exhaust the ways that God deals with us. The Son in Jesus Christ is connect with grace—the graciousness and mercy of God towards us. The Father is connected with love. Whatever in creation that connects us with love....shows us an aspect of the Father. The Spirit is connected with the formation of community. Any outreach that builds true community is the Spirit of God breathing among us. God deals with us in a multitude of ways.

There is one way that God deals with us that doesn’t come from the credal and theological traditions. But we learn it very clearly in the mystical tradition: namely, that God sometimes hides from us. God sometimes lurks just beyond the edge of our awareness. St. Theresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross understood this very well. This point was recently expressed very beautifully by Sr. Mara Faulkner, a Benedictine from St. Joseph, MN in a poem she wrote entitled: "Things I didn’t know I Loved." There’s a long list of such things, but towards the end she has this one: "And you, my God, so silent and cold, I didn’t know I loved you until you woke every morning in my little stove so lowly in your prison house of wood and flesh and fire so eager and so needful of my hands." That’s a wonderful thought to end with on Trinity Sunday: we may love God more than we really know. We all need to have faith in that.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Pentecost Homily

2011-06-12T18:42:00.002-04:00

Readings: Acts 2:1-11; 1 Cor 12:3-13; John 20:19-23

The Holy Spirit is an elusive (almost sneaky) sort. In today’s first reading the Spirit comes upon Mary and the disciples and impels them to speak in different languages. In the second reading Paul announces the thoroughness of the Spirit in all the followers of Jesus Christ, from the very first moment that one confessed ‘Jesus is Lord.’ And in the passage from John’s gospel the Spirit becomes the medium through which sins are forgiven. In our own days the Holy Spirit remains just as elusive. Pope John XXIII often remarked that it was a sudden inspiration from the Spirit that urged him to call the Second Vatican Council. It was that same council which proclaimed that the Holy Spirit distributes diverse charisms on all the members of the Church. The Holy Spirit is not easy to categorize.

I’d like to spend a little time with that last thought, that the Holy Spirit distributes charisms on all the members of the Church. Let’s listen again to that relevant passage from the Constitution on the Church: "...the Holy Spirit sanctifies and leads the people of God....and distributes special graces among the faithful of every rank. By these gifts he makes them fit and ready to undertake the various tasks and duties which contribute toward the renewal and building up of the Church. .... These charisms, whether they be the more outstanding or the more simple and widely diffused, are to be received with thanksgiving and consolation for they are especially suited to and useful for the needs of the Church." (#12)

This is really a very important teaching for the Christian people. It tells them that God’s relationship with them involves much more than simply praying for favors and hoping that God answers them. That’s oftentimes what it has been for a lot of people. This Vatican II teaching emphasizes that God takes the initiative with us and bestows special graces that allow all the Christian people to assist and help one another. When we have the sudden idea to drop in and visit an elderly neighbor or take a surprise party basket to a single mother raising several children, we should see that as God’s Spirit taking the initiative and giving us a charism. These charisms are God taking the initiative in our personal relationship.

Besides emphasizing God’s initiative with us, this teaching on charisms also stresses that God wants us to help each other and is always giving us nudges to do so. Every act of outreach is building up the church, the People of God.

The notion of God’s "Spirit" (in Hebrew, Ruah) takes us into the very heart of God’s Mystery. The word, Ruah, also means breath, a breath of wind. Just as our own breath comes from within us, from our heart, so the Holy Spirit comes from the very heart of God. I was recently watching a medieval fantasy story in which there was a scene that reminded me of this closeness of the Holy Spirit and breath. An old woman was trying to teach a young woman some of the knowledge of living well and living faithfully. The old woman said: "You must always remember to keep your ears open and listen to God speaking. Just listen now." After a while the young woman says, "I only hear the wind." The old woman smiles and says, "How do you think God speaks to us?" Let’s be open to listen to the Spirit of God this Pentecost.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Ascension Homily

2011-06-05T15:27:00.002-04:00

Readings: Acts 1:1-11; Eph 1:17-23; Mt 28:16-20

The feast of the Ascension is one that consistently gets shortchanged by many believers today. Part of the problem lies in the fact that we have such literal descriptions of the event, such as we heard today from the book of Acts and also the gospel of Luke about Jesus "rising" up to the heavens. Added to that we have such magnificent paintings of the event by many noted artists: Perugino, Rembrandt, Andrei Rublev, and the one on the cover of this missalette (Il Garofolo). The problem lies in the fact that people stop there, seeing the Ascension as merely the way of getting Jesus from earth into heaven after his Resurrection.....and nothing else. Thus, the full meaning of the Ascension is shortchanged.

In the second reading we heard this morning, from Paul’s Letter to the Ephesians, we are given the real meaning, the basic faith significance of the Ascension: "God has put all things beneath his feet and gave him as head over all things...." Through his death and resurrection God has made Jesus Christ the beginning, the measure and end of all things. He is the yardstick by which the value of everything, everyone and every human action is measured. The primary meaning of Ascension is not physical, but in a total spiritual sense. It was "through him" that everything was made; "with him" that every action finds its value; "in him" that everything and everyone will be judged. The Ascension stands as one of the pivotal beliefs of Christianity.

It also encompasses the greatest mystery of the Christian faith. How did those first followers of the simple Galilean preacher in the first century, those who recoiled in horror and fear at his eventual and sudden crucifixion and death, come to make such an extravagant claim about him? We simply don’t know the exact process by which it happened. That’s why we can only assert that it happened as a gift of faith from God. But the fact of that claim is clearly attested in the oldest Christian literature we possess, the letters of St. Paul. There it is clearly attested that the early Christian community most certainly worshiped Jesus Christ as the Son of God, risen from the dead and made Lord of all things.

That faith continues to this day. We reaffirm it every time we celebrate the Eucharist. At the end of every Eucharistic prayer, when the priest raises the consecrated bread and wine, he prays: "Through him, with him, in him, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, all glory and honor is yours, Almighty Father, forever and ever." Your "Amen" is reaffirming the Mystery of the Ascension! It is also affirming the Mystery of the gift of Faith.

But let’s go back to that thought that Jesus has been made the yardstick by which the value of everything, every one and every human action is measured. We need to take this beyond an intellectual affirmation of who Jesus is and what he does. It needs to be fully integrated into our spirituality and prayer life. One of the great developments that happened as a result of Vatican II was the entrance of this kind of spirituality in our Eucharistic prayers. As we shall pray in just a few moments: "While he lived among us he cured the sick, he cared for the poor and he wept with those who were grieving. He forgave sinners and taught us to forgive each other." We need to hear that often and begin to integrate it into our personal spirituality. That’s living the Mystery of the Ascension. And may we pray that it may be so for all of us!

Jesus' June Message

2011-06-01T13:47:00.002-04:00

Dear apostles, humanity suffers. If you have eyes to see, then you will see that all around you there are children of God who have become disconnected from their Father. When a child suffers, that child is consoled if his Father is nearby and engaged with him. The child feels understood, even in his great pain. The child feels that there is ultimate safety, even when he faces temporary risk. To know that one is destined for ultimate safety provides for a disposition that withstands any difficulty, even the prospect of death. Beloved apostles, so close to Me, do you see that you have something that most do not? Do you see that your anticipation of ultimate safety provides you with a solid wall at your back which will, someday, absorb you into Itself? At that time, you will never be at risk again. You will be one of those who rejoices completely, not only in your own safety, but in the safety of all those around you. You will be absorbed into the Communion of Saints who now so perfectly understand the struggle of humanity that they work tirelessly and joyfully for the salvation of their brothers and sisters remaining on earth. When you finish your time on earth, you, too, will understand the great things that I accomplished through the little yes answers you gave Me on your journey through time on earth. You will say, yes, it was worth everything. You will say this, dear friends, regardless of the amount of suffering or sacrifice you endured. But, even as I rejoice in your heavenly heading, I urge you to strain forward in My service. Others should possess this confidence and security. If I told you that there was one person who was lost and that he could be found, would you rejoice with Me? If I told you that this person, currently suffering, could be claimed for heaven through your allegiance to Me on this day, would you give Me that allegiance? For one more day? This is what I am asking of you. Answer yes to Me. Give Me this day today. Watch, dear apostle, what I can do with your yes answer today. Look back and see what I have done with your yes answers in the past. You will see, in looking back, the barest truth about what I accomplished through you. Only in heaven will you see the full extent of what the Father has gained through your presence in His heart. Trust Me, while I obtain peace for you and peace for others through you.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 6th Sunday of Easter

2011-05-29T15:55:00.001-04:00

Readings: Acts 8:5-17; 1 Peter 3:15-18; John 14:15-21

One of my favorite scriptural passages is in today’s second reading from the First Letter of Peter: "Always be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks you for a reason for your hope, but do it with gentleness and reverence." I suppose it was because it seemed to me that defined the whole purpose of my career as a professor of theology. My task was ultimately to help others come to the ability to give an explanation for their faith. In teaching seminarians I was instructing those who would later pass it on to their parishioners. In talks to parishes and various diocesan groups I was assisting them directly with the deeper grasp of their faith, "a reason for their hope."

I can still remember vividly my very first teaching experience. I was returning from Rome with my Masters degree in Systematic Theology in the summer of 1969, the year the School of Theology was having its first summer session. The session was open to seminarians, diocesan and religious priests, religious sisters and laity. Since classes in Rome finish later than in the United States, I was barely going to make it for the beginning of classes. I would arrive late one Saturday evening, have Sunday to get my first class ready, and begin on Monday morning. I had no idea what to expect when I walked into the classroom. When I finally did that Monday morning, I quickly looked over my class of around 25 participants and realized.....that I was the youngest person in the classroom. So I said: "Look at it this way. I have a lot of theoretical knowledge and you have a lot of pastoral experience. If we put those together, we can have a wonderful summer." And, indeed, we did.

It also didn’t take me very long to realize that learning the craft of teaching is a project in itself. My first years of theological education were blessed with a wonderful group of professors at St. Meinrad School of Theology. They gave stimulating lectures (most of them), encouraged class discussion and wanted students to think creatively. They were wonderful role models. But when I went to Rome to begin my Master’s degree studies, I encountered an entirely different system of education. There the professors read their lectures from prepared texts. There was no classroom discussion. Moreover, you could buy copies of the teacher’s lectures. Your final test questions were going to be taken directly from the material in the lectures. No creative thinking was encouraged. I was really puzzled by this educational system. It seemed so pedantic. Gradually I learned the reason for it. At various times in history when professors argued different points with each other, one of the tactics that was often employed was to get copies of the students’ notes that they had taken in class. In one case the professor’s opponents found evidence of over one hundred heresies in the students’ class notes. You begin to wonder just how much the students learn of what you actually intended to teach. Sometimes not a whole lot despite the best of your intentions.

When you go back to that scriptural passage I began with ("Always be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks you for a reason for your hope, but do it with gentleness and reverence)." you realize that the task of accomplishing that ultimately devolves on the individual believer himself or herself. The teacher is only a part-time guide. When I began teaching, I tried to set out to give the students an exact blueprint of directions to the desired goal. Somewhere along the way I realized that the most a teacher can do is point students in the general direction. And to encourage them to do their own hard work in being able to "give a reason for their hope." Let’s pray that all of us may work hard to be able to "give a reason for our hope."

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 5th Sunday of Easter

2011-05-22T14:44:00.002-04:00

Readings: Acts 6:1-7; 1 Pet 2:4-9; John 14:1-12

Over the years I have returned often to the first five chapters of the Book of Acts for inspiration; they provide an admittedly ideal glimpse into the life of the early Christian community—how they lived together in unity, harmony, sharing all things in common, praying and supporting one another. One passage says it all: "Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and simple hearts, praising God and having the good will of the people." (2:46-47) These same chapters, by the way, were very instrumental in the formation of early monasticism. The first monks felt they were trying to imitate that idyllic life together.

However, when we turn to chapter six in the Book of Acts, the tone changes considerably. The beginning of chapter six forms the first reading of today’s liturgy. In it the Hellenists complained that their widows were being neglected in the daily distribution of goods. The apostolic leaders respond by appointing seven individuals to take care of this task. But this episode only forms the beginning of a whole series of difficulties, internal and external, that the early Christian community had to deal with. A good part of the remaining chapters of Acts shows how they struggled with those difficulties, the biggest of them being the full acceptance of Gentiles into the Christian movement. That struggle takes a long, long time.

In these Sundays after Easter we have been exploring how we can manifest a "living hope" in the Resurrection of Jesus. On previous sundays we examined actions of mutual respect, reverent behavior, and being perceptive to the gates of God’s presence in our lives. This episode of the neglected widows shows another way: by a commitment to work patiently, patiently for something that you deeply believe is good. If you know that there’s a good end to your desires, you will try and try again to achieve it. You will put up with temporary failures, snags and your own inner discouragement to keep going and try again. In so doing we witness to a living hope in the Resurrection of Jesus.

A book that I’m currently reading provides an excellent example of that determination. It’s by a young man, Kyle Kramer, and is titled A Time to Plant. By the way, he’s the assistant academic dean at St. Meinrad. In the book he tells his life story. It begins to get interesting when he’s in graduate school, studying to be ordained as an Episcopal priest. Slowly a vision of life forms in him of becoming an organic farmer. He had no experience of this outside of growing a small vegetable garden. But he eventually gives up his academic and ministry career to buy a small farm plot near his parents in southern Indiana. He learns farming by trial and error (lots of errors). He marries a wife with a similar ecological mindset. Knowing little about construction he sets out to build a house for himself, his wife and the twins that surprised them both. At times in building this house his discouragement is overwhelming. Often frustrated, he sits and cries for long periods of time in the winter while he’s trying to put the wiring and plumbing into the shell of a house. Battling again and again against discouragement and depression and the strains it puts on his marriage and family, he eventually manages to succeed in the task. But it takes a lot longer than he expected. He kept at it because he believed it was a good end and worthy of enduring effort.

If you know the end you seek is good, you will work at it patiently over and over. And in so doing, we do witness to a living hope in the Resurrection of Jesus.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 4thSunday of Easter

2011-05-15T16:19:00.002-04:00

Readings: Acts 2:14,36-42; 1 Peter 2:20-25; John 10:1-10

In today’s gospel passage Jesus uses two images to describe himself, the Good Shepherd and the Gate. Both of them are symbols that contain overlapping realms of meaning. I personally find myself taken by the image of "Gate." But most of the significance of that term for me comes from my study of Jewish mysticism.

In Jewish mystical literature the image of "gate" possesses a highly charged meaning. A "gate" can be anything (a thing, a person, an event, a sensory perception) that opens you suddenly to the Divine Presence, the Presence of the Holy One. Gates can appear anywhere at any time. A particular event may on one occasion serve a gate and then never again. The whole purpose of spirituality is to teach a person to be always on the lookout for "gates to the Holy."

The modern Jewish spiritual writer, Lawrence Kushner, writes often about "gates" in his own experience. He writes: "Gates to holiness are everywhere. The possibility of ascent is all the time. Even at unlikely times and through unlikely places. There is no place on earth without the Presence. ... In a wilderness. Through a bush. From a circle. Nothing is beneath the dignity of being selected as a gate.

"One day I visited my daughter’s first grade class.... The air hung with a November chill. The children were working/playing in four or five groups. Someone shouted, ‘Look! It’s snowing outside.’ The groups crumbled as their members ran to the windows. No need for daily prayers here. Or on the proper blessing for seeing nature’s wonders for the first time. The cycle alternates between grand cathedrals and meditation amidst the trees of the forest. And we rediscover the fundamental truth. Gates to holiness are everywhere and all the time." (Honey from the Rock, p. 56)

I think we can make a valid application of this meaning of "gate" to Jesus. Jesus in many different ways serves as a gate to the divine. He reveals the hiddenness and depth of the Father. One aspect that really struck me during Holy Week was that the Passion of Jesus reveals a God who suffers with us. How profoundly that image can strike us. And how many people have been influenced by the image of the Sacred Heart of Jesus to come to believe in the compassion and mercy of God! There are so many images of Jesus that serve as gates or doorways to shape an understanding of God. One of my fellow students from San Anselmo in Rome, Anselm Grun (from the monastery Munsterschwarzach) recently wrote a spirituality book on Images of Jesus. He offers fifty different images of Jesus that have all been used as gates to better understand the Mystery of God. Some of them are really interesting: Jesus the dropout; Jesus the friend of women; Jesus the wild man; Jesus the clown; Jesus the glutton and drunkard; the Jesus who doesn’t let us rest. There’s much food for thought here.

Lastly, I’d like to connect this homily with the previous two Sundays after Easter. The main themes of those homilies developed the importance of mutual trust and reverent behavior as two ways of showing how we express a "living hope" in the Resurrection. In another sense both of them help us to be more prepared to be aware of "gates." Having respect for others and showing reverent behavior makes us more open and receptive to perceive "gates" where suddenly the presence of God happens. Let’s pray that each of us may find our "gates."

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 3rd Sunday of Easter

2011-05-08T16:21:00.002-04:00

Readings: Acts 2:2-33; 1 Pet 1:17-21; Luke 24:13-35

Last Sunday I mentioned how the challenge that these Sundays after Easter present to us is the question: how do we live as a Resurrection people? How do we express a living hope in our lives? Last week’s readings told us that we do this by a love for our community that’s based on mutual respect. In today’s second reading, from the first letter of Peter, that gets drawn out a bit further. If we truly have respect for others in our lives, we will show it in reverent behavior: St. Peter writes "conduct yourselves with reverence during the time of your sojourning...." Reverent behavior means that one deals with other people, always acknowledging the value they have as a person. That can be done in a lot of different ways.

Today’s gospel passage about the two disciples on the way to Emmaus provides an excellent example of reverent behavior through the virtue of hospitality. A stranger comes along and joins these two disciples, talking with them and betraying ignorance about recent events in Jerusalem. They had to think the guy was pretty dense. But that didn’t stop them from extending hospitality for the night; theirs was a reverent behavior. And, of course, Jesus is revealed in the midst of all that in the breaking of bread.

Another place where reverent behavior is often shown comes from an unusual television show, Undercover Boss. Now I’m not a usual watcher of the show. I’m really interested in the show which comes on after it at 10:00pm on CBS Sunday nights; that’s what I set my DVR for. However, CBS usually has some sports program on in the afternoon, which inevitably runs overtime. That means that the next day on my treadmill I wind up watching the last ten or fifteen minutes of Undercover Boss before my program comes on. If you don’t know what Undercover Boss is about, it concerns the president or CEO of a company going to work undercover as a new employee just hired by the company. It shows the mistakes he makes and how the other workers and his immediate bosses deal with him (or her). The last ten or fifteen minutes of the show—the part I am forced to watch—the truth comes out. The Boss is revealed and has individual evaluation sessions with those who were in charge of introducing him as a new employee into the company. Those people who are both praised and rewarded are those who dealt with the newcomer reverently, patiently putting up with mistakes and trying to teach improvement step by step. It’s really a very good example of reverent behavior.

That’s what should characterize all of us disciples of Jesus in our life together. It should be a hallmark of how we live in community. And yet it can so easily slip away. We fall into routines of how we deal with people. We gradually take them for granted—after all we see and interact with them everyday. We come to assume we know what their intentions are. Slowly we come to think the worst.

There are times we need to re-examine our daily behaviors and see if they are still characterized by reverence. The Sundays after Easter are a good time for that. Take some time to look carefully at how you deal with the people you interact with everyday: the people in your hall, the people you work with, the people you find yourself sitting with at table, especially the people who may be below you in your worksite. St. Peter says again: "Conduct yourselves with reverence during the time of your sojourning." Let’s pray that it may be so for all of us!

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 2nd Sunday of Easter

2011-05-01T15:11:00.000-04:00

Readings: Acts 2:42-47; 1 Pet 1:3-9; Jn 20:19-31

On Easter Sunday we celebrated the great event of Jesus’ Resurrection—that moment when His Heavenly Father vindicated his life work and ministry by receiving him into the fullness of Divine Glory. This Sunday and those which immediately follow consider how we are to assimilate and live that message in our lives. The question for these Sundays is: how are we a Resurrection People?

Today’s scriptural readings give us three widely differing responses to that question. The first, from the Acts of the Apostles, presents an ideal picture of the happy and harmonious life of the first followers of Jesus. "They devoted themselves to the teaching of the Apostles, to the common life, to the breaking of bread and to the prayers. .... They ate their meals with glad and joyful hearts." It’s the kind of description you read in vocation literature today. The second reading, from 1 Peter, gives a quite different response to the Resurrection message. It says the Resurrection has given us "a living hope" that will sustain us in the midst of the sufferings of life. That’s a much more modest and believable assessment. That would be a road we could follow. But then the third reading, the gospel story of the Doubting Thomas, causes us again to pause. It tells us that even to get to that "living hope" will require a struggling with doubt and uncertainty. In sum, these three readings tell us that "believing in the Resurrection of Jesus" has a great goal but that it’s no picnic in the park getting there.

I suppose the question that these readings raise for all of us is: how do we become and remain men and women of "living hope?" Whenever the subject of hope comes up, I’m always taken back to my first real introduction to that virtue in the life story of Fr. William Lynch. William Lynch was a Jesuit priest who taught the classics at Fordham University in New York City. While he was in the full stature of a professor, he experienced a nervous breakdown, falling into a debilitating depression that required extensive hospitalization. During his lengthy stay in the psychiatric hospital he slowly and painfully regained a hope in life. He later told of his regaining hope in one of his most famous books, Images of Hope. He describes vividly the painful little steps by which he could once again see a future in life. His first step was trusting someone else to assist him in the task: first, the psychiatrist, then some of the other patients in the hospital. This experience convinced Fr. Lynch that true hope—true Christian hope—is only gained and experienced communally.

And I think that’s one of the reasons we hear that idealistic description of community life in the first reading today. It’s to highlight the assertion that Resurrection-faith is really an action of community hope, a "living hope" that will sustain us in the struggles of life. And we do it together. And we do it together.

