Father Robert T. Cooper

August 16, 2020

           Last Fall, Attorney General William Barr gave an impassioned speech to the students and faculty of Notre Dame Law School as well as to Notre Dames’ Nicola Center for Ethics and Culture on the state of religious freedom in the United States. His remarks were received with alarm by commentators like the New York Times’ Paul Krugman, who called Barr’s words “the language of witch hunts and pogroms,” by the Washington Post’s Catherine Rampell, who described them as “a tacit endorsement of theocracy,” and by Huffington Post’s Mary Papenfuss, who said they reveal “how deeply the top lawman in the nation is tied to his Catholicism,” which for her was obviously a problem.

           As such reactions show, Barr’s unabashed candor upset many of the proponents of the militant-secularist project he decries: those who preach the virtue of tolerance while being intolerant of those who disagree with what they want tolerated, who proclaim new rights and fundamental freedoms while trampling the long-established ones of those whom they think are in their way. Militant secularists often wrap their advocacy and action in the American flag and frame what is happening as a flourishing of the principles of the country’s founding fathers, while generally and snobbishly trying to disregard as un-American paranoia the concerns raised by religious leaders and people. When the Attorney General, however, exposed what is afoot as bluntly as he did, they knew they could not ignore it. Rather than engaging the arguments, they resorted to high-class, old-fashioned, hyperbolic name-calling and fearmongering.

            Even though many of Barr’s ideas are not new to those who have been concerned with the rapid erosion of religious freedom in the United States, they need to be taken as seriously by defenders of religious liberty as they have been by religious freedom opponents. They are a wake-up call for citizens not to take their duties in response to religious liberty and freedom of conscience for granted—and to begin to act.

            Barr makes three major points in his address. The first concerns the centrality of religious liberty in the history of the United States. He underlines that the founding fathers, especially Madison and Adams, were convinced that the only way the American experiment in ordered liberty would succeed would if the people governed were moral and religious if they interiorly obeyed a higher law that restrained them from doing evil and moved them to work for the common good. Self-government is not just and principally “government of the people, by the people and for the people,” he said, but begins with self-mastery and the capacity to govern oneself. Religion helps teach and form people to want and choose what is good and to refrain from abusing their freedom for selfish ends against the good of others.

              Without such moral formation toward authentic freedom, toward interior and cultural restraint instead of the enforced restraint of government, the founding fathers did not believe the United States could succeed: the unbridled pursuit of personal appetites at the expense of the common good would begin to tear asunder the social fabric and leave government coercion as the only means to achieve order. America has succeeded until now because, for the most part, the vast majority of people were indeed moral and religious and regularly chose to do the right thing even if they might have been able to get away with doing the wrong.

               Those achievements, however, are in danger, as Barr emphasizes in his second point, which is what critics of his speech found most offensive. Over the past half-century, religion in general, and religious freedom in particular, have been under increasing attack, he says, as militant secularists have mounted a comprehensive effort to drive religion and the Judeo-Christian moral system from the public square. The “unremitting assault” of “organized destruction,” he argues, has taken place through popular culture, entertainment, the academy, courts, and legislatures, where secularists have sought to supplant traditional values with a quasi-religion of moral relativism pushing as moral goods abortion, sexual promiscuity, euthanasia, and gender ideology, among other things. The consequences of this moral upheaval, he stresses, have demonstrably led to skyrocketing rates of illegitimacy, broken families, depression and mental illnesses, suicide rates, and drug abuse. Rather than acknowledge and confront the “social costs of licentiousness and irresponsible personal conduct,” militant secularists, he says, enable them by having the State pick up the social tab, paying for abortions rather than calling people to sexual responsibility, providing safe injection sites rather than attacking addiction and assisting addicts, and assuming through scores of new social programs the parental and spousal responsibilities of those who forsake them.

              It is obvious that not all those who call themselves secularists are part of a loose conspiracy of organized destruction. At the same time, however, it is difficult to deny that those organizations who, for example, have sought to remove any reference to God from public assemblies and places, who have pushed not only for universal access to abortion but to have those opposed to it pay for it, have justly earned the Attorney General’s description. Their ire at the term “destruction” seems to come not from its use describing their attempted annihilation of the Judeo-Christian values that they believe stand in their way, but from Barr’s blaming their moral revolution for the disastrous consequences he documents. “Among these militant secularists are many so-called ‘progressives,’” Barr quips laconically. “But where is the progress?”

              Barr’s third major point builds on the point of organized destruction, by illustrating with authority how law—especially judicial activism—is strategically being used as a “battering ram” to bring about moral revolution. The goal, Barr contends, is not just replacing traditional values with new ones, but forcing people of faith and religious institutions to subscribe to practices and policies antithetical to their beliefs and consciences, like paying for abortions, being browbeaten to bake cakes for same-sex weddings, or being compelled to have their children taught in public schools about sexual practices contrary to their faith. Such attacks, Barr says, remind him of Roman emperors who refused to leave Christians alone to practice their faith but forced them to offer religious sacrifices to pagan deities or the emperor. He makes plain that such attacks are not only a “monstrous invasion of religious liberty,” but also wholly un-American, something that would fill not just the founding fathers but most Americans throughout the last 243 years with outrage.

               What is to be done to remedy this trend? Barr mentions briefly on three things. First is individual moral renewal: we can only transform culture and society if we ourselves are transformed. Second is to focus far more vigorously on the moral education of children: there can be no moral rebirth unless we do a better job in passing along faith and values to the newer generations—and not just particular religious values, but the general values that the founding fathers recognized make a free society possible to endure. Third, lawyers must take greater leadership and responsibility for the way the courts are being used to bulldoze believers and their values. They must vigorously resist the secular desire to expel religious viewpoints from the public square and to limit the free exercise of faith.

              Like a pre-exilic prophet, the Attorney General focuses far more on the analysis of the problem than on giving detailed steps toward a solution. For those engaging in the types of socially calamitous behavior he describes, their reaction to his speech burnishes his prophetic credentials. For Christian citizens, however, he describes a situation for which Jesus has prepared us. Jesus repeatedly emphasized that our religious freedom would be challenged, that we would be brought before governors and courts, mocked, persecuted, and hated on account of His name. Such suffering, He said, would not only lead to our beatitude but to an opportunity to give more compelling witness. That is why He told us not to fear but to rejoice and be glad for our heavenly reward would be great!

August 9, 2020

           The lives of Black people do matter. They matter profoundly because God has created every human being in His beautiful image and likeness. Every person is of infinite value, so precious indeed, that Christ spent His life and offered His death for the eternal salvation of each individual member of the human race. This astonishing truth shines in stark and disturbing contrast with the evil history of slavery. For centuries, slave owners, slave traders, and indeed, the whole political and economic system of our nation dehumanized, exploited, abused, and killed people of color for an erroneous perception of a collective benefit. Each person has an inherent human dignity and can never be merely a means to an end. Our bloody Civil War, the share-cropping system, the rise of the Ku Klux Klan, Jim Crow laws, public lynchings, segregation, the prejudice and violence against the Civil Rights movement led by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., the instances of racist police brutality, and the recent death of George Floyd, all point to a long history of struggle, violence, and suffering to overcome racism in our country and establish inherent human dignity.

          In this moment of challenge and decision regarding race, a cacophony of voices and opinions have exploded. What are the lasting and transformative solutions? How do we get to the core of the matter? Laws may change for the better, police methods need to improve, institutional leaders need to examine how they lead and serve, but ultimately, hearts must be converted if we ever hope to eradicate racism from our midst in a lasting and peaceful way.

          Because of our sinful and fallen human nature, a flawed, innate tendency in the human psyche often feels the need to define as “other,” some person or group that is different from us, someone whose humanity or even very existence needs to be diminished, mocked, excluded, or even eliminated. Think of Nazism and the Jewish people, the generic “enemy” during any wartime, the native peoples of the Americas, the native peoples of Africa, the unborn child, or even the child in school who gets bullied and picked on for being different in some way. In sad, evil, and terrible ways, African Americans have suffered from this dynamic for centuries; such racism and exclusion, no matter the identity of the victim, is radically anti-Christian and stands in diametric opposition to the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

          A particular way to view the crucifixion and death of Jesus Christ is His identification with the “other” and the “outcast.” In His trial and condemnation, Jesus becomes the criminal, the rejected one, the scapegoat, upon whom is cast the hatred, sin, and evil of humanity. By absorbing this violence, embracing this exclusion, offering pardon to His killers, taking upon Himself the entirety of prejudice, persecution, injustice, and sin, the Lord heals all of it in one mighty offering of self to the Father. By becoming the scapegoat Himself, Jesus provides the path to end all scapegoating. The arms of the cross symbolize the mighty embrace of God towards all of His children. By that embrace, no one is the “other”; no one is excluded or cast out. All are invited to embrace a new identity as children of God. The Church, formed from the Passion, death, and resurrection of Christ, is born as the reconciled communion of love, unity, and peace to which all people are invited. Indeed, “Catholic” means “universal.” Our very name implies a new humanity in which prejudice, violence, hatred, and racism have no place.

          The sad history of racism in members of our society and our Church points to the challenging truth that the fullness of the Gospel still has not permeated through our institutions via our individual hearts. To the extent that violence, disrespect, prejudice, and exclusion of any kind still afflict us, to that degree we still require conversion. This current moment of protest will only bear lasting fruit if it is radically grounded in a vision of human dignity and nurtured by a spirit of reconciliation. To forgive and to seek forgiveness, in a spirit of love and prayer, will begin to heal our society and communities of the fear, prejudice, and hatred that still divide us, conflict us, and violate us. Imprisoned in Auschwitz, St. Maximilian Kolbe urged his fellow prisoners to love and forgive the Nazis. “If we do not, we are no better than they.”

             Forgiveness alone, however, is not enough. How do we build a culture of life, unity, love, justice, and peace? We need a public and flourishing morality to do so. Tolerance is not sufficient. I do not want simply to put up with people; I want to love them. I do not want to coexist with others. I want to be in communion with them. Such a vision demands a spiritual perspective. In his courageous leadership, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., quoted the Scriptures and appealed to a Gospel of non-violence. The Freedom Riders sang religious spirituals as they marched. Read Dr. King’s “Letter from the Birmingham Jail.” We need this witness today. The principles of Catholic Social Teaching, with their emphasis on human dignity, rights and responsibilities, solidarity, the primacy of family and social bonds, the importance of work, a preferential option for the poor, and an integral ecology, are solid and transformative pillars upon which we can build a civilization of life and love. As St. John Paul II reminds us, the human person can only fully flourish in a society with a healthy public morality, a functional democracy, and an economy ordered to the good of everyone.

            Most of our national Founders were deists; while not necessarily practicing Christians, they acknowledged the existence of God as a benevolent Providence from whom flowed the dignity of the human person and the inalienable rights of “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” This shared conviction that God created the universe and invites humanity to order its affairs in a revealed morality is sorely lacking today. Tolerance and goodwill are thin fare to hold together a society which so absolutizes individual autonomy at the expense of the common good, and in many ways, has pushed religious values out of the public square. We sorely lack a common moral language even to discuss ethical issues.

            In my ministry as a priest, I have been privileged to stand in many sacred places with suffering brothers and sisters whose very existence was marginal and fragile. These folks experienced poverty, violence, prejudice, and even death. In one way or another, they all experienced the sense of being outcast, devalued, ignored, and disregarded. Yet, in the midst of such marginalization, I experienced faith, forgiveness, healing, and hope in very desperate situations. The truth of the Gospel demands us to go out in search of the lost, the marginalized, and the dehumanized and to proclaim the Good News of God’s love and the inherent dignity of every person. The mercy and reconciliation of Christ is the only power that can heal an unjust world and a wounded heart.

            Violence and lawlessness will not bring about the communion we need and seek. We must condemn the violence against protestors and police in these past weeks which has even led to several deaths. The looting, burning, vandalism, and disregard of the law are not representative of the vast majority of the protestors, but nevertheless, should be a troubling concern for all. The attacks against human life and property are a violation of God’s will for us as well.

              What does this moment of protest and challenge ask of us as Christians? Certainly, to pray for peace, justice, and reconciliation, for an end to violence and its causes; to fast and do penance for healing and forgiveness in the world; to study the Scriptures and the teachings of the Church where we will discover God’s desire for us as a nation and a people; to take actions of mercy, forgiveness, service, and healing as best we can; to volunteer for service to marginalized and suffering people; to pray for our government leaders, health care workers, the police, the victims of injustice and violence, and all those who are suffering in any way right now; to examine our own hearts and ask the Lord to eradicate any prejudice, hatred, fear, or lack of forgiveness; to proclaim fearlessly Jesus Christ as the source and model of mercy and justice.

              At each celebration of the Eucharist, we have an opportune moment to ponder our communion in Jesus Christ, to remember that the Eucharist forms and feeds us as the Church, so that we may carry forth the love, mercy, peace, and forgiveness we experience in Mass to the world. We are sent forth to sanctify society so that our families, cities, nation, and indeed all of creation increasingly is conformed to the fullness of the Kingdom of God. This Paschal Banquet participates in and foreshadows the celestial Marriage Feast of the Lamb in the Kingdom of God, where all sin, hatred, division, and death will vanish forever. This love is the ultimate solution to our torment and division. This love never fails!

August 2, 2020

           In recent weeks, we have witnessed the vandalizing and toppling of statues around the country which depict Confederate leaders, Christopher Columbus, Saint Junipero Serra, Francis Scott Key, and anyone else deemed to be offensive to the vandals. Even a monument recognizing the service of the first all-volunteer Black regiment of the Union Army during the Civil War was defaced in Boston. Often, law enforcement officers have done nothing to stop this destruction. The magazine, Popular Mechanics, features a current article detailing how to destroy “a statue that you decide you no longer like,” utilizing science to do so. This dynamic reached another stage on June 22^nd when Shaun King, a Black activist, publicly encouraged the destruction of “white” statues and other artistic depictions of Jesus Christ, labeling them as forms of “white supremacy.”

          As an avid reader of United States history, I know some of the torturous narratives of violence and oppression against both the Native peoples of this land and the African peoples brought here as slaves. In my opinion, the injustices suffered by these peoples over the course of centuries are two of the greatest moral failures of our country, with deep repercussions in our culture. We must study and know this history in order to transcend it, to learn from it, and to commit ourselves to justice, equality, and solidarity because of it. At the same time, even the worst aspects of history should be remembered and kept before our eyes. Auschwitz remains open as both a memorial and a museum so that humanity never forgets the horror of the Holocaust.

