Parish Bulletin for Sunday, February 7, 2010

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Isa. 6:1-2, 3-8 1    Cor. 15:1-11    Luke 5:1-11

The Struggle to Love - The Struggle to Trust

"Surrender and abandonment are like a deep, inviting, frightening ocean into which we are drawn. We make excursions into it to test it, to see whether it's safe, to enjoy the sensation of it. But, for all kinds of reasons, we always go back to dry land, to solid ground, to where we are safe. But the ocean beckons us out anew and we risk again being afloat in something bigger than ourselves. And we keep doing that, wading in and then going back to safety, until one day, when we are ready, we just let the waters carry us away"

Perhaps the most important thing we ever need to learn is this: It is safe to love! Yes, it is safe to be vulnerable because we are in loving hands. It is safe to surrender because we fall into light, not darkness. It is safe to be weak because the strength we need is found when we give up on our own power. It is safe to give up the hurts we cling to because these lose their force when we are in love. It is safe to trust, to let our loved ones be free, because a power beyond us loves them more than we do and ultimately takes care of their safety.

It is safe to give ourselves over without fear because, as faith teaches, in the end, all will be well. And it is safe to live our lives with daring because God, as Julian Norwich assures us, sits in heaven, smiling, completely relaxed, his face looking like a marvellous symphony. The world is ultimately safe. It is safe to love.

But it's not easy to believe that. Perhaps if we had all been loved perfectly, had perfect confidence, and had never been wounded, disappointed, betrayed, or made to cry tears of regret, we would find it easier to believe that it is safe, that we can trust, that we have no need to protect ourselves, and that we do not need to be forever anxious about how we are measuring up, how we are being perceived, how we are being understood, and whether we are worthy of love.

Most of the time we find it hard to trust because we find ourselves wounded, lacking confidence, anxious about many things, feeling the need to protect ourselves. It is hard to trust and especially it is hard to show weakness and to be vulnerable. In the air we breathe everywhere (sometimes even in our most intimate relationships) we inhale a distrust that makes us want to show a superior strength, attractiveness, talent, intelligence, self-reliance, and cool detachment.

Distrust and self-protection are everywhere. It's hard to let ourselves be vulnerable, to trust that it is safe to love. And yet, deep down, vulnerability and surrender are what we most deeply want. At every level, we need and want surrender.

Morally and religiously, the entire gospels can be put into one word: Surrender. Emotionally, psychologically, and sexually the deepest imperative inside of us is simply: Surrender. And, deeper than all of our anxieties and our need to protect ourselves, lies a truth we know at the core of our being, namely, that in the end we cannot take care of ourselves, we cannot make ourselves whole, and we cannot hide our weakness from each other.

We need to surrender, to trust, to let ourselves fall into stronger and safer hands than our own. But in order to do this we need to trust, trust that it is safe to love, to let go, to reveal who we really are, to show weakness, to not have to pretend that we are whole and self-reliant. This, as we know, is not easy to do.

Indeed, on any given day and at any given moment, it is impossible for us to feel safe, to give ourselves over, to be vulnerable. And so we generally risk the cold misery of detachment rather than risk being misunderstood, rejected, shamed, or seen as needy. How do we move towards trust? There is no easy way, no simple formula, no magic bullet, and simply realizing where we need to go is not enough to get us there.

How can we get there? How do we pull the trigger on trust? This is a journey that takes a lifetime. To master this is to be a saint. So we shouldn't be surprised if we still find ourselves a long way from where we want to be. For this reason, God in all love and compassion has sent guides and mentors to move among us, to help us discern the face, touch and handiwork of God by pointing our searching eyes, minds and hearts in the right direction.

In today's sacred texts, we become acquainted yet again with some of these keen discerners of the workings of God. Although we call them by different names - prophet, disciple, evangelist, pastor - all are essentially believers whose privilege and responsibility it is to lead others to discover God. It is God who is the Source of love. It is God in whom we trust.

Read again the great stories in today's readings - Isaiah, Paul, Peter, James and John, and pay attention to the words that began this reflection - surrender and love. Isaiah tried to keep the eyes of his people solely on God. When God seemed elusive, or deaf to their entreaties, Isaiah kept his focus. Paul held out the truth of the Gospel and the power of Jesus to save.

Today's second reading celebrates the proclamation of Jesus and reminds all who search for meaning in their lives that unless that search leads them to Jesus, all their seeking is in vain. But for those who seek with eyes of faith and ears open in hope, the suffering, death and resurrection of Jesus will become a source of life here and hereafter.