The real message of these scriptural readings is how much we need each other. That’s the essence of a real religious community. I was amazed when I read in Fr. Matthew Kelty’s Gethsemani Homilies his reflections on 50 years as a monk in the monastery of Gethsemani. He said in all that time there wasn’t a single person he met in the house that he would personally choose as a friend. He continued "but we are all brothers and there’s a lot of love in this place." It’s a love that based on respect, not necessarily "liking" people. The hope that sustains us springs up in our midst and we all contribute something to it. That’s one of the miracles of Easter.

Jesus' May Message

2011-05-01T08:14:00.003-04:00

Dearest apostles, I speak to you today with a heart filled with love. I am grateful for your steady service. I am grateful for your fidelity to My plan for Renewal. If there is something that is keeping you from total abandonment to My cause, I will show you. Will you accept My light? Will you allow Me to direct you to even greater holiness? I want this for you. I want you to make additional gains in holiness. Perhaps you are afraid of this because you fear I will ask you to give more than you can give. I assure you, dear apostles, I will not ask you for anything you cannot give to Me. I will ask you to serve Me in a reasonable manner that is consistent with the gifts I have given to you. What I am urging you toward is greater intimacy with Me and with My heart. My heart beats with love for humanity in an uninterrupted beat. The rhythm of My beating heart provides you with a steady source of zeal for the spread of the gospel message. Too many of God’s children are without hope. This lack of hope brings them to actions that hurt themselves and others. There is no need for this, dear apostles, and you can change the experience of many if you do as I ask. You will have to be alert in order to hear My instructions, though, and it is for this reason I call you to concentrate on what is good about your life. I call you to concentrate on what I am seeking to do through you. Be at peace. I will help you in everything and, together, we will offer the Father the gift of your ongoing conversion.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Easter Homily

2011-04-24T16:15:00.002-04:00

Readings: Acts 10:34-43; Col 3:1-4; Jn 20:1-9

In the mountain regions of Greece, where little villages are widely separated, it’s common for a priest to have five or six villages assigned to his care. On Easter Sunday morning he is expected to visit each one of them and celebrate a short morning service of the Resurrection in the Byzantine tradition. The custom has arisen, and remains to this day, that when the priest enters each little church where the people have gathered, he shouts at the top of his voice, "Christos anesti" (Christ is Risen) And the people shout in return "Christos anesti." They are celebrating that in the Resurrection Jesus has saved and redeemed us. We have a future with God. The feast of the Resurrection is the salvation of all the followers of Jesus and indeed the whole world.

That’s the large, overall Christian message of Easter. But a smaller, day-to-day message follows closely from that. Easter also points to a transition in the life of Jesus’ disciples. They have been freed from the fear and uncertainty that followed the capture and crucifixion of Jesus. Beyond that they are led to an empowering joy in their lives. We don’t see much of that empowering joy in the Gospels themselves, but it shows up in the subsequent writings of the New Testament. The disciples go around fearlessly proclaiming the Resurrection of Jesus and the New Covenant with God that Jesus’ life, death and Resurrection made manifest. Early Christianity is a movement flooded by empowering joy, an empowering joy that they want to share with all people.

It’s important to keep both of these perspectives in mind as we celebrate this feast. On the one hand, we joyfully proclaim the glorious future that God has opened for us. On the other hand, we recognize that we are impelled to go out and share this empowering joy with others, especially those suffering from the discouragements of life.

That dual dimension was something I certainly felt last Wednesday evening. I was over at the Hermitage pushing my mother through the halls when the Health Care receptionist came up to me. She said that one of the residents, Tudie West, was rapidly in the process of dying and she couldn’t find any priest to do the anointing for her. I said I would go and immediately get my oils. On the way back to the chaplain’s house I kept thinking of the past months. Almost every evening when I would go to the Hermitage after supper one of her daughters, especially the twins Karen and Sharon, was feeding her in such a gentle manner. I would often stop and talk with them for a while. I thought, "they are now on their Good Friday way of the cross." When I got to her room, all her children (except for one son) were there and grieving as they knew she was dying. I was able to get all of them involved in the anointing as a final farewell to their mother. She died a little more than an hour after that. The next afternoon I ran into Sharon and Karen in the parking lot. They had cleaned out their mother’s room and were loading the things into a station wagon. I stopped and talked with them. They were very appreciative that I could do the anointing. I mentioned that something like this, sad as it is, has a way of bringing the children closer together. They said that was certainly true with them; the children had become closer than they had ever been before. The power of empowering joy was beginning to be felt in their lives. It would be an Easter of hope for them.

That’s what Easter should be for each of us—the dawning of an empowering joy in our lives that will make us become men and women of great hope. Let’s pray that it be so.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for Passion Sunday

2011-04-17T15:40:00.001-04:00

Readings: Is 50:4-7; Phil 2:6-11; Mt 26:14-27:66

This feast of Passion Sunday and the reading of the Passion account remembers and anticipates a sudden change in the lives of Jesus and his disciples. How thrilling and joyous was that triumphal entry into Jerusalem! How deeply moving was that intimate supper that Jesus celebrated with his closest followers! After the meal they went out into the night singing, as was Jewish custom, the Hallel Psalms (##115-118) and the Great Hallel (#136): "Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good; His love is eternal. Give thanks to the God of Gods; His love is eternal." Joyous with the meal, the celebration and the wine they nodded off in the garden while Jesus prayed. Then in a flash the soldiers arrived, Jesus is arrested, and the disciples scatter and run away in fear. The unthinkable had happened. Everything changed in that moment. Passion Sunday reminds us of that change as we read the Passion account. How quickly the joyous entry into Jerusalem has suddenly become tragedy.

Holy Week plays out symbolically the last weeks of Jesus’ life. Each day in Holy Week is connected to some event that prepared for Jesus’ death and burial in those earlier days. As the week moves along we will want to focus on those events as part of our common liturgical lectio.

That’s what Holy Week is for a monastic community—a common liturgical lectio. We together are reading not a book, but a series of liturgical actions—the washing of the feet, the sharing of a supper, the reading of the Passion account. With each event we reflect on that event for its significance for our own spiritual lives. This is the story of our faith, indeed of our salvation, acted out.

This Passion Sunday we began with that joyful outdoor procession around the Mary circle and into the Church—liturgically expressing the Lord’s entry into Jerusalem. But soon we were listening to the account of the Passion—the beginning of the painful end of Jesus life. These remind us that we have our great moments of joy and happiness in life, but we will also have our own crosses. Let’s pray for a moment on that.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 5th Sunday in Lent

2011-04-10T15:19:00.002-04:00

Readings: Ez 37:12-14; Rom 8:8-11; Jn 11:1-45

The story of the raising of Lazarus appears only in the Gospel of John. Not even a trace exists in the gospel traditions of Matthew, Mark and Luke. How odd that is! You would think such a spectacular miracle would have been imprinted into all the Christian memories of Jesus. But it didn’t. In John’s gospel it seems to serve a variety of functions. First, it is an exemplification of what John has Jesus say earlier in the gospel: "The Father has given the power of life and death to the Son." (5:26) Second, the story looks forward to Jesus’ own resurrection, which will far surpass Lazarus in magnificence and glory. Third, the story is the fulfillment of the prophecy of Ezekiel, which we heard in the first reading: "I will open your graves and have you rise from them" The cumulative effect of all these references clearly points to John’s primary affirmation that Jesus himself is the Son of God.

We need to hear this message now. It’s been a hard week for the community with deaths, near-deaths, scary episodes for community members, and just sad events (Fr. Mel Bennett’s automobile accident, in which he killed another person.). It’s a time when the cost of being human and human failure just weighs down upon us. I could see it in your faces this week and I could feel it in mine. We need this message of the Resurrection that Jesus is ultimately the source of life.

This reminds us how much the Christian faith is a religion of hope: hope in a blessed future; hope in a merciful and forgiving God; hope that something better lies beyond the struggles of this life.

This is told beautifully in a famous story related by the Venerable Bede in his Ecclesiastical History of the English People. During the 7th century Christian missionaries are trying to convert Anglo-Saxon tribes in England from their tribal gods to the Christian faith. The bishop Paulinus is attempting to convert King Edwin of Northumbria to Christianity. The king leans in that direction, but first he wants to consult with his fighting men. Should we try this new faith or not? During the discussion one of his soldiers makes this famous comment: "Your Majesty, when we compare the present life of man with that time of which we have no knowledge, it seems to me like the swift flight of a lone sparrow through the banquet hall where you sit in winter months to dine with your thanes and councillors. Inside there is a comforting fire to warm the room; outside, the wintry storms of snow and rain are raging. This sparrow flies swiftly in through one door of the hall and out the other. While he is inside, he is safe from the winter storms; but after a few sudden moments of comfort, he vanishes from sight into the darkness from whence he came. Similarly, man appears on earth a little while, but we know nothing of what went before this life, and what follows. Therefore if this new teaching can reveal any more certain knowledge, it seems only right that we should follow it." (pp. 124-125) Not bad advice from a barbarian.

What the Christian faith does offer is a vision of hope. Hope that we are destined for a future with the Mystery of God. And in that all of our desires and hopes will be fulfilled....far beyond our imagining. As St. Paul writes, "For eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor has it even entered into the human imagination what God has prepared for those who love Him." (1 Cor 2:9) Moreover, the Christian faith offers a group of like-minded hopers to help and support one another to keep this hope alive. That’s precisely what we are doing in this communal celebration of the Eucharist.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 4th Sunday in Lent

2011-04-03T14:25:00.004-04:00

Readings: 1 Sam 16:1-13; Eph 5:8-14; Jn 9:1-41

Fr. Mark Massa SJ, in a recent insightful book entitled The American Catholic Revolution: How the Sixties changed the Church forever, states in several places that the only way one can explain many of the changes that happened after Vatican II is by reverting to an old law of history: the law of unintended consequences. In other words this law could be put positively: in a living, historical community of people things seldom go exactly as one plans them. There are simply too many factors to take into consideration when planning. No one individual, no committee can refer to all of them. Human life is too complex. How often governments have passed laws to control a situation....and wound up making it worse....because of something no one had ever thought of. Fr. Massa believes that there is no way the bishops at Vatican II could have imagined the change process they unleashed in the Church. Things seldom turn out exactly as we plan them.

There’s a similar kind of law that seems to emerge from today’s readings: people seldom are completely what they seem to be on the surface. In the first reading Jesse doesn’t even consider his youngest son, David, as a possible candidate to be the King of Israel. But in God’s eyes David is that king. In the gospel the man born blind is simply taken to be born in sin; his very blindness shows that. But Jesus says: "No, he was not born in sin." That has nothing to do with his blindness. People seldom are completely what they seem to be on the surface.

It would be good if we would take these two laws more seriously, especially the second. Lent is a good time to do a little purging of the presumptions and judgments we have about people, particularly those we closely live with. Presumptions and judgments can get so ingrained in us that it’s hard to see how far off they are from the reality. This gospel story today is just filled with biases and prejudices. The Pharisees have no qualms about their judgments on the man born blind or on Jesus; they are prejudiced. They can’t see past attitudes that they have come to accept as "set in concrete." Their opinion of themselves just drips with bias. Most of us would probably find it hard to admit that we are much more similar to them than we think we are.

Prejudices, especially inherited prejudices, are notoriously difficult to confront. I’m reminded of the early years of the ecumenical and interfaith dialogues—how much suspicion there was of each other. I remember once hearing Rabbi Marc Tannenbaum give an address about his entry into interfaith relations with Catholics. His own family had known nothing but hostility from Christians for generations. He spoke about the first time he was going to meet with a group of Catholic bishops and priests during the Second Vatican Council. His family had a deep-rooted prejudice towards Catholics and fear of them. He could hardly sleep the night before. He kept waking up and finding himself sweating heavily. The next morning he considered not showing up for the meeting at all. Even after the meeting went beautifully, he had a hard time accepting in his heart that these were really good people, good religious people. He had to tell himself that over and over again. It’s not easy to get at prejudices.

Lent is a good time for us to begin to erode some of the prejudices and biases in our lives.

Spring Break in Wyoming

2011-04-01T17:09:00.012-04:00

My brother, Fr. Zach, and I just returned from our trip to Wyoming. We spent 6 days with our brother...the Bishop! Pictures speak louder than words!

Jesus' April Message

2011-04-01T11:05:00.002-04:00

Dearest apostles, you are serving Me despite trials and temptations. That is why you are called apostles, because you follow Me and serve Me. No life is easy or without strife, and I know, dear apostles, that you experience your share of difficulty. These difficulties are important for you because through the suffering of them you gain mastery over yourself. When you conquer a difficulty, using the holiness you have received from Me, you become stronger spiritually and then when the next difficulty comes, you both view it differently and treat it differently. You view it as expected, because your experience tells you that life in general, and service to Me specifically, will include these difficulties. You treat it differently because you know that I am with you today as I have been with you in the past. Additionally, you understand that all difficulty passes. What is it that remains, dear apostles, when the difficulty passes? Your commitment to Me remains and the work I will for you remains. You are not overcome and I need your help. And so we go on, Jesus and His apostles. The work continues and comfort and salvation are brought to God’s children. Be at peace, dear friends. I am with you and I am factoring in your presence as I plan for the advancement of the Renewal.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 3rd Sunday in Lent

2011-03-29T09:56:00.001-04:00

Readings: Ex 17:3-7; Rom 5:1-8; Jn 4:5-42 The story of the Samaritan woman is one of the first classic "conversion stories" of the New Testament. This woman with a sinful past hears the word of Jesus, takes it to heart and becomes one of his followers. She also becomes one of his first apostles, telling of him to her Samaritan townspeople. She begins what will become a classic pattern in Christian history: a staunch sinner who has a deep conversion of heart and becomes an ardent follower of the Christian way. We can think of St. Paul and also of St. Augustine, famous because he wrote about his own struggles and conversion so powerfully in his Confessions. In our own time we can recall Dorothy Day and all that she subsequently accomplished in the Catholic Worker movement. Those are well-known examples. But it’s good for us to remember that there are lots more that very few people know about. Those stories of deep personal conversion are sitting in church pews every Sunday in just about every Catholic Church. Let me tell you about one example that moved me very deeply. One Sunday, when I was at Holy Rosary parish in Nashville, TN, after the 10:30am mass a young woman with a baby in her arms came up and asked if she could see me sometime. I said "Certainly" and we set a meeting time. At that meeting she told me her story. When she was sixteen in high school she became pregnant; then both she and her seventeen-year old boyfriend dropped out of high school and began living together. They lived in squalid conditions and both of them continued to drink and use drugs. One evening about a year later she and her boyfriend were having a party with some friends; a lot of drinking and drug use was going on. At one point the baby began to cry in the next room. She went in to see the baby, but inside the room she just crumpled to the floor in her dazed condition. She lay there in half-consciousness while the baby continued to cry. Then the thought appeared and kept flowing through her mind over and over: "If my baby was really hurt, I couldn’t do a thing to help him." Later, when she came to her senses, she promised herself that she would never use drugs again, drink or smoke. Her boyfriend said OK, but he wasn’t going to stop. So she moved out and found a place to live; got a job, and began making a life for her baby. She decided that she needed some religion for support. Her own parents didn’t practice any religion, so she started visiting various churches to find one that she felt comfortable in. She liked it best in the Catholic Church and that brought her to me. In time I gave her instructions and baptized her and her baby in the Catholic faith. She became a regular member of Holy Rosary parish. She’s known to very few, but a dramatic conversion story nonetheless. It’s good for those of us who don’t go through such a dramatic conversion to remember that they are all around and among us. That should help all of us to have a deeper appreciation of human weakness and failing, of unknown strength that is discovered, of the grace of God still acting very strongly in our world. Where did that thought come from when the young woman was lying on the floor in a drunken and drugged state? It’s the same grace of God that the Samaritan woman heard. It’s that grace of God that the season of Lent asks us to sharpen our awareness towards. The story of the Samaritan woman takes us to the heart of the Christian gospel: the grace of God changing a human heart. p.s. Six or seven years after I left Holy Rosary parish, I returned for a visit. I decided to call the young woman and see how she was doing. Quite nicely. She had gotten her boyfriend to give up drugs. He got a job and they got married. They had a second baby. Like the Samaritan woman, she too had become an apostle.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 2nd Sunday in Lent

2011-03-23T06:15:00.001-04:00

Readings: Gen 12:1-4; 2 Tim 1:8-10; Mt 17:1-9

One day last week I was over at the Hermitage and got on the elevator with one of the kitchen workers. She was irate. What set her off was a billboard she had seen on I-465 as she was coming to work. The billboard read: "You can be good without God." To her that was scandalous and she believed the billboard should be taken down as soon as possible by any means possible. I just listened as she ranted on. I didn’t dare tell her: that’s what we believe as Catholics. And we do. Of course, we would want to put up a billboard right next to the offensive one which would read: "But you can be better with God." The Catholic Christian tradition has always believed that there is a natural law and a natural law morality. One can be good by following the dictates of one’s conscience without explicitly believing that there is a God. Vatican II reaffirmed that point in its Constitution on the Church: "Nor does divine providence deny the helps necessary to salvation for those....who have not yet arrived at an explicit knowledge of God but who strive to lead a good life." (#16) But I doubt any of that would have made any difference to the irate kitchen worker.

This little episode serves to remind us that "faith" is "the effort to seek the deeper meaning." The very act of faith says there is a deeper dimension to the human experience. There are lots of ways to assert and affirm this. One of my favorites is a small piece of literature, a short story by the Russian writer, Anton Chekhov, entitled "The Bet." This little story tells of two young Russian aristocrats in the late 1800s who get engaged in an argument during a drinking party about being a hermit. Eventually they bet a million dollars that the one who claimed he could live as a hermit would do so for twenty years without having any contact with another human being. In their drunken stupor they outline all the determinants of the bet—the little hut the man is to live in, how he is to be fed, how he can only communicate by letter with the other young man, and so on. And so he begins. The majority of the short story is about what he reads each year, the things he does. As the twenty years are about to end, the young man outside has become panicky. Through the years he has lost a lot of his money on bad business deals and gambling. What he has left will have to be given to the man who has succeeded in living in isolation for twenty years. Finally he determines to kill to kill the hermit who has lost lots of weight during the twenty years of isolation. As he enters the little cottage to kill him, he sees that the hermit has his head down on his desk and is sleeping. As he is about to smother him with a pillow, he notices that the hermit has been writing a letter. He picks it up to read it. The letter tells his friend that in the years he has been enclosed, he has been able to see through to the deeper reality of things and what really matters in life. Money, luxury, fame no longer mean anything to him. Therefore, five minutes before the bet is to end, he will voluntarily leave the room and so forfeit his right to win the bet. The man who was going to smother him walks out of the cottage stunned. The next day the hermit leaves the room five minutes before noon, walks out the front gate and is never seen again.

This story makes the point that "deep insight" requires quiet, contemplation and solitude. That’s exactly what the season of Lent asks us to pursue. We don’t have years of quiet and solitude to pursue the deep thinking that the season asks us to do. We have to carve it out of busy and often rushed lives. That’s one of the greatest challenges of the season of Lent, finding time to slow down, calm one’s thoughts and feelings, and explore the issue of values—what really matters in our lives. Let’s make a renewed effort this week.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 1st Sunday in Lent

2011-03-13T15:01:00.002-04:00

Readings: Gen 2:7-9, 3:1-7; Rom 5:12-17; Matt 4:1-11

The readings today surely take us into the dark side of human history. The Genesis reading about Adam and Eve recounts the story of the very first transgression against God, the first sin. Paul’s Letter to the Romans describes the history of sin, how its effects are passed on from generation to generation. Finally, the temptation story of Jesus serves as a prototype of how every human being has to struggle with temptation in one way or another. Three different subjects: the first sin, the history of sin, the lure of temptations—any of them would be a fitting topic for a homily on this First Sunday of Lent.

Today I’d like to reflect on the second topic, the history of sin. I suppose that choice is greatly influenced by what I’ve been listening to lately. When I drive by myself in the car, I’ve been listening to a program from the Teaching Company: The United States and the Middle East, 1914-9/11. It’s quite enlightening, but also very discouraging. From the First World War onwards Western nations just made mistake after mistake in dealing with the Arab nations. Those mistakes had a cumulative effect. Every time a new leader came along with the best of intentions, he ran right into those amassed mistakes of the past. Soon he compounded them by making more political mistakes. This is a mess that there just doesn’t seem to be anyway out of. That’s much the same as the history of sin. It tends to have a cumulative effect.

Sins pile up and each subsequent generation faces more problems and challenges in dealing with them. There comes a point where one can see and believe that only by God’s grace and initiative can any way be found out of the mess. But we have to pray for it. That’s why I so love the words of the Preface of the Second Eucharistic Prayer of Reconciliation: "Your Spirit can change our hearts: so that enemies begin to speak to one another, those who were estranged join hands in friendship, and nations seek the way of peace together. It is your Spirit at work when understanding puts an end to strife, when hatred is quenched by mercy, and revenge gives way to forgiveness." We need to pray for it.

The history of sin needs to be faced in lives and in ministry. I suppose that one of the places you see it so often is in individual family histories. You meet that a lot when you work in parish ministry. One example I met when I was at St. Ann’s parish in Nashville, TN. Through an unusual series of events I came in contact with two women at a funeral service in a mortuary. Afterwards they asked me what parish I was from. I told them, "St. Ann’s." "Oh," they said, "we live right across the street from you." I looked at them and said, "I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before." They explained to me that they don’t attend St. Ann’s; they wouldn’t set foot inside the church; they attend the cathedral parish four miles away downtown. This all stemmed from one of their grandfathers who got into a big argument with the St. Ann’s pastor at that time. That grandfather swore he would never set foot in St. Ann’s parish again. That attitude had just been passed on from one generation after another. Nobody in the family today even knew what the original argument was all about.

The insidious aspect to our own history of sin is that often we have lived with it for so long that we are completely comfortable with it. That makes really hard to identify in ourselves. Like the two ladies I just mentioned. Whenever they looked out their front window and saw St. Ann’s church, they felt anger and revulsion. Neither of them knew why. Even worse, neither of them bothered to ask why. Lent is the time when we need to give some attention to identifying our own history of sin. When we hear those words of the Eucharistic Prayer, "It is your Spirit at work when understanding puts an end to strife, when hatred is quenched by mercy, and revenge gives way to forgiveness," it’s so easy to think of world events. But sometimes the strife, the hatred, the revenge....is in our own hearts. We have to look deeply into our own hearts, and we have to pray earnestly for the help of God’s Spirit.