          How illuminating and healing it would be if we had a national education effort to understand our history in its totality, have a respectful discussion about the proper way to commemorate people and events, such as Christopher Columbus, the European colonization of the Americas, the tragic suffering of slavery, the Civil War, Confederate leaders, the Founding Fathers, and the evangelization of our continent and then make measured decisions about statues, buildings, and memorials.

           If we allow the commemorative and visual history of our nation to be destroyed by random groups in the current moment of anger, how will we ever learn from that history? Does toppling and vandalizing a statue of George Washington because he owned slaves, really serve our country and our collective memory? Would it not be better to let the whole history of our country be on full display in all of its complexity so that we can value the patrimony of our heritage and simultaneously critique the injustices and sins of the past? A statue of Christopher Columbus was erected in the North End of Boston by proud Italian-Americans in the 1920s as a sign of their ethnic heritage. Two weeks ago, the statue was beheaded by vandals. A slap in the face to those who paid for it and placed it there for a noble purpose. Should certain statues be placed in museums or storage? Perhaps. Should we let a group of vandals make those decisions for us? No.

          Concerning the destruction of “white” artistic depictions of Jesus, which Shaun King has called for, the principle of enculturation merits our reflection here. In the Catholic Church, every culture, country, ethnicity, and race has claimed Jesus and the Blessed Virgin Mary as their own. Our Lady of Guadalupe appeared to Saint Juan Diego as a mestiza, African art depicts Jesus as Black, Asian depictions of the Blessed Mother, too, take on similarities of both bodily appearance and, often, cultural garb. In this context, are white representations of Christ and His Mother inherently signs of white supremacy? I think not. Because the Son of God became incarnate in our human flesh, does not all of humanity – every race, tribe, and tongue – have the spiritual ability to depict Him through the particular lens of their own culture?

           In Her missionary outreach, some in the Church at times have mistakenly equated the fullness of Catholicism with European culture. We have learned over time, as have others, to approach a different culture with respect and humility, recognizing the inherently authentic human elements already present in each person and place. We attempt to maintain unity in that which is essential, and diversity in those things which are not. A robust proclamation of the Gospel will purify every culture of its negative and destructive elements, but will leave intact its beauty, goodness, and truth. Belief in Jesus as Our Lord and Savior only makes us more fully human and more deeply rooted in the worth of our respective culture and country.

            In the face of Mr. King’s comments, as a priest and pastor, I cannot remain silent. I need to denounce such a call to violence and destruction. Our statues, pictures, stained-glass windows, churches, icons, and devotions are holy to us. They are sacramentals, blessed and sacred, visible expressions of the love of God, poured out in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus and made manifest in the Saints. They remind us of God, His love for us in Christ, and the nearness of the divine. The secular iconoclasm of the current moment will not bring reconciliation, peace, and healing. Such violence will only perpetuate the prejudice and hatred it ostensibly seeks to end. Religious freedom, given to man by God Himself, and guaranteed by our Constitution, allows us as Catholics to practice our faith, build our churches, pray in public, put up statues and crucifixes on our property, and serve the common good through a remarkable network of health care, schools, and social services. We must not surrender our religious liberty to the voices that seek the destruction of our public presence, the diminishing of our sacramental worship, and the denial of our belief in Jesus Christ as the savior of the world. Only the love of Christ can heal a wounded heart, not a vandalized piece of metal.

July 26, 2020

            A few years ago, I had the joy to travel to Detroit for solemn Vespers at the historic National Shrine of the Little Flower Basilica on the feast day of the Little Flower. In the canticle for Vespers, taken from the Book of Revelation, we prayed how “all nations shall come and worship in [God’s] presence, which gave us an occasion to focus on Jesus’ call for us to “go and teach all nations” (Mark 16:15, Mt 28:18-20) sharing with them the treasure of Christian faith and life. As we encounter a world that desperately needs to hear the proclamation of the Good News, the thoughts of St. Therese, the cloistered nun who became co-patroness of the Missions, can give some important direction for the Church today.

          The need for a more effective sharing of our faith cannot be denied. In the U.S., 30 million people define themselves as ex-Catholics, one out of every 11, constituting the second-largest religious group behind those identifying as Catholics. There is the almost viral rise of the “nones;” those who do not identify with any religion. There is the shuttering of Churches, schools, convents, and seminaries. There are many U.S. dioceses in which priests ride circuits of several hundred miles every Sunday to try to bring Christ to people. One of the most troubling worries of many middle-aged parents and grandparents concerns family members who have stopped going to Mass and cease living according to Christian faith and morals. Most Catholics in Europe, however, would love to have our problems, because theirs are infinitely worse. There is a widespread collapse of faith in many countries in which Christian life once flourished. An impressive institutional structure remains, featuring much patrimony and munificent Cathedrals, but many are more like museums, drawing far more tourists than communicants.

          We have the situation on the Amazon. The Amazon is an enormous tropical forest four times the size of Alaska, embracing 2.8 million indigenous people, 390 indigenous tribes, 240 spoken languages, and 137 uncontacted peoples. And many of them are visited only once or twice a year by priests. Just 12 years ago, all the Bishops of Latin America met in Aparecida, Brazil and produced an extraordinary document calling for a continent-wide Mission, but it seems that many have lost that zeal for and confidence in its summons. And we cannot forget that we have many countries that have yet to receive the Gospel and where the Gospel is forbidden.

           The Great Commission did not have an expiration date. There is a need to learn the missionary dimension of our faith anew. That is one of the reasons why Saint Therese was declared a doctor of the Church. I would like to focus on three elements of the missionary spirituality she teaches us.

          First, mission begins with love: love for God and love for others. The essence of her spirituality was “to love Jesus and make Him loved.” The most important organ for a missionary is not the legs but the heart. St. Therese’s heart was formed very young, reading the “Annals of the Propagation of the Faith” with her family. As a little girl, she replied, “I have a passionate desire to be a missionary!” Later she wrote how she wanted to “spread the Gospel in all parts of the earth, even to the farthest isles, … [and] not for a few years only {but] … from the world’s creation … till the end of time … so that … we may inflame all poor sinners with love of you.”

          Do we love people enough to want to share Christ with them? The Little Flower was once asked by one of her adopted Missionary priest brothers what was the reason why, more than 1800 years after Christ had come, there were still so many people who had never heard Jesus’ saving name. Her response was because of the laziness and lack of generosity of other Christians. Some do not lose sleep over multitudes’ not living and dying without knowing Christ, being baptized, hearing the Word of God, receiving the Eucharist, having their sins forgiven in Confession, being properly prepared for death. Some live almost as if they believe that it is no big deal, that there are no stakes for life in this world or the next, whether people come to believe, know, and follow Christ as the way, truth and life and learn how to love Him in their neighbor.

          As Pope Francis movingly wrote in The Joy of the Gospel, “What kind of love would not feel the need to speak of the beloved, to point him out, to make him known?” We know, he continued, from personal experience, just as St. Therese did, that “it is not the same thing to have known Jesus as not to have known him, not the same thing to walk with him as to walk blindly, not the same thing to hear his word as not to know it, and not the same thing to contemplate him, to worship him, to find our peace in him, as not to. …We know well that with Jesus life becomes richer and that with him it is easier to find meaning in everything. This is why we evangelize.”

            Second, the Little Flower teaches us that the mission involves constant prayer. Jesus knew that there would always be a “vocations crisis,” but He gave us the remedy: to pray to the Harvest Master to send laborers for His harvest (Mt 9:37). St. Therese became a Carmelite precisely to support the missions through her prayer. In 2000, the future Pope Benedict XVI commented about how Jesus used to call His disciples only after praying during the night. “Jesus had to acquire the disciples from God,” he said. “The same is always true. We ourselves cannot gather men. We must acquire them by God for God. All methods are empty without the foundation of prayer.” To be a missionary is to be a contemplative. Often, we are tempted to solve problems primarily with worldly means, placing our trust in new programs, advertising campaigns, and slogans. It must begin with prayer. It must begin with God.

          Do we really pray for people to come to the faith? Do we pray as if lives depend on it? Do we intercede for those on the front lines of the Mission and those with vocations to missionary institutes? Do we beg God that every baptized Christian, beginning with ourselves, will discover and live the apostolic dimension of the Christian life with tongues of fire given by the Holy Spirit? Do we implore for each of us to realize, as Pope Francis stated in The Joy of the Gospel, that “I am a mission on this earth; that is the reason why I am here in this world”?

          Third, St. Therese teaches us how to sacrifice for the missions. She told a sister she aspired to Carmel “to suffer more and by this means to save more souls.” She confessed, “Our Lord had made me understand that it was through the cross He would give me souls, … but I have made a covenant with God that they may be for the benefit of poor missionaries.” Three months before she died of tuberculosis at 24, she posed for a photograph, holding a saying of her foundress, St. Teresa of Avila, “To liberate only one [soul] I would gladly die many times over.”

        There are, of course, many ways to sacrifice for the Missions. If God permits physical sufferings, we can convert them into a bodily self-offering, as she did. We can sacrifice monetarily—truly sacrifice, going without things we need—to help missionaries who often go without many of the basics we take for granted. And we can make the commitment to give our life to spread the faith whether in far distant lands or our neighborhoods.

          Eleven days before she died, the Little Flower said that she wanted “even to save souls after my death.” She was excited that her missionary zeal would no longer be constrained by “cloister and grille.” She felt that “my mission is about to begin, … of making God loved as I love him,” and that her heaven would be spent “doing good on earth.” She said, “I cannot be happy rejoicing, I cannot rest, until all souls are saved.” The Little Flower is spending her heaven praying for us, that we and the whole Church might receive the fruit of her prayers to the Harvest Master and realize that we are the laborers He is summoning to take in His white and ripe harvest.

July 19, 2020

           At the end of March, toward the beginning of the pandemic shutdowns, actor and filmmaker John Krasinski established an uplifting and entertaining eight-part YouTube series entitled “Some Good News.” The show was “dedicated entirely to good news,” focusing on various heroes in the healthcare field, inspirational generosity from individuals and businesses, buoyant appearances by actors, singers, celebrities, and other touching features. Framed as a news program from his living room home studio, it sought to bring some joy and good out of pandemic’s various difficulties, like canceled graduation ceremonies, proms, and weddings. Seventy-two million people tuned in.

          The son of a Polish dad and Irish mom from Newton, Massachusetts, Krasinksi’s Catholic roots were hard to miss in the program’s title. In the midst of the incessant bad news of Covid-19, there was a need for “some Good News,” and Krasinski enthusiastically, passionately, contagiously, and touchingly provided. The response showed how deeply it resonated: a vast international movement erupted following his paradigm, as others, especially young people, reported on the good news that was happening all around them.

          The series filled a vacuum. It sought to remedy the obsessive preoccupation with bad news—exacerbated by the pandemic—prioritized by the secular media. But it also filled a gap left by the Church, which, though commissioned to preach the Good News in season and out of season, in pulpits, on street corners, and from rooftops, lacked similar creativity and, with some exceptions, largely retreated when people were hungering for hope. The Church exists to preach the Good News. And in circumstances like the coronavirus, with so much suffering, death, and instability, and, more recently, social unrest, injustice, and violence, its message is all the more urgent and needed.

            Someone who never forgot this lesson and who sought joyfully to proclaim the Good News at all times for 66 years was Father John Jay Hughes, a priest of the Archdiocese of St. Louis, author of 12 books, and Church historian, who died of heart failure on June 3^rd at the age of 92.

            He was a seventh-generation direct descendant of U.S. Founding Father and first Supreme Court Chief Justice John Jay, whose name he received in baptism. “Jay” grew up in somewhat elite Manhattan circles and graduated from Harvard at 20. His father and grandfather were leading Episcopalian priests and he followed them to ordination, happily serving for six years in Episcopalian parishes. Traveling through Belgium in 1959, he met some young Catholic theologians who corrected his false notions on papal infallibility, which led him on an arduous journey toward being received into the Catholic Church on Easter 1960. He called it the “most difficult decision I have ever made, but also the best.”

             Entering the Church brought with it some enormous loss. His priest father was unyielding with regard to those who “perverted to Rome” and told Jay that were he to become a Catholic, he would no longer be welcome in the family home. His father kept his promise. Jay never saw him again. His coming into full communion also required the sacrifice of the priesthood he loved, at least for a time, as he hoped that he would eventually find a Catholic bishop who would ordain him. He entrusted his priestly vocation to our Lady and asked her to restore it to him when God willed. Eventually, eight years later—with permission from the Vatican, after he made the case that the Episcopalian bishop who ordained him had valid apostolic succession—he was conditionally ordained a Catholic subdeacon, deacon, and priest by the Bishop of Münster, Germany, where he was studying for a doctorate in theology and where one of his professors was the young Fr. Joseph Ratzinger.

              He returned to the United States to teach at St. Louis University’s Divinity School. He suffered from what he described as a “clerical system [that] didn’t know what to do with me,” living in St. Louis but subject to a bishop in Germany. Eventually, he was incardinated into the Archdiocese of St. Louis, where he served in the chancery, as pastor of two parishes, and for many years as theological consultant to the Archbishop.

              There are two themes that made him such a powerful and joy-filled proclaimer of the Good News. On his thirteenth birthday, Jay had written a long list of all the things for which he was thankful. He would continue the practice for many years on his birthday. That practice made thanksgiving central in his life and prayer, and he would always begin his morning half-hour meditation with five minutes of thanksgiving to God. “Thankful people are happy people,” he loved to say in homilies, and, “If you are looking right now at a happy man, and a happy priest—and I can assure you that you are–it is because I have trained myself to say every day, more times than I could ever tell you: ‘Lord, you’re so good to me. And I’m so grateful.’”

              His thanksgiving abounded for the gift of the priesthood, a love that only grew during his eight years of exile from the altar awaiting Catholic ordination. “Priesthood has brought me joy beyond telling,” he said. “It has also brought me pain, sorrow, and grief. If you were to ask me, however, whether I have ever regretted obeying the Lord’s call to serve him and his holy people as a priest, I would answer without hesitation: never, not one single day. I would change just one thing: I would try to be more faithful. If I were to die tonight, I would die filled with happiness, joy, and thanksgiving beyond telling!” He never lost the sense of awe at celebrating Mass each day.

                 He began his long preparation for death at six years old, when his mother died suddenly. He did not know how to process his grief. After a few months, he received a grace. “It came home to me one day, with blinding certainty,” he said in another homily, “that I would see my beloved mother again, when the Lord called me home to himself” and left him with a very real sense of the unseen, spiritual world of God, the angels, saints and beloved dead.

