Time to Propose

What’s so great about being Catholic, anyway?

Have you ever been asked that?  Have you ever asked yourself that?  Most days, it would be hard to try to come up with just one thing, there are so many.  

My first answer would be the Eucharist: the real presence, body, blood, soul, and divinity, of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the Word become flesh, who dwells among us.  It’s no metaphor; we know where He is, and we know what He’s for.

After that, the list gets crowded and a bit jumbled.  The Pope – and this Pope; Mozart and Michelangelo; Lent (yes, Lent!) and Easter.  Votive candles, the Rosary, backyard shrines to the Blessed Mother, and Mardi Gras.  And Catholics! Sure, that includes novelists and composers and astronauts and war heroes but it also includes YOU.  Yes, YOU are one of the Church’s star attractions.  Aren’t you?    

I could go on and on – but I don’t have to tell you that.  The real question is, how would you answer?  And now, to make it even more challenging, this is the real question: who is it in your life just now that wants to know?

There’s got to be someone who knows you and really wants to know, what’s so great about being Catholic?, but is afraid to ask.    So in addition to your needing to have an answer, you need to give that someone the answer without waiting for them to ask the question.

It is that time of year again when we start huddling in the rectory meeting room with folks who want to know just that – what IS it about being Catholic? And is “it” for me?  We call it RCIA, which stands for: the Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults.  And it does move toward the sacraments.  However, in the beginning, it really is simply inquiry, that is, all their questions.  And since people hesitate to ask these questions, they need YOUR help to find their answers.

This is an important inquiry to pursue, because everybody knows our story is not all great, at all times, and in all ways.  There’s a reason for that, too: human nature.  The Church is made up of people, and people are marked by original sin, and original sin by definition means that there are flaws.  For example, I am a flawed priest – but that doesn’t mean it would make sense to equate my flaws with the Sacred Priesthood.  

In fact, sin is why we need the Church.  Being sinners is what makes us eligible to be members!  We have Sin, and we have sinned, so we need forgiveness.  Forgiveness is what the Church exists to give, to make Christ’s saving sacrifice, his once-and-for-all death on Calvary, available to everyone who needs it.  And since “who needs it” is precisely everyone, that is who the Church is for.  That’s why she is called Catholic (universal); she is for everyone, because she has what everyone needs.

So think about your answer – what is so great about being Catholic? – and then share it with a few people in your life (friends, neighbors, co-workers, spouses) who may not know that it is a very legitimate question and that the answer is very much worth finding.  Explain to them how they can bring their questions to this year’s RCIA, which starts soon.  

Then point them in our direction: contact Norma or me here at the rectory, or Jasmine Kuzner in the Religious Ed office.   Tell them to use the phone, a letter, email, voicemail, text, tweet, or smoke signal.  We are eager to answer their questions, because that’s one of the things that’s great about being Catholic.

Monsignor Smith

 

Where to look

Some nights it's hard to find people to hang out with.

There I went, reading the paper again.  Will I never learn?  I do my best to avoid the worst of the pot-stirring and muck-raking, and what is presented as “human interest” stories these days is usually neither.  But from old habit, I like to know what is happening; and if I poke around sharply enough, I can often discern what I need to know.  So as I prowled gingerly midst the produce of the infotainment mongers, I saw the story.

The crux of the matter was how important it is for couples to have friends that are couples; and subsequently how difficult it has become to form such friendships in our fractured and frenzied society.  I confess to having skimmed it, but details of one couple’s efforts were presented, including using an app (of course) and offering free concert tickets (no takers).  They’ve “struck up conversations with other couples at sports bars, street fairs, and farmers markets.”  I my mind I could see their futile efforts, and wanted to weep.

What I really wanted to do was reach through the pages and shake them by the shoulders, and tell them, Go to church!  It sounds self-serving, but quite the contrary: the people with whom you share an openness and attentiveness to God are already more open and attentive to you.  So, presume generosity and proffer generosity, and amazing things will happen.      

It is possible, even easy, to go to church and meet and know nobody there.  However, there is no easier or better place to break out of the isolation.   Compatibility builds on commonality, and if you do something with somebody with whom you already share the Faith, you will find the path opening before you.  If you simply pay attention, over a few weeks it is not hard to pick out somebody who interests you or attracts you, somebody whom you admire.  And while striking up a conversation after Mass is not a zero-risk situation, it is unlikely to go too very badly.   

If you listen closely, people are always asking for someone to join them, to show up for things, to help with projects.  Sign up to help, join a reading group, come out when there’s a call.  You might not meet your new best friends there, but you might meet someone who knows who your newest friends will be.   