8th Graders Serve at the Cathedral Soup Kitchen

2011-03-12T16:57:00.001-05:00

This trip to the soup kitchen had a few significant differences from the first. In this visit, I didn’t have to worry as much about serving the food, so the people there could easily interact with me. And I was taken aback by how courteous and polite those people were. Sure, there was one fight, but it soon dissolved and everyone around didn’t try to keep the fight going. In fact, one man actually came up to me and said, “It’s terrible to see grown men act like children.” I thought it was stunning to see some of the optimism and maturity that these people put forth. Being out in the world, alone and cold, can do terrible things to a person. But these people overcame their difficulties and really showed that they were respectable, thoughtful people. It was a showcase of human understanding that I would have never thought would have been there in that room.
(Oscar T.)

My trip to the soup kitchen was very similar to the previous time. Once again there were people standing there when we arrived and once again I was upset by the number of people in Indiana who are hungry. I think the number of people I served increased since last time I was there. I was upset to see two people fighting over a bowl of soup. But I went there to serve the hungry and that’s what I did. I opened and poured bottles of juice. I also put crackers and some sort of chicken casserole into a bowl. Unfortunately, we ran out of crackers because someone stole a whole box. Someone else stole the butter and sugar. At the end of the day it was sad to see how desperate some people can be when they are hungry. I guess all we can do is pray for them to find work and be well fed, because we all know that God will take care of his people. However, I had as much fun this time as I did last time. I thoroughly enjoyed helping people and seeing their face light up when I gave them a friendly smile and a kind word.
(Lauren H.)

An Interview with a Bishop

2011-03-10T12:43:00.006-05:00

I was blessed to have my brother, Bishop Paul Etienne, spend two hours with me at my school, Holy Name. The 5th graders did an excellent job interviewing Bishop Paul. The following link will take you to the interview: An Interview with a Bishop.

I thank God for the family He gave me.

Continued blessings on your Lenten journey!

Happy Ash Wednesday

2011-03-09T00:01:00.002-05:00

Prayer...
Fasting...
Almsgiving...

What to do? What to do? How much time have you spent on what you should "GIVE UP" for Lent? Every year I agonize over my "Bona Opera" my good works. As a Benedictine Sister I'm required to complete my Bona Opera and turn it in to my prioress so she can give me her blessing for my good works during Lent.

The following is from the Rule of St. Benedict:

Rule of St. Benedict, ch. 49
At all times the lifestyle of a monk should have a Lenten quality. However, because few have that kind of strength, we urge them to guard their lives with all purity during these Lenten days. All should work together at effacing during this holy season the negligences of other times. The proper way to do this is to restrain ourselves from all evil habits and to devote ourselves to tearful prayer, reading, compunction of heart and asceticism. Therefore in these days, we should increase the regular measure of our service in the form of special prayers and abstinence from food and drink. In this way each one, of his own free will with the joy of the Holy Spirit, can offer God something beyond what is imposed on him. Let him deny his body some food, some drink, some sleep, some chatter, some joking and let him await Holy Easter with the joy of spiritual desire. Yet, let each one propose to his abbot what he wishes to offer (to God) so that it is done with his blessing and approval. For whatever is done without the permission of the spiritual father will be counted as presumption and vainglory, not reward. Therefore, everything is to be done with the abbot’s approval.

St. Benedict sure was wise...I guess that's why God called him to start the Benedictine way of life over 1500 years ago! Even though I agonize over my Lenten Practices...I take comfort in knowing that my Prioress is praying for me and gives me her blessing.

Prayer

I am "giving up" some things...it just wouldn't be Lent for me if I didn't...but more importantly I decided that I am going to be more vigilant with the life that I am already living. Prayer is cental in the life of a Benedictine. If I'm not careful though, I can become stagnant in my everyday prayer life. I'm going to strive during these next 40 days to stay focused when I pray the Rosary, the Divine Office, the Divine Mercy Chaplet and when I spend time with my students in Adoration every Thursday.

Fasting

I am fasting from sweets and bread...except for the bread of Christ which I receive at the Eucharist. But I'm also going to work hard to fast from idle gossip and laziness. I want to fast from things or behaviors that draw my attention away from Christ.

Almsgiving

Because I promised to live a life of poverty, I really don't have money to donate to organizations in need. But I can give more of myself to those in need. One of my 6th grade students told me that during Lent she is going to put her needs last and the needs of others first. What a great practice! We can all give a smile, a high five, a hug, a warm welcome, a helping hand.

During this time of Lent we have 40 days to prepare our hearts and lives for the great miracle of Easter. Yes, today begins a time of fast...but it prepares us for the great feast of Easter! Let's pray for one another that our intentions and practices are pleasing to Jesus...who loves us so much and gladly sacrificed His life for us.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 9th Sunday in Ordinary Time

2011-03-06T17:10:00.001-05:00

Readings: Deut 11:18-32; Rom 3:21-28; Mt 7:21-27

The passage from Deuteronomy, which we just heard, is one of the most famous in Jewish life and spirituality, especially these words: "Take these words of mine into your heart and soul. Bind them at your wrist as a sign, and let them be a pendant on your forehead." These words led to some of the most recognizable features of Jewish life through the centuries—the wearing of little leather containers (Teffalin) attached to the wrist and forehead of observant Jews when they pray. The leather pouches each held a little piece of parchment on which was written part of this passage from Deuteronomy. (I have a set, from the times when I was teaching the "Introduction to Judaism course, but unfortunately they are still down in my room at St. Meinrad.) Along with the prayer shawl (Tallit) and its tassels (Tzitzit), which corresponds to another passage in the book of Numbers (15:37-40), the Teffalin were to be continual daily reminders to the Jews of their unique covenant with the Lord God—daily reminders. The same function was served by the small container (Mezuzah) placed on the door frame of the main entry to the house. It also has a small piece of parchment with an inscription inside, "The Lord Our God is One." The name of God, Shaddai, is written on the outside. Jews would touch these each time they entered or left their homes. (I have several of these too, but they also are down at St. Meinrad.) The skullcap (Kippah) is also a reminder of their special covenant with God.

The early Christians, spiritual descendants of the Jews, did the same thing, although with other objects, symbols and rituals. In place of the Mezuzah they would often inscribe a Christian symbol on their door frames—an anchor (a reference to Heb. 6:19 where Jesus is described as a sure anchor of the soul), a fish (the Greek letters of the word for fish (ichthus) form an acronym which in Greek means "Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior), a Chi-Rho, which is a combination of the first two letters of "Christos." These served both as identification signs for Christian travelers passing through the city as well as reminders to the home owners about the basis of their Christian faith. Inside an early Christian home would frequently be found a "prayer corner," a specially designated place to pray. They took that practice from the religious culture of the Romans. Passing that "prayer spot" several times a day would be a reminder of the need for daily personal prayer in the life of the believer; often they would stop and pray there. The Byzantine Christian tradition has continued this practice through the centuries up to today. Frequently in Byzantine homes you can see where an "icon prayer corner" has been set up.

We continue the same kinds of practices today—though the practices have changed with time and culture. There are some things you just expect to see in Benedictine houses. There are always multiple statues and pictures of Benedict and Scholastica. There’s usually some cross that is distinctive to that particular house, like you have with your house. Monastic houses seem to take such special care of their cemeteries. When I was on the "retreat circuit," I used to always visit the community’s cemetery and found them very moving places. They told the story of that house in a unique way.

In our own individual lives we often have some similar visual reminders that vary with each person. Perhaps a cross, a pin, a picture, an icon corner, a special book. There are some monks at St. Meinrad that have mezuzahs on the door frames to their rooms. Others that have special holy water fonts inside their doors.

This day and this passage from Deuteronomy might be a good occasion for each of us to identify: what are the visual landmarks of my Christian faith, what are the visual landmarks of my Benedictine tradition, what are the visual landmarks of my particular house? And how faithful am I in responding to them regularly?

Jesus' March Message

2011-03-01T06:07:00.004-05:00

Each month, Anne, a lay apostle, receives a message from Jesus. This is the message for March. To read more about the locutions Anne receives from Jesus and His Blessed Mother click on this link: Direction For Our Times .

Be at peace, dear apostles. I urge you to strive daily to be at peace. All that surrounds you will benefit from your understanding that while the world changes, God remains the same. I am the same. I am with you and the reason I urge you toward a peaceful countenance is because the enemy of peace sows fear in God’s children. You may think that I am asking you to be at peace but that this is too difficult. Dear friend of My heart, consider for a moment. What diminishes your peace? Which people? Which habits? Which activities? Ask yourself why these people or things diminish your peace? You must find these answers in contemplation of Me and contemplation of heavenly concepts. Only then will you be able to readily identify the contrast between the feeling of peace that heaven offers to you and the feeling of agitation that the world offers to you. The Spirit within you directs you to quiet, even in the midst of what might necessarily be a busy life. If you work from Me, you will retain your peace in activity and interaction with others because you will be giving and receiving Me. When you are with someone who is unable to accept My love, My love will surround that person until that person can receive it and you will not have wasted love because My love blesses you even as it moves through you. By working from Me, you are disciplining yourself to remain peaceful because I am peace. I am calm. I am love. How often I ask you to provide the world with a contrast and it is in remaining peaceful that you will do so. Be alert to My presence and you will spread peace.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 8th Sunday in Ordinary Time

2011-02-27T13:48:00.002-05:00

Readings: Is 49:14-15; 1 Cor 4:1-5; Mt 6:24-34

I suspect that one sentence of today’s Gospel would raise eyebrows on multitudes of Christians: "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life." For most of the past ten years I’ve been living with several supreme worriers. One of them was Sr. Amelia. She worried about everything, which made her extremely observant and extremely good as a sacristan. She even worried about her worrying too much. We used to talk about it regularly back in the sacristy. She used to often say, "I wish I wouldn’t worry so much, but I can’t help it." I told her I would pray for her about it. To remind myself and her regularly I began to add a phrase to the daily text of the mass. In the prayer that follows the Lord’s Prayer this line occurs: "Protect us from all anxiety." I added the phrase, "and worry." It didn’t have much effect, but she knew I was praying for her every day. The other heavy worrier I live with is my mother. She’s even worse than Sr. Amelia. She even dreams up things to worry about. They say that worrying takes years off your life. Well, at age 97, I’m not sure when that’s going to kick in for her. But we don’t need to consider famous worriers. Most of us are at an age when we begin to worry about our bodies. We worry about that new bump or mole that appears on our skin. We worry about that ache or pain in our stomach. We worry if a headache is actually a sign of something much worse. At a certain age worrying becomes a natural component of life.

The question weighs upon us: what exactly did Jesus mean when he said: "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life." We need to take this sentence in the context of the entire passage it is part of. Then we see that the primary intent of the passage is to build to its climax: "Seek first the Kingdom of God and its righteousness...." Everything before that in the passage is overstated in order to lead to the climax and emphasize its importance. Seeking God is always of greatest importance in the life of the believer. And I have no doubt that such was the case with Sr. Amelia and is so with my mother. But they were and are still great worriers.

If we would look at the whole body of Jesus’ teaching, we see that he continually encourages his followers to be concerned about their brothers and sisters. And that concern includes worrying about them. There are very legitimate worries that faithful believers can have. That should be of some consolation to all of you who are worriers out there. A man who is laid off work or in danger of being laid off can have some honest worries about how he is going to provide for his family. And each of us should have some valid worries about the state of our health. We do need to look after that.

Our task is to distinguish between valid and inordinate worrying. Worry becomes inordinate when it begins to blind us to our true tasks and purposes. That can happen Hypochondriacs constantly worry about their health more than anything else. We had one priest at St. Meinrad—he’s now deceased—who worried all the time about his health. Supposedly he had a different doctor for each day of the week and he had to see each of them regularly. Each Christmas season we have a party for all the doctors who serve members of the St. Meinrad community. The monks would joke that after that priest died, the number at the doctors’ party decreased by half. We’ve had other worriers who were almost incapable of doing any job at all.

We aren’t talking about anything sinful here. Excessive worrying is a psychological disease and often not a matter of willfulness at all. But we are speaking about the importance of good mental health in a sound approach to the gospel message. Good mental health is important in being able to respond to Jesus call to the Kingdom of God. And each of us has a responsibility to check ourselves with regard to mental health. That too can be a part of Jesus’ message to make the Kingdom of God first in our lives.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 7th Sunday in Ordinary Time

2011-02-20T16:31:00.001-05:00

Readings: Lev 19:1-18; 1 Cor 3:16-23; Mt 5:38-48

In 1966, when I was a deacon at St. Meinrad, I had the opportunity of attending a conference for university students at the University of Chicago. Thousands of students from all over the mid-West attended. The topic was on the morality of the war growing in Vietnam. One of the featured speakers was John Howard Yoder, a world-famous Mennonite scholar. Yoder, in true Mennonite fashion, espoused a total pacifism as the only viable Christian response to the war. He took literally and radically the words of Jesus in today’s gospel passage: "offer no resistance to one who is evil." His presentation to the students followed that line of thinking; to him the only Christian response to the Vietnam war lay in total pacifism and non-violent resistance. In the question-and-answer session that followed a student rose and asked him: "if you were walking down the street with your wife and your young son in her arms, and a man came and attempted to grab the child from her, would you try to stop him?" Without a hesitation or a flinch Yoder said, "No." There followed a gigantic gasp through the whole audience. Yoder went on to explain that the radical pacifism of Jesus sometime demands radical actions from his followers. One of the other speakers at the conference was Henry Kissinger, who didn’t quite take the same view as Yoder. Kissinger focused more on the country’s responsibility toward international justice and the need to use force if necessary.

More than anything else the students came away from that conference with the sense that it’s really, really hard to balance the Christian (and political) issues of striving for peace on the one hand, and the responsibility of justice on the other. Those have always remained very, very difficult issues and balances throughout Christian history. At no time did Christians ever attain a perfect balance. In hindsight they weighted the scale in one direction or the other.

How do we find our way today? In our position on the wars being waged by the United States in Iraq and Afghanistan? In the debate over capital punishment? In public issues like health care funding for the poor and the unemployed or immigration or the environment? There’s always that elusive balance between peace, love and justice. All need to be considered honestly and openly.

One direction might be given us by that terse line in the first reading from the book of Leviticus: "Be holy, for I the Lord your God, am holy." We should remember that the original meaning of holy (KADOSH in Hebrew) is not being morally good. It’s true that a common interpretation of "holy" that developed through the centuries in Christian spirituality understood "holy" in a primarily moral sense. The holy person was someone who did every thing morally correct, who was always good. The images of saints on holy cards strongly fostered that view. But the original meaning of "holy" is unique, special, different. So the meaning should read: "You should be different and unique, because I am different and unique." The actions of Christians should be different from all others around them, from the prevailing societal norms. Christians and their moral positions should be clearly different from what most of society holds.

In that sense the Christian position on any moral and social issue is to be counter-cultural. But that’s still very vague. It means leaning more to the side of love and peace, while still recognizing the justice factor. I think the Catholic Christian positions on moral issues through the ages have always struggled with that difficult balance. They leaned sometimes toward love and peace, sometimes toward justice. If anything, this reflection ought to remind us to be respectful of people who are making difficult moral decisions. People can always use some encouragement rather than criticism. Let’s remember that when we are advising people who are making difficult moral decisions.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 6th Sunday in Ordinary Time

2011-02-13T13:57:00.000-05:00

Readings: Sir 15:15-20; 1 Cor 2:6-10; Mt 5:17-37

This past week a very fascinating article appeared in the February issue of U.S. Catholic about the relationship between science and religion. It really begins to stretch the mind when you start thinking about the immense vastness of space and time. "Scientists agree on these facts. The big bang occurred some 13.7 billion years ago and 4.6 billion years ago our solar system was formed. The sun is 93 million miles away. Light travels at over 186 thousand miles a second and a light year is the distance light travels in a (calendar) year. The Milky Way (our galaxy) is so big that at light speed it takes 100,000 years to leap from rim to rim. There are more than 100 billion galaxies in the known universe. .... If we can imagine all of cosmic history compressed into one (calendar) year, with the Big Bang as January 1st ... All of recorded human history occurs in the last three seconds of Dec. 31." (February, 2011, p. 18) The immensity of the numbers and the distances just blows your mind. And it all makes one have second thoughts about what we are referring to, when we say the word, "God." We should remember that later in this Eucharist when we will pray together, "We believe in one God....maker of heaven and earth."

It’s that same kind of mind-stretching that St. Paul challenges his readers to consider in the second reading we just heard from his First Letter to the Corinthians. We can presume that the great majority of Paul’s Corinthian readers were people who came from a Greco-Roman background, in which there was widespread belief in a multitude of gods—gods who influence just about every aspect of daily life, a multitude of gods who preside over every place in one’s house—the doorway, the windows, the fireplace, the kitchen. In response to that, Paul is saying that Christians worship only one god and this one god is bigger than we can possibly imagine. He even offers a quote which is one of the most famous passages of the New Testament: "Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, neither has it even entered into the human mind what God has prepared for those who love Him." God is much, much more than we can ever imagine.

One thing that has really puzzled New Testament scholars is: who exactly is Paul quoting? Nowhere else in the Ancient literature can that quotation be found. Now it’s possible that the document has simply been lost to historical record. But it’s also possible that Paul just made it up himself. He wouldn’t have been the first nor the last author to have done that. In the end it really doesn’t matter. It’s a wonderful passage and we know what Paul intends to convey by it. God is greater than anything we can possibly imagine or think.

It’s a lesson we have to learn over and over. In the generations before Vatican II there was often a tendency for many Catholics to have a very small view of God. God was constantly nosy—always looking over our shoulder for anything, anything we might do wrong. Thankfully the whole experience of the council replaced that with a much larger view of God, with a God who was always encouraging and inviting us to move forward, to enrich ourselves, to improve. That change was a blessing! Sometimes today it seems we are often failing in the opposite direction, again with a view of God that is too little. We imagine that God really doesn’t care that much what we do day to day. We really don’t think there’s any urgency about attending to the improvement of our spiritual lives—there’s plenty of time for that. That’s also a vision of God that’s too little. I’m always reminded of that whenever I pray the words of one of the Weekday Prefaces of the mass: "You have no need of our praise, and yet our desire to thank you is itself your gift." God is much larger than we can ever imagine, but this God has also placed within us that impulse to improve and enrich our faith. We should ever find inspiration in that closing line of St. Paul’s "quotation": "Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, neither has it even entered into the human mind what God has prepared for those who love Him."

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 5th Sunday in Ordinary Time

2011-02-06T16:05:00.001-05:00

Readings: Is 58:7-10; 1 Cor 2:1-5; Mt 5:13-16

Wow! It’s been quite a week. We certainly have had our fair share of natural adversity to deal with this past week. Already on Tuesday morning, when round one of the ice storm was upon us, I e-mailed Fr. Bede that this was the worst weather situation I had seen in the ten and a half years that I’ve been here. I suspect that a lot of you could say the same. When we are faced with severe adversity, our first goal is survival, just to make it through with as little damage as possible. Sometimes we have to summon and focus all of our strength and abilities to accomplish that. There’s nothing wrong with that, even if it takes away from some of our regular daily practices—including prayer. Survival is a human value, and it is a spiritual value.

I had the same reaction when I first read through today’s scripture selection from the prophet Isaiah: "Then you shall call and the Lord will answer, You shall cry for help, and he will say, ‘Here I am.’" Sometimes I think we forget just how much of the Bible was written in desperate times. Most of the prophetic literature was composed during threats of foreign invasions, the actual approach of armies, or the tremendous social conflict that took place in the land of Israel itself. The same applies to most of the historical works of the Old Testament. Even in the New Testament evidence of desperate times abounds. The Gospels of Mark, Matthew and John all reflect situations of peril that the early followers of Jesus were experiencing. Many of the New Testament letters also were composed during times of great social conflict and turmoil. Just having had to deal with impending adversities and possibly disasters as we recently did should give us an insight into their state of mind.

Now it’s true that the type of potential catastrophes differed considerably. They were facing human-made crises, while we were coping with natural phenomena. In spite of that difference the state of mind that a potential crisis evokes remains essentially the same---a survival state of mind. In such a state of mind one doesn’t react as one might in an ordinary day-to-day situation. Somewhere in society that state of mind is always around. A famous homiletics teacher once said to a group of seminarians: "Every Sunday when you stand up to deliver your homily, approximately ten percent of your congregation is currently in some crisis situation. They will understand anything you say through that particular lens."

What is a crisis state of mind? It means you use more of your time and energy dealing with matters that will help you to survive. Like we all were doing last Tuesday evening—making sure there was enough food and water, checking all our battery-powered appliances and flashlights, gathering extra blankets and heavy clothing, and so on. Even within my house I spent much of Tuesday attending to matters like that. And, oh yes, a lot more time watching weather reports on television, even though they were often repeating the same things said just a few minutes before. The ancient Israelites did the same things—gathering supplies, checking escape routes and just talking with neighbors and people in the market places about the chances of an invasion by the Assyrians.

I think one of the key things to remember is that when you are in a crisis state of mind (survival mode), you don’t attend to your regular responsibilities with the same mental sharpness that you ordinarily would. You miss things you would ordinarily notice. You are not as attentive to others as you usually are. Even spiritually your prayer life suffers. You don’t have the urgency of mind to bring to it. We need to give ourselves a little leeway in all this. We shouldn’t criticize ourselves too sharply for slips in these regards. It’s good for us to remember: Survival is a human value, and a spiritual value.