           He was a great preacher. Among his books was a three-volume set of Sunday homilies entitled, “Proclaiming the Good News.” Each week he would send out his Sunday homilies to 3,000 people, including brother priests and bishops. In 2013, when his health began to decline and he needed to move into a priest’s retirement home, he noted that he was struggling with not having the opportunity to share the Good News each day as he had for decades in parishes. He was urged to start a blog and to post daily Mass homilies.

              That blog (jaystl.blogspot.com) is still up. Before Father Jay died, he posted who knows how many upcoming homilies. As of June 24^th, they are still appearing every day, as he posthumously continues, as a sustained valedictory of faith, to proclaim some good news and more.

July 12, 2020

           “I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you all the days of my life.” On the day of their wedding, most couples make those vows looking ahead to the future, praying that they will have far more happy times than sad, much more wellness than illness. During the pandemic, however, as the world endures the worst global sickness in a century and millions are enduring truly difficult times, those words take on added meaning.

          One of the things that have impressed and inspired me most during these last few months is how many young couples I have been preparing for marriage have prophetically and courageously been willing to say and live those words, now. Even though their guest lists have had to be pared from hundreds to ten. Even though they have needed to postpone receptions and honeymoons. Even though they have had to jump various hurdles to get marriage licenses and invent creative solutions concerning gowns, tuxes, flowers, and other wedding staples because their vendors have been deemed non-essential businesses and are closed. Even though, in short, they have had to let go of many of the elements of what constituted their dream wedding.

          One young couple told me that they prayed about what God was asking of them during this time of the pandemic and concluded that He wanted them to give witness to the Sacrament of Matrimony. “We can’t do anything about the decisions that have been made with regard to the availability of the Sacraments of Baptism, the Eucharist, Confession, Confirmation, and the Anointing of the Sick during the crisis,” they told me. “But to the extent that the decision is within our control, we want to show our family members, our fellow Catholics and everyone else, how important the Sacrament of Marriage is.”

          I celebrated the Nuptial Mass of a couple surrounded by just their immediate family members, with everyone else, even their closest friends, needing to watch via live stream. The groom told me during our marriage preparation sessions, “Marriage means joining together with each other and with God, and loving each other through every twist, turn and curve-ball that life throws our way.” I could not resist saying during the homily, “Life has certainly thrown you a curve ball these last couple of months, and the two of you, with four hands on the bat, are crushing that pitch for a leadoff homerun. And all those in attendance here, and the multitudes watching on live stream, are cheering you on as you begin to round the bases of married life.” Their many friends and family members who were not able to be present in the Church nevertheless arranged a joyful drive-by in their cars after the ceremony to congratulate the new husband and wife.

          None of these decisions were made without suffering. Some couples I am preparing for marriages this year also have chosen to postpone their wedding until 2021 because they could not imagine a wedding without all of their family and friends being able to travel to be present, or without a joyful reception afterward. Regardless of the decision, when all of these couples got engaged and first started to come to see me, none ever imagined having to consider postponing the long-awaited day because of a pandemic.

            I have noticed a few things, however, that have influenced the couples who have chosen to keep their dates. The first is a very strong vocational awareness. They know that they are called by God to marriage and they want to respond promptly to that call. As part of marriage preparation, when couples tell me that they are hoping God blesses them with children but they are intending to wait a couple of years trying to conceive, I gently remind them that one of the devil’s greatest temptations is to get us to think that “there’s always time.” I ask them, “If you knew you were only going to be married for five years before the other died a heroic death, would it change the way you think about when you’d like to start having children?” It invariably does alter their thinking and gets most to move up the timeline.

             I was very pleased when, faced with the decision about whether to postpone the marriage, one of the couples cited those words. “Father, if, by God’s will, we’re only going to be able to be married for five years before one of us gives our life to save another’s,” the bride-to-be said, “we would much rather spend that year as husband and wife. We have the vocation to marry each other, not to be engaged to each other!”

            The second characteristic is a deep appreciation for what happens in the Sacrament of Matrimony and the conviction in faith to prioritize the bond God creates over having all of their family and friends present, having a reception after the ceremony, being able to travel for the honeymoon, and the various other things that, though beautiful and meaningful, they do not consider as important. At a time in which many engaged couples cohabitate and others treat each other as if they were married, the couples choosing to keep their dates in general treat marriage as God’s bringing into existence something profoundly new, a communion with God and each other they desire and do not want to defer.

           The third trait is that those keeping their wedding dates are living their engagements with conspicuous chastity. Like any couple, they desire each other, but they know that they cannot morally consummate that desire and become one flesh until God joins them in one flesh. Waiting another year for a fuller celebration when they have been eagerly waiting their whole life to find the right one and to begin to “receive children lovingly from God and raise them according to the law of Christ and the Church” is something they are just not eager to do.

            Their choice to get married in the midst of worldwide sickness and tough times is a powerful proclamation that what couples profess to each other in their vows, they really mean. From the first day of their spousal coexistence, they are dramatically putting those words into practice. And they are giving the Church and the world a beautiful, provocative, and inspiring witness.

July 5, 2020

           On May 30^th, I was walking to St. Louis Cathedral for the priestly ordinations when I entered part of the sidewalk that was barracked off as a construction site. There was a African-American construction worker on the other side of the barricade who, as I approached, asked at high volume, presumably for his fellow workers to hear, “Are you taking part in the protest, Father?”

            Because of the mask he was wearing, I could not really be sure of his tone, but it seemed like a friendly query. “Are you a Christian?” I asked him, figuring that if he used the term “Father,” the odds were good. “Yes,” he replied with pride. “Well, as a Christian,” I smiled and said, “I protest on both knees.” He looked me quizzically, seeming to request elaboration. “Our first protest against evil is not to drop to one knee, like football players, but to drop to both knees in prayer, crying out to God for forgiveness for the evil of racism, for the wicked killing of George Floyd and other victims, for the sinister rampage of destruction and looting that have harmed so many businesses and led most others to have to board up their windows. We drop to our knees and beg God for help to fight against and repair these evils.” He paused as he processed what I was saying and then nodded his covered chin in agreement. “So would you like to march with me to the Cathedral,” I asked amicably, “where we can protest together before the Lord?” He replied with a laugh, “I have to work!” “Then I guess I’ll march for both of us!” I concluded, and gave him a hearty socially-distanced wave goodbye that he reciprocated with “Thanks!”

          I have been doing a lot of double-kneed protesting over the last couple of weeks. To protest means, according to its Latin roots, to “give witness” (testari) “on behalf of” or “in front of” (pro) others. I have been regularly going before the Lord in reparation for the indefensible slaying of George Floyd, for the history of racial injustice that African Americans have suffered in the U.S. all the way back to the evil of slavery at our national origin, for police officers who have become corrupted and for those who attack the good ones because of the bad, for the decades of inadequate responses, tokenism and political exploitation blacks continue to suffer from various leaders, and for the need of a movement to help convince others of what should be both obvious, culturally, and legally ensured, that life matters!

          I have also been building up knee callouses in response to the evil I have seen in many cities by those using the protests as a cover for anarchic destruction, organized crime, and brazen robbery. A friend of mine, who is a priest in New York City describes, his experience:

Last Monday morning, walking back after celebrating Mass at a different convent down by City Hall, I passed through China Town and Little Italy making my way north. I normally don’t read the news before Mass and so I was unaware of the severity of what had happened the previous night.

Turning left from Mulberry Street onto Bleeker, ahead of me on the sidewalk, I saw thousands of tiny shards of glass. As I drew closer, I could see that all the windows of the store had been shattered. Turning the corner onto Lafayette Street, I saw that many establishments had met the same fate, cars on the road had had their windshields and windows smashed, and graffiti was everywhere. I saw stunned store owners trying to contain themselves, sweaty construction workers putting up boards to cover the windows, and people scrubbing walls to clean the graffiti.

As I walked on farther, every block or two, a store had been singled out for destruction, looting or graffiti, and random cars for gratuitous damage. This continued most of my way home, including an attack on the doors and display windows of an eyeglass store a few blocks from home. And those were not even the worst sections, where cars and buildings had been set on fire.

Then on Thursday, traversing the city westward for confessions and Mass at 6 am, I felt like I was crossing a lumber yard. Construction workers were already hard at work not building new skyscrapers but cutting plywood and hammering it into windows and doors as protection. All the iconic stores of New York, national media studios, restaurants, banks, hotels, museums and basically everything else not made from stone was being boarded up.

This was a result of a lack of trust in the protesters’ good will and in New York’s leadership to protect the city’s citizens and businesses, not to mention enforce its curfew or the most basic Covid-19 social-distancing regulations.

Police officers told me they felt basically powerless to fight the vandals and pillagers effectively, because local and state leadership, under the guide of “justice reform,” had recently passed laws and orders that prevent law enforcement from holding overnight in jail those arrested for most crimes.

To see almost all of Midtown boarded up was like the collective raising of a white flag of surrender to the mobs, something that saddened me almost as much as witnessing the destruction a few days earlier. While similar upheavals have been taking place in major cities across the country, there is something particularly painful about seeing it happen in New York City, a symbol of American resilience after 9/11. After the 2001 terrorist attacks, the city defiantly, courageously, inspiringly rose again, spurred on by true leadership at various levels. This time, discouraged by leadership at most levels, and enfeebled by three months of fear of the coronavirus, the only defense it seemed capable of mustering against riots was to build plywood walls.

Most residents and store owners had understood that if after months of enforced social distancing with stark messages about how deadly Covid-19 was—that we risked killing seniors, the vulnerable and even the apparently healthy if we asymptomatically and inadvertently passed the virus on—state and municipal leaders allowed crowds of thousands of people to convene to march, rally, and mourn, then those in public office were not serious about enforcing laws and executive orders even during what they had called apocalyptic pandemics. Those wishing to take advantage of lawlessness were paying attention.

          Some argued that the importance of the cause justified such an exception. The cause is indisputably important. But when authorities shut down Jewish funerals with 50 people in the streets and pretend as if Catholics would violate love of neighbor if ten people were at Mass across a vast cathedral, and then permit thousands to agglutinate for any other reason, it communicates that there is one set of rules for the protesters and another for everyone else.

         The fight against inequality will never be won, however, by other forms of inequality. Injustice before the law will never be rectified by other forms of injustice. New double-standards will not eliminate, but, through fomenting resentment, likely perpetuate, the contemptible double-standards against which multitudes are marching. Justice, equality, and peace will come only through assiduously treating people equally according to their equal dignity.

         Catholics should be on the front lines of the fight for justice. But we should always remember two things. Marchers should begin in the front pews, protesting devoutly before God. “Unless God build the house, in vain do the builders labor” (Ps 127:1). The first thing Catholics should always do in response to any need or crisis is unite themselves to God in prayer. And when they take to the streets, they should head toward the One who never ceases to say, “Follow me.” Christ perpetually asks us to march with Him and the pilgrimage of the Church in time is a march for love and against sin. Marches guided by different principles or different destinations will not deliver the justice and peace they seek.

June 28, 2020

           I often visit Espn.com to peruse the happenings in the world of sports. There I get more than box scores, videos, and articles on recent happenings in major sports. I also receive inspiration from the heroism of various teams and athletes, who overcome seemingly insurmountable life situations to make the pros or mount incredible comebacks under pressure to win games or championships or handle crushing defeats with grace and maturity.

           Sports have always been one of the great practice fields for human growth—for cultivating preparation, perseverance, leadership, teamwork, poise—and even in an age in which many star athletes fail to live in an exemplary way off the field, the character of those who strive to be role models can have a profoundly positive influence on others in various walks of life. That is one reason why St. Paul regularly used sports—like running and boxing—in his preaching of the Gospel because what is required to fight the good fight and finish the race in athletics is akin to the discipline needed to be faithful disciples. In my priestly work with men, young people, and increasingly with women, sports have not only been a good conversation starter but a school of spiritual lessons.

          Even though I am routinely inspired by articles and features on Espn.com, I have never encountered anything as moving as the lead article and video the morning of August 3, 2019. It was about a cloistered nun, Sr. Rose Marie of the Queen of Angels, from the Poor Clare monastery in Alexandria, Virginia, who had just celebrated the 25^thanniversary of her profession. The article, entitled, “Whatever Happened to Villanova Basketball Star Shelly Pennefather? ‘So I Made This Deal With God,’” was part of a promo for a documentary entitled “A Long Embrace” about the former Mary Michelle “Shelly” Pennefather, debuting that evening.

          Shelly was the highest scorer in Villanova basketball history who in the early 1990s was on the verge of becoming the highest paid female basketball player in the world, but opted instead to embrace poverty, chastity, and obedience far from the lights of the arena and cameras. Her story, and the way it impacted the life of her coach, teammates, former boyfriend, and the author of the article, ESPN senior writer Elizabeth Merrill, was written with a reverence and awe that the best Catholic publications could not surpass. The coverage was a mix of fascination and incomprehension at how someone like Shelly could make the choice not just to leave riches, fame, and athletic glory behind to become a religious sister, where she might be able to teach and coach others to greatness in this world and beyond, but to become an “incarcerated” cloistered nun perpetually behind the grille, as Sr. Rose Marie jokingly describes her life. The truly radical nature of her vocation, it became clear as the article progressed, although respected, remained shocking even 28 years after she passed through the monastery portal.

              St. Therese of the Child Jesus once famously quipped that we cannot become saints by halves, that is, by giving less than one hundred percent. We are living, however, in an age of compromises with the faith, in which we will give ourselves with total dedication to our families, careers, sports, and volunteer work, but moderate our commitment to the Lord lest we be “fanatical.” Even though Jesus called us to love God with all our mind, heart, soul, and strength, most of us are satisfied with giving Him only a percentage. We can easily relate to the decision made by the Rich Young Man: after Jesus told him that to have it all he needed to sell all he had, give the money to the poor and then come follow Him, he walked away because he did not have the strength to choose Jesus over all his stuff.

             Amid a materialist, hedonist, and autonomous age, the radical nature of the religious life, uniting oneself to the poor, chaste, and obedient Jesus as one’s true wealth, love, and freedom, is an extraordinary sign of contradiction. Even more so is the cloistered life like that adopted by Sr. Rose Marie, voluntarily cutting herself off both from the things to which so many of us are addicted, like televisions, computers, cell phones, and the culture of the instantaneous, as well as from some of the most beautiful and meaningful things in life, like contact with family and friends any time we want.

              The choice she has made, however, is a modern illustration of Jesus’ parables of the treasure buried in the field and the pearl of great price (Mt 13:44-46). There are certain things worth joyfully selling all one has in order to obtain. Cloistered nuns make a bold proclamation that God is greater than all other great gifts and realities in life. It is a prophetic declaration that God’s love is enough to satisfy the desires He has placed in the human heart. It is a witness that the most important thing we need to do in life is to love God back with all our might.

