The Eve of Pilgrimage

Tomorrow I’ll be going with 28 other pilgrims to visit Sacred Heart and Apostleship of Prayer sites in France.  Juan Landa of Mater Dei Tours is leading this pilgrimage that has been in the works for several years. I’ll be the spiritual guide.

I have to admit that today, as I try to tie up loose ends in the office and then go home to pack, I’m a bit stressed.  I tend to like routines and the familiar.  Recently I was asked: “If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?” And of all the exotic choices possible, I said: “I’d go to our Jesuit villa house on nearby Lake Five.”  With all the traveling I do, it would be nice to just be in one spot in a natural setting.

That being said, I am also looking forward to the pilgrimage to the basilica dedicated to the Sacred Heart in Paris, and to the home and convent of St. Therese who enrolled in the Apostleship of Prayer when she was twelve. I’m looking forward to visiting the parish of the patron saint of all priests, St. John Vianney, in Ars.  And I’ve heard so much about Lourdes and the Eucharistic and Rosary processions there that I’m anticipating an experience of a lifetime.

Perhaps the highlight will be Paray-le-Monial, where Jesus revealed his Heart to St. Margaret Mary and through her to the world. I’ll celebrate Mass there on June 27, the Feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

As I prepare for the pilgrimage I am also aware of something else.  A pilgrimage is a microcosm of life. I am on a journey to the Lord.  My temptation is to feel that I am in the “driver’s seat” of life, but the reality is that life is more like flying than driving. I am not in control.  I need to learn to surrender and trust.  That isn’t easy, but I know that it’s ultimately the source of interior peace and it prepares me to experience the providence of God in new and wonderful ways. 

And so, in my final hours of preparation for pilgrimage, I return to the slogan that many people in various 12 Step programs have found so helpful.  I let go and let God.  I let go of trying to be in control and let God show me his loving care that will be more than I could hope for. I trust.

The itinerary can be found here. At each holy site I’ll be lifting up in prayer my friends, family, and the Apostleship of Prayer.

Ordination Anniversary

Today is the 31^st anniversary of my ordination. I celebrated Mass for our staff and a group of young mothers who come every month to help us stuff envelopes while Grace, our children’s ministry director, watches their children.  I was grateful for the opportunity to celebrate Mass with this small group today.

In the first reading (1 Kings 17: 7-16) the prophet Elijah asks a widow to bring him something to eat and drink and tells her “”The jar of flour shall not go empty, nor the jug of oil run dry….” God can take a little and make it last. In the hands of Jesus, five loaves and two fish can feed thousands. What’s required is trusting surrender.

In the gospel today (Matthew 5: 13-16) Jesus tells the apostles that they are salt and light. A little salt goes a long way to season a meal, to leaven, and to preserve. Salt is not meant to call attention to itself, but to bring out the best in something else. Similarly, we do not stare at a light.  It is there not for itself but to help people see.    

In light of these readings, I couldn’t help thinking about how God took a little and has used it to do a lot. The little is me.  In high school, college, and my early life in the Jesuits I was shy and self-conscious. I feared being called upon in the classroom because I was very nervous talking in front of a group. In the novitiate I was tongue-tied every time we offered spontaneous prayers together and my novice master challenged me, wondering if I should leave the Jesuits because at the rate I was going I probably wouldn’t be ordained and placed in the position where I would pray with people. 

Now, years later, I speak on the radio and in front of groups all the time.  What happened? Grace.  God’s grace at work in me.  And I’m convinced that this grace was channeled into my life through the prayers and sacrifices of many, many good people who have been praying for me over the years. 

Knowing where I’ve come from and what I used to be like, I am humbled.  I can’t take credit for what I do. As I try to be salt and light for others, all glory goes to God who has made it possible.  As Jesus said in today’s gospel, “your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father.”