Jesus' February Message

2011-02-01T14:11:00.002-05:00

Dearest apostles, I am here, waiting to listen to your pleas. I hear your hearts as they groan in the loneliness of serving heaven when around you others do not serve heaven. You serve alongside those who either live according to the standards of the world or live serving out a call that is different from yours. Truly, I know that there are times when you wonder why I have placed you where I have placed you. I hope, dear apostles, that these times are brief. I hope that you will spend less time wondering why you are serving in a given role and more time wondering how to serve more completely in the role given to you. You see, comparisons to others will never bear fruit. You are unique. The work I have for you is unique and you must beware of the habit of dragging your vocation behind you as though it were something so heavy that it destroyed your joy. This is not how an apostle lives out a vocation. An apostle views his vocation as a prism through which opportunities for holiness and joy splash out in countless beautiful and varied ways. Truly, others should view you and your vocation as inseparable. You should become your vocation. Oh dear apostles, I know that you carry crosses associated with your holy vocations, but do you not see that these crosses, carried with dignity, illustrate My presence in your life and indeed in the world more than anything else? In every circumstance, I bless you and receive you into My heart where you find the direction and reassurance you require. In every moment there is grace available for you and for others through you. The more grace I flow through you, the more the world is blessed and the more you are sanctified. Move toward Me, closer and closer in your hearts and in your actions and, truly, the world will find the love it craves. Look at how God’s children drink in kindness, as though they were parched for want of it. Yes, you are sacrificing in order to answer My call but the plan is working and the world is being renewed through the efforts of all men of good will. Rejoice then, despite your cross. We are advancing the one righteous cause, that is, the cause of love.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 4th Sunday in Ordinary Time

2011-01-30T15:48:00.002-05:00

Readings: Zeph 2:3—3:12-13; 1 Cor 1:26-32; Mt 5:1-12

It seems that "being poor" is the theme that runs through all three of today’s readings. The prophet Zephaniah speaks to the "humble of the earth," "the remnant," those who have very little. Then Paul writes to the Corinthian community, calling them "not wise," "not powerful," "the lowly and despised of the world who count for nothing." And in the gospel passage Jesus begins his Sermon on the Mount with the famous words, "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven." The theme of "being poor" appears in many guises through these three selections.

What exactly does "being poor" mean? How should we understand it today? In this country we have a standard economic indicator, the "poverty level," which is set each year by the United States Department of Health and Human Services according to personal income and the number of persons in the household. But that reduces "being poor" to a statistical measurement and that doesn’t satisfy most people. In this country people would rather go by the impression about the general living conditions that people reside in and the basic necessities of life they have available to them. By that indicator neither your monastery or mine would qualify as "being poor." We certainly aren’t "poor" compared to the inner city folks here in Indianapolis or those people who live in cabins in the Appalachian mountains, those groups who constitute many of the "poor" of our country. And yet even they would be considered well-off compared to the numerous homeless refugees in Sudan or those living in tent cities in Haiti. What does "being poor" really mean? And should we aspire to it? Maybe we could turn it into an inner attitude, with some meaning like "unattached to things." Then we could put more emphasis on the "poor in spirit." But that makes too sharp a division between body and soul, which never would have happened in the Hebrew or Aramaic languages that Jesus probably used. In addition, it is not entirely clear whether the phrase "poor in spirit" should be taken in a positive or negative sense. In a positive sense it would indicate a good condition of life, something to be striven for. Taken negatively, it could indicate a downtrodden and depressed situation which a person can’t escape from and from which one could only be redeemed through the mercy of God. Hmmm. We haven’t come very far in trying to answer our question: what exactly does "being poor" mean?

Perhaps that’s precisely the point of Jesus’ words. They are like a rabbinic teaching lesson—where the whole goal is to get the listener involved and engaged in the process of interpretation. A rabbinic teacher will not give a straight and direct answer to any question. Rather he will quote one rabbinic authority, and then another, and then another, and then another. Sometimes the quotations directly contradict each other. We would say, "Wait a minute! That’s not a very clear answer." But the rabbinic teacher won’t budge. He doesn’t want to give you the answer. For someone who sees things in black and white, this is not very satisfying. But that’s the Rabbinic process of education. Religious education consists in more than just the transfer of information. The educational process consists in getting you to engage the material and come to your own answer after seriously considering and evaluating the available information and opinions.

So the best response we can make to hearing the words of the Beatitudes would be to seriously and deeply ask ourselves: what does "poor in spirit" really mean to me? Then, how do I see it reflected in my life? What does "to be meek" mean? In our general language and understanding meekness doesn’t usually count as a positive personal quality. And what about "to mourn?" How is that a part of my life? Such considerations are, I think, the kind of response that Jesus wanted his disciples to make, and he wants all of us to make. In fact, it might be worthwhile for all of us to consider making the Beatitudes the focus of our reflection and our lectio today.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time

2011-01-23T14:28:00.001-05:00

Readings: Is 8:23-9:3; 1 Cor 1:10-17; Mt 4:12-17

The first reading from Isaiah gives us a prophecy that the lands of Zebulon and Naphtali (northern tribes of Israel) were punished by their enslavement under the kingdom of Assyria. But later they have been delivered, "they have seen a great light," and God has smashed the yoke that burdened them. This seems to be a clear reference to some definite historical events. The Assyrian king, Tiglath-pileser III, overran the northern sections of Israel around 733BC and his control over them lasted until his death six years later. A power struggle then ensued within the Assyrian kingdom and in the lull that followed Isaiah probably spoke his prophecy. But the lull was brief and five years later the entire northern kingdom of Israel was overthrown and disappeared forever.

What is especially interesting for our reflection is how in today’s gospel the evangelist Matthew has taken that prophecy of Isaiah and turned it into a foretelling of Christ. When Matthew uses this passage to describe the ministry and preaching of Jesus, he is asserting that Jesus is a great light to all the nations. This serves as a marvelous example of how the Catholic tradition has seen a close connection between the Old and New Testaments. Within the Old Testament are all these hints and suggestions that only find their fulfillment and answer in the New Testament (DV #16) The great light that shone on Zebulon and Naphtali was a harbinger of the still greater light that shone forth in Jesus Christ.

For that light of Christ to shine forth in our own time it needs to do so through intermediary channels: preaching, personal example, multiple media and the word of the Bible. Many years ago St. Jerome wrote that "Ignorance of the Scriptures is ignorance of Christ." (Commentary on Isaiah, ##1-2) What an ironic situation we find ourselves in right now. In the 1960s the Second Vatican Council threw the doors wide open and encouraged all Catholics to become familiar with the Bible, to study it, to read it for spiritual nourishment, to let it truly become a beacon of Christ for them. Alas, what has happened in the last forty-five years? Let me read you a short passage from a recent op-ed page in Commonweal magazine. The author, a priest who has taught at a Catholic college for many years, first describes his own pre-Vatican II religious training. Back then no one read the Bible directly either at home or at school. But they did learn a lot of its content from the Bible History and Salvation History books they studied. They knew and could talk about the great events recounted in the Bible. Then he writes: "The college students I teach today are no less bright than we were, but they are largely ignorant of Scripture. At the beginning of a recent semester, a student told me there were five gospels, though he couldn’t name one of them. When I asked one of my classes what happened at Cana, only two of the twenty-four students had ever heard of the story—and even those two couldn’t say anything about it." (Jan. 14, 2011, p. 31) His conclusion laments that we have largely squandered a great opportunity to let the light of Christ shine forth.

The problem of scriptural ignorance on the part of Catholics today results from many issues. For one thing, it is not easy for the average person to read and understand the various books of the Bible. Last Thursday, as I was preparing for mass in the Health Care Center, several of the residents were sitting in the room early, waiting for mass to begin. They were talking about the Bible. One of the ladies said, "Thirty years ago someone gave me a Bible. I read a little of it, but couldn’t understand anything. So I put it away." Reading the bible is a skill that needs to be learned and nurtured.

This is not going to be an easy challenge for the Church to tackle, but it’s a necessary one. I would suggest that each of us might consider doing our part. Perhaps as a different kind of Lenten resolution this year, we might think about helping someone else come to a better appreciation of the Bible....and so let the light of Christ shine forth.

Roe vs. Wade...a reflection by Sr. Kathleen Yeadon

2011-01-22T10:05:00.002-05:00

Readings Isaiah 57:15-19
John 20:19-23

Today is the anniversary of Roe vs. Wade, the Supreme Court decision to legalize abortion.

Jesus, You are the Word of Life,
The Alpha and Omega,
The Source of all life.

Let us Pray: Creator of all Life
You made us in your image and we have desecrated the dignity of so many lives.
Renew in our days, the awe of the sanctity of life. Give us hearts that reach out to others without condemnation but your compassion. We ask this through Jesus the merciful one.

38 years of legalized abortion—an industry that permeates so many lives. We have no clue how it saturates the thinking of our country. Does anything have worth—that does not benefit us? Are we willing to be inconvenienced? Is pleasure the highest ranking value in our country?

Our readings today speak of God extending forgiveness to the world in the midst of drowning in fear and sin. We as religious sisters have an incredible opportunity to be sources of forgiveness in the world. We also have the opportunity to model self-sacrifice and right judgment.

We can also be caught up in fear and apathy. How is God using you to be a light in the world? Today—extend peace to yourself, each other and to the world—ever so quietly.

For our country—that we willing look at the true nature of the evil of abortion,
We pray to the Lord...

For all who work with women in crisis pregnancies. We pray to the Lord...

For all who have suffered with the sin of abortion—that they may find the forgiveness and healing they seek. We pray to the Lord...

For all aborted babies—that their deaths bring an end to this horrible industry. We pray to the Lord...

8th Graders Serve at the Cathedral Soup Kitchen

2011-01-18T20:07:00.005-05:00

My experience at the soup kitchen this time was similar to last time in many ways. This time I went with Lynn and Sara. While there I worked at the drink station serving apple juice and a variety of other drinks to the people coming in. If there was anything that was similar to last time it would be the number of people who came in there. I was absolutely amazed at how many people were there. If I were to guess I would say most were men, although I did see a couple women every now and then. I will tell you this much I had never seen people as hungry as they were. While working at the drink station, I noticed some people come by and pick up two or three drinks. That really got me wondering how many times they ate a week compared to us. Another thing I noticed is how messy a job like this could get. Altogether I would say Lynn, Sara and I spilled drinks about ten times. I would say things ended up getting at least a bit messy. In my opinion, it really does not matter how messy you get or how messy things get. What matters in the end is the satisfaction you know you did a good job, helped others, and most of all followed your vocation of knowing, loving and serving God.
(Matthew D.)

This was my second time going to the Soup Kitchen. This time there wasn’t as many people volunteering like last time but it was still fun. One thing I noticed this time was that I saw more women than last time. I noticed that there were a few more different faces than last time. I was in charge of the Italian salad and fruit salad.

One thing I just love to see are the smiling faces of the people I serve at the soup kitchen. It just gives me this good feeling. When leaving the soup kitchen I have a good feeling inside that I have done something good for a person in need.
(Sara C.)

My second trip to the soup kitchen was similar to my first trip. The main difference was that there were more people than the first time I went. I think there were more people because it was in the winter, and they needed more food. Most of the people I saw there were the same as I saw the first time. The message I got from going the second time was no different than the one I got the first time. The message I received was how lucky I am to have a house, food, and all of the other things I have.
(Lynn J.)

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 2nd Sunday in Ordinary Time

2011-01-16T13:26:00.002-05:00

Readings: Is 49:3-6; 1 Cor 1:1-3; Jn 1:29-34

We have begun a season of Ordinary Time, which we will be with for the next seven Sundays. Then will come the special season of Lent. The Church’s Liturgical Year is divided into Festal seasons, Ordinary Time, and Saints’ feasts. The Festal seasons, like Christmas and Easter, celebrate the great Mysteries of Christ’s life. Ordinary Time is dedicated to applying the significance and import of those mysteries to our own daily lives. The Saints feasts are scattered among both the festal and ordinary seasons as examples of people who have applied the Christian mysteries in their lives.

By their very nature the seasons of Ordinary Time turn around the practical, daily aspects of living the Christian faith. I must admit that I personally like those spiritual writers who have that gift for seeing the Holy, the Mystery in ordinary situations of life. They have the special ability of seeing God’s grace at work in not just the ordinary, but sometimes the less pleasing aspects of life. I mentioned a couple of homilies ago that I’m currently reading Fr. Matthew Kelty’s Gethsemani Homilies. Fr. Kelty clearly possesses a great love for the monastic life, while at the same time acknowledging its numerous foibles. He has a gift for spotting the sacred in the ordinary. Listen to a few gems: "Once after supper at recreation several years ago I said to gruff, old Fr. Weyland, ‘It’s a lovely day.’ He growled back at me, ‘Every day is lovely.’ He might be right. All that comes from God is lovely, and we are thankful for all." (p. 21) "When we think thoughts of mercy, or pardon and forgiveness, we live in a climate of love by choice. As Christians we take pains to express this any way we can. The healing of a wound is not the mere application of a dressing or the taking of a few pills. Every aspect of body and soul is involved." (p. 17) "Dorothy Day saw as much of the seamy side of life as many and far more than most. She asked for only two words on her tombstone: Deo Gratias. Thanks be to God." (p. 22) But I really like to go back to Fr. Kelty’s question: Do we make a decision to live in a "climate of love by choice?" That means choosing to think thoughts of mercy, pardon and forgiveness. Every time that we do is an occasion for grasping the holy in the ordinary.

When I think about the holy in the ordinary, I’m reminded of an episode that happened about twenty years ago back at my monastery. One of the main switchboard operators for the monastery was a young woman, a wife and mother of two. By a series of unusual circumstances I wound up being the one who would proofread this novel she was trying to write. She would send me a chapter; I would proof it; then go down to the main switchboard when she was working and go through my suggested revisions. As things turned out, she eventually gave up on writing the novel. (It was a steamy women’s romance story, and she was becoming afraid that her eleven year old daughter might find it sometime.) But one time we were just talking about a variety of things and she began telling me about this project she and a cousin of hers were undertaking, trying to reconstruct a family tree. She said that from time to time as she was working on this, she would have a sudden remembrance of a passage in one of the gospels that reflected what she was doing. I became intrigued as I listened, and finally I said, "Joanie, I think you can get that published as an article." It took some convincing (and the offer of my ghostwriting it with her), but she got it done and published. It was a marvelous melding of a practical, everyday action (researching a family tree) with a particular slant of how Jesus lives in our memories. It was a true example of the holy in the ordinary. (I’ll put a copy of her article in the back after mass.)

The challenge for each of us in this season of Ordinary Time is to discover "the holy in the ordinary" in our lives. It’s to ask ourselves every day if this day is one in which I live "in a climate of love by choice?" Today is a good day to begin.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for The Baptism of the Lord

2011-01-09T12:50:00.003-05:00

Readings: Is 42:1-7; Acts 10:34-38; Matt 3:13-17

There is no doubt that the Second Vatican Council back in the 1960s was a significant turning point and advancement for Catholic teaching and life. So many things changed as a result of that grand council. For example, our whole understanding of the sacrament of Baptism, which really originated with the baptism of Jesus which we celebrate today, was immeasurably broadened from the recent past understandings. One of the most significant results flowing from that broadening was a changed relationship in the attitude of the Catholic Church towards other Christian churches. As many of you will remember, there had been nothing but feelings of antagonism between the Catholic Church and the churches which split from it in the Protestant Reformation in the 16th century. Indeed, in the history of the United States there had been a great deal of hostility between Catholics and other Christians. It was one of the expressed concerns of Pope John XXIII to change that situation. The Council set about doing just that.

I’d like to read you one of the most relevant passages from the Council’s document on Ecumenism:

"For all those who believe in Christ and have been truly baptized are in communion with the Catholic Church even though this communion is imperfect. The differences that exist in varying degrees between them and the Catholic Church—whether in doctrine and sometimes in discipline, or concerning the structure of the Church—do indeed create many obstacles, sometimes serious ones, to full ecclesiastical communion. The ecumenical movement is striving to overcome these obstacles. But even in spite of them it remains true that all who have been justified by faith in Baptism are members of Christ's body(5) and have a right to be called Christian, and so are correctly accepted as brothers and sisters by the members of the Catholic Church.(6)" (UR #3, 22)

There’s no doubt that the Church Fathers and especially Pope John XXIII wanted a new relationship to emerge between Catholics and members of other Christian churches, a relationship of mutual appreciation and cooperation. By and large a lot of that has occurred in the last forty plus years. Still it takes a long time for a four hundred year old attitude to completely change, and we are still "in the process" with a lot of work remaining. Through it all one point that we must continually go back to and remind ourselves is that we have all been justified by faith and Baptism into Christ’s body. We still need a lot of prayer and effort in this area, and it’s an important one.

To help change that new attitude into reality, the Church subsequently made some major changes in the area of sacramental sharing with members of other Christian communities. Those were published in the Church’s Ecumenical Directory (1993). Here’s one directive that very few Catholics in the pew know about (or even a lot of priests):

"In certain circumstances access to these sacraments (Eucharist, reconciliation and anointing) may be permitted or even recommended for Christians of other Churches and ecclesial communities.(#129 - 1993)."

Some of those pre-eminent circumstances are explicitly ecumenical gatherings. You have a number of those here at Our Lady of Grace in your Oblate program, in the Women Touched by Grace programs, as well as many others. These are all opportunities where we can profess the common baptism in Christ which joins us together. That’s one of the things we celebrate this feast of the Baptism of the Lord.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for Epiphany

2011-01-02T15:31:00.002-05:00

Readings: Is 60:1-6; Eph 3:2-6; Mt 2:1-12

The feast of Epiphany is the same feast as Christmas. Christmas originated in the Western Latin-speaking half of the Roman Empire in the fourth century; Epiphany arose around the same time in the Eastern Greek-speaking half of the empire. But they celebrate the same event. Later church calendars included both of them because they stressed different aspects of the one event. Christmas accents the birth of Jesus Christ according to the flesh; while Epiphany proclaims the manifestation of God’s salvation to all the nations. They are one and the same event.

Epiphany often implies the revelation of something previously unknown. But that doesn’t always hold true. Sometimes Epiphany involves seeing a deeper level of truth to something that is already known. It can be an epiphany when something or someone that you have long taken for granted is now, for whatever the cause, seen as very special and precious. That harks back to what I mentioned yesterday—the value of deep reflection in our lives. Deep reflection can help us to appreciate real worth in something or someone that previously we took for granted. Epiphany can be either "seeing something totally new" or "re-valuing something already known."

I came across an example of the latter type in a book that I’m currently reading. It’s Pope Benedict XVI’s Light of the World: the Pope, the Church and the Signs of the Times—his interview with German news reporter Peter Seewald. It’s really a rather remarkable book, the first time a Catholic Pope has given an off-the-cuff interview to a news reporter. You have probably seen some mention of it in the news media, especially his controversial remarks on the use of condoms as a lesser evil. On the whole his comments on many topics were far more liberal than most people would have expected. Anyway. One point that really got me thinking were his comments about the notion of "progress." He says that we haven’t adequately explored the morality of progress. The Western world has adopted the idea of progress as an almost absolute norm. Everything has to be better this year than last year in every way. Pope Benedict takes issue with that. He says: "A major examination of conscience should begin today (about the notion of progress). What really is progress? Is it progress if I can destroy (something or someone)? Is it progress if I myself can make, select and dispose of human beings? How can progress be achieved ethically and humanely? .... This (progress) sort of thinking results in the claim that science is indivisible. This means that whatever one can do one must be allowed to do. Anything else would be contrary to freedom. Is that true? I think it is not true." (p. 44) The key idea here is that progress does not always mean doing more. Sometimes it can also mean "re-valuing something already known."

The book covers all sorts of topics, some of which are very surprising. You just don’t think often of a pope dealing with issues like the crisis of world environment or the problem of total human population. But the Holy Father realizes that we can’t keep expanding in population numbers indefinitely; there simply aren’t enough resources on earth. In many areas the human population is going to be pushed to re-valuing, downsizing and appreciating anew.

That is also something we might remember as we look forward to our New Year’s resolutions. More doesn’t always mean better. To pray better may actually mean to pray less (in terms of amount) but with more attention. There are many ways in which Epiphany calls us to the process of re-valuing: re-valuing our relationships, re-valuing our goals in life, re-valuing our sense of self-identity. And that might be the greatest lesson of all of this feast.

Jesus' January Message

2011-01-01T09:33:00.001-05:00

My friends, do you hear My voice? Can you feel My presence? I want to assure you that I am present. I desire to assure you of this so that you can be confident about the plan I have chosen for your life. I know that you feel temptations against the plan I have arranged for you. Perhaps not today, but on other days, or perhaps you experience this temptation every day. Perhaps you are suffering and you wonder why I allow this for you given that you feel you would be more productive without the crosses in your life. Consider for a moment what would have happened if I had rejected the cross and went on to preach. What would have remained after My life? Consider the absence of the Passion in the faith life that exists today. How can we preach the Gospel if we are unwilling to accept the crosses which inevitably accompany it? No, dearest friends. In order to accurately represent the Kingdom of God to others, we have to be willing to sacrifice, even to death in some cases. The glory of your work is seen in the souls of those whom you have touched directly or those who have been touched by others because you have agreed to My plan. My plan for you will bring the greatest benefit to those suffering loneliness and separation from joy. Such sadness! If you are serving Me, I thank you. If you are considering service to Me, I need you. If you are suffering great crosses because of your commitment to heaven, I rejoice in you. In all cases, I am with you. I urge you to believe this and live this truth. When you are finished with your time on earth you will gaze at My kingdom and view the benefits that you brought to it through your service. Life is not easy for any person and temptations come to all. Be assured that you can use My strength when you feel weak. You will not always feel conviction but you must live conviction. I will ignite fires of love through you if you do this for Me. Do not be afraid of your human struggle because it is through this struggle that others see the force of the One who works through you.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the Solemnity of Mary

2011-01-01T09:00:00.001-05:00

Readings: Num 6:22-27; Gal 4:4-7; Lk 2:16-21

The gospels don’t give us a great deal of information about Mary, the mother of Jesus. However, the glimpses that they do give us can have great value. One passage about Mary that I have always personally liked very much was in today’s gospel selection: "Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart." There must have been many, many things about her son that led her to think deeply about who he was and what he was about. Mary presents to us a model of a deep, spiritually reflective person.

The Western European tradition all the way back to the ancient Greeks held the practice of reflective thinking in high esteem. The philosopher Socrates said, "The unexamined life is not worth living." After Socrates, Plato and Aristotle both considered metaphysics to be the highest of human activities. By reflective thinking they meant the mental effort to discern the exact causes of anything that happens, to see the relationships between things, to explore the effects of human actions and through all these kinds of examinations to understand the deeper meanings of things, people and events. And that’s what Mary did. She kept all the events of Jesus’ life, ministry and teaching in her heart and reflected upon them. Rightly does the Church call her "the first follower of Christ," and in this regard "the Mother of all the Church in the order of grace." (L.G. #61) It’s also why Mary is such an appropriate model for monastic men and women.