              In a sixth-grade class, when Shelly was asked what she was hoping to be when she grew up, she replied, “I’m going to be a saint!” At first, her classmates laughed, thinking that their humorous companion was just trying to be witty. She was serious. To desire the end is to choose the means. St. Thomas Aquinas said that all one needs to do to become a saint is to will it—but to will it with all one’s heart. And Sr. Rose Marie has willed it with the same type of focus, determination, and perseverance with which many men will to win Super Bowls.

              Her decision was nourished by her understanding of the Eucharist. As a young woman, she was struck by Jesus’ words, “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him” (Jn 6:56), and grasped that she wanted to live her life with Christ in the Eucharist as the center and root of her life. Attending daily Mass at Villanova and then in Japan where she played pro ball, her hunger only grew. Her life has become a commentary on Jesus’ words, “Just as the Father who has life sent me and I have life because of the Father, so also the one who feeds on me will have life because of me” (Jn 6:57). It has also become an elucidation of the words of consecration, as she has given her body, blood, and life together with Jesus for others.

                We get a glimpse of how much fruit her religious life has borne in various people in the video. Via letters and their occasional visits to the monastery, she has counseled her former coach, Villanova teammates, and family members through troubled home situations, child-raising sagas, physical sufferings, the death of loved ones, and major life choices. Many of her teammates remarked that she and her fellow Poor Clares, rather than being oblivious to what is happening in the world, are very well informed on major worldly events, because their vocation is to pray for those in the world, like Moses on the mountain as the battle was waging in the plain (Ex 17:11). They continue to pray for persons and outcomes long after the petitioners have forgotten having made the request.

              Much was made in the article and documentary about her impressive feats on the court: 96-0 in high school; a record 2,408 points for Villanova, in the era before three-pointers; three-time All-America and Big East Player of the Year; and 1987 Wade Trophy as Female College Player of the Year. When the General Judgment takes place, however, those achievements will seem insignificant compared to what she is now accomplishing with a different team and a different coach in monastic enclosure toward an imperishable crown—an eternal victory won by Christ that she and her habited teammates are praying that we will share.

June 21, 2020

           This weekend, we celebrate Father’s Day throughout the United States. It is a relatively recent celebration, made a permanent national holiday on the third Sunday of June only in 1972 when it was signed into law by President Nixon. President Lyndon Johnson had given the first presidential proclamation honoring fathers only six years prior. Mother’s Day, by contrast, was proclaimed by President Woodrow Wilson in 1914 to be held on the second Sunday of May. The earlier celebration for mothers is partially explained by the desire to honor the work of moms at a time in our nation’s history when women and their contributions to society were often widely underappreciated. But the length of the delay for fathers may also explain how the role of men precisely as fathers has similarly been underappreciated.

            Social science has been documenting in recent decades just how important the role of fathers is in raising children to be integrated adults. When kids grow up without a father in the home, they experience much higher rates of school suspensions, staying back in school, dropping out of school, child poverty, youth violence, crime, incarcerations, drug use, behavioral disorders, obesity, running away from home, homelessness, sexual abuse, promiscuity, teen pregnancy, and suicide. This is particularly concerning when 43 percent of children in the US now live without a father in the home.

            The future Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI said in a March 2000 speech in Palermo, “The crisis of fatherhood we are experiencing today is an element, perhaps the most important element, threatening man in his humanity.” The crisis, he said more specifically, is a “dissolution of fatherhood,” flowing from reducing paternity to a biological phenomenon without its human and spiritual dimensions. Fathers are treated as superfluous, seen in the explosion of what sociologists now term sperm dads, absent dads, dead-beat dads, visiting dads, nice-guy dads, and various other descriptors for fathers who have no decisive role in protecting, providing for, rearing, and mentoring the children they have begotten.

             When kids, however, are blessed with a dad who has made a lifetime commitment to their mom and them, when fathers live up to their calling, they, in general, do much better. That is why on this Father’s Day it is so important to celebrate and thank dads who have lovingly prioritized their responsibilities to their families. But it is also why it is key to celebrate and promote fatherhood in general, not just for the good of men, but also for the good of the women who count on their capacity for faithful love and for the children who so much need both parents in a committed alliance.

            In the promotion of fatherhood and the formation of men to be good dads, the Church has much to offer. Practically, there are organizations like the Knights of Columbus as well as an explosion of parish men’s groups (i.e. the Divine Mercy Men’s Club) and diocesan conferences to help men support each other as sons, brothers, husbands, and dads. Theologically, there is a goldmine of wisdom about the paternal meaning of man’s masculinity found in what Jesus revealed about God the Father and in His own spiritual fatherhood that can help men.

             Pope Emeritus Benedict in a 2012 General Audience spoke about the greatness of fatherhood in the divine plan. “Perhaps people today,” he said, “fail to perceive the beauty, greatness and profound consolation contained in the word ‘father’ with which we can turn to God in prayer because today the father figure is often not sufficiently present and all too often is not sufficiently positive in daily life. From Jesus himself, from his filial relationship with God, we can learn what ‘father’ really means and what is the true nature of the Father who is in heaven. In the Gospel, Christ shows us who is the father and as he is a true father, we can understand true fatherhood and even learn true fatherhood.”

              Jesus came to reveal God the Father and the depth of His love for His children. He showed us how the Father takes delight in His children (Mt 3:17), loves unconditionally (Mt 5:45), is provident and responsible (Mt 6:26), pays close and caring attention (Mt 6:8), forgives (Lk 6:36, 15:11-32), teaches (Mt 11:25-26, 16:17, Jn 6:44), lovingly disciplines (Heb 12:5-11), works hard (Jn 5:17, 36), and shares His life (Jn 6:40), giving an example for all earthly dads. Likewise, Jesus, the icon of the Father, the New Adam and the father of the restored creation, exercised His own spiritual paternity in becoming the principle of the new life we receive in the Sacraments through His passion, death, and resurrection.

              It is in this sense that priests—who act “in the person of Christ” in the sacraments—exercise Christ’s fatherhood and are appropriately called “fathers.” Their fatherhood cannot be reduced merely to spiritually generative sacramental actions but is meant to flow into fatherly identity and behavior, particularly in the commitment they make spiritually to protect, provide for, rear and mentor the spiritual children entrusted to them. When priests are reduced to ecclesiastical functionaries who never form authentic fatherly bonds with the individuals and families whose baptisms, weddings, and funerals they celebrate, there is a huge problem. That is why recent remarks by Cardinal John Dew, Archbishop of Wellington, New Zealand, are so myopic and potentially harmful. In an April 4^th column in 2019, he praised an article by Fr. Jean-Pierre Roche in La Croix International that argued that we should stop calling priests “Father.” He recited Roche’s three arguments: Jesus says we should call no one on earth our father (Mt 23:8-9); calling someone “father” necessarily places one in the inferior position of a child when we are all supposed to be equal; and denoting a “father” inevitably fosters a relationship of dependence and obedience. In response to Pope Francis’ call to fight against clericalism, Cardinal Dew said, ceasing to call priests “father” or him “Eminence” or “Cardinal” “might seem like a very small thing to do, but it may be the beginning of the reform in the Church.” The reform of the Church is not going to come from calling the Pope “Frank,” or the Archbishop of Wellington “John,” or the pastor of one’s parish by his baptismal moniker. It is not going to come from the verbal dissolution of the spiritual paternity of the priesthood, but rather, from the buttressing of the authentic fatherly nature of the priestly call. Clericalism is an abuse of spiritual fatherhood just as much as authoritarianism is an abuse of natural fatherhood. The remedy is not to eliminate the oral reminders of fatherly identity but to purify the exercise of fatherhood. As the wise aphorism goes, abusus non tollit usum: the misuse of something is no argument against its proper use.

              Regarding the arguments cited, Jesus’ words to call no one father, or rabbi, or master were meant to communicate that no one should seek to replace God, who is our principal father, teacher, and master. We can still call our dads father, our instructors’ teacher, and our rabbis rabbi, provided that we are not treating them as if they were God. The context shows that Jesus was correcting the Pharisees for prioritizing a separate set of allegiances based on rabbinical tradition over what God Himself had revealed. Jesus Himself uses the word father several times, when He speaks about not loving “father or mother” more than Him and of leaving one’s “father” to follow Him (Mt 10:37; Mk 10:29). Jesus’ example, as well as St. Paul’s after him, shows us the use of father to refer to spiritual fatherhood, like that exercised by priests. Jesus cites Abraham, our father in faith, as “Father Abraham” in a parable. St. Paul tells the Corinthians, “In Christ Jesus I became your father through the Gospel” (1 Cor 4:15).

             Does calling someone a “father” necessarily place the spiritual son or daughter in an inferior position or create a situation of dependence and obedience? Perhaps when we are dealing with infants, but not with adults. When adults call their parents “Mom” and “Dad,” they are not referring to a power-axis—in many cases, the children are the ones making the decisions—but employing a term of fact, endearment, and reverence. Similarly, when Catholics use father, they are not employing it in the sense of the ancient, brutal Roman paterfamilias. They are recognizing the priest’s role to provide for, protect, and guide them spiritually. That is why on this Father’s Day, in addition to thanking our earthly dads, we should also be celebrating God the Father and the spiritual fatherhood of Jesus as well as the way priests are called by both to cooperate with the Holy Spirit in becoming spiritual fathers after the image of Father and Son.

June 14, 2020

           How do we increase knowledge and faith of the reality of Jesus in the Eucharist? It begins with taking seriously what the Church believes and courageously living it, so that others might come to believe. Faith is not just taught but caught, and everything the Church does ought to help people catch it. I would like to mention nine practices for consideration. I hope in doing so that we can get beyond the “liturgical wars,” beyond even our preferences, to concentrate on what is truly conducive to communicating clearly and effectively the Church’s Eucharistic faith.

          First, priestly Eucharistic piety. Priests have the greatest role and responsibility for turning the situation right-side-up. There is a difference between priests who live truly Eucharist lives and those who do not. It is manifested in the way they pray rather than recite the Mass, handle the Eucharist in their hands and distribute, put reverence into genuflections, celebrate Mass on their days off, pray before the Blessed Sacrament, promote Eucharistic adoration, refer in their preaching to Jesus in the Eucharist, and sit in the confessional so that people can be worthy to receive Him. Eucharistic priests form Eucharistic parishes, and Eucharistic parishes not only survive but thrive and renew the Church.

           Second, tabernacles in the forefront of our sanctuaries. If we know the Eucharist is truly the King of Kings, why would we put Him anywhere else than in the most important place? Moreover, would not our tabernacles be the most exquisite item in the whole Church, to convey this truth and love?

            Third, prayer before the Eucharistic Jesus. If we believe that in the Eucharist, Jesus fulfills His promise to be with us always until the end of time (Mt 28:20), and we recognize that people need Jesus, then we must provide access to Him. Locked Churches, however common, are a scandal. They are shut, of course, out of safety, lest the Church suffer vandalism, but the remedy is vigorously promoting prayer and adoration with a sense of shared responsibility. Eucharistic adoration may be itself the most important element in the turnaround, for no one worships bread.

            Fourth, daily Mass. If the Eucharist is really Jesus, then is there anything more important we can do on Mondays, or Thursdays, or any day than receive Him? Daily Mass changes a believer from someone who fulfills a Sunday duty to someone who treats the Eucharistic Lord with generous love.

               Fifth, not rushing Holy Communion. Catholics believe receiving Jesus Christ is the most incredible moment in human life. Why would we ever hurry it? In many parishes, we often hear the phrase that we do not want communion to “take too long.” But emphasizing “efficiency” over this encounter between God and His beloved is unwise and counterproductive.

              Sixth, receiving with greater reverence. It is certainly possible for people to receive the Lord devoutly in their hands while standing. We should not forget, however, that when Cranmer, with Machiavellian discernment, was seeking to destroy Eucharistic piety in post-Reformation England, he did it principally through promoting communion in the hands while standing. If men drop to their knees to propose to beloved future brides, cannot we kneel out of love to receive the Lord? Does not Holy Communion on the tongue far better communicate the sense of receiving the Eucharist as a gift? Since we seldom kneel except for God and seldom allow others to put things into our mouths, such a gesture would communicate the uniqueness of what we are doing.

              Seventh, living the Church’s teaching about worthy reception. We do not transmit faith in the Real Presence when we permit anyone and everyone, regardless of their conditions, to receive the Eucharist. This concerns, not just those who obstinately persist in manifest grave sin, like Catholic politicians with scandalous public or private lives, but also Catholics who have committed serious sins yet to be absolved and non-Catholics who are not yet in communion. People notice whether we take the holiness of Jesus in the Eucharist seriously or treat the Eucharist like a piece of cake at a birthday party. Our example instructs.

               Eighth, terminology. Our vocabulary must communicate our faith. We should boldly use the terms “sacred Body” and “precious Blood.” Mention of “bread” and “wine” at all—even “Eucharistic bread” or “consecrated wine”—confuses the faithful and does not communicate the truth. This is particularly important for catechists and liturgical ministers. We also need to be particularly careful about what is taught through liturgical music. “Look beyond the bread you eat” is heretical. Singing a catchy mantra, “Eat this bread, drink this cup,” teaches something far different than “Eat my flesh, drink my blood.”

              Ninth, pulling out all the stops. If we really believe the Eucharist is Jesus, and we love Him, then it should show, lavishly. St. Thomas Aquinas wrote in one of his Eucharistic hymns, “quantum potes, tantum aude,” “Dare to do all you can.” The more we do to enhance the beauty and dignity of the liturgy and of our churches, the more we will convey our Eucharistic faith.

             As I make these suggestions, I would like to emphasize that not only is none of them “against Vatican II,” or against the authentic liturgical reforms of the last 50 years, but each is meant to bring about the central liturgical aim of the Council: the “full and active participation by all the people,” and not just in the liturgy but in what the liturgy is meant to accomplish: bring us into communion with Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit. I would also like to underline that none of the ideas are new or original. In fact, many are already being implemented in various parishes, dioceses, religious communities, schools, and movements—and in general, have led to flourishing counter-indications to the Pew Research Center’s troubling report.

              Putting Jesus in the Holy Eucharist in His proper place leads to great vitality. Not doing so leads to decline and death. That is the choice the Church faces. Who do we say that the Eucharist is?