In today's Gospel, we meet Peter, James and John, who thought they had found their place in life as fishermen. No doubt Isaiah of Jerusalem had the same sense of himself as he served his people as high priest. Paul, too, had known security in his vocation as a Pharisee, with the responsibility to keep his community orthodox and free of heretical elements. But when the presence of God broadened their spiritual horizons, Isaiah and Paul, Peter, James and John realized that their life's search had only just begun.

These ancestors of our faith were called to discover the plan of God for them in ever new and evolving circumstances. Isaiah the priest would also be Isaiah the prophet; Paul the persecutor would become Paul the proclaimer of the Good News of Jesus; and Peter, James and John would help others to find the face of God in the words and works of Jesus Christ. We honour our ancestors in faith by continuing their mission. Now it is our turn to help others recognize the face of God - to travel with us the path to love and to trust

That all our beloved dead, especially

TUESDAY, Feb. 9

Weekday 8:30 a.m. - † Victor Threshmma

WEDNESDAY, Feb. 10

Weekday 8:30 a.m. - † Giovanni Cesta

FRIDAY, Feb. 12

Weekday 8:30 a.m. - † Diniz and Nelson Raposo

may know the refreshment, rest, and peace of God's heavenly kingdom . . . that all those who grieve may know God's comfort and consolation . . .We pray.

For the sick, especially for all those who have asked for our prayers . . . for healing for all those who are sick . . . for courage for those in pain . . . for those who feel forgotten . . . We pray.

Parish Bulletin for Sunday, February 14, 2010

Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Jer. 17:5-8 1     Cor. 15:12-16-20     Luke 6:17, 20-26

Seeking Blessedness

It would be a mistake to regard the blessings and woes of this Gospel as pious platitudes. On the contrary, each proclamation is a powerful zinger. These statements take the accepted standards and politics of both Jesus' time and ours and turn them upside down. But this upheaval, which has become an integral aspect of the lives of believers, did not begin with the Lucan Jesus' sermon on the plain. Much earlier, the evangelist portrayed Jesus' mother Mary as the herald of a coming reign where the mighty and rich would fall and the poor and lowly would be lifted up.

Jesus continued to press this stance, assuring the least ones of this world that they had the ear of God. Indeed, intercession on their behalf had become flesh in the person of Jesus. When the poor and the hungry, the weeping and the hated were pronounced "blessed" by Jesus, those who did not believe, and even some of those who did, may have found his words laughable.

What good is poverty? What good hunger or sorrow or rejection? These are struggles that most sensible people would rather avoid. Much more appealing are riches, full bellies and joyous laughs. However, careful listeners will notice Jesus clearly stated that those who enjoy all these things "have received your consolation." Riches here and now are their own reward here and now, but when here and now evolves into eternity, riches, which we can't take with us, will be no more.

However, it will not be so for the poor, the hungry, the sorrowing and the hated. These experiences of want and suffering create a void in which we can learn reliance on God. Those who experience this void, and look to God to fill up what is lacking, are the heirs of the kingdom - where there is no more hunger, weeping, pain or struggle. This is the great reversal of which Mary sang, which Jesus came to bring among us.

So when we hear these beatitudes, what will we do? Will we embrace a worldly politic, or will we accept the ways of the kingdom? Settle for present but fleeting pleasure and profit, or look to Jesus and embrace a set of values that will put us at odds with the world? Will we take seriously the challenge of the Great Sermon, or will Jesus' words continue to describe a way of life that has yet to be taken seriously?

From the time the Lucan Jesus first spoke the blessings and woes that we have come to call the Great Sermon, many have tried to spiritualise and thereby sterilize the powerful impact of these words and their challenges. Some regard the beatitudes as a happier and much improved version of the Ten Commandments. They say that here believers are encouraged and even rewarded with blessedness for doing what is right, rather than forbidden by a stern series of thou shalt nots. Others insist that the promised blessings of the Great Sermon should be postponed into the future - "Struggle now and be rewarded later." But this attitude toward Jesus' teaching also fails to recognize its urgency.

In Greek, the beatitudes are exclamations about present reality, as in "Now, blessings and the kingdom of God for the poor! Now, mercy for the merciful! Now, satisfaction for the hungry! Now! Now!" The beatitudes speak to the heart of society's values and institutions. They offer, here and now, an alternative to materialism, capitalism and the drive for power. Poverty offers a warmer welcome to God than riches; hunger can find God faster than overindulgence; weeping opens the way to the experience of divine comfort; and earning the hatred and rejection of others enables one to understand the mind, heart and motivation of Jesus himself.