Deep reflection, Mary and monasticism go together. I think that’s one reason there’s so often a special devotion to Mary among monastic men and women and why there are so many Marian shrines at monasteries. I came across that in an unusual place the other day. I’m currently in the process of reviewing a book for the American Benedictine Review. The book is Gethsemani Homilies by Fr. Matthew Kelty, a monk of Gethsemani Abbey in Kentucky. In addition to the homilies there’s an extended question and answer interview with Fr. Matthew by the editor of the collection. Fr. Matthew was first ordained in 1946 as a Divine Word priest and spent fifteen years in missionary work, mainly in New Guinea, before joining the Cistercians. In the interview Fr. Matthew talks about the monastic life being so conducive to thinking deeply with its times of quiet and solitude. That’s something his active life as a missionary did not give him—time to reflect deeply. His life at Gethsemani did give him that opportunity that he so greatly desired.

Some of Fr. Matthew’s most interesting comments concerned vocations. (Fr. Matthew was 93 years old when he gave the interview.) In his view vocations to the monastic life have declined because more and more young people have never developed the capacity to think deeply. Their imaginations are overwhelmed by constant media input and output. "They get constant input....more and more of it from dawn to dusk. There is no silence, no time to ponder or reflect on anything and in that context religion dies." (p.xxxv) When you think about teenagers sending hundreds of text messages a day and receiving just as many----to say nothing of time spent on the phone, using computers, watching TV, listening to their iPods----you begin to understand why the reflectiveness necessary for this way of life is something they really have no experience of.

Mary, the mother of Jesus, remains a standard of holy, prayerful reflective thought. She should be that kind of an example for us. Let us celebrate her for that today.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the Feast of the Holy Family

2010-12-27T21:48:00.002-05:00

Readings: Sir 3:2-14; Col 3:12-21; Mt 7:2-23

About two weeks ago my niece, Melissa, had her third baby—a little girl named Ally Rose. In the days following the birth all kinds of pictures appeared on her Facebook account showing a smiling mother and father, the new baby, and her two older brothers, ages two and four, totally entranced with the newest member of the family. The little boys were exploring her fingers, toes and ears. They were pictures of family togetherness at its finest hour. But hearing confessions, as I have often done in this past Advent season, shows another picture of family life. That picture shows the struggles and temptations of people to remain faithful to their promises to each other; it shows the effort needed to regain an honest communication; it shows the difficulty of extending forgiveness as well as asking for forgiveness. This second picture gives ample evidence of all the stresses on family life. The feast of the Holy Family was meant to encourage families of all kinds, including those who are struggling.

The feast of the Holy Family is a relative late-comer to the Church’s Liturgical year. It seems to have originated in Canada in the 1880s or 1890s. Its express purpose was to support and encourage struggling families who were continuing to emigrate to Canada from all over the world. As always, immigrants then had to encounter many challenges to move their families and find the necessities of life to maintain them. Pope Leo XIII liked the feast and in 1893 had it inserted into the Church’s Liturgical Year.

I think it’s important that we should see and understand this feast in relation to struggling families as well as happy families. Too often the feast gets made into some unreachable ideal; that winds up causing more guilt than anything else. It’s instructive that the gospel passage for this feast relates the story of the Flight into Egypt and all the attendant reasons surrounding it. The life of their child is being threatened and so this young couple runs away to another land. They faced a dangerous journey with many hardships. We can only imagine the fears and worries they had in undertaking this trip. There must have been many hardships: coming to a strange place, where people spoke a different language, trying to find a suitable place to live and work that would support them for as long as needed. The Holy Family endured many stresses and dangers in becoming the Holy Family. That was one of the primary reasons why this feast was begun.

In fact, this day would be a good occasion for us to remember the approximately 220 million people who are immigrants in the world today. I took the occasion to look up some information on the International Organization for Migration’s website. That intergovernmental organization was begun in 1951. It seeks to provide just policies for the treatment of immigrants in all countries. The need is overwhelming, and they admit that their efforts meet all sorts of obstruction from various countries. Many reasons drive immigration: the need for work, fleeing from war or oppression, the need for food, the need for housing or education. There are a lot of immigrant people in this world who need all the encouragement and help they can get.

The example of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph having to flee for their lives into a foreign land tries to give strength and courage to millions of today’s immigrants. But we are the ones who should examine ourselves to consider the kind of welcome, support and help that we give to newcomers in our midst—they are reflections of the Holy Family in our midst today.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Christmas Homily

2010-12-25T17:09:00.003-05:00

Readings: Is 52:7-10; Heb 1:1-4; Jn 1:1-18

There are two levels of meaning in the Christmas story. The first is the story of Jesus’ human birth; this is recounted in the Nativity narratives in Matthew and Luke’s gospels. They tell of the trip of a young couple to Bethlehem in Judea, finding lodging only in a stable where the young woman gives birth to her first child. The second level of meaning comes from John’s gospel, especially in the passage we just heard. This gospel tells us that this is not just a human birth like any other; this is a divine event. The very Word of God became flesh and dwelt among us. This small, seemingly insignificant child reveals the glory of the Mystery of God. This is value beyond all telling. This is the greatest event that could ever happen.

Our task is to hold those two levels of meaning together and intermesh them. Now the first we can easily understand and handle. Everyday—somewhere in this world of ours—there are still young women who are giving birth in stables or even worse dwellings; there are young couples having a child in poor circumstances. We can understand that. The second level of meaning is a lot harder to encompass and much more difficult to relate to the first level: that this humble birth is actually THE message that the Mystery of God, the source of all creation, wants to tell us. That message is contained in this small child’s birth.

The only way to combine these two levels of meaning is by an act of faith. The intellectual distance between the two levels of meaning can only be spanned by an act of trust that is infused with love. The very meaning of Christmas sees the birth of Jesus Christ as a free gift of God’s love, although the full depth of that love would not be revealed until Easter and the Resurrection. It is the act of love which holds together the two levels of meaning in the Christmas story, an act of love that becomes an act of faith.

Faith stands as the hard thing for many to come by today. An intriguing article appeared in last Monday’s USA Today newspaper (Dec. 20, 2010, A1). It said that 90% of Americans celebrate Christmas, but only 60% see a religious meaning in the day. For one in three Americans Christmas is a yearly occasion to visit the family, exchange gifts with friends, to eat and drink...often to excess. Nothing more. Even for those for whom the day does have a religious meaning, the exact content of that meaning is not always very clear. People get no help from the general culture. Christmas in United States society is increasingly becoming a secular holiday. Fewer and fewer crib scenes are evident. They have been replaced by Santa Clauses, who are everywhere. Advertising programming never uses a religious carol. The advertisements hint openly that it’s almost an obligation to give gifts. Of course, that’s something driven by pure commercialism. The very definition of a gift is something that is freely given.

Our challenge this Christmas is to appreciate and proclaim the Christian faith dimension of the feast. The first faith dimension affirms the intrinsic and ultimate value of each and every human person. The proclamation that the very Mystery of God became flesh in a small child, born to relatively unknown parents in an out-of-the-way part of the world testifies that every human being has ultimate worth in the eyes of God....and should have in ours as well. The second faith dimension of this feast is the primacy of love over everything else in our world. It is the love of God that bestows the very gift of God’s presence in the birth and life and death of this little child. Every single one of us is loved and valued in God’s eyes. That’s what we proclaim this Christmas feast. Let’s celebrate it!

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 4th Sunday in Advent

2010-12-19T16:26:00.002-05:00

Readings: Is 7:10-14; Rom 1:1-7; Mt 1:18-24

In this last week before the feast of Christmas the gospel passages at mass will recount all the stories surrounding the birth of Jesus Christ. They are stories that most of us have all heard many, many times. But they are worth re-telling each year. I think it’s important for all of us to remember that each and every year there are some members of our Catholic community who are hearing the stories for the very first time. For them the manner of telling the stories proves extremely important. The Catholic priest and writer, Fr. Andrew Greeley, has stated often that the most important theological teaching moment in the entire Catholic tradition happens when a mother takes her young son or daughter up to the Christmas manger for the very first time. She points out the baby Jesus lying in the manger and then she points out the baby’s mother, Mary, looking carefully and lovingly at the child Jesus. And she says, "That’s the way God loves each one of us—like a caring mother." That’s a powerful thought. Scenes like that will happen all over the world this Christmas season. They will happen in parishes all across this city.

That’s one of the most telling reasons why we, who have heard the Christmas stories so many times, need to hear them each year with renewed reverence. In so doing we contribute to the general reverence surrounding those teaching moments to the little ones who are learning it for the very first time. We don’t just hear the surface story, but we look for the deeper meanings within them. The older we get the more we need to do so.

Why do we need to look for deeper meanings the older we get? Simply because each year the weariness of life wears us down a little more. It does so for all of us. And if we let that go unchecked, it can bring us to the point where we doubt just about everything. Believe me, as someone who has given retreats all over this country to religious communities of men and women, to diocesan priests, to lay men and women—I can assure you that I have met a lot of people in each one of these settings who have been worn down by the weariness of life. It just crept up on them. Many times they never saw it coming. Then all of a sudden one day they realized that they didn’t believe in anything any more.

To prevent this from happening as we grow older, it’s necessary to cultivate anew each year a sense of "being surprised," an enthusiasm and excitement at the feast. One of the best ways to cultivate this sense of being surprised is by committing ourselves to someone or something passionately. And passionately is the key word. If we are passionate about some subject or person, we open our senses up to the unusual. We increase our capacity to be surprised. I was genuinely surprised this past week when I heard for the very first time a new Christmas carol that I hadn’t known about. It’s called "the first Canadian Christmas carol" or the "Huron Carol." It was written by one of the North American Martyrs, St. Jean de Brebeuf, in the Huron Indian language. You can look it up on the Internet. There’s one site that even gives some singing versions of it: first in its original Huron language, then a French translation, and finally an English version. That was something I found very, very exciting about the feast this year.

The readings we heard today also reflect a real passion. The prophet Isaiah writes with passion. St. Paul is always passionate. The Evangelist Matthew passionately proclaims that "God is with us." This Christmas many small children will passionately revel in the mystery and joy of the Christmas season. Let’s join them this year.

8th Graders Serve at the Cathedral Soup Kitchen

2010-12-15T05:45:00.000-05:00

Working at the soup kitchen was really cool. It wasn’t very hard work but I could tell it meant a lot to the people there. Most of the time I was doing jobs that was in the back, like carrying boxes and things like that. I served in the front, too. Everybody looked really happy. None of the people that came to eat were mean or bitter. Everybody seemed to know each other. It seemed more like a place to hang out with friends than a soup kitchen. Everyone said thank you and didn’t complain about the food. A lot of people used a lot of sugar on their cereal. I found out that they were probably dealing with an addiction. Almost everyone took some food with them when they left so they could eat it later. That just shows how hard it is to get a meal sometimes. I learned that I’m really lucky to have a house and a meal to eat everyday.
(Mark B.)

My reflection on the Cathedral Soup Kitchen, wow so much to say. Well, the first thing was that it was so much fun. I have never enjoyed volunteering as much as I did last Friday. Everyone there was just so nice. I can’t wait to go back again next year. To be honest when I first arrived I was pretty nervous. But I got over that really quick. All the volunteers helping simply welcomed me in like a family member. They were so nice. After we said a prayer Mark, Chandler, and I were assigned jobs to do. I was assigned to pass out watermelon. I’m not much of a watermelon eater but pretty much everyone there loved watermelon. Some people took at least 3 to 4 pieces at a time but later on put the extras in a bag for later. I think it is sad that there has to be people living on the streets and being homeless especially in this type of season. At the soup kitchen they had breakfast between 9-10 A.M. and just seeing people getting their food and asking me how I am with smiles on their faces was great. Everyone got along great. People were joking and laughing while eating and having a good time. At one point we ran out of coffee and one of the men eating breakfast volunteered to help carry the empty can out to get a new one, which was really nice to do. When I left the soup kitchen I felt so good inside that I had done something really good for someone, and lucky that I don’t have to worry about that kind of thing in my life.
(Sara C.)

My service at the Cathedral soup kitchen was just how I had expected it would be. I have been to a soup kitchen before and it was very similar to the one I went to with my family. It felt really good to help people that are in need. I am so glad that I got an opportunity to help people that are less fortunate. We often take for granted everything we have like food, shelter, and clothing. Homeless people often go without food, without a place to live, and sometimes the only clothes they have are the ones they are wearing. I feel very lucky that I got a chance to make a difference in the world.
(Chandler H.)

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 3rd Week of Advent

2010-12-12T17:21:00.002-05:00

Readings: Is 35:1-10; Jam 5:7-10; Mt 11:2-11

I’d like, first of all, to reflect on the difference between the first and second readings we just heard. They are very different in style and message. The first reading from the prophet Isaiah describes how perfect, how beautiful and how ideal will be the coming Day of the Lord. For the prophets of ancient Israel the Day of the Lord was that time in the future when God would set all things right and all problems and pains in this world would be wiped away. To emphasize this the prophet uses many vivid, poetic images to describe that Day; he appeals to people’s imaginations and hopes. That why we hear phrases like "the desert will exult," the parched land will bloom," "the eyes of the blind will be opened," "the deaf will hear." Or, like we heard last week, "the lion will lie down with the lamb." The prophet is trying to get a suffering people to think of and imagine a time when God will make all things right and beautiful.

How very different is the second reading from the Letter of James. This is not poetry; this is straightforward, moral advice: "Be patient until the coming of the Lord. ...You must be patient." The author of James says that it’s fine and wonderful to have a vision of the future, of what God is going to accomplish, but you have to be ready to wait for it. It comes in God’s own time, not ours. James sounds an awful lot like Dr. Phil on television who is continually telling people "the way it is and you need to accept it." James reminds his readers that the very same prophets who proposed all those wonderful images of the fulfilling Day of the Lord were themselves examples of patience.

We should think a little about patience. By and large we Americans do not have a reputation of being a very patient people. We have been conditioned for many years by modern media and business to take a more "got to have it now" attitude. We don’t like to wait for anything, anywhere. That’s too bad. The Christian tradition has long valued "patience" as a virtue, a character strength. Patience is the ability to continue moving forward in life even while dealing with a situation we don’t particularly like. Patience is not letting that adverse situation get us down, but still being able to go on cheerfully doing our best. Sr. Barbara Reid describes it: "Patience is doing everything we can, while at the same time, relying utterly on the divine provider." (America, Dec. 6, 2010, p. 31) If we ignore the virtue of patience, it’s our loss.

Patience is necessary for personal growth to take place. Personal growth involves the development of skills There are too many people who want to develop skills and abilities right now. That doesn’t happen; you don’t learn a skill overnight. Developing an ability requires persistent effort, trial and error, learning, trying again and lots of patience along the way. The same is true in matters of living our faith. Our practice of the faith is never going to be perfect, but we need to keep trying. To do that we needs lots of patience with ourselves along the way. One way we can learn how to develop patience—this is a suggestion of St. Augustine---is by growing a garden. You can’t rush plants into growing. You must patiently tend them....and wait. Gardening and patience go together.

Patience is also necessary for personal healing to take place. We know that’s true in cases of physical healing. You can’t rush back from an injury too quickly or you might wind up making the situation even worse. Sometimes we forget that a similar kind of patience is often required in emotional healing. When someone has hurt us deeply, and then says, "I’m sorry," often it’s going to take time and patience to let that sink in. It’s not that we don’t forgive the person, but it’s recognizing that it’s going to take time and patience to allow emotional healing to occur. That can’t be rushed.

In this Advent season we would all do well to take some time and examine how we practice the Christian virtue of patience.

The Feast of St. Nicholas

2010-12-06T00:01:00.000-05:00

Today we celebrate the feast of St. Nicholas. Who is St. Nicholas and why do we celebrate him as a Saint? Relatively little is known about St. Nicholas, but legends fill in the story of his true history. He is closely linked to Christmas, so it is only fitting that his Feast day is celebrated in December. His fame spread across western Europe, his figure developed into the person we know as Santa Claus, which comes from the Dutch for Saint Nicholas...Sinte Klaas. The story of St. Nicholas was first brought to America by Dutch settlers. His final transformation from bishop-saint to folk figure came in 1823 when Clement C. Moore wrote his famous poem, "The Night Before Christmas."

St. Nicholas was born during the third century in the village of Patara of Lycia, in the country of Anatolia. His parents were virtuous Christians. Nicholas was their only child...and he, too, grew in virtue. As Nicholas grew and matured in age and wisdom he also grew in his love of God and wanted to serve God. He was ordained a priest and later a bishop.

St. Nicholas was known for his generosity. He secretly provided dowries for poor girls. He also played a role in the release of three unjustly convicted army officers. St. Nicholas is the patron saint of sailors. In fact, sailors in the Aegean Sea customarily greet each other with: May St. Nicholas hold the tiller.

He very early became a patron saint for children. On the eve of St. Nicholas many families have the custom of hanging stockings above the fireplace or putting their shoes outside their bedroom doors in hopes that St. Nicholas would visit their homes while they are sleeping and slip a treat in their stocking or shoe. St. Nicholas NEVER failed to visit the Etienne Family. Even today, my Benedictine Sisters are visited every December 6th with treats from St. Nicholas!

I was born one minute after the Feast of St. Nicholas and the day before the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. I've always loved the name my parents gave me at birth, Mary Nicolette...in honor of St. Nicholas and our beautiful Blessed Mother, Mary. Advent is the time when we prepare to greet Christ—who came as a babe in a manger, who comes into our lives each day, and who will come again at the end of time. During this season of Advent we celebrate the feast of many wonderful saints as we wait in joyful hope for the birth of our Lord and Savior.

Today we call St. Nicholas by a different name, but one thing remains the same: Saint Nicholas, our present-day Santa Claus, is a symbol of unselfish giving...The TRUE meaning of Christmas. Let's allow the spirit of St. Nicholas to enter our hearts and allow us to have a generous spirit always looking for ways to make life a little better for those around us. Tis the season to give abundantly!

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 2nd Sunday in Advent

2010-12-05T16:47:00.001-05:00

Readings: Is 11:1-10; Rm 15:4-9; Mt 3:1-12

In last Sunday’s homily I reflected on the need to "get back to the basics" in evaluating our practice of Christian faith. Advent is a good time to begin that process. Let’s take that a step further this Sunday and explore what is meant by "repentance" in today’s gospel passage. Those are ringing words from John the Baptist: "Repent, for the Kingdom of God is at hand."

In its most general sense "repentance" includes two dimensions: one, a change in one’s outward behavior, and two, a change in one’s mind that impels a change in behavior. The two go hand-in-hand. We change our motives in order to change our actions. In our more common language, "repent" would mean something like, "Get your act together." Now, those aren’t words that we like to hear from a boss or a religious superior: "You need to get your act together." Even less do we want to hear them from God. However, that’s exactly what they mean in the mouth of John the Baptist. "It’s time to get your act together."

Let’s think about this a little more closely. Most of the time, unless we are a sociopath or have a criminal mind, we want to do things and live our lives in a reasoned, orderly way for our own benefit and the benefit of others. However, when times get really rushed and we begin to be stressed out most of the time, our life and actions can tend to get "loose around the edges." We cut corners to get more things into the day. We can start doing things just in reaction to someone’s else example or words without really thinking about the consequences. If we are honest, we know that in terms of religious behavior, it’s very easy for regular practices of prayer, self-control and virtuous behavior to get whittled down in the hectic pace of life. That’s especially true during the Christmas season, at least the way we observe it in this country. December can become really frantic at times. That just hastens the cutting of corners on just about everything and reacting impulsively to other’s words and actions. That’s when life become loose around the edges.

So in this Advent season we hear the clear challenge from John the Baptist: "Repent" or "Get your act together." How do we go about doing that? Well, the first thing—hard as it may be—is to slow down and give ourselves some time to do a bit of calm reflection. In that space of calm reflection we need to review our recent behaviors and actions and see if they really measure up to the kind of person we want to be. Did I really want to engage in that critical conversation that ripped apart another community member or did I just fall into it on the spur of the moment and then went along with it? Did that behavior really express who I am and the type of person I want to be? It’s that kind of self-evaluation that is the beginning of "getting our act together."

Sometime when we hear those words, "Repent! For the Kingdom of God is at hand," they can seem so alien to our everyday lives that they don’t make much impression on us. But they really do challenge us to explore the connections between our actions, our motives, and who we want to be. That kind of thinking is religious of its very nature. Listen to some words of Lawrence Kushner that sum up that point very nicely: " The essence of spirituality is a return to the self, a re-direction of vision of the one who asks the question, a discovery that what is sought is, and always has been, right here all along. Spirituality is personal immediacy and (at the same time) the immediacy of God’s Presence." (Eyes Remade for Wonder, p. 153) "Repent! or "Getting your act together!" They bring us face to face with the Living God. They are the examination of the close connection between motives, actions and hopes in our daily lives. That’s what we are called to do in this season of Advent.

8th Graders Serve at the Soup Kitchen

2010-12-03T05:00:00.001-05:00

The idea of going to a soup kitchen used to scare me, it seemed so foreign and honestly kind of frightening. But now I find that those past thoughts were completely wrong and that I should have been more open to the thought of charity. Luckily, Holy Name had provided the opportunity to go and let students help out at the soup kitchen and I decided to take it. But I didn’t think of taking it so quickly, and I’m not going to lie, the thought of acting sick crossed my mind many times, but I knew that would be completely wrong and I would be burdened with guilt for the rest of the school year. So I went.

As we were on our way to the soup kitchen that morning I grew even more anxious than I was that morning when I was getting ready for school, but as we were nearing closer and closer to the soup kitchen I calmed down a bit. Once we finally arrived we got out of the car and walked towards the building. I noticed that a man was bundled up in large amounts of old, dirty clothing sleeping on the floor. An old women that went by the name of Dr. Pike, opened the door to us and we walked down stairs into a room near the kitchen. There we had to put on hats and aprons. We then went into the kitchen and were introduced to people and the stations we were going to work at. Another classmate and I worked at a station where we served Kool-Aid to the homeless. Once everything was prepared and ready to go, people started pouring into the building…So much that I couldn’t even see over or even in between them. My partner and I started to pour Kool-Aid into small plastic cups and the thought of me spilling Kool-Aid everywhere crossed my mind as we did so. See, I am a very clumsy person and tend to run into, spill, and break a lot of things.