June 7, 2020

           In Caesarea Philippi, Jesus asked who people said He was, and His two polls showed that only one person said He believed Jesus was who He truly was, the Messiah and Son of God (Mt 16:13-20). Recently the Pew Research Center asked U.S. Catholics who or what they understood the Eucharist to be. The response, like in Caesarea, was sobering. Only 50 percent of U.S. Catholics said that they knew the Church’s teaching that after the consecration, the bread and wine are totally changed into Jesus’ body and blood; 45 percent said that the Church teaches that the “bread” and “wine” are only symbols, and five percent did not know what the Church teaches. Even among the 50 percent of those who were aware of the Church’s teaching, a third said that they still regarded the Eucharist as a symbol, leaving a total of only 31 percent who believed the Church’s teaching. Sixty-nine percent of Catholics said that they believe that the Eucharist was just a symbol—that Jesus is not on the altar after the consecration, or in the tabernacle, or within us after Holy Communion.

          Rather than news, the report was a confirmation of what had long been known and inferred: there is a grave crisis in Eucharistic faith. That crisis is ultimately at the root of many others: low Mass attendance, shuttered parishes, closed schools, insufficient priestly vocations, waning Catholic influence in society, growing secularism, and, as Pope-emeritus Benedict incisively wrote in April 2019, even the clerical sexual abuse of minors. That is why the results have justly been occupying the attention of bishops, priests, commentators, and all those who care about the Church and the Lord. Many have focused on the need for much better catechesis across the board. That is absolutely true, but inadequate and shortsighted. Christianity is not a classroom trying to help people pass a standardized test, but a way of life. Even if the results came back and 100 percent of surveyed Catholics identified the Church’s teaching with precision and affirmed faith in it, the larger question would remain: are they living Eucharistic lives, with Jesus in the Eucharist as the source, summit, root, and center of their existence? Knowing and believing are indispensable steps, but the goal is Eucharistic living. This is something that goes far beyond mere Sunday Mass attendance. It is whether we live in holy communion with the Risen Lord incarnate in the Eucharist, whether we draw our life from Him, whether we permit Him from within to make our life a commentary on the words of consecration.

           Knowing how we got here is key to knowing how to respond adequately. After the Second Vatican Council, there were many ideas and practices that undermined knowledge and faith in the Real Presence. Some priests, religious, and theologians advanced a desacralizing ideology that, falsely claiming to be the “Spirit of Vatican II,” attacked Eucharistic piety, destroyed high altars and altar rails, banished tabernacles to side altars or chapels, and basically sought to effect a Copernican shift in Eucharistic focus away from worshipping God and onto idolatry of the community. Many of these iconoclasts taught in seminaries and Catholic universities, where, with impunity, they diabolically derided Eucharistic adoration as the superstitious “worship of a breadbox” and persecuted seminarians who wanted to make holy hours or have exposition. This sadly was not isolated. And it certainly impacted those future priests who did not know the faith well enough to recognize the voice of false prophets.

            But that is not the principal explanation. The bigger one is a series of practices regarding the Eucharist that, regardless of the intentions in inaugurating them, impacted what the faithful know and believe. The ancient aphorism lex orandi, lex credendi reminds us that how we pray impacts what we believe. The way we have spoken about the Eucharist in word and body language, in music and architecture, over the last half-century has unquestionably impacted what people understand and believe. The location and beauty of the tabernacle, the posture with which we receive Holy Communion, the pace at which Holy Communion is distributed, the direction of our worship, the liturgical vocabulary we use, the widespread encouragement and allowance of almost everyone to receive, the accessibility of Churches for prayer, the frequency of Eucharistic adoration, and the Eucharistic piety of the priests and others who lead the Church’s prayer all matter.

          How do we increase knowledge and faith in the reality of Jesus in the Eucharist? It begins with taking seriously what the Church believes and courageously living it, so that others might come to believe. Faith is not just taught but caught, and everything the Church does ought to help people catch it.

           In next week’s article, I would like to mention nine practices for consideration. I hope in doing so that we can get beyond the “liturgical wars,” beyond even our preferences, to concentrate on what is truly conducive to communicating clearly and effectively the Church’s Eucharistic faith.

May 31, 2020

           May 31^st is traditionally the Feast Day of the Visitation of the Lord in which, among other things, we ponder the in-utero interaction between Jesus and John the Baptist. Mary, a few days pregnant with her Creator, visits her elderly cousin Elizabeth, six-months pregnant with the forerunner of the One through whom all things were made. John, before his vocal cords had developed to be the voice crying in the wilderness, testified to Jesus by making his mom’s womb a peritoneal trampoline, leaping with joy. Jesus, before his human fingers and hand had even formed, nevertheless blessed His cousin, sanctifying him for his mission of preparing Jesus’ way. It is an extraordinary mystery, one that is particularly significant for those in pro-life work. The Sisters of Life name all their outreach centers helping pregnant women choose life—in New York, Toronto, and Philadelphia—“Visitation” Missions. They seek to live, and show the Church how to live, both sides of this Visitation mystery.

          Jesus taught clearly that everyone who received a child in His name, receives Him, and that whatever we do to the least He takes personally (Mt 18:5; 25:40), and so the first side of the mystery is to help women come to embrace the fruit of their womb as a blessing, as Mary received Jesus in the world’s most famous (humanly) unplanned pregnancy. The other side of the mystery is that they, like Mary, go out to care for modern Elizabeths, pregnant women in need, helping them in so many practical ways during pregnancy and beyond so that the women may eventually feel their children kicking and leaping within—and one day jumping into their arms with joy. Like the Annunciation, the Visitation is a feast on which we can and should ponder the deeper meaning of human life in the womb. It is also an opportunity for us to see in greater relief what happens when that renascent life encounters violence rather than love.

           In May of 2019, Pope Francis gave us another extraordinary discourse on abortion when greeting participants in a Vatican Conference dedicated to the theme, “Yes to Life! Care for the Precious Gift of Life in Fragile Situations.” Bringing together 400 experts from 70 countries, it was sponsored by the Vatican’s Dicastery for Laity, Family and Life, the Knights of Columbus and the Italian foundation Heart in a Drop, which was formed in 2015 to promote scientific research and the growth of a culture that protects the life of mother and child before conception, during pregnancy and after birth. Pope Francis spoke plainly about the “throwaway culture” that considers children diagnosed with various malformations and pathologies “incompatible with life,” and that often leaves them, in places with ready access to abortion, “condemned to death.” Francis emphasized, however, that “no human being can ever be incompatible with life, not due to his age, his health conditions, or the quality of his existence. Every child that enters a woman’s womb is a gift, which changes the history of a family, of a father and a mother, of grandparents and siblings. And this baby is in need of being received, loved and taken care of.”

           He stated that every time a woman discovers that she is pregnant, she becomes aware of a mystery within, of a “presence, growing within her, pervading her whole being, making her not only a woman but a mother.” He marveled at the “intense, crisscrossing dialogue” established between mother and child from conception that fosters a “mutual adaptation, as the little one grows and develops.” That crosstalk, however, can change, he said, when the child is diagnosed with a serious condition that endangers his or her life, robbing the mother and father of serenity and feeling powerless.

           At the same time, he stressed that children in the womb with such conditions are “little patients who not rarely can be cured with pharmacologic, surgical and extraordinary care interventions” and, when they cannot, can be placed in perinatal hospices that “provide essential support to families that accept the birth of a sick child.” Pope Francis summoned doctors and nurses to give “competent accompaniment” that affirms the “sacred value of human life” and takes responsibility for those little patients and their family members. In the very trying situation of children who are destined to die immediately or soon after birth, whose care “might seem a useless commitment of resources and further suffering for the parents,” Pope Francis said it is rather an opportunity to bring familial love to fulfillment. “To take care of these children helps parents, in fact, to work through their mourning and think of it not only as a loss but as a stage on a path followed together. That child will remain in their life forever. And they will have been able to love him. Often those few hours in which a mother can cradle her child leave a trace in the woman’s heart, which she never forgets.”

          This approach is in stark contrast, he said, to the culture of waste that justifies abortion for such children in fragile circumstances under the euphemism of “prevention.” It is really, he stated, part of an “inhuman eugenic mentality” toward children with disabilities. Opposition to abortion, in these circumstances and in every situation, he underlined, is not principally a thing of faith, but “pre-religious” and simply “human.” He said two questions that clarify the issues at state are: “Is it licit to eliminate a human life to solve a problem?” and “Is it licit to hire a hitman to solve a problem.” He answered by saying that it is never permitted to “do away with a human life or hire a hitman to resolve a problem.” Everyone sees these truths clearly with regard to those who have been born. He wants us to see it just as clearly with regard to those who will grow into kids and adults if they are not assassinated.

            He then gave a powerful example from his time as Archbishop of Buenos Aires of how “abortion is never the answer that women and families seek.” “There was a 15-year old girl with Down Syndrome who became pregnant, and her parents went to the judge to ask permission for her to abort. The judge, an upright and serious man, studied the matter and said: ‘I want to question the girl.’ ‘But she has Down Syndrome, she doesn’t understand,’ [the parents replied]. “No, no, have her come,’” the judge responded. “The 15-year old girl went, sat down, and began to talk with the judge and he said to her: ‘Do you know what is happening to you?’ ‘Yes, I’m sick. … They told me that I have an animal inside that is eating my stomach so I must have surgery,’” the girl said. “No, you don’t have a parasite that is eating your stomach,’ [the judge retorted]. ‘Do you know what you have there? A child!’ And the Down’s girl said: ‘Oh, how beautiful!’ … With this, the judge didn’t authorize the abortion. The [girl’s] mother wanted it.” The Pope went on to give the rest of the story. “A girl was born. The years passed. She studied, grew up and became a lawyer. From the moment this girl became aware of her history, she called the judge on her birthday to thank him for the gift of her birth. … The judge died and now [the daughter of the girl with Down Syndrome] has become a prosecutor.”

             “Abortion,” the Pope reiterated based on the story, “is never the answer that women and families seek,” and he thanked those families, those moms and dads, who have “accepted fragile life” and who support others in such situations, saying their “witness of love is a gift for the world.” In contrast to the throwaway, eugenic inhumanity that undergirds the abortion of handicapped children and others, this warm, welcoming culture of parents and medical professionals to kids in fragile situations manifests a culture of love. It is the only adequate answer to another human being, however young, however disabled. It is the culture that Christians find in the mystery of the Visitation.

May 24, 2020

           One of the great paradoxes in the Gospel is about peace. On the one hand, Jesus says during the Last Supper, “Peace I leave you. My peace I give you” (Jn 14:27); on the other, when He sends out His 72 disciples, He says, “Do not think that I have come to bring peace upon the earth. I have come to bring not peace but the sword” and describes that because of Him, even families will be divided. Has He come to bring peace or division, to unite or scatter?

          He has clearly come as the “Prince of Peace” (Is 9:5) in order to fulfill what the angels sang the morning He was born, “Peace on earth to people of good will” (Lk 2:14). He took on our nature to ratify in His own flesh the definitive peace treaty between God and the human race. He has come to “guide our feet into the path of peace” (Lk 1:79). But He has left each person free. Not everyone will choose to follow Him on the way of peace. Not everyone will believe in or adopt what He describes as peace’s essential conditions. Many will choose, in fact, to do the opposite of what Jesus says—and how much division flows from such a path. What I would like to do in this article is explore five things Jesus reveals about the path to peace. Jesus said, “Not as the world gives do I give [peace] to you” (Jn 14:27), and so these elements are different than what we would learn in foreign service training. But just as He turned worldly logic right-side-up with regard to happiness in the beatitudes, so Jesus also does so regarding His peace plan for a world rife with conflict.

          The first is to prioritize God. After Jesus describes that He has come “to bring not peace but the sword,” He specifies, “I have come to set a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and one’s enemies will be those of his household.” This is not because Jesus came to divide: He came to gather and to save. But not everyone will accept His offer. We see the division He foretold in families, for example, in the envy that husbands feel when their wives start spending more time with Jesus in prayer, or the brutal ribbing teenagers will take when they announce to their peers that they think God may be calling them to the priesthood or consecrated life. Those who don’t put God first often won’t like the new priorities. It’s an indirect challenge to them, and often they’ll respond the way most kindergarteners respond to the teachers’ pets, simply because the other is good. Those who do not want to prioritize God are often intolerant of those who do.

           At a macroscopic level, we see how much lack of peace has come from those who do not want to give God his due. Historians tell us that the twentieth century was quantitatively by far the most violent century in the history of humanity, with more people executed than in all previous centuries combined. We know that that abhorrent bloodbath was not unleashed in the name of religion, but under the banner of various secularist, anti-religious, or explicitly atheistic regimes like we have seen under Stalin, Hitler, Ataturk, Pol Pot, and others. If the perversion of religion has occasionally led to violence, the prevention and persecution of religion has empirically been worse. While religion has not been successful in restraining every believer’s propensity for violence, the absence of religion—living practically as if God does not exist—has been much less successful. To prioritize God means not just to acknowledge His existence but to pray. In 2011, on the vigil before the 25^thanniversary of John Paul II’s famous interreligious Prayer for Peace in Assisi, Pope Benedict said, “The most precious contribution we can make to the cause of peace is that of prayer.” Prayer helps us to become more like the God whom we address. It makes us far more capable of seeing those with whom we might have a conflict not as enemies but as fellow human beings created and loved by God, so that we will treat them not like Cain behaved toward Abel but as Joseph acted toward his brothers in Egypt.

           The second thing Jesus reveals is the connection between peace and following His commands. Right before Jesus said, “Peace I leave you. My peace I give you,” He spoke of keeping His word and commandments, before adding, “If you keep my commandments, you will remain in my love” (Jn 14:21; Jn 15:10). We will never have peace without love, and Jesus stated that all the commandments hang on the two-fold commandment of love of God and neighbor (Mt 22:40). We see this connection very readily in practice. How much more peace there would be if people minimally just kept the Decalogue: there would be no murder, hatred, broken or wounded families, stealing, lying, or envy. There would be intergenerational respect. People would make time to put God first in their lives, and to praise and worship Him. These are basic principles for obtaining that peace that the world cannot give or rob.

           The third practice is to wish peace. When Jesus sent out the 12 apostles and later the 72 disciples, He told them upon entering a house to wish it peace, promising that if a peaceful person lives there, the peace would remain (Mt 10:13; Lk 10:5). Notice that Jesus did not say, “Investigate as to whether peaceful people are there first.” He wanted us to wish peace to everyone, to have a positive prejudice about the people we would meet. This is the exact opposite of the suspicion that often reigns between people who do not know each other, or those from different places, ethnicities, races, cultures, or religions. While Jesus sent out His disciples as “lambs in the midst of wolves,” He sent us with no paranoia about everyone’s being wolves. He wanted us to presume the best, that the person could receive peace. He wanted us to be instruments of peace, sowing it so as to reap it.