We do have a lot of young adults and families, new parishioners who arrive with no connections in the community and no reason to be here save their academic or professional pursuits.  From what I see as I meet them at the doors, they are delightful and fascinating; YOU are delightful and fascinating.  You should get together!  

The is no restriction according to age, either; young people aren’t the only ones who are open to new and life-giving relationships.  Church is one of the few places left in our society where all ages meet and mingle, almost as if they all had something to offer one another!  Catholic Mass (at least here) is one of the least stratified and least segmented gatherings that happens; people here differ in every possible way from one another, yet share the one thing that matters most: the way, and the truth, and the life.  

So, please, I beg you, do not let yourself be another statistic or demographic event, much less one of the sad wanderers on the planet trying every electronic aid to meet people.  Show up, sign up, and pipe up; take delight in one another, and you will find how much others delight in you.  It’s not called communion for nothing.

You won’t find that in the paper. 

Monsignor Smith

 

The best you share

Friends you haven't met yet

When you are with a buddy every day, you are less likely to notice any changes in them.   But a friend you see only once every few months, or every few years, that is a different story; the first thing to draw your attention is what is different from what you remember.  Those changes help us realize how much time has passed, and how we, ourselves, might have changed too over the same time.

But what about our friends that do not change?  No, not those people who seem to be unchanging, but rather our friends that are not people.  

The past week I have been spending time with my friends that are books.  I have been going through my shelves looking at them and deciding which ones to contribute to our upcoming Great Catholic Book Swap.  I did not want to have a book sale, or just to donate them to some book dealer in order to find their new home, but rather to have this event so that we can all share our friends with one another and thereby increase the life and reach of the friendship.   

There are many that I will hang on to, of course.   They are keepers, largely because I need them for reference or at least reminding.  Meanwhile, I have found a few books, maybe a boxful, that do not qualify for our Swap, but I plan to give to the local friends of the library shop.  They are good books too, but needn’t be shared within the household of the faith.

And there are some books that I have that I will not share, because they are not good books; they are not helpful, or maybe even not truthful, and would not build up the Body of Christ.  I may have to find some other path for them.

But the books I have assembled for the Book Swap are good books, truthful books.  Some are books I admire, but never really ‘hit it off’ with them.  Some are books that I really enjoyed, and even often used, but no longer fit in to my reading and learning.  Some are books that are just so good they deserve someone who has never had the experience and will treasure them.  And they all, every one of these books, fortify the faith and enhance the understanding.

As I moved through the books, separating them into stacks with different destinations, some I held back because of their sentimental attachment.  Some were given me as gifts and I still treasure the giver.  Many had inscriptions that marked the date and occasion, some long past.  But as I moved deeper into the process, I went back and moved even those books into the stack that I would share through the Swap.  

They are friends, after all.  What are friends for, but for sharing?   Just this last weekend I had two priests to dinner who had not met one another.  I was a good evening, and I am convinced that they will happily and fruitfully see one another in future, maybe even often.  That was a delight, for me and them.

Passing on a book, a good book that is a good friend, is a way to increase the friendship.  Passing on a good book that manifests and reveals the Faith is a way to increase the friendship that we share with Jesus.  As I send these books along, I am convinced that they will happily and fruitfully help people see Jesus and be with Jesus in the future, maybe even often.  

Consider joining in this sharing of friends and friendship that is our Catholic Book Swap.  Nothing rewards the passage of time like making new friends; and nothing satisfies the love of old friends like seeing them newly met, newly appreciated, and newly loved.

Monsignor Smith

 

Eyes on me!

Do not forget the clamor of your foes, the daily increasing uproar of your foes.  (Psalm 74)

The Psalmist cries out against the din of destruction that is raised all around him.  Can you blame him?  There is an awful lot of noise, people making noise, voices and speeches that coalesce into a clatter and roar that surrounds us in what they call, without irony, The Age of Communication.   

All the voices, all the stories, have messages of urgency, stories of menace.  There is some variety among them, depending on the inclination of the agencies, but they share a common desire to rile us up and leave us quivering.  

This morning I checked all the outlets for some news story on today’s weather, our weather.  Last week everybody was writing about it, talking about it – the first hundred-degree day in seven years!  This week nobody mentions that we have another day that is ten degrees cooler than average.  Why isn’t that news?  Is it too – oh, I don’t know -- delightful?

It is as if somebody, somewhere daily decides what you and I are supposed to be excited about, what we are supposed to be frightened about.  Everything else is not acknowledged, not discussed.  But they definitely want you and me to be excited, and to be frightened.