A lot of the people there were mostly men; I only saw about five women, and some of them looked like they didn’t even live on the streets. As I poured Kool-Aid for people few of them said thank you, but I knew by the look on their faces that they were either grateful or ashamed. But some of them weren’t even ashamed at all, actually some of them came in singing and smiling, which surprised me a bit. Eventually, the line started to go down and I could see in front of me again. People started to fill the tiny tables and started eating. Some of them sat together laughing and talking, and some just sat alone. Then a young white women got up from her table and shuffled over to where we were pouring juice, she grabbed two cups and looked me in the eyes and said “Sorry.” and then walked away. That’s when I realized that all these people who may have no job or home or food of their own are just like us. They’re no different from people we call “normal”. We’re the same. The only difference is that they are struggling harder than anyone one of “us”. This thought had stayed with me for the rest of my time at the soup kitchen.

The idea of going to the soup kitchen used to scare me, but now I find that the idea of volunteering at a soup kitchen is enjoyable and worth my time. And now instead of rejecting volunteering, I’ll be more open to the thought of helping those in need. Thankfully, I didn’t fake sick that day, because if I did I probably would have never tried volunteering afterward.

(Taylor O.)

When I served at the soup kitchen I think I really got to see how life is for some people. It isn't all good like some people make it out to be. Life for some people is hard and restless always wondering when they will get their next meal. When I served at the soup kitchen I did two things. I served Kool-aid and washed dishes. I don't remember the name of the guy I was washing dishes with, but he was a very nice guy. We talked about the soup kitchen. I learned that he is from Michigan and now lives in Indiana.

The people I served Kool-aid to were really nice. They had better manners than you would expect people who are hungry. There was another guy there who volunteered his time at the kitchen. He knew almost everyone there. He joked around with them and they joked back. The people I served were also very kind. They didn't seem grumpy or grouchy, just very thankful to have a nice meal in front of them. This really made me more grateful for what I have and made me feel like I was helping people. I never felt so good about myself.

My trip to the soup kitchen really made me feel like a better person. This is all because the people volunteering and the people going there for food. The volunteers were just glad to see people helping out and the people there for food where just so kind and I just can't get over that. I would definitely go back and I advise others to go at least one time.
(Zach L.)

When I first walked in to the soup kitchen I was met with the sight of a man sleeping on the floor with about 2-3 garbage bags as a pillow, right then it hit me how homelessness affects our society. After that I was asked to put on an apron and hat. (Wow that was embarrassing, good thing Mrs. Buckley didn’t have her camera on her.) After that we were asked to wash our hands, as I walked around I saw a tiny sink in a tiny kitchen at first I thought that was for dishes but as I found out, it was for our hands! After that we were asked to put on this poly-something type of glove, when we were sent to our stations I was assigned the fruit and salad section. Usually they have a leafy salad, but they were out and they had a bunch of tomatoes so they improvised and made a brochette type salad with cheese, Italian dressing, greens, and of course tomatoes. They also had mixed fruits, and a big box like thing filled with green grapes. As I looked around in the midst of serving I noticed a lot of African-American people in the room. It made me wonder, are ceo’s firing these people because of racism? Or is because of a stereo type?

In the middle of serving I saw a man taking a lot of grapes so as I started refilling the bowls. He said “Can you give me two more bowls please?” As I was filling a plastic bag with them he said “It’s for my kids.” I froze. This man has kids living on the street?!? It made me wonder how he and his family are getting by. I gave him a whole lot of grapes. I said tell them I said hi and enjoy.” He simply replied, “May the Lord bless you.” And he walked out the door. I felt really good inside like I did something really good. Later that day, I saw a woman standing next to the fruit, trying to get some grapes. I said “Let me help you with that.” As I looked at her I noticed she had a U.S. Army jacket on. That startled me because people who risk their lives daily to protect our country shouldn’t be on the streets fighting starvation! After I was finished she said, “Thank you my God,” and that gave me the best feeling imaginable.
(Mitchell S.)

Jesus' December Message

2010-12-01T05:45:00.004-05:00

Each month, Anne, a lay apostle, receives a message from Jesus. This is the message for December. To read more about the locutions Anne receives from Jesus and His Blessed Mother click on this link: Direction For Our Times.

My dear apostles, together, we are making advances. Humanity groans with the changes coming upon them and yet heaven’s servants become holier and holier. The project that is your holiness is on track. Dear apostles, this is the most important thing and this should be your greatest concern. I want you to be aware of your progress. Instead of being distracted by the changes occurring in the world, you are actively participating in the changes through your personal commitment to remain connected to My will in each day. You are offering your service through your allegiance prayer and I am accepting your service and using you to teach others what true holiness looks like. From the outside, you probably look as though you are working hard. From the outside, it is probably evident that your commitment has cost you something, meaning, your own plan. You have submitted your plan to Me and I have handed you My plan in return. Accepting My plan for your life is not easy and some moments are more difficult than other moments, and yet, you continue. You strive for total acceptance of My will. This is what I am asking of you and this is what the Father asked of Me. Abandonment. If you want to learn about abandonment, simply look to My figure on the cross. My Passion offers you a glimpse of where abandonment took Me. Your joy in service offers others a glimpse of where abandonment has taken you. Please be joyful. Your joy offers the world hope. Joy is infectious. And hope is infectious. Suffering passes away and what remains is your offering. I am returning. I tell you this because it is true and I want you to be prepared and to help others to be prepared. All is well. The infant King looks out upon a world which craves Him. Bring Me to others, that they may also herald My return.

A Saint Essay...by Lindsey C.

2010-12-01T05:00:00.000-05:00

What words do you think of when you hear the names Mother Teresa, Joan of Arc, Francis of Assisi, Peter, Mary, and many other saints? I know I immediately think of holiness. There are many ways to be holy. I try my best to model holiness each day because I feel that it is my main goal as a Catholic.

One way that I am similar to these saints is that I have trust in God during the rough times in my life. Just think of Mary’s deep trust when she was asked to be the mother of Jesus. Sure, I am probably not going to be asked to have a baby at the age of fourteen, and my life won’t be filled with nearly as many extreme challenges as Mary, but I still like to view myself as having deep trust in God. Another well-known saint, Mother Teresa, was kind and caring towards people all of the time, even if it meant that she would have to live a life of poverty. As Mother Teresa did, I too, try my best to show kindness to people throughout my day. When I think of people with unconditional love, I think of St. Francis of Assisi. Francis had a great love for animals, as well as people. Similarly, I try to love and comfort people who are in need of extra care. Joan of Arc was asked to lead her country in war. Wow! I cannot even imagine the braveness she must have had. Just as St. Joan of Arc was always brave, I try to be brave and have God guide me in all that I do. Last, but not least, Peter must have been confused often in his role as an apostle, as well as Jesus’ role. Despite his confusion, Peter always showed patience. Patience is very hard for me to obtain, but I hope to some day reach the level of patience that Peter displayed.

With all the great things these holy people did, it seems nearly impossible to reach the same stage that they are at. But, if I continue to model my life and actions after them, then hopefully I too, will someday reach “sainthood.”
(Lindsey C. 7th Grade)

Bishop Paul Etienne's Homily for Charlie Simon

2010-11-29T11:59:00.002-05:00

Today our good friend, Charlie Simon was buried. The following is the homily prepared and delivered by my brother, Bishop Paul Etienne, Charlie's good friend.

Mass of Resurrection; Homily for Charles Simon
November 25, 2010; November 29 Burial

We gather today to commend to God a beloved son, father, brother, cousin, uncle, nephew and friend to many. On behalf of Fr. Barnabas, Fr. Dennis, and the faith communities of St. Paul and St. Pius, we extend our condolences and assurances of prayer to all of you in these difficult days.

We gather today with heavy hearts; grief stricken at Charles' untimely and sudden departure from this life. As we gather today, we have many questions about this mystery that death poses. It is a question and mystery that in many ways, our culture today is unable to answer; and dare I say, even unable to cope with. There are many responses which fall short, such as "Only the good die young." At face value, this sounds comforting, but it fails to recognize that many good people live to a ripe old age. It would also tend to imply that all the rest of us are somehow "bad".

Our grief today is real, as it should be. Grief is a true expression of love. It is a very physical way of expressing loss...not just of a person, Charles, but also what our relationships with him expressed - care, concern, love. What we are doing here, right now, in this space, in this Mass of Resurrection, separates us from the secular world where grief leads only to despair, because without God, the human experience is a dead end...it leads only to the grave and nowhere else.

Life lived without God, and faith in Him, robs the human person of hope, motivation, meaning and purpose. But death embraced with faith opens us up to the broad place where life begins to expand, in the person of Jesus Christ. What we do here is one of the best things we do as Church. We express our faith in Jesus Christ and the power of His resurrection. The Risen Christ is the only sufficient answer to the mystery of death, because He is the only answer to the mystery of the human person; the mystery of human life. It is only in Christ that any person finds the meaning of his or her own existence.

And so we turn to Sacred Scripture to help us put our grief into proper perspective. Thus, we can say with the author of the Book of Wisdom: The just man, though he die early, shall be at rest. (Wisdom 4:7) We can say with St. Paul that Charles' death was not an early or untimely death, but in the eyes and plan of God, a death that occurred in the "fullness of time". (see Galatians 4:4) In faith, death is not the end of life, not the end of all reality, but the birth unto true and eternal life. Neither death, nor life...nor present things, nor future things...will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:37-39)
The loss of a loved one can be a heavy weight to bear. It is a burden the Father knew at the death of His Son, Jesus, even though He knew the tremendous gift being given for the redemption of the world. It is a burden Jesus knew at the death of his friend, Lazarus. And thus, Jesus can say in the Gospel today: Come to me, all you who are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light." (Mt 11:29-30)
Once again, the message is clear; only Jesus can give us true rest for our souls, true food for our journey. He is the only one with the living water to quench our deepest thirst; light and truth to guide our earthly journey. He alone has conquered death and the power of sin. He alone holds the healing balm to ease our pain.

Our journey with Charles, and his with us, has come to an end. We thank God for the many conversations, trips and card games, Simon fests and other parties. We will surely miss the turn of phrase that only Charles could say, such as: "It sure is fun fishing when you catch fish!" or a simple "Hey ole buddy!" when he greeted us. Most of us will miss his occasional phone calls to simply say hello and touch base. We will miss his smile, his jokes his laugh and love for life. He was quite the talker, so much so that very often you hardly got a word in yourself! How many of us benefited from his helping hand and expertise in some kind of home improvement project? Who else had such a memory for names, relationships, birthdates and phone numbers?

I believe each of us manifests a unique image and likeness of Christ that only each of us in our own way can reveal. A simple passage from St. Paul came to mind the other day when thinking of Charles and his disarming personality: Have the same attitude toward all. (Romans 12:14-16) This was one of the unique ways Charles could be Christ to others that only he could be. The friendship and love we enjoyed and shared with Charles was Christ's unique gift to us that only Charles could share. That is my prayer for each of us, that we be the Christ for others, that only we can be.

As sad as we are to say goodbye to Charles, we are called at the same time to rejoice in the expanding horizon Charles now enjoys. We must not lose sight of our human origins, or our ultimate destiny; God's Kingdom. Yesterday's Gospel for the First Sunday of Advent reminds us: stay awake...you must be prepared...the Son of Man is coming at the time you least expect. (Mt 24:37-44)

In a homily on the mortality of the human person, St. Cyprian reminds us of other basic truths with regards to the Kingdom of Heaven:
Our obligation is to do God's will, and not our own.
We are living here now as aliens and only for a time. When the day of our homecoming puts an end to our exile, frees us from the bonds of the world, and restores us to paradise and to a kingdom, we should welcome it.

We look upon paradise as our country, and a great crowd of our loved ones awaits us there, a countless throng of parents, brothers and children longs for us to join them...O the delight of that heavenly kingdom where there is no fear of death.

So my friends, let us grieve in faith, but let us also rejoice for Charles that his earthly journey has reached its fulfillment and he has taken up his place at the heavenly banquet, the true home of every believer. May the remaining days of our earthly journey be a pilgrimage of faith in Jesus Christ. May we not become too encumbered with the fleeting things of this life, remembering always our true home, with all the saints in the heavenly kingdom. May we strive to please Christ in all things, and desire always His kingdom above all else.
Farewell ole buddy, good friend. You are home. Rest in peace.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 1st Sunday in Advent

2010-11-28T19:49:00.002-05:00

Readings: Is 2:1-5; Rms 13:11-14; Math 24:37-44

The program that I am currently listening to when I’m driving in my car is one from the Teaching Company entitled, "Utopia and Terror in the 20th Century." This course describes the 20th century, the one that most of us have lived the majority of our years in, as the most bloody and violent in human history. It is a century filled with wars, genocide, ethnic cleansing, and dictatorial government persecutions that accounted for around 220 million violent deaths. The 20th century saw more violent deaths than the previous 19 centuries combined. What’s really so frightening about all this is that most of these deaths were caused by individuals who were in pursuit of creating an ideal society, a utopia on earth. Sadly, these perpetrators also believed that to accomplish this ideal society, it was necessary to use, at least temporarily, terror, including executions, as a method to this end (an idea born during the French Revolution). Most of the people who pursued this combination of utopia and terror were individuals who did not believe in God. Instead, they wanted to create a secular ideal utopia fashioned in their own image (National Socialism, Communism, etc.).

How different from that is the prophecy of Isaiah, which we heard in the first reading this morning. Isaiah also has a vision of an ideal society, a utopia, where "a nation shall not raise the sword against another." But his vision is very definitely based upon a belief in a God, who shall give us instruction on how to live: "he will instruct us that we may walk in his paths." In the passage in Isaiah right before this one (a passage we didn’t hear) the prophet spells out what those instructions from the Lord God are: "Wash yourselves, make yourselves clean...cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow." (1:16-17) It is precisely a society that earnestly seeks to care for the weakest among its own that is one that will come to know true peace. But this needs to be the attitude of all in society, from the leaders to the least: "seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow." From all in society, not just volunteers.

This first Sunday of Advent takes us back to the very beginnings of our Christian faith as it is rooted in the moral monotheism of ancient Judaism. Many scholars and writers have often asserted that the religious genius of Judaism was its belief in and proclamation of a moral monotheism: that there is only One God and that God requires moral actions of justice and love from the human beings He creates. If we believe in this one and only God who calls us to "seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan and plead for the widow," then we are not free to create our own ideal human society in our image. Way back when I was a theology student, I remember one of the adages spoken often by my Old Testament professors: "Before you can be a Christian, you have to first be a Yahwist." That is, one who believes in the One Lord God of Israel and his moral commands to us.

Living in a religion like the Catholic faith in the 21st century can be a very complicated process. There are so many aspects and areas in the Catholic faith that we can sometimes easily get lost or be overwhelmed by trivial issues. (And there are plenty of trivial issues to sidetrack us.) There are always times when we need to clear the deck and get back to basics. Sometimes a crisis will force us to that and we have no other options. There’s also the possibility that we can to it on our own and willingly undertake a "back to the basics" look at our faith. This Advent season would be a good time for that. And one of the best places to begin would be the prophet Isaiah and his moral monotheism. During the Advent season, we might reflect on these words again and again: "There is no other God besides me, a righteous God and a Savior; there is no one besides me. Turn to me and be saved, all the ends of the earth! For I am God and there is no other." (45:21-22) And what does this one God say to us: "seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan and plead for the widow."

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for Thanksgiving

2010-11-28T07:57:00.002-05:00

Readings: Is 63:7-9; Col 3:12-17; Lk 17:11-19

In just about a year we will begin using the third edition of the Roman Missal. Besides the new translation, there will be additional prefaces, votive masses and saints’ days. There will also be a strong encouragement that there be more singing on Sundays and feastdays. They particularly encourage the dialogue parts between priest and people to be sung. They will repeat the suggestion that the priest sing the Preface. But, as you have perhaps noticed over the past ten years, I don’t sing the preface. I’d like to tell you why. It has a lot to do with the theme of thanksgiving, which we celebrate today.

The Preface is the actual beginning of the Eucharistic Prayer, that great narration of praise and thanksgiving that, in fact, makes the mass to be a mass. The Eucharistic Prayer is the prayer of the assembled community, of priest and people together. While there are some acclamations from the assembly, the priest recites most of the prayer by himself. But he always prays in the name of the people. The congregation is to listen carefully and make the prayer he speaks into their own prayer, so that we all pray as one. That’s why it’s so important that the priest speak loudly, clearly and slowly—to allow that understanding and interiorization to take place. The Preface forms an essential part of the Eucharistic Prayer; it needs to be heard clearly. From my perspective that’s better accomplished in a recitation voice than a singing voice.

I have a second reason. Christian prayer, especially the Eucharistic prayer, is first and foremost "praising and giving thanks to God"....and that requires time, practice and understanding. Thanking God is not a natural outcome of perceiving the world with an untrained eye. We have to learn that God is the one worthy of praise and thanksgiving. The structure of a Eucharistic Prayer is a narrative, an education about God’s works. It begins with the work of the Father (primarily in the Preface), then the work of the Son (which culminates in the consecration of the bread and wine), and ends in the work of the Spirit (God’s blessings that continue in our day—the prayers for the living and deceased). Recitation of the whole Eucharistic prayer helps us to better see that progression and unity. So, while we pray the Eucharistic Prayer as an expression of our praise and thanks to God, that same Eucharistic Prayer is forming and developing an attitude of thanksgiving within us. The Prayer is shaping our minds and hearts.

It is wonderful that we celebrate the Eucharist on Thanksgiving Day. May the praise and thanks that we express here spill over into the rest of our day and the rest of our lives.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the Feast of Christ the King

2010-11-21T15:48:00.002-05:00

Readings: 2 Sam 5:1-3; Col 1:12-20; Lk 23:35-43

Ever since it was instituted as a feast for the universal church in 1925 by Pope Pius XI, the feast of Christ the King has been the topic of much heated comment. To some critics at the time it looked like the Church reaffirming its choice of monarchy as the preferred type of civil government. To still other critics it seemed a reassertion of the Church’s own style of absolutist monarchical government. There may have been some truth in those opposing views. But they were not the reasons specified by Pius XI in the encyclical that established the feast. He wished the feast rather to be a reminder of the benefits of calm order, of harmony and peace that should reign in society and that was so missing in the time Pius was living in. He was, of course, drawing on the image of an ideal king who rules with wisdom, justice and understanding—that was outdated for his time. The pope also wanted a public consecration to the heart of the Redeemer on this Sunday.

That last point brings us a little closer to the enduring value of this feast: that when Jesus Christ comes again in glory, he will judge all people and all things in the light of his own heart. That is so beautifully exemplified by the gospel passage today of Jesus on the cross with the repentant thief: "This day you will be with me in paradise." We miss the whole meaning of the feast if we get caught up in the pros and cons about whether "king" is an appropriate description for Jesus Christ or discussion about monarchy as the best form of government. It’s all about Jesus in his glorious, future coming "to judge the living and the dead." And that judgment will be according to the values shown in the earthly life of Jesus.

In Jesus own teaching, he proclaims a divine judgment on all individuals and groups. We are not free to do anything we want; all people will someday have to answer for the actions of their lives. A judgment by God is real. The early Christians handed on this belief in a coming judgment by Jesus Christ as a clear and unambiguous statement of their faith. "For all of us must appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each may receive recompense for what has been done in the body, whether good or evil." (2 Cor. 5:10) In addition, they believed that the criteria of God’s judgment on human life were reflected in Jesus’ human life, particularly in his dealings with other people. How people follow the example of Jesus’ actions determines the norms of their own judgment. Thus, the words and actions of Jesus become especially important in the hope we have for that coming judgment.

So I would invite you to relax, close your eyes and listen to these words of Jesus spoken to individuals in his own lifetime, words that will likely be spoken by Jesus from his seat of judgment:

"Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace." (Mk 5:34)

"Take heart! It is I; do not be afraid." (Mk 6:50)

"I do so choose. Be made clean" (Lk 5:13)

"Friend, your sins are forgiven you." (Lk 5:20)

"Do not weep. Young man, I say to you: arise." (Lk 7:13-14)

"Woman, has no one condemned you? Then neither do I condemn you." (Jn 8:10-11)

"Amen, I say to you, this day you will be with me in paradise." (Lk 23:43)

Jesus Grew in Age, Wisdom and Favor

2010-11-17T06:28:00.004-05:00

The 6th graders and I came across a passage from Scripture...Luke 2:52...Jesus grew in age, wisdom and favor. I keep thinking about that. I think the word that strikes me most is favor. What does it mean to grow in favor? Favor of what...or of whom? For Jesus it was in favor of God and God's people...for us it is the same. Growing in age happens naturally, growing in wisdom happens as we stay open to God in our daily life experiences and being aware of God's presence in our lives as we journey towards our heavenly home. So how do we grow in favor? Another way to look at this is to ask ourselves how we grow in holiness. I asked my students this very question. We came up with a terrific list.

To grow in favor or holiness:

Above all else we must remain faithful to our prayer life. Our prayers keep us connected to God. We take time to pray the Rosary or the Divine Mercy Chaplet.
We must strive to hear God's voice in our daily lives and walk in a manner pleasing to our God.
We seek ways to put God first, others second and ourselves last.
We are the first to serve the needs of others.
We stay faithful to the Sacraments and take time for Adoration as often as we can.
We cultivate peaceful hearts and strive to be kind and gentle with everyone...even ourselves.
We never miss an opportunity to give God thanks and praise.
We stay faithful to the 10 Commandments.
We live the Beatitudes daily.

Take time to reflect on how you grow in holiness. If you have any tips for us please leave them in the comment section! Be assured of our prayers for you today.