           But He wants us to be far more than “peace wishers.” He calls us to be “peacemakers” (Mt 5:9), saying that peacemakers will be called true children of God. God is a peacemaker and we are called to be chips off the old divine block. This is the fourth practice. What does it mean to make peace? Jesus describes various conditions. It means loving our enemies, praying for our persecutors, doing good to those who do evil. It means responding with the weapons of love, mercy and forgiveness rather than the sword. It means learning from and imitating Jesus, who established peace ultimately through dying for those who were waging war against Him, God and others through sin. To be a peacemaker, we must stop the downward spiral of vengeful retaliation. We must never forget the dignity of each person as loved by God, even when the other forgets. We must transcend selfishness, envy, pride, anger, and greed and work patiently to build a culture of encounter, solidarity and brotherhood, even when others resist. We must model ourselves on the Lord’s enduring mercy, seeking to reconcile as we have been reconciled seventy times seven times.

           This is obviously hard. Some would even say it is impossible for human beings. That brings us to the last practice: Cooperation with the Holy Spirit. On the night Jesus rose from the dead, He entered through the closed doors of the Upper Room and twice wished the frightened apostles “Shalom,” or “Peace be with you.” Then He sought to make them peacemakers. He breathed on them the Holy Spirit and said, “Just as the Father sent me, so I send you.” (Jn 20:19-23). Jesus was sending them out with God’s own power to create peace through forgiveness and reconciliation. Pope Francis said in a homily a few years ago that the peace Jesus leaves, gives, and breathes is fundamentally the Holy Spirit. When the Holy Spirit abides in us, He helps us to experience what St. Paul lists as the “fruit of the Spirit”: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Gal 5:22). That fruit is not merely subjective, suffusing us with those qualities. It impacts our relations with others and makes it possible for us to prioritize God, keep His commands, wish peace to all, and make peace perseveringly.

          In the midst of so much conflict, when the sword of division cuts deep into individuals, families, societies, and the world, Jesus’ perennial peace plan is needed now more than ever. Now is the time to follow Him on the path of peace He has revealed and to draw others with us onto that way. The peace of the Lord be with you always!

May 17, 2020

         Early in the book of Job, the blameless and upright man is besieged with a series of catastrophes: Sabeans steal his oxen and murder his herdsmen, lightening wipes out his sheep and shepherds, Chaldeans seize his camels and slay those tending them, winds collapse the house where his seven sons and three daughters are feasting and finally he himself is struck with severe boils from his feet to his head. The suffering compounded and came from all sides.

            Those who love God and the Church might be excused for feeling similarly overrun lately by news of rampant sexual infidelity among the clergy. Last year there was a summit at the Vatican on the sexual abuse of minors across the globe. Throughout the last several months, there has been growing attention to the sexual abuse of women, including religious women, by priests and bishops, which Pope Francis acknowledged in an airborne press conference returning from the United Arab Emirates. And there has been a feature story in the New York Times on sexually active gay priests and a salacious 576-page book released in 2019 entitled, In the Closet of the Vatican: Power, Homosexuality, Hypocrisy.

            Clerical sexual abuse of minors. Clerical sexual abuse of women. Clerical sexual abuse of men. The deluge of stories of sexual unchastity among clergy, including in the Vatican, might lead one who does not know many priests to question whether clergy cheating on their vocations and promises of chaste celibacy are the rule rather than an aberration. There is also a second level of corruption, which involves the failure of those in positions of authority to address and attempt to eradicate sexual infidelity when they become aware of it. Such failures have gotten much attention regarding the abuse of minors, with some now being held accountable. But it still has not been substantially addressed with regard to clergy who are unfaithful with women or men.

           The practical toleration in many places of clerical unchastity with adults has helped foment a culture of hypocrisy, secrecy, and cover-up that has enfeebled the Church’s response to the abuse of minors: when those in authority get accustomed to looking the other way with regard to sexual sins with adults, it facilitates similar omissions with respect to the molestation of minors. There is an important lesson here that this flood of stories is making increasingly clearer: We cannot eradicate the cancer of the clerical sexual abuse of minors while allowing the tumors of clerical infidelity with adults to grow unaddressed.

              If we are going to permit priests to abuse nuns, do we really think that we are going to stop their abusing innocent children? If in the Vatican, or in dioceses or religious orders, there is widespread, tolerated homosexuality activity, do we really anticipate that we are going to get true reform?

           There are three ways to respond to this problem. The first is to try to pretend that it does not exist. There are many who choose this path. Some do not want to know the extent of the degeneracy because when they turn over the rugs, they will have to face the reality of cleaning the dirt they discover. They do not think they have the strength nor the stomach for it. Others just do not want to admit to a culture of sin because they prefer to keep a culture of happy appearances in which sin and redemption are not urgently necessary. Others try to say a few prayers, passing the responsibility to God to fix the problem by miraculous means. These responses are all immature, unhelpful, and abet the problem.

             The second response is to try to baptize the sins. If there is a problem with priests’ living chastely, then the problem must be with chastity rather than with the priests. There are many who think this way. Chaste celibacy, some imply, makes moral monsters. The solution, therefore, to the same-sex molestation of teenage boys—which accounts for four of five abuse cases—is somehow to allow potential molesters to marry women. Others, like Frédéric Martel, author of In the Closet of the Vatican, or Andrew Sullivan, author of the New York Times feature, advocate to have same sex attracted priests leave the closet and not feel ashamed for acting on their attractions, Christian sexual ethics notwithstanding. Others recognize that the chaste celibacy of priests and religious is the last barricade against the triumph of the sexual revolution. If the Church admits defeat, and either overturns celibacy or acknowledges that chastity is impossible for even the so-called spiritual elite, then everyone who has violated Church teaching against the sixth commandment will somehow be exonerated and be able to share in the spoils. But none of this, of course, will solve the problem of sexual abuse. It will exacerbate it. The sexual revolution does not protect victims of abuse, but ultimately gives those who would be prone to take advantage of others for sexual gratification the green light.

               The third response is to acknowledge and attack the problem. This demands eliminating a culture of unchastity in the clergy by communicating quite clearly that sins against chastity will not be tolerated. This means reaffirming the basic standards of insisting clergy be faithful their promises, and if they refuse, or discover they cannot, to remove them from a situation in which they can take advantage of their office to engage in spiritually incestuous relations with the sheep and lambs Christ has entrusted to their care. But it also requires providing much greater continual formation in celibate chastity throughout the life of the priest. In general, good, solid formation is provided in most seminaries, but insofar as temptations do not stop at ordination, neither should formation. Much of the ongoing training in celibate chastity for priests is negative, focused on not violating boundaries, etc. It must be complemented by greater formation in the virtues of chaste celibacy, temperance, love, purity, and piety.

             Many of the falls would be eliminated if bishops and clergy directors held priests accountable for the ordinary means of priestly spiritual growth, like spiritual direction, regular confession, and retreats, where priests can develop an intimate and ever-deepening friendship with Christ and learn to imitate His philia (loving friendship), agape (sacrificial love) and chaste celibacy. The story of Job, as we know, ends well. For the Church’s reform to have a similar outcome, we must approach the problem with the same faith as Job and be aware of “friends” with false solutions.

May 10, 2020

           Because of the times we are living in, Pope Francis has spoken out repeatedly about the dangers of “gender ideology,” a modern form of gnosticism that not only undermines our basic understanding of anthropology but also of reality. He has made a distinction between the welcome, support, accompaniment, and loving pastoral care that we must offer to those who say they are transgender—whose sexual self-understanding does not align with their biological sex—and pretending and teaching others that there really are men trapped in women’s bodies and women in men’s. While we must affirm the dignity of those who believe themselves to be transgender and defend their fundamental human rights to be free of violence and unjust discrimination, he says, we must also be clear about the danger that the ideology of gender poses to individuals and to society.

           “We must protect our humanity,” Pope Francis stated in his exhortation on the family, “and this means, in the first place, accepting it and respecting it as it was created.” It is “one thing to be understanding of human weakness and the complexities of life and another to accept ideologies that attempt to sunder what are inseparable aspects of reality” (Amoris Laetitia 56). Our sex is a basic part of human nature, just like our genes, race, age, and species. It is an objective fact, not a subjective choice, mental state, or feeling. To deny that is to deny our humanity. Gender ideology, he said in a 2015 General Audience, is therefore a “step backwards. The removal of [sexual] difference in fact creates a problem, not a solution,” a problem not just for those with gender dysphoria but for everyone. And yet our culture is recklessly sprinting backwards.

          Last year, the Judiciary Committee of the House of Representatives gave first hearing to the Equality Act of 2019, which aims to amend the Civil Rights Act of 1964—which banned discrimination based on “race, color, religion, sex, or national origin”—by changing its definition of “sex” to include “sexual orientation” and “gender identity,” the latter defined as “gender-related identity, appearance, mannerisms, or characteristics, regardless of the individual’s designated sex at birth.” Similarly, during the United Nation’s Commission on the Status of Women in New York, there was a push by the LGBTI Core Group—representing 28 countries, the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights, and the NGOs Human Rights Watch and Outright Action International—to change the meaning of “woman” to include those who claim to be women, “no matter their sexual orientation, gender identity, gender expression and sex characteristics.”

          Whereas everyone once knew what “woman” meant based on her bodily nature—her two X chromosomes, capacity for motherhood, female hormones, internal reproductive organs, external genitalia, secondary sex characteristics—proponents of gender ideology are asserting that bodily nature has nothing intrinsically to do with womanhood beyond how sex is “assigned” at birth. Womanhood, rather, is the way one thinks about oneself, or expresses oneself, based on sexual stereotypes like the clothes and shoes one wears, the hobbies or sports one enjoys, the make-up one dons, etc. Manhood is similarly a state of mind rather than a biological and bodily reality. The person is reduced to spirit and will and the human being almost becomes a disincarnate abstraction until one discerns what nature and gender one is or wants to be.

           Gender ideology, however, does not stop at profound anthropological confusion. As we are witnessing in Washington, the UN, and various state and national capitals, those promoting it are trying to reorder society according to that confusion, with profound consequences not just in terms of law, education, economy, health, safety, sports, language, and culture, but also in terms of human rights, marriage and family, motherhood and fatherhood, and the cause of women, men, and especially children.

           Let’s focus on the harm to four groups. First, to women. Changing the definition of woman to include biological men who identify as women means, de facto, that what women have fought so hard to achieve over recent decades in terms of jobs, education, and sports—and what is necessary for their safety in terms of shelter, bathrooms, and locker rooms—will no longer be protected. Any biological man saying he is a woman would now be entitled to whatever a biological woman is. Employers who want to save on parental leave but still claim gender balance can employ biological men who believe they are women instead of biological women. Boys claiming to be girls—with their physical advantages in terms of muscle mass and type, bone density, heart, lungs and natural performance enhancing hormones—can compete against girls and take their championships (and no doubt soon scholarships), and in violent contact sports also put them at greater risk for serious injury. Women who have suffered violence from men will have to endure biological men entering battered women’s shelters, bathrooms and locker rooms, no matter the trauma to their sense of safety. And the opportunity for those who want to exploit such facile, subjective redefinitions of personal identity are already sadly in evidence: rapists who self-identify as women to enter women’s prisons to rape again; peeping toms or exhibitionists who identify as women or girls to enter women’s bathrooms and locker rooms at their will and pleasure; careerists who want to improve their chances for jobs identifying as women to take advantage of gender parity policies.

            Second, to children. Pope Francis is particularly concerned about gender ideology being taught to kids, so that boys and girls are encouraged to question, at their earliest ages, whether they are a boy or a girl and are taught, at a time when gender non-conformity is higher, that they can choose their gender. Rather than solid anthropology, indoctrinating them in categories like those found in the “gender unicorn” is a form of intellectual child abuse. Worse, however, is what is happening medically with children who experience gender dysphoria. Rather than treating the underlying issues of gender non-conformity, children are being encouraged to transition socially at a very young age and adopt opposite-sex name, habits and expressions. As pre-pubescents, they are then being given puberty blockers—which are not even FDA approved for this purpose—despite the fact that they arrest bone growth, decrease bone density, stop the formation of sex cells, and leave them physically behind their maturing peers. When they reach the general age of puberty, they’re being given cross sex hormones in very high doses, despite foreseeable side effects in terms of bone mineral density, lipid profile, cardiovascular problems and cancer. And finally, as early as 13 in some places, they are being helped to have sex reassignment surgery, surgically removing their external sex organs and replacing them with a simulation of opposite sex organs. All of this is happening despite the fact that longitudinal studies have shown that 85 percent of children with gender identity disorder do not persist in dysphoria in adolescence. Once, however, children begin the four-step pathway of social transition, puberty blockers, cross sex hormones, and reassignment surgery, it is rare that they revert. Parents who seek to prevent this pattern are treated as facilitators of their children’s future suicide, or uncaring bigots, and in some countries have even begun to lose their children.

               Third, to those with gender dysphoria. Studies in Sweden have shown, for example, that despite a culture strongly supportive of those who say they are transgender, the suicide rate 10-15 years after sex reassignment surgery is 19 times that of comparable peers, including groups who also experience some form of social stigma. How come? Because you cannot fool nature. All non-ideological, commonsensical thinkers recognize that there is something awry when someone thinks he is a man trapped in a woman’s body, or vice versa, in a similar way to those who think they are transspecies or transracial. Such dysphoria is not remedied by everyone else’s feigning the emperor is an empress. But there is a vast cultural conspiracy pretending that those with gender dysphoria are psychologically healthy and normal, and that their only issues concern integration within the larger culture. It is medical, psychological, cultural, and ethical malpractice of the highest measure.

              The last group is everyone in society, as gender ideology seeks to compel us to suppress our common sense and knowledge of elementary biology and play along with the fiction. All of us will have to change our pronouns, or pay fines, or lose jobs. Individuals and institutions that fail to abide by the zeitgeist will suffer severe consequences for civil rights violations. Medical professionals, despite their oath first to do no harm, will have to prescribe puberty blockers and opposite sex hormones and to perform surgeries. Women and girls will have to live with the new situation that treats trans-women and biological women as legally identical. Families that try to give their children adequate psychological care to treat underlying issues may be found guilty of civil rights abuses and lose their children. All of this will likely continue until children who have suffered all the consequences of puberty blockers, cross sex hormones and amputations as minors grow up and begin to sue the medical establishment for the irreversible damage done to them. These radical changes, however, are not inevitable. But if they are going to be halted, those who see clearly, truthfully and charitably need to act now to protect our humanity and defend and help those who are vulnerable.