Through his words and works, Jesus challenged a world driven by greed and violence. The beatitudes purposely disorient the proud and the complacent and invite all who will listen to see the world differently and to welcome the new world order that has become present in Jesus. A person has to be open and empty in order to let God and others come in. If we want to love and be loved we need to have space at the centre of who we are.

Consider a rich person who has everything. Isn't he tempted to let his possessions define who he is? "Attack my property and you attack me," he might say. Possessions become an instead of. Instead of love I choose something more stable: cars or boats or corporations or just plain power. Instead of eating just what we need, we eat what we want! The principle running through all the beatitudes is this: you are blessed if you don't cram yourself full. Full of food, drink, pride, drugs, fame, sex, visits to the beach, stunning hair-do's, flattest abs, shiny teeth, fast cars, every kind of wealth, and, of course, reputation, reputation, reputation.

Instead, blessed are you if you stay empty, if you become a spacious home for God, for other human beings, for the long-suffering earth. That's it. We are built to be people who know they are empty and yet are patient. There is only one reality, only one Being who can give us the bread of life, who can satisfy our deep capacity for love. Don't you want to welcome that being into your soul instead of flying around at the fastest pace possible having fun, fun, fun?

Blessed are you if you let go into his arms.

That all our beloved dead, especially

TUESDAY, Feb. 16

Weekday 8:30 a.m. - † Enid Miranda

THURSDAY, Feb. 18

Weekday 8:30 a.m. - † Jack Williams

FRIDAY, Feb. 19

Weekday 8:30 a.m. - † Mary Waychison

may know the refreshment, rest, and peace of God's heavenly kingdom . . . that all those who grieve may know God's comfort and consolation . . .We pray.

For the sick, especially for all those who have asked for our prayers . . . for healing for all those who are sick . . . for courage for those in pain . . . for those who feel forgotten . . . We pray.

ASH WEDNESDAY – Feb. 17, 2010 Matthew 6:1-6,   16-18

MASS TIMES:     8:30 A.M. and 7:00 P.M.
Ashes are distributed only during Mass.

How many times have you taken the Lenten journey to Easter? For many of us, this season has come and gone so many times, we may arrive at Ash Wednesday a bit ho-hum about it all. Lent should be an invigorating challenge to prove we are serious about what we believe.

The Gospel today gives us the prescription for a healthful Lent: Pray privately, give alms quietly, fast cheerfully. But this is only a formula, not the goal of life.

The Gospel for Ash Wednesday gives us good advice on how we are to act during Lent. Jesus speaks of the three main disciplines of the season: giving alms, praying and fasting. All of these spiritual activities, Jesus teaches us, are to be done without any desire for recognition by others. The point is not that we should only pray alone and not in community, for example, but that we should not pray in order to be seen as holy.

The same is true of fasting and works of charity; they do not need to be hidden, but they are to be done out of love of God and neighbour – not in order to be seen by others. There is a certain irony that we use this Gospel, which tells us to wash our faces so that we do not appear to be doing penance on the day that we go around with dirt on our foreheads. This is just another way Jesus is telling us not to perform religious acts for public recognition. We don't wear the ashes to proclaim our holiness, but to acknowledge that we are a community of sinners in need of repentance and renewal.

Almsgiving widens our hearts, prayer enhances our capacity to hear God speaking to us personally, fasting demonstrates just how weak we are, how desperately driven by our desires. But why does Jesus focus on this particular trinity? Because he learned these precepts from his own Jewish tradition. They are not randomly chosen; they each have a specific purpose in defining our primary relationships - with God, with other people and with our own self.

If all I do is pray, my spirituality becomes unreal, unconnected with everyday life. If all I do is give alms, I can become discouraged with the poor always being with us, or even feel superior to them. If all I do is fast, I can get caught up in self-discipline and forget that by myself, I cannot improve myself even a little bit.

These three Lenten practices form a pyramid of right relationships. Prayer establishes my relationship with God in love; alms establishes my relationship with others in compassion; fasting establishes my relationship with my own self in humility. What we learn from years of practice, whether we succeed or fail, is that we do these three things not because they are difficult, but because they are the best teachers of humanity.