Prayer Goes a Long Way

2010-11-10T12:52:00.003-05:00

Recently my students were invited to write an essay on what it means to live a life of faith. I would like to share an essay written by one of my 7th grade students. I am so blessed to have the job that I have! I love teaching...I hope my students learn as much from me as I do from them!

“Prayer Goes a Long Way”

When faced with the question, “What does it mean to live a life of faith,” my mind becomes crammed with numerous answers. To me, living a life of faith means participating fully in my Catholic religion, and helping others do the same. Also, faith is believing and trusting in God, even though he is a complete mystery. In other words, as Martin Luther King Jr. once said, “Faith is taking the first step, even when you don’t see the whole staircase.” Another way to view the term “living a life of faith” is to think of Mary, the mother of Jesus. Mary showed great faith in God, even when she was unsure and scared at the situation she was faced with. I cannot even imagine the fright and worry she must have felt when she was asked to be the mother of Jesus. But, because of her strong faith, Mary was willing to say, “Yes.” Faith is participating fully in Catholicism and being willing to “take the first step with God.” Even when we are scared and unsure in life, God will guide us through the rough times. Having faith and living by faith, shows God that we trust and believe fully in his abilities.
Living a life of faith is very important in my life, so that I may grow closer to God, our Father. One way that I live a life of faith is that I make prayer a very essential part of my everyday life. I pray before I eat a meal, before I go to bed, and anytime throughout my day that I see a situation in need of help. When I hear any sort of siren, whether it may be a police car, fire truck, ambulance, or storm warning, I do the Sign of the Cross and say a short prayer asking God to keep everyone safe. On Thursdays, I go to adoration along with the rest of my class. During that time, I can really feel God giving his grace to those who believe in him. As long as we keep our faith in God, he will give us the graces to follow him. Saying prayers often, and always talking to God is a simple way that I live a life of faith. Asking God for help is similar to what Martin Luther King Jr. said because I am putting my trust in God, even though I cannot see him. During the rough times in my life, I know that if I have faith, God will give me the strength and courage to get through them, just as he gave Mary strength through her rough times. Prayer is a very simple way that I live a life of faith for God.
Through my prayer and the effects it has had on me, I have learned many things about God. I have learned that God is a mystery and remains unseen, but he is always standing right beside me, trying his best to help me in my times of need. I have also learned that if I have trust in God and I am thankful of his generosity, he will bless and strengthen me in return. God’s love is everlasting, and he will always listen to me with an open heart. I know that prayer helps me grow closer to God and his kingdom. Knowing these things will benefit me in the future. I can use what I know about God and prayer to help me so that in times of sorrow or in the scary times in my life, I can turn to God to guide me through them. Since God is always listening, I know that I can ask him for his help whenever I need it. Overall, praying and living a life of faith makes me feel better as a person because I know that they help me grow closer to God. Next time that you’re confused or scared, be sure to pray because it can go a long way.

(Lindsey C.)

Serving at the Soup Kitchen

2010-11-09T07:51:00.002-05:00

The soup kitchen was a great experience for me and my classmates. Mrs. Buckley drove Sam, Lynn and me down town to the Cathedral. When we first got there we saw a man who was sleeping on a trash bag right outside the door. Right then I thought of how fortunate I was to have a roof over my head. We went inside and got started serving. I was a little nervous at first but then I saw that it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Afterwards, I was glad I went because I was helping those in need and it helped me realize and be thankful for the things that I have because some people aren’t as lucky as I am.

(Zach B.)

8th Graders serve at the Soup Kitchen

2010-11-08T10:32:00.003-05:00

I didn’t know what to expect when I was heading to the food pantry. I thought I was just going to give food to people who didn’t have any, but what I really did was make somebody’s day. Some of these people didn’t have any food at all, and this was their only meal for the whole day. Others were sleeping on the ground when I walked in. I thought all the people there would be sad, but they were all happy. This surprised me very much, considering these people have nothing. This experience is an experience I won’t forget because it taught me to be thankful for what I have, and how lucky I am to have food, a house, and family.
(Lynn J.)

When I arrived at the Cathedral Soup Kitchen I thought it was a good way to get out of class. I never thought I would take away from it as much as I did. The people that came through the line of food were often silent. I felt sad to see people that had to depend on others to get their food. Some of the people would be singing, others would ask how I was doing. I was happy to see people have good optimism on life even when it is difficult, scary, and sad. Every day I have bad optimism on something. How it is that fortunate people like me can be mad because I didn’t get the dinner I wanted, when people that don’t have homes can be happy with nothing? I don’t know the answer to that question, but I do know that I will start being more grateful for the things I have and think about serving at the Cathedral soup Kitchen every time something doesn’t go my way.
(Samantha D.)

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time

2010-11-07T12:53:00.002-05:00

Readings: 2 Mac 7:1-14; 2 Thess 2:16-3:5; Lk 20:34-38

The month of November started off as it usually does with the feasts of All Saints and All Souls. Appropriately that leads into a month-long consideration of our Catholic belief in the last things, which culminates in the feast of Christ the King—that feast which symbolizes the second and glorious coming of Jesus Christ. This concludes the whole cycle of the Liturgical year which celebrates all the major mysteries of Christ’s life. Then we start over again with Advent.

On this and the next two Sundays the scripture readings will be concerned with topics of the last things—broadly considered as death, judgment, heaven and hell. But actually it includes a much broader array of topics like resurrection, purgatory, limbo, beatific vision, second coming, and so on. Today’s readings all touch upon the issue of "life after death." The reading from the second book of Maccabees (written around 150BC) is one of the earliest expressions in the biblical tradition of a belief in an afterlife. Paul’s second letter to the Thessalonians refers to the "everlasting encouragement and hope that God has given to us." And Jesus, in the gospel passage, speaks clearly of "the age to come" in which the "dead will rise." So the issue today is clearly that of a life after death. But what will that "life" look like?

Human beings have been trying to answer that for thousands of years. If we go back over two thousand years before Christ, we find the ancient Sumerian and Egyptian cultures expressing their belief that the future life is going to be a great deal like the present one we are living in. That’s presumably why they were buried with their favorite clothes, foods, pets, games and even servants (who unfortunately had to be killed to be buried with their owners). That was the simplest description of the future life. Later descriptions were sometimes much more extravagant. In the future life we will be like angels, or like stars in the sky, of some other fantastic concoction. This same kind of imaginative thinking continued in Christianity. The church father Origen suggested that we would all rise from the dead as little balls, because the sphere was the perfect shape in Platonic philosophy. And St. Gregory of Nyssa worried about, in cases of cannibalism, which one would get the "matter" in the resurrected life. There’s still a lot of bizarre thinking like this in some contemporary Catholic writers. They give very exact descriptions of what life after death will be like. These are usually based on a very literal reading of the book of Revelation in the New Testament and some private visions of individuals. But there’s a problem with too much exactness.

This difficulty is clearly recognized in official Catholic teaching. Consider this quote from the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, Letter on Certain Questions concerning Eschatology (1979). "Neither Scripture nor theology provides sufficient light for an exact and proper picture of life after death. Christians must firmly hold the two following essential points: on the one hand, they must believe in the fundamental continuity, thanks to the power of the Holy Spirit, between our present life in Christ and the future life.....; on the other hand, they must clearly be aware of the radical break between the present life and the future one...." (p. 6) So we will be able to identify ourselves, but our condition will be completely different. That’s about all we have to go on.

The prayers of the liturgy are pretty sober about expressing "life after death." I like especially the opening prayers of the last two Sunday liturgies, prayers that we heard several times during the weekdays: "May we do with loving hearts what you ask of us and come to share the life you promise." And last Sunday’s: "God of power and mercy....may we live the faith we profess and trust your promise of eternal life." That says it sweetly and sharply. We believe in a future life because of God’s promise. So when my time comes, I say: "Surprise me!"

8th Graders Serve at the Cathedral Soup Kitchen

2010-11-03T06:21:00.001-04:00

When I served in the soup kitchen I went there just for service hours but when I got there I realized how hungry these people were. When I was there I learned to look past all of the bad stuff and see a person just like me. As I was serving food I noticed how polite the people were. One really important technique I used while I was there was teamwork. Teamwork was really important because if one of us messed up it was really likely for all of us to mess up. I also learned that some people are nicer than others, but even if somebody isn’t nice they are still a person.
(Elliott M.)

Jesus' November Message

2010-11-01T09:00:00.000-04:00

Each month, Anne, a lay apostle, receives a message from Jesus. This is the message for November. To read more about the locutions Anne receives from Jesus and His Blessed Mother click on this link: Direction For Our Times.

Dearest apostle, be assured of My good will toward you. At times, I see that you forget that you have a beloved and constant friend. I am a friend who never finds you tiresome or difficult. I am with you during your calm periods and during your storms. I find you a precious companion regardless of your disposition in any moment. Think of someone whose companionship you crave or whose companionship you craved in the past. Just the thought of spending time with that person could bring you consolation. With that person, you felt comfortable, safe and there was joy. You could be yourself and felt that you fit well with this other. Dear apostle, for you, I am that other. For Me, you are that other. We fit together. When you are with Me, you are with the one who completely understands you and completely loves you. My love for you is sympathetic, understanding and unchangeable. My love for you will weather any strain or pain, any mistake or any emotional storm you experience. I will never leave you. I will always love you and welcome you in My heart. Your answers and your clarity will be found with Me. Sometimes, dear apostle, you fear that I am not giving you the answers you require. This is not true. If you need an answer from Me, you will receive it. If a course correction is necessary, I will direct you to it. Your prayers are instantly at home in My heart and I rejoice that you have come to Me with these requests. It is not possible that a beloved apostle will be rejected. Do not think that I ignore your pain or that your pain leaves Me indifferent. You, dear apostle, have shown Me that you are interested in My pain which will always involve the pain of humanity. This moves My heart to the greatest generosity. I answer your prayers in a mystical way. Some day you will see that I answered your prayers in the most beneficial way possible, given the intention. Many unnecessary calamities are avoided because of prayer. The greatest mercy flows down to your loved ones through your prayers, even though you suffer terribly when you see your loved ones hurt or when you must be separated from them, particularly when you do not expect to be separated from them. I am the merciful Christ in all of these situations. Understanding will come, dear friend. Believe in your prayers. Believe in My merciful presence with you. Believe in the impact of your service and believe in the gratitude I have for you, even when you do not feel it.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 31st Sunday in Ordinary Time

2010-10-31T14:00:00.000-04:00

Readings: Wis 11:22-12:2; 2 Thess 1:11-2:2; Lk 19:1-10

It would be very easy to preach about the gospel story of Zacchaeus. In many ways he is among the most appealing figures in the New Testament and someone we can certainly identify with. But I’m more intrigued by the first reading we heard, from the Book of Wisdom. It’s a marvelous little meditation on the love and mercy of God.

The Book of Wisdom is part of a collection of writings in the bible that are called "Wisdom Literature." We should take just a moment to describe this type of writing, because in some ways it’s unfamiliar to us and in other ways it isn’t. Wisdom literature was a kind of writing that was widespread in the ancient world. It was found in the cultures of Egypt, Mesopotamia and Syria as well as in Old Testament Jewish culture. The purpose of wisdom literature is practical guidance in the daily struggles and challenges of life. It’s trying to develop the art of "living well" in a world that is often conflictive and confusing. In some ways Wisdom Literature looks a lot like the advice columns in daily newspapers: Dear Abby, Dear Ann, Dear Carolyn. People have problems and they want some practical help in getting through them.

One big difference separates biblical Wisdom Literature from the newspaper advice columns. The biblical Wisdom Literature always assumes that you are dealing with daily problems in the light of a relationship with God, and that your problem has not only has a human dimension but also a divine dimension. The Wisdom writer wants to offer some suggestions and guidelines to help you cope with the particular problem you are facing in both dimensions.

What is the particular problem that our Wisdom writer is dealing with? Unfortunately, that occurs in the passages just before the reading we heard. (That’s one of the problems with Lectionary texts; sometimes you only get half the picture.) The writer was responding to a question about the punishments the Egyptians received because of their persecutions of the Hebrews (the plagues). He writes about the sins of the Egyptians, the greatest being the worship of false gods. And that God struck them down because of these sins. But then it’s like the Wisdom writer realizes that his readers might take him the wrong way and think that God will immediately strike them down for any serious offense. So that’s when he begins the beautiful meditation we heard in today’s reading. He turns it into a prayer: "But you (O Lord) have mercy on all, because you can do all things; and you overlook sins that they may repent. (Overlook doesn’t mean God forgets about them, but rather that he delays any action to give time for repentance.) For you love all things that are and loathe nothing that you have made." And later: "You spare all things, because they are yours, O Lord and Lover of souls..." I love that phrase, "Lord and Lover of souls," and it shows up in a lot of prayers in the Byzantine tradition. So the Wisdom writer is saying: whatever you have done, God gives you a chance for repentance! There is nothing that cannot be forgiven.

This is a Christian message that needs to be given over and over. People can do some sinful and pretty stupid things in their lives....whether by bad choice, ignorance, peer pressure or something else. Later on, in a different frame of mind they realize what a mistake and horrible decision they made. They may very easily think and feel that they can never be forgiven by God. In my forty-three years of priestly ministry I’ve met more than a few who have felt like that. They need to hear that they are forgiven by God if they have true sorrow in their hearts and ask and pray for God’s forgiveness. Often a lot of these people have turned their lives around a long time ago, but in their hearts they continue to feel unforgiven. They need to hear this reading again and again: "You, O Lord, have mercy on all...and you overlook people’s sins that they may repent.....O Lord and Lover of souls."

8th Graders Continue to Serve at the Cathedral Soup Kitchen

2010-10-26T14:06:00.001-04:00

Serving at the Cathedral Kitchen was really a great experience. I felt a variety of feelings and emotions. My mind was swirling with ideas. I felt that I was really helping these people who couldn’t live their lives otherwise. I feel that I can contribute more to the well being of society. I also felt that people can come together putting aside their differences and backgrounds and support each other. People who have never seen each other were able to come together and serve the needs of others. It really is a testament to the power of the human spirit. There were a few disputes, though, but they were easily resolved. Serving at the soup kitchen helped me realize that there are people in much worse situations than my own. As bad as I may feel sometimes, I have to remember that there are those who are even worse, just barely squeaking by. It really was an experience that I will never forget.
(Oscar T.)

When we first arrived at the soup kitchen I saw a guy sleeping at the door. We entered the building and went to where we were going to serve the food. I noticed a lot of cheese, cereal and sugar. When the people came in the room to eat, most of them headed toward the soup. Many were thirsty and drank several cups of Kool-Aid. They ate cereal with what looked like a mountain of sugar on top. Three huge pots of soup were gone in no time at all. I heard a few words from those we served. It felt really good to help others in need.
(Derek S.)

The soup kitchen was an eye opening experience for me. I got to serve with my classmates, Derek, Oscar and Elliott. Mrs. May and Mrs. Buckley both drove to the soup kitchen. I rode with Elliott and Mrs. May. When we arrived at the soup kitchen we found a guy asleep next to the door. We had to wake him up so Elliott could get through in his wheelchair. Derek and I served the Kool-Aid, while Elliott, Mrs. May and Oscar served the salad. I was impressed with how well manned everyone was.
(Austin L.)

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time

2010-10-24T17:10:00.000-04:00

Readings: Sir 35:16-18; 2 Tim 4:6-18; Lk 18:9-14

It’s relatively easy to summarize the main themes of each of the three readings we have just heard. The book of Sirach says "keep crying out to God for our needs." The letter to Timothy urges us to "have confidence in God to bring us to the heavenly Kingdom." The passage from the Gospel of Luke advises, "Do not despise other people and glorify yourself." It’s harder, though, trying to figure out which one to accent in a homily. After some consideration I decided to go with the last one, mainly because the idea of "despising someone" intrigues me.

Maybe one of the reasons I’m drawn to that topic is because the cultural mood of our country is so much about despising others, as the current political campaign so sadly shows in many examples: there are people refusing to shake hands or walking out on a debate. But long before this political campaign began, "despising groups of people" had become a staple of many stand-up comedy shows on TV and radio—despising homosexuals, Jews, Hispanics, Catholics, blacks. The shocking surge in the amount of bullying nationwide is also rooted in seeing some other people as "despised." Now we can add the Internet to TV, radio and stand-up comedy. Of course, despising others makes any possibility of meaningful communication absolutely impossible. How did we get this way?

Let’s consider the notion of "despising someone" a little more closely. It’s very easy to say that you don’t like someone. In that case you can just avoid them at parties and so on. If you have to work with someone you don’t like, you would consider it as an irritation but you can probably put up with it. And in most cases you can even interact with them on corporate tasks. That happens all the time in businesses today. But "despising someone" goes a couple of steps further than disliking. As dictionary definitions go, they agree that "despising someone" means "to look down on someone with disdain," "to regard with contempt," "to view with scorn," "to regard as contemptible and worthless." Then another step beyond that is the intent to "irritate, annoy or even hurt," "to try to injure or thwart" the other person. Sadly, all of that is showing up in this political election and the phenomenon of bullying.

We, as Catholic religious, might disavow ourselves of any such attitudes and behaviors, but we can’t deny that we are influenced by them just by living in the middle of them. And I must say that I have detected some "despising" in criticisms that some people, Catholics or otherwise, make of the Catholic Church and its leadership in particular. Living in the culture we absorb this mean attitude sometimes unknowingly.

The real question is: how does one move from "disliking someone," which is understandable and probably unavoidable because of personality differences, to "despising someone?" One answer that I found noteworthy and provocative says that the move from disliking to despising happens because of a loss of a sense of reverence in one’s life. Reverence is recognizing and appreciating the value or goodness of a person or thing. I’m talking about reverence as a natural aptitude, not in any specific religious sense, such as a book-lover has a reverence for a rare book. Reverence appreciates and responds to innate value. The Pharisee in today’s gospel passage doesn’t see any value or good in the other people who are praying in the Temple. Even though he himself is performing religious acts, there’s no real reverence in him at all. I do feel that’s one of the reasons there’s so much "despising" in our culture today: because a lot of people have just lost any sense of reverence. So it might be good for us today to do a little self-examination on the reverence in our own lives. Do we instinctively turn to look for the value or goodness of a person or thing we meet? That’s reverence. And this natural reverence forms a foundation for a reverence toward God. It’s good to remember that.

An Ordinary Day?

2010-10-23T19:16:00.002-04:00

Often I post reflections written by my 8th grade students who serve at the Cathedral Soup Kitchen. Today I am honored to share with you a reflection written by Mrs. Linda Buckley, a teacher at Holy Name. For years Linda has made it possible for students to serve at the soup kitchen. She has a passion for the poor and shares that passion with our students. Soon you will find reflections written by the students Mrs. Buckley writes about in this post. Thank you Linda for serving God and God's people so lovingly. You are a wonderful example of servant leadership!

When ordinary acts of kindness occur before our eyes they are sometimes missed. When we move too quickly we run the risk of missing our God in the midst of those very ordinary actions. Today, I just about missed our God right before my eyes! I stopped what I was absorbed in doing for a very brief moment and I saw our God! He was present in those who went to The Cathedral Soup Kitchen this morning to feed the people in our city who were hungry. Our God was right in front of my eyes when I saw Mrs. May helping Elliott pass out soup. Her undaunted spirit and her “can do” attitude gave witness to our God working through her. Elliott, doing his part to help out while passing bowls to his mom was an unforgettable image of service and a call to action. Austin being sensitive to Elliott’s needs the entire morning just about got overlooked. I just about missed our God working through Oscar when he took charge of dishing out salads and then the fruit like he had been doing it forever. I saw Dereck putting his faith into action by confidently pouring drinks and then clearing tables. It was his willingness to do whatever was asked of him to the best of his ability that I saw our Lord working in him. When it was time to return to school the boys all piled in Mrs. May’s van to ride with Elliott. Our service was completed and back to school we went. I saw our God in the midst of our students and an extraordinary woman! I just about missed it! How can that be an ordinary day?

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time

2010-10-17T14:59:00.000-04:00

Readings: Ex 17:8-13; 2 Tim 3:14-4:2; Lk 18:1-8

The great scientist, Albert Einstein, once said: "Science can tell us a great deal about the universe—how old it is, how vast it is, what laws of physics control it. But science is powerless to answer the most important question of all: is the universe a friendly (and happy) place, is it supportive of human hopes and desires?" (Harold Kushner, The Lord is My Shepherd, p. 7) For that, human beings must look elsewhere. And they have for ages, long before science came along. We in the Judaeo-Christian faith tradition look to our scriptures for the answer to the question: is the universe a friendly (and happy) place? And the answer is yes! Because it is presided over by a God who looks after us. "I will be your God and you will be my people." And how exactly does this Lord God look toward us? The 23rd Psalm gives us an answer: "The Lord is my Shepherd." There is someone who ultimately looks over me, and will ultimately care for me! That doesn’t mean that there will be no sorrows, woes or trials in my life in this world. But it does mean that we will not have to face those difficulties alone. "The Lord is my Shepherd" and will watch over me.

But how do we know this in the first place? We know it because of the "learning communities" we have grown up in: our families, our churches, our schools. They are the means that pass along to us the answer to: is the world a friendly place? They are the ones who teach that "The Lord is my Shepherd" no matter what happens. That’s what St. Paul is suggesting in the Second letter to Timothy: "Remain faithful to what you have learned and believed, because you know from whom you learned it, and that from infancy you have known the Sacred Scriptures, which are capable of giving you wisdom for salvation through faith in Jesus Christ." These faith convictions are passed along from person to person, from generation to generation. The person to person communication remains vital in all this. Fr. Andrew Greeley has written on numerous occasions that the greatest theological "teaching moment" in the Catholic Tradition is when a young mother takes her child for the very first time up to the Christmas crib and points out the Baby Jesus in the crib and his mother, Mary, watching over him. The young mother tells her child, "That’s the way God watches over all of us." The greatest theological teaching moment in the Catholic tradition! That’s the beginning of the "learning communities" in our lives. There are many others.