How different is our Lord.  He takes Peter, James, and John up a high mountain and is transfigured before them because he wants them not to be frightened.  Yes, the same Jesus who admonishes Be not afraid, actually provides a help in fulfilling His admonition.  Now the voice of God booming out of a bright cloud might not be YOUR idea of a calming influence, but that is precisely what Jesus intends to provide by giving his disciples.  This is my beloved son, the Father reminds (yes, reminds, for they knew that already).  Along with the dazzling, radiant glory of His only begotten Son revealed before their eyes, the experience is astonishing, but also provides what they need to calm down and persevere – that is, keep doing what they are doing.  

It is an amusing trope that being instructed to calm down! has never, ever calmed anybody.  Are you shocked to learn that Jesus knows this, and uses a different method?   He reveals His identity and His glory to fortify the disciples to withstand the fear that would come when they witness His passion and death.   He gives them what they need NOT to be afraid.  

This year, the Feast of the Transfiguration falls on a Sunday and displaces the Sunday Mass, so we have a second opportunity in one year to bask in the Divine assurance.  The first opportunity, occurring every year, is on the Second Sunday of Lent.  Jesus is giving us what we need NOT to be afraid, which is, reassurance of His identity and His glory.  If everything else seems to be falling apart (which it truly is) and every good effort seems to fall flat or be foiled (and they are) and even those whom the Lord Himself has called and charged with His Good News are showing more selfishness and foolishness than faith (yawn -- again?); if things are really this bad, shouldn’t we be afraid?

No.  Not then, not now.  He’s got this; he’s God.   His victory is already won, His glory is everlasting.  

But THE NOISE.  Is it getting to you?  Is it weakening your resolve, or simply distracting you from what you know you are about?  Do you feel the fear?

Yes, it looks bad – but then, it always has.   Tear your eyes away from the catastrophe du jour and daily direct them instead at the face of Jesus.   He will show you what you need to see.  Go up the mountain.  Do not pass go, do not collect $200, just go:  straight up the mountain to God in prayer.   Be with Him; listen to Him; look at Him.   He is God; He loves you; and He’s got this. 

Then, let the Psalmist go on with his complaint.  But you, and I, can and should forget the clamor of (our) foes, the daily increasing uproar of (our) foes.  

Monsignor Smith

 

Danger close

Another volcanic eruption in Iceland is hardly earth-shattering news, pun intended; but there have been stray reports and, as is now common, abundant video footage of the belching and blooming fire and smoke gushing from a fissure in what we usually consider to be solid ground. 

Now, fire hot enough to melt rock is something most people would recognize as dangerous and destructive, and direct human contact with it would afford no second chances or first aid, only incineration and annihilation.  But there they are, in every video and photo, right up at the very edge of the flow of the glowing molten earth: spectators.  People watching, photographing, recording, admiring, and somehow enjoying being close enough to feel the heat coming from this inexorable and insensate destroyer.   

Awesome and astonishing as this eruption surely is, the unpredictable, unmanageable mortal danger somehow does not deter but rather enhances the attraction for the fragile thrill-seekers.

This week, the Sixteenth in Ordinary Time, the daily Mass readings have been from the Book of Exodus, and Wednesday we heard about God’s gift of manna to the hungry, grumbling people of Israel (ch. 16), and then Thursday about His manifesting Himself to them in fire, smoke, and earthquake on Mount Sinai (ch. 19).  These are but two episodes, albeit especially dramatic and memorable ones, of the Living God teaching the Israelites, and through them all the world, Who and how He is. 

For the merry and valiant band of daily Mass-goers (that day I had the 6:30 AM), I wondered at the juxtaposition of those two lessons, the manna and the menace, as we came to the Holy Mountain to be fed, in our hunger and our grumbling, and to be taught, in our ignorance and speculation, Who and how the Living God is.  Both deeds He repeats day in, day out, at our summons in fact, in the act of Eucharist.  He comes in His flesh that He offers as food, manifested in the sacrifice of His Son, the Love Who is God.  We leave refreshed and restored, rather than rattled and reproved.

What if, I wondered, what if in a moment of petulance, what if as a refresher of memory, what if the Living God were to resort to some of the same theatrics He used all those years ago to draw the attention and devotion of the ancient Israelites?  What if the belching fire and billowing smoke, the trembling of the earth itself and the terrifying trumpet were to sound to announce His presence and activity in the saving sacrifice of the Mass?  The sacrifice that day on Calvary, you will recall, was not without its “Sensurround” aspects.