That is ever more true today than it was in the time these pillars were first taught. Today, we live in a culture positively strangled by self-absorption. Each of us has to hack our way through the jungle of greed and self-interest. For Christians, our machete is our Lenten observance. Starting today, with ashes that mark our mortality, we dedicate one season of the year to discovering the flesh-and-blood structure of our deepest humanity.

Turn Away From Sin and Follow the Gospel

The call to continuing conversion reflected in our readings today is also the message of the ashes. We move through Lent from ashes to the baptismal font. We dirty our faces on Ash Wednesday and are cleansed in the waters of the font. More profoundly, we embrace the need to die to sin and selfishness at the beginning of Lent so that we can come to fuller life in the Risen One at Easter.

When we receive ashes on our foreheads, we remember who we are. We remember that we are creatures of the earth We remember that we are mortal beings. We remember that we are baptized. We remember that we are people on a journey of conversion.. We remember that we are members of the body of Christ (and that smudge on our foreheads will proclaim that identity to others, too).

Renewing our sense of who we really are before God is the core of the Lenten experience. It is so easy to forget, and fall into habits of sin, ways of thinking and living that are contrary to God's will. From the very beginning of Lent, God's word calls us to conversion. That, simply put, is the reason for Ash Wednesday!

Parish Bulletin for Sunday, February 21, 2010

First Sunday in Lent

Deut. 26:4-10     Rom. 10:8-13     Luke 4:1-13

Beginning - Again

In her children's classic The Velveteen Rabbit, Margery Williams chronicled the story of a stuffed rabbit and the boy who received it as a Christmas gift (Avon Books, New York: 1922).

At first, the simple toy was snubbed by the other, more expensive and sophisticated mechanical toys that flaunted their complexity and regarded themselves as real. Longing to be real, the velveteen rabbit asked the other toys how this might be achieved. The car hinted that being expensive made it real; it was, in its own words, numero uno.

"I'm king of the jungle," bragged the mechanical mouse, implying that might and authority made it real. When the rabbit asked, "Does real mean having things that buzz inside you and a handle that sticks out?"

The Skin Horse replied, "Real isn't how you are made. It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but really loves you, then you become real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are real, you don't mind being hurt."

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are real, most of your hair has been loved off and your eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are real, you can't be ugly except to people who don't understand."

With the beginning of yet another Lenten season, the praying assembly, gathered around the sacred texts and nourished by the food of bread and word, is once again invited - collectively and individually - to get real.

Becoming real is a lifelong process. It means that we have attained authenticity, that our thoughts and words and actions are truthfully integrated. Our yes is yes; our no is no. What we confess with our mouth (Romans, second reading) is consistent with the manner in which we live our lives. We don't send mixed messages because there is no dichotomy between saying and doing, thinking and being, believing and confessing.

Saying what we mean and meaning what we say is key to becoming real. So is the willingness to accept that all who confess the same Lord become related to one another as brothers and sisters.

Those who persevere in the process of becoming real will have to work daily at cleansing their hearts and actions of prejudice and discrimination, as well as the apathy that allows such injustice to go unchecked.

Becoming real will require each of us to stand and listen as Moses (Deuteronomy, first reading) tells the story of who we are as a people. As we remember our ancestors in faith and their experiences, both good and bad, we are urged to be similarly truthful about our own lives. We speak our own story before God and our sisters and brothers in the faith, and we are challenged to acknowledge the good that we have done and the good we have failed to do.

We take our cue from the Lucan Jesus (Gospel): Becoming real will mean that we admit our weakness and vulnerability and offer these to God, who will grace us with the strength to face every temptation. Becoming real will also require us to be honest about our sharp edges, our excessive sensitivity and fragility and our desire to be carefully kept.

Recalling the wisdom of The Velveteen Rabbit's Skin Horse, believers should be prepared for the consequences of becoming real. We must be willing to let our hair be loved off through dedicated service, to accept that our joints may get loose; we may take on a shabby look when we attend more to the needs of others than to our own.

Even though it hurts to become fully who we are called by God to be, it is important for us to make a new beginning. The process of becoming real doesn't happen all at once. What better time to start than now?

That all our beloved dead, especially

TUESDAY, Feb. 23

Weekday 8:30 a.m. - † James O'Neill

WEDNESDAY, Feb. 24

Weekday 8:30 a.m. - † Adonis Calisua

THURSDAY, Feb. 25

Weekday 8:30 a.m. - † Samuel Johns

FRIDAY, Feb. 26

Weekday 8:30 a.m. - † Saverio Giusti

may know the refreshment, rest, and peace of God's heavenly kingdom . . . that all those who grieve may know God's comfort and consolation . . .We pray.