Remembering a learning moment is, in a way, a time of going back to the basics, the ABCs of our life and of our faith. We need to do this at times for our monastic life, to re-visit the periods of monastic life that shaped us and that made us who we are. It’s one of the things that’s been happening to me as I am teaching the Vatican II course to Srs. Heather Jean and Anne Louise. We are going through the Constitution on the Liturgy right now and all the events that happened in the years right after the Council are making me replay those shaping events in my own life. It’s a very vivid reliving of them. The Vatican II passage that had the most powerful, shaping effect on my priestly ministry was this: "It is by the apostolic herald of the Gospel that the People of God is called together...so that all who belong to this people...may offer themselves as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God. Through the ministry of priests the spiritual sacrifice of the faithful is completed in union with the sacrifice of Christ." (The Ministry and Life of Priests, #2) That became my vision of priesthood....in a nutshell. The ministry of the priest, in all that he does, is to bring to completion the spiritual sacrifices of the faithful.

St. Paul is calling all of us to "Remain faithful to what you have learned and believed." It’s for each of us to examine our lives in that regard.

8th Graders Serve at the Cathedral Soup Kitchen

2010-10-13T05:00:00.002-04:00

The 8th graders continue to amaze me with their essays on what serving means to them. I think you will enjoy reading their work as well.

When I went to the soup kitchen I was excited to go. As soon as I got out of the car I saw a person sleeping on the ground and at that moment I thought to myself, 'Wow!' I am so lucky I don't have to sleep on a cold floor every night, cold, hungry, tired and no one to be with. When I started to serve I thought the people would be mad and mean to me. After awhile, I realized that they were not mean at all. They had manners and were very polite. After serving for awhile this teen came up and asked for Kool-Aid. He said hi to Anzley and me. Anzley asked him how old he was. He responded, 'I'm a sophomore in high school.' After talking to him I heard him say, 'If you ever get into trouble and hear the police just put your hood up.' Anzley and I laughed but I wondered if that was why he was here...because he got into some trouble. I saw lots of people and the same question kept coming to my mind, Why are there 5 times as many guys than girls? I was told that many of the guys got involved with drugs. I wondered if the drugs prevented them from finding a girlfriend and meaningful employment. For breakfast we served cereal and donuts and a few other items. I noticed that those who took cereal also took a lot of sugar. Large dosage of sugar, I was told, can trick the body into thinking it is drugs. The room I served in was small. The people had little space to eat. People kept coming in and out. I was busy at my station where I poured the drinks. Many people took up to four glasses at a time. They were very thirsty. I must have gone through about 10 gallons of punch. I realized that the reason they drank so much was because this was their last drink until tomorrow. So, they drank as if it was their last drink on the Earth. After it was all over I looked around and I was surprised that these people were not scary like I half way expected to find them. They are funny, nice and great people to be around and to talk to. It would have been great to spend all day with these people just to talk to them and hear their story. This will be a time I will never forget. I can't wait until I get to go again.
(Austin B.)

My experience at the soup kitchen was an interesting one. The soup kitchen was an experience I will never forget. It really made me glad to have the life I have. While there I helped serve the food to the people. I mainly helped out with the salad station. I noticed there were a lot more men than women. It really just felt good knowing I was helping people in need. A lot of people, including myself, sometimes doubt how lucky they are. They want things that are not essential to life, such as toys. What they don't realize is that there are people out there who don't have a home, don't have a car, and don't have enough or possibly any money to support their families. There are many ways to help people. Donating to a charity and helping out at a local food shelter are just two of many ways. Doing this doesn't only deepen your faith, but it also moves you closer to God and His kingdom. In conclusion, my experience at the soup kitchen was an interesting, yet at the same time, new experience for me. It will always serve as a reminder to me to always follow God.
(Matthew D.)

This wasn't my first time going to a soup kitchen but, it was my first time going to the Cathedral Soup Kitchen. When we were walking through the doors there was this guy sleeping on the ground. At that point I realized how blessed I am. Austin and I were serving Kool-Aid. Every person that walked by said, 'Thank you,' or 'God bless you.' They smiled at us. Every time someone smiled at me that made me smile, too. It was the best feeling ever to know an average 14 year old girl can make a difference in the lives of others. There was a young teenager who stopped by the soup kitchen before he went to school. He told Austin and me to stay out of trouble. I was blown away at how close in age we were. I couldn't imagine what he goes through every day. This trip to the soup kitchen made me see how grateful and thankful I should be!
(Anzley H.)

8th Graders Serve at the Soup Kitchen

2010-10-11T14:22:00.005-04:00

We are all called to serve the needs of others. Here are some more reflections from my 8th graders who recently served at the Cathedral Soup Kitchen.

My experience at the soup kitchen was eye opening. When I first walked in the entrance, I saw two men laying on the floor sleeping. Next I went into the kitchen and put on an apron. Soon after that I started serving the food. One of my jobs was to pour drinks for the thirsty. Not many people said thank you, but when they did I felt good inside. We served a lot of people, I'm guessing nearly 100 or so. I noticed many different personalities. It was a great learning experience for me. I would gladly go back again.

(Annie W.)

My trip to the soup kitchen was fun. I got the chance to help people in a bad situation. The most enjoyable person I met was Allen. He had a disease where he couldn't stop talking. He talked to me about the facts of butter. He was very nice. He even stopped to pray. I think he said everything he thought. He always said, "You gotta believe me!" I think he should be an advertiser because I found him to be so interesting. Allen made my day...I hope I made his!

(Noah S.)

Going to the soup kitchen really opened my eyes to a lot of things in this world. A few of those things are that I really never knew who was homeless or who was not. The homeless people are not degenerates or people with impaired language. They are people like you and me who try to find work somewhere. They are reasonable people. The thing that made them homeless is luck. It was my luck that I got to serve the homeless instead of being homeless. When I was at the soup kitchen some things I did to help out included serving drinks. It was a hard job to do because most of the people took 2 or more glasses. So my partner and I had to pour quickly to keep up with the drink demand. After about 15 minutes of serving drinks I had the opportunity to help another man dry dishes. We talked for a little while as we washed and dried the dishes. Mrs. Buckley told me that the pantry needed to be swept. Annie, Noah and I went to go sweep. I noticed that the pantry had an organ inside. I asked, "Can I play the organ?" In response to my question Mrs. Buckley said, "Yes." I started playing and soon realized that I didn't have nearly enough octaves. So I played what I could. After we finished putting away the leftovers we left the soup kitchen knowing we did the will of God!

(Peter O)

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time

2010-10-10T16:11:00.002-04:00

Readings: 2 Kgs 5:14-17; 2 Tim 2:8-13; Lk 17:11-19

There’s a strange little passage in the first reading this morning that deserves some comment. After Naaman the Syrian was cured of his leprosy and the prophet refused a gift in return, Naaman asks for two mule-loads of earth. What’s the meaning of that? To understand the significance of that seemingly odd event we must remember the special place that the land of Israel has in the whole of the Jewish faith. The land (eretz Israel) was the very first promise of the Lord God to Abraham: "Go from your country....to a land that I will show you." (Gen 12:1) The land—the actual physical soil and dirt—always has a special place in Jewish faith. The land of Israel is the best and finest place to worship the Lord God. That’s what Naaman wants two mule-loads of earth for: to build in his native country his own little plot of "the land of Israel" so he can worship the Lord God there...on the actual land (dirt) of Israel. That same reverence for the actual land of Israel continued through the centuries in Jewish belief and practice. For example, the best place to be buried was in the land of Israel. But since Jews were spread all over the world, how could that happen? They kept little bags of dirt which had been taken from the land of Israel when they or some of their friends visited there and had them placed inside their coffins. So they could be buried in the land of Israel.

This special reverence for the actual land of Israel is one of the issues that separates Judaism from Christianity. Very early on the followers of Jesus moved away from this special attachment to the land. The key reason seems to have been their recognition that God’s Spirit moved on people who were outside the traditional land and faith of Israel. In the eleventh chapter of Acts Peter is describing to the community in Jerusalem how he had seen the Spirit of God descend upon Gentiles, and "when they heard this, they were silenced. And they praised God saying, Then God has given even to the Gentiles the repentance that leads to life." (Acts 11:18) The practical result of this was that "place" no longer mattered in the Christian perspective. You could be just as good a Christian whether you were in Jerusalem or Antioch or Rome. You could be a "good" Jew outside the land of Israel; but you could only be a "best" Jew in it.

And yet even within Christianity there is still something to be said for a recognition of some special places as holy and sacred. The study of the history of religions automatically includes sacred space and place as one of its primary categories whereby the holy is manifested. One of the tragic losses of our modern, mobile society is the loss by so many people of being able to identify a particular place or space as their own, "where they belong."

We Benedictine monastics have a little advantage there. The very structure of Benedictine life imparts a feeling of the sacredness of a place. Benedict never directly talks about that in his Rule, but it flows rather naturally from his insistence that the tools of the monastery should be treated as the "vessels of the altar." There’s a sense that "this is a holy place." And the Benedictine charism through the ages has seen the monastery as a sacred space. You can feel it as you walk through the ancient monastic buildings all over Europe. It’s here too in the United States. If you live in a place day after day and deal with all the people there, it may not seem like a very holy place. Visitors feel it more sharply. I’ve spoken to some of your visitors here at the monastery and heard things like, "This place is a God-send for me." I heard another lady say, "This place is a little bit of heaven for me." But it remains for us to again and again grab the appreciation that this little piece of ground here in Beech Grove is a sacred place, a place where God is especially worshiped.

The question that this reading of Scripture asks each of us is: what little bag of dirt would you like placed in your coffin?

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time

2010-10-03T15:23:00.001-04:00

Readings: Hab 1:2-3, 2:2-4; 2 Tim 1:6-14; Lk 17:5-10

In 1981 Rabbi Harold Kushner wrote a little book that became a national best-seller, When Bad Things Happen to Good People. He wrote it after his own young son died of a rare childhood disease. Millions of people bought the book and read it because they identified with the premise in the title of the book. Evidently there were a lot of bad things that happened to a lot of good people. But Rabbi Kushner in the book was merely restating the message we heard in today’s first reading from the prophet Habakkuk. "I cry for help, but you do not listen. ... Why do you let me see ruin? ... Destruction and violence are before me." The answer that Habakkuk receives from the Lord is hardly satisfying. The Lord says: "Wait! Fulfillment will happen. ... Just wait. The just one will live by faith." That’s basically the same answer that Rabbi Kushner gave in his book.

But there’s a subtle meaning that’s often missed here. We, as Christians, have heard that passage from Habakkuk frequently. Mostly because St. Paul quotes it directly in his letter to the Romans as do other New Testament authors (Hb 10:38-39). But already in these New Testament passages an added dimension of meaning has appeared. The word "live" has begun to signify the reward that will be received after death. "Live" in this context means the reward of eternal life. But that’s not what was the meaning intended by the prophet Habakkuk. In the time he was writing—some six hundred years before Christ—the Jews had no belief in life after death. That won’t come along for another four hundred and fifty years. What Habakkuk really meant was that, even in the face of destruction and violence, one who is just still lives with faith in God’s promise. That means being a hope-filled person when everything seems hopeless. Now that’s a lot tougher message.

The prophet puts these words into the mouth of God: the just one lives by faith. What God wants—that is, for one to be righteous before God—is for you to be a hope-filled person. (The word, faith, in this context has the special meaning of hope.) Especially in times of great difficulty, when the chances of coming through this difficult time don’t seem very good. In the news lately there have been lots of reports about the two young men from Westfield, IN who disappeared during a plane flight in Alaska. The plane disappeared a month ago and searchers could find no trace of it. Then some partial wreckage was found a few days ago, but no sign of any persons. During this whole ordeal the young men’s parents have been in Alaska. The mother says over and over to reporters: "We just try to have hope." That’s being a hope-filled person in a time of great difficulty. The prophet Habakkuk would understand very well.

The story of Habakkuk is being played out in multiple dramas all the time. You just have to go out and read all the requests on your prayer board. There are many there who probably feel exactly like the prophet—overwhelmed with the challenges of life they face. We, as Christian ministers, have to try and help them be hoped-filled persons, despite overwhelming odds. I always like something that Harold Kushner wrote at the beginning of his book on the 23rd Psalm. He wrote: "God’s promise was never that life would be fair. God’s promise was that, when we had to confront the unfairness of life, we would not have to do it alone for God would be with us."(p. 3) The prophet Habakkuk would surely shout: Amen. In summing up the significance of the 23rd Psalm Kushner uses words that Habakkuk would agree with: "In his despair, the Psalmist cried out to God, and a miracle happened. The miracle was not that the dead came back to life, or that the man’s health and wealth were restored. The miracle was that he (again) found life worth living." (p. 11) The miracle was that he (once again) found life worth living. That’s beautifully said.

Jesus' October Message

2010-10-01T10:45:00.000-04:00

Each month, Anne, a lay apostle, receives a message from Jesus. This is the message for October. To read more about the locutions Anne receives from Jesus and His Blessed Mother click on this link: Direction For Our Times.

My dear apostles, you are proceeding through your time on earth amidst many changes. Exteriorly, there is a great deal of motion and upset, which affects God’s children. Some are affected negatively and some are affected positively. Who is affected positively when there is suffering? I ask you this because I want you to view suffering from the perspective of one who trusts in God and trusts in God’s plan for all of His children. If you trust God, then suffering is viewed more simply, whether it is your suffering or the suffering of those around you. If you are suffering, then you are called to endure, but not without God and not without God’s grace. If someone near you is suffering, then you are called to offer compassion and even assistance if possible. You have the grace to understand your role and to understand your response, whether in your own suffering or in the suffering of those around you. In every experience in life, temptation is possible. If all is going well for you, then you may be tempted to become complacent about your response to the many graces I give you. I would prefer that during times of relative ease, you praise Me and be alert to helping others. If all is not going well, there may be a temptation to believe that your prayers are not heard by God. I would prefer that you use these times to practice trusting Me. Offer your suffering to Me with a heart that shares My experience willingly, not resentfully. Dear apostles, we are together, you and I. The unity we share was always intended by the Father. All is well. Do not be tempted against Me if you are suffering. I will never leave you and I will use your suffering in ways you do not understand yet. You will understand later and you will be so grateful to Me because I offered you these learning experiences. Rejoice. I am always with you.

8th Graders Serve at the Cathedral Soup Kitchen

2010-09-30T06:05:00.003-04:00

It is a new school year...and another opportunity to serve at the soup kitchen. Each week or so I'll post three short essays written by 8th graders who served the neighbors at the Cathedral Soup Kitchen. Truly, the people who are being fed...are my students. We had a marvelous conversation in religion class yesterday about how taking time to serve the needs of others really deepens our relationship with Christ. I have some rather amazing 8th graders as you will soon discover when you read their reflections.

Volunteering at the Cathedral Kitchen was a great learning experience. When I first arrived at the Kitchen I saw a homeless man sitting in the corner of the entrance. I heard him say that he wakes up every day with a positive attitude. That made me feel inspired because even in an awful situation he doesn't give up. At the kitchen I mostly helped serve juice. It was shocking how many people were hungry and walked in the door to this tiny dining room. At the same time I was happy they were getting food because who knows when the last time they ate? When Mrs. Buckley told me that volunteers do this serving everyday I was amazed at how much effort they put in and that they really care! (Hannah B.)

My experience at the Soup Kitchen was truly satisfying, gratifying and amazing. I will never forget this experience. You could say that it stained me forever. When we first arrived at the Kitchen, I saw two guys who slept there to keep warm. As we walked into the building the other volunteers gave us our jobs. Hannah and I handed out the drinks while Colin served the salad. This guy came in singing and dancing to music. Colin and I were asked to sweep and mop the store room. It was amazing to see that we helped change the lives of some people. I can't wait to go back! (Lauren H.)

When I went to the Soup Kitchen I felt happy. At first it smelled kind of funny. But, as some friendly people came through the door, I felt good about helping. Overall, it was a good experience. I felt good about myself when I helped people who were down on their luck. The people at the Kitchen were friendly and so were the people we served. It was a good trip and it was nice to give a helping hand. I look forward to going back. (Colin C.)

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time

2010-09-28T16:00:00.002-04:00

Readings: Amos 6:1-7; 1st Tim 6:11-16; Lk 16:19-31

You know how you can get a certain tune in your head and it just keeps popping up again and again. You can even find yourselves humming it out loud at different times of the day. That happened to me this past week after I had read through the Scripture readings we have just heard. Only it wasn’t a tune that struck me; it was a particular phrase, "the noble confession." One who is a Christian makes a noble confession. It just seemed such an unusual but striking way of describing the profession of faith that’s made at Baptism and which we renew each year at the Paschal Vigil service on Holy Saturday.

The very use of the phrase, "the noble confession," reminds us that the sacrament of Baptism is an action that is both passive and active. We tend most of the time to accent the passive side. Language usage tends to assure that. Baptism is something that we receive; we are baptized and made members of the Body of Christ, the Church. But Baptism also essentially includes the noble confession, the active profession of faith in our lives. We say openly what we believe and strive to live it out in love.

It was the Second Vatican Council in the 1960s which proclaimed a much richer and broader view of the sacrament of Baptism. When I was growing up in grade school and high school baptism meant one thing—taking away the guilt of Original Sin. That was about it. The Council, however, recaptured a much richer understanding of baptism which had actually existed long ago in the early centuries of the Christian Church. Baptism unites us to the Paschal Mystery of Christ. Baptism makes us members of the People of God. Baptism gives us a share in the offices of Christ as Priest, Prophet and King.

This new attitude toward Baptism also had an impact on how the Catholic Church views other Christian Churches. Instead of an attitude of opposition there appeared a new bondedness between us because we share the same baptism in Christ. They too have made "the noble confession." The council fathers stated this new bond of connection very concisely: "For all those who believe in Christ and have been truly baptized are in communion with the Catholic Church even though this communion is imperfect. The differences that exist in varying degrees between them and the Catholic Church do indeed create many obstacles.... to full ecclesiastical communion. .... But even in spite of them it remains true that all who have been justified by faith in Baptism are members of Christ's body and have a right to be called Christian, and so are correctly accepted as brothers and sisters by the children of the Catholic Church)" (UR #3, 22)

This new bondedness was shown in several changes in our active relationships with other Christian Churches. These were detailed in the Ecumenical Directory (1993), published by the Vatican, to regulate interactions between Catholics and other Christians. I’d like to mention a few of those. Some of these you may already know and some you may not. 1) A Catholic may act as a Christian witness (not a godparent) in the baptism of a member of another Christian church. Likewise a member of another Christian community may be a Christian witness in a Catholic baptism. (#98) 2) A Catholic may act as an official witness (bridesmaid or best man) in the wedding of a member of another Christian church. Likewise such a member may witness a Catholic wedding. (#136) 3) In certain circumstances access to these sacraments (Eucharist, penance and anointing) may be permitted or even commended for Christians of other Churches and ecclesial communities.(#129). 4) Catholics are allowed occasionally to attend the liturgical services of other Christian churches for a good reason, e.g. a public function, blood relationship or friendship, the desire to be better informed, etc. But they should not receive communion. (#107) All of this comes as a result of the fact that we all share in "the noble confession" of Christian faith which we have all made in the sacrament of Baptism. Let’s live it fully.

Fr. Matthias Neuman's Homily for the 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time

2010-09-19T15:46:00.003-04:00

Readings: Amos 8:4-7; 1 Timothy 2:1-8; Luke 16:1-13

The parable in today’s gospel is one of the most confusing of Jesus’ parables, even to biblical scholars. It seems to raise far more questions than it answers. And I suspect that the ordinary man or woman in the pew listening to this must be thinking: why in the world is Jesus praising the dishonest servant? In effect, the dishonest servant stole from his master twice....and the master praises him. This surely is a puzzler. In fact, many scripture scholars believe that the last sections of the parable were added later by other writers to provide possible interpretations. Even in the first century people were having trouble figuring it out.

The only exegete who offered an insight that I found credible was a scholar I had consulted many times before, Prof. Norman Perrin. He notes that there are two presuppositions that must be remembered to render this parable intelligible. The first is that Jesus often taught as a wisdom teacher. And wisdom teachers sometimes made use of non-wise individuals in their teaching. Sometimes an unwise person can do a very wise thing. It happens. Secondly, in a parable there’s only one point that matters—just one. So in this parable Jesus is describing a disreputable individual who does a very wise thing—he takes action when he is faced with a personal crisis. That’s the only point that matters. That fits in very well with Jesus’ teaching on the Kingdom of God. He says over and over: the Kingdom of God is here; you need to act on it. The Presence of God is in your midst. Respond to it.

That’s all well and good. The first step is the decision to take action, to do something in response to God. Then the harder part comes: what exactly is to be done? It seems that just about anything religious these days is confusing. Situations are so complicated. There are too many conflicting voices. We live in an exceedingly complex world. Whether it’s a serious decision about end-of-life issues or just "what should I do in a family dispute"...multiple, conflicting courses of action present themselves. We may want to take action, to do the loving thing, to do the Christian thing. But what that is....is not always easily determined.

I always get a lot of support in situations like this from St. Augustine. I have to say a little bit about Augustine himself. In recent years he’s gotten a lot of bad press about some things he wrote and said about sin and sexuality and dying babies. He said those things when he was a very old man and he had gotten cranky. People forget (or don’t know) that for thirty years before that, he was an exemplary bishop. He was known for his great pastoral compassion in guiding and dealing with people. That’s brought out beautifully in this insightful little book by Theodore Tack, As One Struggling Christian to Another: Augustine’s Christian Ideal for Today. Augustine knew very well, from his own life, how struggling it can be to try and do the Christian thing. Augustine lived in a time when the Roman world was falling apart. Germanic tribes from the north were dissolving a way of life that had existed for over seven hundred years. People were scared and confused. It would perhaps surprise us to know some of the issues that Augustine preached about on Sundays in his cathedral: terrorism, drugs, live-in marriages, divisions in the Church. Sound a bit familiar?

Augustine knew well that any religious decisions are difficult and often unclear. He advised his people that "you just have to do the best you can." He said there are two ways you can prepare yourself for a difficult decision. The first obviously is prayer, to earnestly ask the Spirit of God to guide you in your decision. The second, less obviously, is to do a little gardening. Put yourself in a nurturing mood. And then make the decision to do the loving thing as you see it. In the parable today Jesus says: Act now. Augustine would then add: "Indeed, but know that the decision is not always going to be clear cut what you should do. Pray, do a little gardening, and then make the best decision you can."