Picture a weekday rush hour, quiet for the summer, disrupted on University Boulevard just east of Colesville Road.  Picture in the eye of your mind cars stopping, some fleeing, some colliding.  Imagine the response of first responders, as police, fire and rescue are dispatched; how long before a helicopter or three begins to circle overhead?  Will the tactical response team arrive, and mobile command posts roll?  Will they evacuate the President, Congress and the government?  

And then, after all this, how many will come, how many will draw near because of the menace, because of the danger?  How many will be drawn to what causes others to flee?  How many people will there be, watching, photographing, recording, admiring, and somehow enjoying being close enough to feel the heat?  And, the real question is, would they get the point? Would they make the connection?  Would they recognize the Living God then?

In a word: nah.  It wasn’t enough then, and it won’t be enough now.  In the New Dispensation, the earth-shattering power of God is hidden in earthly things, but can be seen by those who have eyes to see, because they have ears to hear.  But blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your ears, for they hear. Truly, I say to you, many prophets and righteous men longed to see what you see, and did not see it, and to hear what you hear, and did not hear it. (Mt 13:16-17)

And for those who are drawn to danger, who look for drama and destruction, that too is not wanting.  For as the Preface of the Holy Eucharist reminds us, Christ conveyed to His Apostles, that is, to His Church and to us, the sacrifice of the Mass establishing for the ages to come, the saving memorial of the Cross.  And there, in the Cross of Jesus that He begs us to take up, there is danger and destruction aplenty.  Who will come?

For you have not come to what may be touched, a blazing fire, and darkness, and gloom, and a tempest, and the sound of a trumpet, and a voice whose words made the hearers entreat that no further messages be spoken to them. …  Indeed, so terrifying was the sight that Moses said, "I tremble with fear."  But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and to the assembly of the first-born who are enrolled in heaven, and to a judge who is God of all, and to the spirits of just men made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks more graciously than the blood of Abel.  See that you do not refuse him who is speaking.  For if they did not escape when they refused him who warned them on earth, much less shall we escape if we reject him who warns from heaven. (Hebrews 12:18-19, 21-25)

For here, on the Holy Altar, is laid out for you the sacrifice that darkened the skies and tore the temple curtain in two.   But it seems that for most folks, and even most of us, that is hardly earth-shattering news.

Monsignor Smith

 

 

The multi-tool player

Listening on the radio to the Nats game the other evening, I heard two unfamiliar names announced to start a late inning.  One was the Nats pitcher, who must have been new to the team that week, and therefore unknown to me; and the other was the batter for the other team, and his name was Wisdom.

Wow, what a great name; and on a world-class athlete, as an MLB player would necessarily be, it indicates a completeness not to be expected nor often encountered: skill, strength, speed, and Wisdom – all in one!   Having a name such as mine, with only one real benefit – it is often spelled correctly on the first try, even over the phone – I frequently admit to what I call “name envy”.  But that night I had a flash of name awe.

There is a genre of ancient text, and a category of Sacred Scripture, called “Wisdom Literature,” and the books are among my favorites.  Ecclesiastes (Qoheleth, or The Preacher – you know, “To every thing there is a season” &c), Sirach (confusingly also called Ecclesiasticus), Proverbs.  The Psalms and Job also are counted, yet different in many ways; but the obvious one is actually called the Book of Wisdom, from which we hear this Sunday.

The common theme is the wisdom that points to God, and is from God, and of God.  But one of the more amusing themes in the Book of Wisdom is that the author points out that anybody who pays attention and, as we might express it these days, “has half a brain,” can identify the existence of the Living God.  My favorite example is in the chapter right after the passage we hear Sunday:

For all men who were ignorant of God were foolish by nature; and they were unable from the good things that are seen to know him who exists, nor did they recognize the craftsman while paying heed to his works; but they supposed that either fire or wind or swift air, or the circle of the stars, or turbulent water, or the luminaries of heaven were the gods that rule the world. If through delight in the beauty of these things men assumed them to be gods, let them know how much better than these is their Lord, for the author of beauty created them. And if men were amazed at their power and working, let them perceive from them how much more powerful is he who formed them. For from the greatness and beauty of created things comes a corresponding perception of their Creator. Yet these men are little to be blamed, for perhaps they go astray while seeking God and desiring to find him. For as they live among his works they keep searching, and they trust in what they see, because the things that are seen are beautiful. Yet again, not even they are to be excused; for if they had the power to know so much that they could investigate the world, how did they fail to find sooner the Lord of these things? (Wisdom 13:1-9)

When I was in Rome recently, we had a tour of the excavations under Saint Peter’s Basilica to the site of Saint Peter’s tomb.  Before the Basilica, and before Peter, the place was a necropolis – an above-ground cemetery filled with mausoleums like rows of condos for the dead.  The decorations on the sarcophagi and tombs invoked or depicted assorted pagan deities, which the guide identified and explained.  Then, at a certain point he asked our group, which god have we not talked about yet?  My answer was, The real one.  That prompted a chuckle – but it was a chuckle of recognition.