The Holy Spirit, the Reconciler

I celebrated Mass this morning for the Sisters of St. Francis at Clare Hall today. Here is my homily:

In today’s gospel (John 20: 19-23), Jesus confronts the fear of the apostles on the evening of his resurrection. They had huddled together behind locked doors, afraid that they would be crucified next. And, no doubt, they were afraid when Jesus suddenly appeared before their eyes. Is he a ghost? Has he returned to condemn them for abandoning him in his hour of need? Jesus said, “Peace be with you,” and showed them his wounds, the signs of his everlasting love. He repeated, “Peace be with you.”

Fear divides people and leads to conflict and war. The Original Sin had its roots in fear. Our ancestral parents were afraid that God had not told them the truth about the trees in their garden. Could they really trust God? Wouldn’t it be better to get control, to have power, so that they would not have to depend on God?

Fear led to mistrust which led to rebellion. The result was immediate: separation and alienation from God and each other. Division.

Jesus came to take away sin and division. He came to reconcile humanity to God and to one another, to bring unity amidst diversity instead of division. He sent the Holy Spirit to continue this work of reconciliation and peace-making.

As a result, there are many different tongues or languages but one message. There are many parts but one body. There are many different gifts, forms of service, and workings but “the same Spirit,” “the same Lord,” “the same God” (see the second reading, 1 Corinthians 12: 3-7, 12-13).  Notice the Trinitarian formula: Spirit, Lord, God, or Holy Spirit, Lord Jesus, God the Father.  The Holy Trinity is the source of unity in diversity because this is God’s very nature—a Communion of Divine Persons.  Three and One, as we will celebrate next Sunday on the Feast of the Most Holy Trinity.

Humanity is made in the image and likeness of God who is diverse and one.  Human beings are not isolated individuals.  Fear and sin isolate and divide.  The Holy Spirit renews the image of God in humanity and brings about the communion of persons, making the many parts into one body. 

Jesus commissions the apostles in the gospel to continue his work of reconciliation and peace-making: “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”  He empowers the Church to overcome sin that divides, breathing on the apostles and saying, “Receive the Holy Spirit. Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and whose sins you retain are retained.” 

What does this retention of sin mean?  Reconciliation is a two-way street. One who has been hurt badly may extend forgiveness to the offending party, but if the other does not admit the wrong, accept responsibility for it, recognize the need for forgiveness and receive it from the one extending it, then reconciliation has not occurred. The sin is retained.  Forgiveness was extended but not accepted.

We must, like God, be always ready to forgive. And when the forgiveness we extend is not received, we must continue to pray, sacrifice, and make reparation, as Jesus did. We must do all we can to repair the damage that sin has caused, the division.

This is what it means to be filled with the Holy Spirit. This is what it means to carry on Jesus’ work of reconciliation and peace-making.

Jesuit Ordinations

This morning five Jesuits of what in two years will be the Midwest Province of the Society of Jesus were ordained in Milwaukee.  I was there in the Church of the Gesu where I was ordained almost 31 years ago.  Celebrating the ordinations there always brings back memories of my own, especially this year when Milwaukee’s emeritus auxiliary bishop, Richard Sklba, who ordained me, presided.  As I entered the church and greeted Bishop Sklba, he said that last night he went over the list of those he had ordained and he pointed to me, indicating that he had thought about and prayed for me. 

This year, in addition to the moment when I laid hands on each of the five Jesuits, I was moved by two other things. 

One was the instruction that Bishop Sklba gave when the newly ordained priests knelt before him to receive the paten and chalice which had just been brought up by family members at the Presentation of the Gifts. He said: “Receive from the Holy People of God the gifts to be offered to God. Know what you do, imitate what you celebrate, and conform your life to the cross.”

These words spoke to me of sacrifice. I was reminded of words from St. John XXIII’s encyclical “On the Priesthood,” written for the centenary of St. John Vianney’s death. He quoted Pope Pius XII: “Just as the entire life of Our Savior was ordered to the sacrifice of Himself, so likewise the life of the priest, who ought to bring out the image of Christ in himself, must be made a pleasing sacrifice with Him, in Him, and through Him…. For this reason he must not only celebrate the Eucharistic Sacrifice, but even in a certain intimate way live it. For thus he can obtain that heavenly strength by which it comes about that he is entirely transformed and shares in the expiatory life of the Divine Redeemer Himself.”  And, St. John added this further quote from Pope Pius XII: “Thus it is necessary that the priestly soul should strive to reproduce in itself whatever is accomplished on the altar of sacrifice.”

