Jesus breaks for us – John 20:19-31, Acts 2:42-47

Sunday within the octave of Easter; Holy Cross Parish.  Homily preached at my first Mass presiding as a priest.

One of the most exciting things to happen in our parish while I’ve been here is our dream sessions.  I was encouraged and moved by the number of parishioners that gathered together to help us articulate what our dream is for this parish.  I wonder what might have happened if St. Luke had wandered in to one of those meetings?  Would he have read out the selection from Acts that Tim proclaimed?  Because here we have a description of an idyllic church, right after Pentecost has sprung itself on the small band of nascent Christ-followers.  This is an image of Church that draws on all kinds of dreams Luke’s contemporaries in different philosophical circles had expressed for the ideal society, and he paints a picture of this community restored by Christ through the Spirit and says: here it is, it’s possible and Christ did it.  Strife, dissension, marginalization and persecution would all come, and he won’t whitewash those away, but for a brilliant brief while Christ made us truly live as Church.

Guest post: Getting ready for ordination

I have a guest post over at the Holy Cross Vocations blog.

Basic guide to an ordination ceremony

I wrote this up for my family, and thought it might be worth sharing here.

Purpose:  For Pat and I to be made into priests by the bishop. 

Main Players:  Bishop Kevin Rhoades will preside and preach.  He is the bishop of Fort Wayne – South Bend (the diocese in which Notre Dame and South Bend are located).    Seminarians will serve.

One Key Moment:  The bishop laying his hands on mine and Pat’s heads.  This, together with a prayer he says after the priests repeat his gesture, is the moment we become priests.  We read about this rite in the part of the Bible about the first generation of the Church after Jesus’ time on earth (book of Acts).

Formality: Think wedding.

God shakes our world – Matt 28:1-10, Col 3:1-4

Easter Sunday, St. Stanislaus.  (Using the Gospel from the Vigil).

I used to live in California, and there was a Bible study I’d go to in the rectory of a nearby church.  One day, we were discussing some passage and I was explaining how some aspect of it struck me, when suddenly everything jolted.  My first, unthinking instinctive reaction was: “someone’s done an emergency stop.”  Then, I remembered we weren’t in a car… we were in a rectory, and rectories don’t do emergency stops.  It was an earthquake.  Not one that caused any real damage, but enough to jolt us, to spill people’s drinks, to make me joke that maybe God didn’t like that interpretation I’d just offered.  Enough to remind me that the earth we instinctively think of as solid and ultimately dependable is neither of those things.

Bulletin Column: Triduum

Holy Week Bulletin Column at Holy Cross - St. Stan's.

Dear friends,

Lent is almost over!  The next time we gather as Church for Sunday worship, it will be for the great feast of Easter.  But, between now and then, there’s a lot to happen.  On Monday evening, many of us will gather at St. Matthew’s Cathedral (at 7:30pm) for the Chrism Mass, where Bishop Rhoades will bless new oils for us to use throughout the year.  Through those oils, God’s healing action will be made present through sacramental anointing with the oil of the sick; God’s welcome of children and adults wanting to receive His baptismal embrace will be extended through use of the oil of catechumens; and the sacred chrism will commission the newly baptized to serve God as priest, prophet and king, will strengthen the gift of the Spirit in those being confirmed, and will anoint the hands of new priests for service.  This is a moving service to which all are welcomed, but is especially intended for priests to renew their closeness with their bishop before celebrating the Sacred Triduum.

Jesus commands life – Jn 11:1-45

5th Sunday of Lent, Holy Cross - St. Stanislaus.

What’s behind your stone?  What’s in your cave, shut up behind a stone?  What are you afraid to smell?  What can you think of… something you wouldn’t want to tell the whole congregation?  What is there that you don’t want to carry, because you know how terribly it would weigh you down?  Dead weight… weigh that leads the death.  Roll the stone over it, try to forget.  Because most of us have something that threatens to weigh us down.  A memory, a fear, an injustice suffered or inflicted, an incompetence or a deception.  Something which threatens to reek of the absence of God.  But to try to live our lives with part of us siloed off and shut up behind a rock is not to live, it’s to tacitly consent to a slow-fade to death.  And Jesus commands Life.