For the sick, especially for all those who have asked for our prayers . . . for healing for all those who are sick . . . for courage for those in pain . . . for those who feel forgotten . . . We pray.

Parish Bulletin for Sunday, February 28, 2010

Second Sunday in Lent

Gen. 15:5-12, 17-18    Phil. 3:17-4:1    Luke 9:28-36

Changes - Transformations - Are You Ready?

Transformation experiences – significant and subtle, profound and superficial, good and bad – are an inherent aspect of the human condition. Transformations are clearly observable in nature as one season yields to another; natural processes are sometimes beautiful, sometimes frightful.

When the trees that became barren in winter begin to remember their leaves in the spring, the changes are a delight to behold. When those same leaves are transformed from green into radiant yellows, reds and oranges in the fall, they evoke wonder in all who see them. However, when an entire landscape is levelled and a population decimated by a natural catastrophe, delight and wonder become distant memories.

When human beings participate in the process of transformation, the results can be similarly remarkable and equally ambivalent. For example, the transformation of a baby to a child to an adult can be amazing to witness, but when that same human being is ravaged by a grave and debilitating illness, one must look much deeper to find the person's true loveliness.

While the process of aging is an unavoidable transformation, there are other, optional transformations that many willingly experience. For example, a popular television series called The Biggest Loser follows the progress (or not) of several overweight competitors. Coaches and nutritionists aid the contestants, whose strength, courage and perseverance are challenged at every turn.

After several weeks of rigorous work, punctuated by regular weigh-ins, pep talks, many tears and some laughter, the losers of all that weight seem to have been reborn. Although their external appearance is dramatically different, and their lives will probably be altered forever by their experience in the program, it was an interior transformation of mind and will and heart that made their outward metamorphosis possible.

Comparable transformations occur when young men and women join the military. After boot camp, they return home to visit family members who are awed by the changes they see. But underneath the uniform and the new, more disciplined demeanor is the real reason for the differences: These young recruits have made a commitment, and in the process of keeping that commitment, a change that grows within them begins to be reflected in their outward appearance.

Deep sorrows and great joys also have the potential to transform people. Those who have lost a parent, a spouse or a good friend to death seem also to have lost something of themselves. The void they carry in their souls will also be etched on their faces. Grief counsellors have even associated such spiritual wounds with an increase of physical ailments.

By the same token, joy radiates from a couple newly in love; their intimate care for one another transforms their faces, quickens their hearts and lightens their steps. Expectant parents are said to glow. Even before its birth, their child's presence has already begun to transform them.

The sacred texts for today invite us to consider how and why the lives of Abraham, Jesus and Paul's converts in Philippi were similarly transformed. Abram's encounter and covenant with God proved to be a life-altering moment for him. No longer a wanderer, Abraham would become the father of a people whose faith, like his, continues to transform lives and change the world for the better. Changed by his experience of Jesus, Paul continues to remind believers that our commitment to Christ will one day result in our transfiguration unto glory.

Although the disciples in the Lucan Gospel described Jesus' glorious transfiguration in physical terms, it was his inner being that changed his outward appearance. His growing awareness of himself and his role as God's Word of love for the world was becoming evident in him. His deepening commitment to the mission he had been sent to accomplish made Jesus transparent. He glowed with passion and purpose that would enable him to continue his journey to Jerusalem, to the cross and to death.

Through his saving passage from death to life, Jesus has given each of us the grace that will change us and enable us to glow and to grow until he comes to take us home.

That all our beloved dead, especially

TUESDAY, March 2

Weekday 8:30 a.m. - † Robert and Dorothea Flynn

THURSDAY, March 4

Weekday 8:30 a.m. - † Mary Catherine James

FRIDAY, March 5

Weekday 8:30 a.m. - † Mary Waychison

may know the refreshment, rest, and peace of God's heavenly kingdom . . . that all those who grieve may know God's comfort and consolation . . .Lord, in your mercy.

For the sick, especially for all those who have asked for our prayers . . . for healing for all those who are sick . . . for courage for those in pain . . . for those who feel forgotten . . . Lord, in your mercy.

For peace and harmony in our world for all peoples . . . Lord, in your mercy.