After Communion there was reflection song written by the Filipino Jesuit Manoling Francisco called “Your Heart Today.”  It spoke of having a heart like the Heart of Jesus, the priestly heart which all the baptized faithful—lay and ordained—are called to have.  That priestly heart is a heart that is willing to give all, to sacrifice all for others.  It is a heart that is broken as it commits itself to healing a broken world.  It is a heart conformed to the Pierced Heart of Jesus.  Here are the lyrics:

WHERE THERE IS FEAR, I CAN ALLAY
WHERE THERE IS PAIN, I CAN HEAL
WHERE THERE ARE WOUNDS, I CAN BIND
AND HUNGER, I CAN FILL

REFRAIN:

LORD, GRANT ME COURAGE
LORD, GRANT ME STRENGTH
GRANT ME COMPASSION
THAT I MAY BE YOUR HEART TODAY

WHERE THERE IS HATE, I CAN CONFRONT
WHERE THERE ARE YOKES, I CAN RELEASE
WHERE THERE ARE CAPTIVES, I CAN FREE
AND ANGER, I CAN APPEASE

REFRAIN

BRIDGE:

WHEN COMES THE DAY I DREAD
TO SEE A BROKEN WORLD
COMPEL ME FROM MY CELL GROWN COLD
THAT YOUR PEOPLE I MAY BEHOLD

WHERE THERE IS FEAR, I CAN ALLAY
WHERE THERE IS PAIN, I CAN HEAL
WHERE THERE ARE WOUNDS, I CAN BIND
AND HUNGER, I CAN FILL

REFRAIN

AND WHEN I’VE DONE, ALL THAT I COULD
YET THERE ARE HEARTS, I CANNOT MOVE
LORD GIVE ME HOPE
THAT I MAY BE YOUR HEART TODAY

Christ's Ascension and Ours



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According to the first chapter in the Acts of the Apostles, Jesus “was lifted up” in front of his followers “and a cloud took him from their sight.” Jesus disappeared. Does this mean that Jesus is no longer “Emmanuel” or “God-with-us”?  No. Jesus remains with us in the Blessed Sacrament; he comes to us in the Eucharist.  Now we have a connection with heaven where Jesus is with the Father and yet remains close to us.  In the Ascension Jesus passes beyond space and time and is no longer limited to just one place. 

Pope Benedict XVI wrote about this mystery in the second volume of his work Jesus of Nazareth:

Christ, at the Father’s right hand, is not far away from us. At most we are far from him, but the path that joins us to one another is open. And this path is not a matter of space travel of a cosmic-geographical nature: it is the “space travel” of the heart, from the dimension of self-enclosed isolation to the new dimension of world-embracing divine love (p.286).

In the Sacred Heart of Jesus there is no distance. All are one with one another and with Jesus.  St. Paul taught that the Body of Christ is one (see 1 Corinthians 12: 12-27).  Christ is the Head and Heart of the Body. 

The Ascension of Jesus assures us that where the Head has gone, the Body will follow. 
Pope Francis uses the concrete image of mountain climbing to describe this reality:

The Ascension of Jesus into heaven acquaints us with the deeply consoling reality on our journey: Christ opened the path to us. He is like a roped guide climbing a mountain who, on reaching the summit, pulls us up to him and leads us to God. If we entrust our life to him, if we let ourselves be guided by him, we are certain to be in safe hands, in the hands of our Savior, of our Advocate. Dear brothers and sisters, the Ascension does not point to Jesus’ absence, but also tells us that he is alive in our midst in a new way. He is no longer in a specific place in the world as he was before the Ascension. He is now in the lordship of God, present in every space and time, close to each one of us.  In our life we are never alone: we have this Advocate who awaits us, who defends us. We are never alone: the Crucified and Risen Lord guides us.

The Ascension is one mystery with two very consoling consequences: we are never alone and in Jesus the human race has arrived in heaven.