Laura Stierman - SEAS Director of Evangelization

There’s a foreign film that I rarely watch because of its violent and dark nature. Titled “Pan’s Labyrinth,” the majority of the film is color-bathed in dreariness, immersed in cruelty, and resplendent with violence. I’m compelled to look away from the screen and cover my ears many, many times. And yet. I’m thinking about that film this week, as we’ve left the beauty of autumn and stepped into a temporary starkness of the natural world. It’s awash in the grey-scale colors of politics and war too. Sigh. But the warmth, joy, and brightness of Advent and Christmas are just around the corner, we only need to wait out the season! You see, although the vast majority of “Pan’s Labyrinth” depicts the bleakness of war and human depravity, it suddenly ends with a stunning barrage of kaleidoscope color in stained glass and glory as the young heroine suffers a sacrificial death… then enters the regal courtyard of the-world-beyond. She stands before the radiant thrones of the King and Queen, reclaiming her long-forgotten identity as daughter of the King. I cry at this scene every single time. Partly because there is such astounding light and Love reflected in the cinematography after 90 minutes of sheer darkness. But more importantly, it’s because I’ve also forgotten this fact: I am the daughter of the King of the Universe, the One who knew me before I was born. The One who gave me life and purpose. The One who loves beyond all telling. I. Am. His. Beloved. Daughter. What awaits us after our long dark-and-dreary season on earth is brighter and more beautiful than words can describe. As we close out the liturgical year it is good to pause for a moment to reflect on our true identity. We are not merely sojourners in this battle-colored world, we are beloved sons and daughters of the King of the Universe. So despite the ugliness of this present time, our role is to advance the mission of the King by bringing Goodness, Truth, and Beauty to a dark world in desperate need. #rememberyourmission

When Jesus says, “Zacchaeus, come down quickly, for today I must stay at your house,” Zacchaeus jumps down out of the tree and receives Jesus with great joy. And off the two of them go, heads and hearts together in conversation for conversion, naysayers and grumblers notwithstanding. Notice that Jesus doesn’t take Zacchaeus to the synagogue. Jesus wants to be in Zacchaeus’ home, an intimate space where talk flows naturally over bread and wine. Jesus wants our hearts, souls, and minds, and not just on Sunday mornings. He wants to be in our homes and a part of our daily lives too, not just someOne we turn to when we need a little advice or a solution to a problem. As Jesus entered Zacchaeus’ home, do you think Jesus knew that Zacchaeus was a Jewish man? Did he have a mezuzah on his doorpost as a symbol to all those who enter that a Jewish faith resides within, and that his home was a holy place where all should act accordingly in all the comings-and-goings-on? Was his menorah strategically placed, so he and his visitors would remember that God can do miracles in their lives? And his candlesticks for shabbat, were they worn down from weekly Friday prayer? So… what does the inside of your home look like? We say that the home is the “domestic church.” If Jesus met you along Vermillion Street and said, “Today I must stay at your house,” would He see evidence of your Catholic faith as he crossed the doorstep? What about our spiritual home here at St. Elizabeth’s? The Benedictine tradition is to serve Jesus and honor God in your neighbor during the week and to worship the Lord on Sunday; we sometimes lose sight of the latter while adhering to the former. Where are our faith visuals? Can you point to our ancestors, the Apostles, who have gone before us? Does the Mother of God have prominence? Does our space reflect the holiness and heavenly-ness of the spiritual realm? Does it remind us that the Mass is where heaven-meets-earth? Does Divine Beauty have a home here? #ponderingsacredspaces

In all these things that swirl together into my-life-at-the-moment, there’s a small still voice that whispers, “Are you doing God’s will?” I wonder if Moses, Joshua, Aaron, and Hur question if they are doing God’s will. Amalek has come prepared for battle against the Israelites and, frankly, the war is touch-and-go. As long as Moses’ hands are raised in a your-will-be-done position of thanksgiving and glory, all goes well. But when he wearies of the task and lowers his arms… not so much. Did they ever think, amid the chaotic tug-of-war, “Is winning this battle God’s will for us?”

Then we have St. Paul writing to his new pastor Timothy. Did you catch the [realities] underneath all of his lovely advice? “Remain faithful” [you’ll be persecuted], “Scripture is useful for teaching, for refutation, for correction, and for training” [your people will need correcting], “be persistent whether convenient or inconvenient” [your people won’t pay attention], and “convince, reprimand, encourage through all patience and teaching” [it’s a long haul]. Will Timothy wonder in those moments of pastoral frustration, “Is this profession God’s will for me?” Even our persistent widow, who is turned down again-and-again-and-again by the judge, do you think she ever asked herself, “Is this judgement God’s will for me?”

In all of the above, the answer is a resounding YES. Just because it’s difficult, inconvenient, weary-ing, or downright life-altering, doesn’t mean it’s not God’s will or that you are on the wrong path. Sometimes there are setbacks, tensions, and wrong turns on God’s meandering pathway toward the creation of heaven-on-earth.