May 3, 2020

          Last February, Pope Francis welcomed to the Vatican leaders of the Italian pro-life movement the day before Italy’s annual pro-life day, held since 1978 on the first Sunday of February. He spoke powerfully about how “the defense of life is not carried out in only one way, or with one gesture, but it’s done in a multiplicity of actions, attentions, and initiatives; nor does it concern some persons or certain professional realms, but it involves every citizen and the complex web of social relations.” Catholics in a particular way, he added, are called to “be leaven to spread a style and practices of reception and respect for life in the whole ‘dough’ of society, [which] must always be a jealous and firm custodian of life.”

            While stating that “to take care of life exacts doing so during the whole of life, and up to the end … [and giving] attention to the conditions of life: health, education, work opportunities, and so on,” he nevertheless underlined that “the defense of life has its fulcrum in the reception of the one generated and who is still protected in the maternal womb, enveloped in the mother’s womb as in one loving embrace that unites them.” Therefore, we cannot promote and protect life, he said, without first defending the life of the unborn. There’s no seamless garment if there is no child to be covered by that garment as the child grows from conception to natural death.

            Pope Francis continued, “To extinguish life voluntarily in its budding is … a betrayal of … the pact that binds the generations among themselves, a pact that enables us to look ahead with hope. If life itself, however, is violated in its beginning, what remains is no longer the grateful and amazed reception of the gift, but rather a cold calculation of how much we have and what we can get rid of. Then life is also reduced to a good of consumption, to be used for ourselves and for others or discarded. How tragic this vision is, unfortunately, widespread and rooted, and how much suffering it causes the weakest of our brothers and sisters!” He then turned to the political dimension of the pro-life movement. He thanked those present for their “attachment to the Catholic faith and to the Church, which renders you explicit and courageous witnesses of the Lord Jesus.” But he added, “At the same time, I appreciate the secular nature with which you present yourselves and operate, a secular nature founded on the truth of the good of life, which is a human and civil value and, as such, calls to be recognized by all persons of good will, of whatever religion or creed they belong.”

             Pro-life convictions, though strengthened by faith, are not in the least sectarian, he stressed. They flow also from reason about the nature of the child in the womb—at the same age and with the same humanity every one of us once was—and the basic principle of ethics that the intentional slaughter of innocent human beings is always wrong. Pope Francis added that the children whose lives are threatened by abortion are not the property of the mother, but are “are children of the whole society, and their killing at such an enormous rate, with the endorsement of the States, is a grave problem that undermines the foundations of justice and compromises the right solution to any other human and social question.” He finished by making a special appeal to those in public office, “so that, regardless of each one’s faith convictions, they will place as the cornerstone of the common good the defense of the life of those that are about to be born and make their entrance in society.” He prayed that they will not “let themselves be conditioned by a logic that looks only to personal success or immediate or partisan interests, but always looks beyond, and looks to all with the heart.”

              His reflections provide a Catholic lens with which to look at the very disturbing events that have occurred in New York and seem to be on the way in other states. On January 22, 2019, the 46th anniversary of Roe v. Wade, as faithful Catholics in the United States were observing a day of prayer and penance in reparation for the nearly 60,000,000 children who have legally been killed in the womb since that judicial travesty, Governor Andrew Cuomo of New York was holding a celebration in Albany. Cuomo, baptized Catholic soon after he left the womb in 1957 and recipient of sixteen years of Catholic education at St. Gerard Majella Elementary School and Archbishop Malloy High School in Queens and Fordham University in the Bronx, hosted a jovial ceremony at the State House in which he signed the Reproductive Health Act. His signature made abortion legal up to the moment of birth for any reason, eliminated the conscience rights of health care professionals not to participate in abortions, made it possible for abortions to be performed by those who are not doctors, and permitted that babies who survive abortion and are born alive to be left to die without any medical assistance.

             Cuomo ebulliently began the signing ceremony observing, “It is a good evening this evening! Congratulations! Congratulations! Congratulations!” He gave shout outs to the legislators who supported the Act and a special welcome to Sarah Weddington, the lawyer who argued Roe v. Wade before the Supreme Court. He dubbed the night “bittersweet,” sweet “because we won … after a long, long, long fight” to “ensure a woman’s right to … access an abortion,” and bitter for two reasons: because “we shouldn’t be here” trying to defend abortion against pro-lifers who are trying to take society back fifty years to before Roe; and because, as he said he told his daughter—whom he thankfully chose not to abort—the Reproductive Health Act should have gone into law eight years ago. But Cuomo was not done celebrating. He signed an executive order requiring that the One World Trade Center’s 408 foot spire, the bridge named after his father Mario (the former Tappan Zee spanning the Hudson), the Kosciuszko Bridge between Brooklyn and Queens and the Alfred Smith State Office Building in Albany be lit in pink that night. Cuomo turned a monument rising up from the ashes of the deaths of 2,831 at the World Trade Center—including 11 children who were victims of the terrorists while still in their mother’s wombs—into a festive symbol for a practice that since Roe has taken the lives of an average of 3,574 innocent children a day in their mother’s wombs. And he said he believes that “we have to go even a step further and do a constitutional amendment so no governor, no legislator, no political swing, can ever jeopardize a woman’s right to control her own body in this state.”

             This is something quite far from what Pope Francis was saying those in public office should do: placing the defense of life of those about to be born at the cornerstone of the common good. This is essentially putting the destruction of life of those about to enter society as the foundation of one’s political platform. Cuomo likes to quote Pope Francis when it serves his purposes, especially when he thinks he is joining Pope Francis in criticizing the Church and her leaders for opposing Cuomo’s own priorities. But in this case, we cannot but help quote Pope Francis, who very bluntly likened abortion to “hiring a contract killer” to “take out a human life to solve a problem.” In this papal simile, Cuomo is a don in such a mafia culture.

             The logic of abortion is that those who are bigger, stronger, older, more politically connected should have the right to end the life of those who are smaller, more vulnerable, younger and without a voice. When we accept that, then why not infanticide for unwanted children? Why not let the “hired killers” have a bigger and easier target? To oppose infanticide, however, should logically require opposing abortion. Pretending that abortion is the equivalent of sloughing off a wart or ending the life of some insignificant non-human species, is no longer possible. Abortion is plainly about the willful killing of another human being.

                Some, like Cuomo, think that such intentional killing of little children is something to be proud of, that the whole world should be lit in pink while the crimson blood of babies stains latex gloves and forceps. No longer is there the political need, they think, to say that abortion should be “safe, legal and rare.” Now it should be celebrated as a great human rights advance and women should unabashedly brag about their abortions. The more, the merrier. What should happen to them? Many are calling for Cuomo and the other Catholics who supported the Reproductive Health Act to be excommunicated. Even if the bishops with the responsibility to make that call do so, however, it would not be enough. What is really needed is for voters politically to excommunicate them from public office.

          The question is: What is it going to take for voters, especially Catholic voters, to conclude that those who celebrate the destruction of human life in the womb as if it is the Fourth of July, who desecrate monuments and landmarks to gloat about it, who think that babies who survive abortions should be allowed to die without medical assistance, do not represent their values? And when will they resolve to do something about it?

April 26, 2020

           The first time a believer receives the flesh and blood of the eternal Son of God in Holy Communion ought to be one of the greatest occasions in that person's life. The amount of preparation, waiting, and longing that normally accompanies one's first Communion only makes the reception even more special. But what makes one's first Communion a truly blessed event is not the adjective but the substantive: not the "first" but the "communion." Because of Whom we receive, our second, third, next, and last Communion should always be as special.

          The Church teaches that the communion we enter into with the Lord Jesus is not meant to last only as long as it takes our body to digest the sacred host; rather, our communion is supposed to continue in all our actions throughout the day. In short, the reception of the Lord Jesus in the Eucharist is meant to lead to a truly Eucharistic Life, one in which Jesus in the Eucharist becomes the source, summit, root and center of a person's existence. This reality, which the Church puts before all believers, is modeled in a particular way for young first Communicants by some great young saints in Church history. Today we briefly look at four of them and propose them as exemplars to our children preparing to receive Him for the first-time very soon.

Blessed Imelda Lambertini (1322-1333)

           There's a prayer that has been made popular among Catholics in which they ask the Lord for the grace to receive Him in Holy Communion that day with the same love with which they received Him in their first Communion, with the same love with which they hope to receive Him at their last communion, and with which they would want to receive Him if that were the only communion of their life. The three parts of this beautiful prayer all came together on May 12, 1333, for an 11-year-old girl in Bologna, Italy called Imelda Lambertini.

            When Imelda turned nine, she begged her parents to allow her to go to the school at the Dominican convent in her city. She fervently desired to be able to receive Jesus in Holy Communion like the sisters and several of the older students, but this was six centuries prior to St. Pius X's lowering the first Communion age to the "age of reason," or about the age of 8. Prior to that 20th century change, many young people received the Lord for the first time during their teenage years. In place of being able to receive Jesus in Holy Communion, Imelda used to go to the chapel to adore Him. She used to pepper the Sisters with the question, "Tell me, can anyone receive Jesus in his heart and not die?" That question would turn prophetic.

            On the vigil of the Ascension, she was praying in Church after Mass. The sisters were preparing to leave the church when some of them were startled to see a strange light, what appeared to be a small sacred host, hovering in the air above her head as she was kneeling before the tabernacle. They ran to get the parish priest. Knowing of her burning desire to receive Holy Communion and taking this theophany as a sign from heaven that she was ready, the priest gave her Jesus in Holy Communion. To her enormous joy, she devoutly received her long-awaited for the first time. And the last and only time.

           Soon after receiving Holy Communion she fell first into what seemed like an ecstasy of love. She had a most serene and angelic smile on her face. While all the sisters were praying with her in thanksgiving, they watched her slowly sink to the floor. They thought that she had simply fainted and felt her arm. But she had died out of love for Christ in the Eucharist, with her face transfixed by a smile that has never worn off. With the Lord within the temple of her body, her soul ascended out of her body with the Lord into heaven. Her body remains incorrupt seven centuries later and lies in a Church in Bologna. In 1826, Pope Leo XII declared her blessed and proclaimed her to be the patroness of first communicants.

St Gemma Galgani (1878-1903)

          Gemma was born in Camigliano, Italy in 1878, the fourth of eight children. Her mother used to take her as a young girl to daily Mass and passed on to her a great love for Jesus in Holy Communion. Around the time of her mother's death when she was seven, Gemma began to have intense experiences of prayer. Her father sent her to be educated at the convent of the Sisters of St. Zita in Lucca. Under the guidance of the sisters she developed a deep love for the passion of the Lord, for the Blessed Virgin Mary, and for Jesus in the Holy Eucharist.

          On the Feast of the Sacred Heart in 1887, when she was nine, she received the Love of her life within for the first time. She said innocently to one of her friends afterward, "I feel a fire burning here," and pointed to her breast. "Do you feel like that, too?" She couldn't fathom that there was anything exceptional in her own experience.

          Her love for Jesus in the Eucharist only grew the more she received the Lord as if it were the last time. She would write later to Jesus in prayer, "What would become of me if I did not dedicate all my affections to the Sacred Host? Oh yes, I know it, Lord; that in order to make me deserve paradise in heaven, you give me Communion here on earth!" She would call the Eucharist "the school of paradise where one learns how to love."

          In a passage that would be good for all communicants—first and veteran—to contemplate, she wrote to her priest spiritual director. "Oh, what precious moments are those at Holy Communion! Communion is a happiness, Father, that seems to me cannot be equaled even by the beatitude of the saints and angels. They admire the face of Jesus, and are certain of not committing sin or of being lost; and I admire those two things, and I should like to be of their company, but I, too, have reason for exulting, for Jesus enters everyday into my heart. Jesus gives me all of Himself!"

This Year's First Communicants

          These child Eucharistic saints are just some of the many who have been led through communion with the Lord on the altar here on earth to an eternal communion with Him around the celestial throne. Together let us pray that the children making their first Holy Communion very soon may imitate their love for Jesus in the Eucharist, follow their example in living Eucharistic lives, and be spurred on to become, themselves, Eucharistic saints for children of future generations.

April 19, 2020

            Catholics can easily recall when Jesus instituted the Sacrament of the Eucharist. He did it during the first Mass, which began during the Last Supper with the words of consecration and finished the following afternoon when Jesus literally gave His body and shed His blood for us on the Cross. However, far fewer Catholics know when Jesus instituted the Sacrament of Reconciliation, which may be one of the reasons many today take it for granted. He did it on the day He rose from the dead! The timing of its inception shows just how crucial Jesus considered it in His salvific mission.

            By instituting it on Easter Sunday evening, He also manifested what the sacrament of reconciliation is meant to bring about. Just like in the parable of the prodigal son, whenever we return to the Father’s house through this sacrament, the Father rejoices because His “son who was dead has come to life again” (Lk 15:24). Jesus wanted explicitly to link our resurrection through this Sacrament to His resurrection from the dead. Therefore, on the day He rose from the dead, He walked through the closed doors of the room where ten of His apostles were huddled together. His first words to them were “peace be with you.” He had come from heaven to establish the definitive peace treaty between God and man through the forgiveness of our sins and He was about to commission them to continue this very mission.

           “Just as the Father sent me,” He said, “so I send you!” But since “no one can forgive sins but God alone” (Mk 2:7), Jesus had to give them God’s power to fulfill this mission. So, He breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” Then He said words that point clearly to the structure of the sacrament of confession as we know it: “Those whose sins you forgive, they are forgiven; those whose sins you retain, they are retained.” Jesus did not give them the ability to read minds or hearts; therefore, the only way that they would know which sins to forgive or retain is if individual sinners told them their sins.

            Just as Jesus, three days beforehand, had made them His instruments in order to give us His body and blood through the sacrament of the Eucharist, so He was making them His instruments, His ambassadors, through whom He would forgive our sin. These two sacraments of Reconciliation and the Eucharist are intrinsically related. Just like a loving mother both cleans and feeds a child, so God through these sacraments both wipes us clean of our sins and fills us with supernatural nourishment.

           Pope St. John Paul II had called all of us in the Church to renewal in two areas: a revival in all parishes of the celebration of Sunday Mass and an increase in Eucharistic adoration. He wanted us to receive Christ more worthily and worship our Eucharistic Lord with greater love and gratitude. The whole Church would benefit from a similar two-fold renewal with respect to the Sacrament of Reconciliation. There needs to a revival both in terms of our receiving Christ’s forgiveness through the sacrament and an increase in worship of our Merciful Lord. This Sunday’s Feast of Divine Mercy is an opportunity for us to focus on each of these two priorities.