People will ask me, What’s the Bible’s position on this? or What’s the Church’s position on that?  The Bible does not have a position, nor does the Church take positions.  These are the instruments of God’s own self-revelation and relentless work to rescue us from ignorance of and distance from Him.  There are millions of questions, but only one complete answer: Jesus Christ.

In our day of careful manners that avoid talk of religion if no longer politics, it is easy to forget that, just because we do not fall into argument with our neighbors, there is no range of opinions that are to be regarded as equally true or valuable; there is no assortment of possible realities to be accommodated in our speech and action.  The Living God has made Himself known, and He is unique and universal, that is, the only God, and the God of everyone and everything.  What the author of Wisdom points out is that it only makes sense.

And that night I was listening to the radio, as is so often the case, Wisdom crushed one out of the park.  

Monsignor Smith

 

 

Apocalypse soon?

Boy is it hot.  I love me some summertime, but wow, am I out of the habit of heat.  I forget, from year to year, the reality of the summer heat, especially after a long, mild spring like we just had.  It was extra long, since winter sort of failed and spring started by default back in early Lent.  Now, dramatic summer thunderstorms, and beastly heat are our lot; we should not be surprised.  

The summers flanking my senior year in high school, I worked at a golf club, a real fancy one that has (since) hosted major tournaments.  I did not maintain the course itself, but I took care of pretty much everything else, including the clay tennis courts and azalea beds, the lawns along the drive to the clubhouse, and for the residents of the homes in the club, I helped collect the garbage and drove the truck to the dump.  THAT was HOT.  All of it.  But the absolute worst was having to go back out to resume whatever task I had been working on after one of the summer thunderstorms came busting through.  The humidity was so high and so heavy as to make breathing difficult.  

Ah the good old days.

These very days of this very summer will soon be counted among the good old days.   Change is afoot in the Holy House of Soubirous, change that will echo through the parish before the heat breaks.  As I type this, the Canonical Twins are on the porch immersed in one of their study sessions while their date with comprehensive examinations comes steadily closer.   

Father Santandreu will be leaving us once he has met all the requirements for his degree.  He has been good company, he has had a good run, but his bishop wants him back and has a stack of work for him in Buffalo.  At the end of July, one day he will simply evaporate into the haze on the horizon.

Father Novajosky, on the other hand, comes from a diocese with a slightly deeper bench, and so he will be staying on to begin his next degree, the doctorate.  He, too, will disappear when this month ends, but he will return with all the other students before Labor Day, and we will rejoice in his company again.

And Father Gabriel Okafor, who has been here only a few weeks, will go back to his parish in California come August, as well.

Change is hard; but wait – there is more!  It is not limited to the residents of the house.  Jackie Nguyen, who has been working here for almost twenty years, has found a donor and will receive a kidney transplant in less than two weeks.  And Ron Farias, our business manage for six years, will retire at the end of this month. 

Jackie will be out for a couple of months, best case scenario, and after that we will see how much we see of her.  Ron will be helping with the transition here and there after the first of August, and will continue as a parishioner, but things will simply not be the same.  I am turning everything over to the Divine Providence as both of these people were my prop and stay over and over again.  

Let me turn all this over to your prayer, as well, and do not neglect to let these people who have played a role in your life know of your care for them.  I know you know what to do.  Everything is changing, but then it always does.   We will learn what God has in store; His mercies are not spent.

After all this, I will be alone in the rectory for several weeks.  My consolation is that it will be The Most Wonderful Month of the Year: August.  I love August, heat and all, because the swelter and stillness and the peaches and the tomatoes; the ability get a parking place anywhere in the metropolitan area, any time, and to drive, even on the beltway, without horrible traffic.   I love the mood everybody is in by August, when they have become accustomed to the calmer pace of summertime, and the effects of their vacations linger like a bright clearheaded buzz.  Yes, August is hot, but it won’t be hot forever.

Some folks point at the heat and the storms and say the world is ending.  Well, that’s a quaint thought but there is no good reason to put any stock in it.  The world will not end until souls cease being saved by Christ, until the workers in the vineyard of the Church cease to gather in the Master’s harvest.  THAT is an apocalypse to be dreaded, a sign to be seen and lamented, a disaster to be averted. 

Meanwhile, I’ll take the heat.

Monsignor Smith