            In 2000, Pope St. John Paul II instituted this feast on the Second Sunday of Easter so that the Church might rejoice over Christ’s gift of mercy within the Easter Octave. The Pope announced this new feast during the canonization of St. Faustina Kowalska, a Polish nun to whom the Lord appeared in the 1930s asking her to spread throughout the world devotion to His merciful love. Private revelations like the one to St. Faustina never disclose to us anything truly new; their purpose is to remind us of what God has revealed in Scripture and Tradition and apply those truths to particular circumstances we face.

           As Jesus instructed Faustina: "My daughter, faithfully live up to the words which I speak to you. Do not value any external thing too highly, even if it were to seem very precious to you. Let go of yourself and abide with Me continually. Entrust everything to Me and do nothing on your own, and you will always have great freedom of spirit. No circumstances or events will ever be able to upset you. Set little store on what people say. Let everyone judge you as they like. Do not make excuses for yourself, it will do you no harm. Give away everything at the first sign of a demand, even if they were the most necessary things. Do not ask for anything without consulting Me. Allow them to take away even what is due you – respect, your good name – let your spirit rise above all that. And so, set free from everything, rest close to My Heart, not allowing your peace to be disturbed by anything. My pupil, consider the words which I have spoken to you" (Diary, 1685).

           In His appearances to Faustina, Jesus wanted to remind all of us of what He said throughout the Gospel: that we need His mercy, that we have to trust in, ask for, and receive that mercy, and that we need to share that mercy with others. And through her, He called us to live five new devotions by which we could more deeply assimilate all these realities.

           Jesus asked that a feast of His Divine Mercy be established on the Second Sunday of Easter, prepared for by a novena beginning Good Friday. He showed her an image of Divine Mercy, with blood and water flowing from His pierced side, and asked her to spread its veneration. He called on all of us to unite ourselves in prayer to Him on the Cross at 3 pm each day. And He taught us to pray the beautiful Chaplet of Divine Mercy, which explicitly links our prayers for God’s mercy to Jesus in the Eucharist.

          As we continue to celebrate Easter, we turn with trust to Jesus and ask Him to help us experience the true joy of His resurrection through each of these devotions and especially through the resurrection from death to life He wants to give us in a confessional nearby.

April 12, 2020

           Today we mark, with Christians throughout the world, the greatest day and the most important event in all of history. Today, the Son of God made man, who loved us enough to become one of us, and who loved us even more to give His life for us, rose from the dead, defeating death once and for all. Today, all Christians can jubilantly shout with St. Paul, “O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” (1 Cor 15:55). Because of this day, evil does not have the last word. Because of this day, death is not a period, but a comma in a book without a final chapter. Because of this day, dying is just a change of address, in which those who are and live as God’s children move to an eternal mansion full of love.

          But the significance of this day of days is not merely supposed to be future, in terms of what it means for life after our death—as if we were just dealing with an eternal retirement plan. It is also not merely supposed to be the past, looking back to what happened to Christ nearly two thousand years ago. The most important thing for us is to consider what it means for our PRESENT, for you and me, today. The celebration of Easter today is supposed to have the same dramatic impact on us as it did on Jesus’ first disciples because the Jesus who arose that day is still ALIVE and He wants to fill us with the same life-giving joy that He gave to His beloved disciples 20 centuries ago.

          To capture the transformation the Risen Jesus wants to work in us, it would be good, briefly, to reflect on what it was like for Mary Magdalene, Peter, John, and the rest of His disciples on the day of the Resurrection. To call them dejected, lost, and profoundly saddened only begins to describe what they were going through. Their whole universe had been turned upside down. Not only had they witnessed Jesus, their friend, brutally tortured and massacred, nailed naked to a cross as a common criminal, but they also had believed deeply that He was the long-awaited Messiah, that He was God. Therefore, not only were they mourning the death of a loved one—which is already hard enough, as any of us who have lost a loved one recognize—but they were also trying to come to grips with whether God indeed had died or whether their friend, in whom they trusted, was, despite all His gifts, ultimately an imposter. Despite the fact that Jesus had told them on three occasions that He “must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again” (Mk 8:31; 9:31; 10:34), the words had not penetrated their hearts. When His critics had asked Him for a sign, He told them that “no sign would be given it except the sign of Jonah” (Mt 16:4), meaning that He would spend three days in the belly of the earth just as Jonah had spent three days in the belly of the whale. But that did not register. Even when Jesus identified Himself as the “Resurrection and the Life” (Jn 11:25), they did not capture what those words meant: in order for Him to be “resurrection personified,” He needed to rise again, which means that He first needed to die.

          When Mary Magdalene, Salome, and Mary, the mother of James, went to the tomb on Sunday morning, they were going reverently to anoint Jesus’ corpse. Little did they realize what a great transformation had already occurred and what a great personal transformation awaited them. The stone had already been rolled away. The tomb was empty. A dazzling angel told them that Jesus had been raised. Jesus appeared to Mary Magdalene in the Garden and filled her with exhilaration when He pronounced her name! He appeared to the ten in the Upper Room, filled them with His joy and peace, and gave them His own mission—“Just as the Father sent me, so I send you,” bestowing on them the Holy Spirit so that they could forgive sins in God’s name. He appeared to the disciples on the Road to Emmaus and made their hearts burn as He described how the Son of Man had to suffer, and then revealed Himself to them in the “breaking of the bread.” THEIR WHOLE UNIVERSE, which had been turned upside down two days before, was now turned RIGHT-SIDE UP AGAIN. And what incredible joy must have raced through all the cells of their body, the type of joy to which words cannot even do justice! Everything for them would have forever changed. The resurrection was the answer to all their questions, the resolution to all their doubts, the definitive peace to all their angst, the joy to all their sadness, God’s ultimate response to the mystery of all suffering and death. Life in general—and their life in particular—not only was no longer a tragedy; their life now had immeasurable meaning. They were the disciples and intimate friends of the one who had conquered even sin and death—and they were now empowered and emboldened by Him to take that greatest news ever told to the ends of the earth. No amount of disdain, threats, persecutions, torture, or even death could dissuade them, because the resurrection taught them, unmistakably and unforgettably, that God is in charge and makes good on all His promises.

         Jesus wants to bring about the same type of revolution in us today. He wants to give us the same joy He gave His first disciples because He loves us no less than He loved them. The only thing that will stop Him from doing so is if we do not let Him do what He wants to do. He who is the “Resurrection and the Life” wants us to experience in the present the full meaning of that resurrection and that life, but for that to happen, we have to recognize and structure our lives in correspondence to the fact that Jesus truly is ALIVE. Almost every Christian knows that Jesus is alive theoretically, but many Christians do not behave as if Jesus is alive practically. We can treat Jesus like a distant relative, someone whom we respect and care for, but whom for the most part in our day-to-day lives we ignore. Or we can treat Him like our best high school teacher, who has obviously had an impact in making us the people we are today, but who is no longer practically involved in continuing to guide our decision making. Or we can treat Jesus like a good doctor, to whom we go when we have problems, but, outside of those times, with whom we really have no relationship at all.

          The point I am trying to make by analogy is this: Few Christians treat the Risen Jesus as if He is DEAD, but many Christians treat Jesus as if He is BARELY ALIVE. Today, on this Easter, Jesus wants to change that. He came, as He Himself said, “so that [we] might have life and have it to the full” (Jn 10:10), but for us to come fully alive, we need first to allow Jesus to become fully alive in us. We need to rise with Him and live a resurrected life with him! We need to stop treating Him as a concept, or as someone we turn to at our whim and convenience—or only at times of great inconvenience—but rather base our whole lives on Him. For the first disciples, the joy of that first Easter did not end the day after Easter, because they knew that Jesus, risen from the dead, would be with them “until the end of time” (Mt 28:20). They structured their whole lives on a deep personal relationship with the Risen Jesus, grounding all the aspects of their lives on the basis of this living communion of love. We are called to do the same! Christ has truly risen! And this changes everything! Alleluia!

August 23, 2020

           The typical Polish Happy Birthday song is “Sto Lat,” which translates into English as “100 years, 100 years, may he/she live, live for us 100 years.” It is a prayerful wish that the one being celebrated will have a long, healthy life. It was intoned by Polish pilgrims regularly when they were with St. John Paul II in the Vatican, especially but not exclusively around his birthday. On May 18^th, all of those well-wishes chanted over the decades for him came true, as we marked the centenary of St. John Paul II’s birth.

            The baby born Karol Wojtyla now experiences, as his canonization affirms, a life far greater than the extension of days on earth, dwelling in a house not made by human hands, prepared for him by the One whom he served as earthly vicar (2 Cor 5:1, Jn 14:3). While we are not privy to how such events are observed where even “a thousand years are like a day” (2 Pet 3:8), it is fitting here on earth to mark this time with gratitude to God, reflection on the meaning of John Paul II’s life and our own, and prayers through his intercession.

             Saints are gifts of God to the people of each age. They show us how to live. They teach us how to love. They help us learn to die. They reveal to us our exalted origin, dignity, and destiny. They make the life of faith attractive and Christian hope realistic. They are not just exemplars of heroic virtue but mediators, praying for us that we might follow their footsteps as they followed Christ’s. While saints are always consequential figures in the real, real world, even if hidden to most human eyes, John Paul II’s life has had an enormous impact on what also makes history books, most notably the role he played in the fall of Soviet communism. His impact within the Church, in implementing the teachings and authentic spirit of the Second Vatican Council, and leading the Church through various ideological storms that were buffeting the Church from within and without, was perhaps even greater. In honor of his ten decades, I would like to focus on ten distinctive marks of his papacy that have deeply impacted the life of the Church and her engagement with the world.

            He was the Pope of the universal call to holiness, re-proposing to all the high standard of ordinary Christian living. During his 26 years and 7 months as successor of St. Peter, he canonized from all walks of life 482 saints and beatified 1,327, more than all his predecessors from the previous five centuries combined.

           He was the Pope of theological anthropology. He took the Second Vatican Council’s teachings that Christ reveals the meaning and supreme vocation of human life and that we will only discover who we are through the unselfish gift of ourselves toward others (Gaudium et Spes, 22, 24) and spent his papacy elaborating that connection. His first encyclical, Christ the Redeemer of Man, laid out the leitmotif of his papacy, describing, in response to the reductive understandings of the human person that have led to so much confusion and destruction—communism, individualism, subjectivism, materialism, empiricism, relativism, racism, chauvinism and other “isms”—the full understanding of the person revealed and redeemed by Christ, body and soul, male and female. He chartered the path of Christian humanism.

           He was the Pope of courage. His repeated echo of Jesus’ “Be not afraid!” in his inaugural Mass homily characterized the whole of his life and papacy. He boldly helped establish and act in the Rhapsodic Theater as a young man under Nazi occupation. As a priest and bishop, he helped the Polish people remain intrepid during Soviet oppression. As Pope, he was constantly urging people to “put out into the deep,” and led by example, in boldly and prudently opposing dictators and evil.

           He was the Pope of human love in the divine plan. As a young priest, he said, he “fell in love with human love” and spent the rest of his priesthood trying to “introduce love into love,” namely Christ’s agape into the experience of human eros. Whereas many priests and bishops still today are afraid to talk about love, marriage, sex, and family, he did so with great confidence, appeal, and effectiveness. He gave university lectures, wrote his landmark Love and Responsibility, authored plays, poems, and articles on the dynamics of betrothed love, established interdisciplinary diocesan commissions on marriage, wrote and delivered his catecheses on the theology of the body, published a tremendous exhortation on the Christian family in the modern world (Familiaris Consortio) in 1981 and the Letter to Families, met with newlyweds after every general audience, and established at the Lateran University the John Paul II Institute for the Study of Marriage and Family.

           He was a Marian Pope. His papal motto, Totus Tuus, was taken from St. Louis de Montfort’s prayer of total consecration to Mary and he consecrated the world to her immaculate heart on March 25, 1984. He gave her credit for saving his life with her maternal hand after his assassination attempt on her feast day, presenting the bullet that pierced five vital organs to her in Fatima one year later. He proclaimed a Marian year and wrote Mother of the Redeemer, fulfilling the Second Vatican Council’s call for a more Scripture-based Mariology. He prayed the Rosary continuously between appointments, gave us the Luminous Mysteries, declared a Year of the Rosary, and taught us how to pray the Rosary better in his exhortation The Rosary of the Virgin Mary. He put the first Marian image, Mother of the Church, in St. Peter’s Square.

           He was the Pope of youth, founding the World Youth Days in 1985, meeting with young people on every foreign trip and responding to their questions, hosting regular audiences with young people in the Vatican, writing a profound letter to the young people of the world in 1985, and regularly speaking to bishops and priests about how to be more effective youth ministers, through identifying and appealing to what is perennial rather than faddish in young people.

              He was the Pope of life, battling the culture of death and helping the Church not be ashamed to proclaim and live her teachings on the sanctity of every human life at a time in which elites were promoting abortion as a paragon of freedom, and communist countries as a means of population control. His 1995 encyclical The Gospel of Life remains the greatest pro-life manifesto of all time.

            He was the Pope of evangelization. He made 104 foreign trips, logging 700,000 miles, more than all of his predecessors combined and three times the distance of a round trip to the moon. He felt a divine vocation, he said, to be a “pilgrim pope of evangelization,” doing “traveling catechesis,” hoping to stir up the enter Church to take up the “new evangelization,” a phrase he himself coined.

             He was the Pope of holy years. The Polish bishops in 1966 had a jubilee to celebrate the 1000^thanniversary of the arrival of Christianity in their country and he saw how such jubilees could renew the Church. As Pope, he had special jubilees to focus on the 1950^thanniversary of our Redemption (1983), Mary (1987), The Holy Spirit (1998), God the Father (1999), Christ the Redeemer (2000), the Rosary (2003-4), and the Eucharist (2004-5). The Church has continued these helpful thematic years since, with the Year of St. Paul (2008-9), Priests (2009-10), Faith (2012-13), and Mercy (2015-6).

             He was the Pope of suffering. He endured Mehmet Ali Agca’s assassination attempt in 1981, bone breaks, and several years on public display with Parkinson’s disease, becoming one of the modern world’s most well-known images of perseverance in a euthanizing age. His 1984 exhortation on the Christian meaning of human suffering (Salvifici Doloris), in which he said God permits suffering to “unleash love in the human person,” remains the greatest theological window into the mystery of suffering ever produced.

              As we continue to mark the hundredth anniversary of St. John Paul II’s birth, we thank God for all the blessings He gave him and, through him, all of us. We pray through his intercession that we may build on those foundations—and with him live 100 years and more.