We’ve been traveling on a spiritual journey of forming joyful disciples who make Jesus Christ known and loved and envisioning a vibrant community where we radiate Christ’s hope and love to all we encounter, inside and outside of our sacred space here at St. Elizabeth’s. Like Moses, we might grow weary. Like Timothy, we might need a few refutations and corrections to make in our spiritual practice and theological thought. Like the widow, we might require a supernatural dose of perseverance. Let’s embrace the difficulties. Honor the chaos. Champion the change. #letgoandletGod

I’m not a huge fan of driving. Don’t get me wrong, I love fast cars, especially the European models, and in particular the Aston Martin DB9 Bond version. As a personal practice however, I prefer to walk over drive, even to the grocers. A few weeks back my Aldi store closed for renovation, and I am now forced to walk a wee bit further along a fairly busy and visible major road for my quick grocery run. With the drop in temps, there is now layering to consider. This past weekend, as I’m looking at my hoodie sweatshirt options, my thoughts went something like this: “‘UMary’? Too light. ‘Yellowstone’? Too heavy. ‘The Chosen’? Wrong colors. ‘St. Benedict image’? Too Catholic. Someone might flip me off or pull over. ‘Choose Joy? Maybe.” WAIT. BACK UP. Say what? Too Catholic? I couldn’t believe that thought walked into my head and took up residence. An evangelist afraid to wear a substantially Catholic hoodie out in public? Whew. Fire me now, Fr, Dave. I’m fairly certain St. Paul rolled his eyes too, then smiled, knowing his letter to Timothy would come up in the reading this week: “Stir into flame the gift of God… for God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but rather of power and love and self-control. So do not be ashamed of your testimony to Our Lord... but bear the hardship for the Gospel with the strength that comes from God.” I imagine I am not the only person here who is a reluctant to share the faith in a public setting, whether it be a saint quote in your professional office, a Mary statue in your front yard, or – gasp – praying with a friend at Froth&Cork. But if we are a mission church full of disciples, sharing the faith outside the confines of this sacred space is as important at worshipping our Lord at Mass. This week, take the risk. Witness to the faith off-campus. Talk about Jesus in public spaces. Pray to the Holy Spirit and start small like the mustard seed. #wearthehoodie

What is justice? To not promote the death penalty when a person is convicted of murder? To protect the pre-born when that innocent soul will enter a world fraught with neglect? To keep marriage between a man and a woman as the sacred bond when two people of the same gender adore each other? To house and feed a migrant from another country when others are equally as needy? To forgive others when they caused long lasting pain and incredible heartache in our lives? Is that justice? Or is it dishonest to the quid-pro-quo world of action-and-consequence? These are the questions asked of those who do not understand that Jesus’ way is not the way of the world.

To be a disciple of Jesus is to love him above all else and therefore to follow his teachings and his way of life. To be a disciple is to love poverty, practice chastity, promote justice, and be bound by obedience to the Gospel in our daily lives. It is to be kind, gentle, and grace-filled when responding to queries and criticism. It means to treat all souls with respect and dignity, regardless of their actions or attitude. To be a disciple means to treat others as Jesus has treated us. I don’t know about you, but Jesus has definitely been a dishonest steward with me, as he forgave my indolence, my self-righteousness, my many sins, and my past regrets… when he demanded the full account of my stewardship, as it were. Then he refused to serve me worldly justice and obeyed the will of his heavenly Father, showing me with mercy instead. And in return, I am filled with such joy and gratitude for my redemption that I am who I am today, a joyful disciple who wants to make Jesus Christ known and loved. And yet, I am also still a sinner in need of continual redemption. As Paul’s words to Timothy’s new church reflect, and as much as I try, I often fail to lead a tranquil life in all devotion and dignity. And Jesus begins with me anew. #Jesusjustice

On one of my trips to Iowa I listened to a cultural podcast titled, “We Can Do Hard Things.” While I disagree with most of the content, I find the philosophy captivating: “We talk honestly about the hard. We laugh and cry and help each other carry the hard so we can all live a little bit lighter and braver, free-er, less alone.” That’s the Gospel message, right? The Wisdom writer tells us that life is indeed hard since “the corruptible body burdens the soul and the earthen shelter weighs down the mind that has many concerns.” Paul’s life was just like that. In this letter to the slave-owner Philemon, he writes that in his old age, he is a prisoner for Christ Jesus, awaiting certain death for his beliefs. He’s asking Philemon to treat the new-convert Onesimus not as the slave he once was, but as a brother in Christ. All three of these are hard things: Paul contemplates his death, Onesimus his potential re-entry into slavery, and Philemon his reputation as a Christian verses a slave-owner. And then Jesus’ words about hating others, carrying our crosses, and renouncing all our possessions. Add to that mix the entirety of the Church’s moral teachings, the works of mercy we should be doing, and loving our neighbor as ourselves. And here, as we move from ‘maintaining the status quo’ to a new ‘way of living’ of falling in love with Jesus, being on fire for the faith, then inviting everyone to share our joy and our enthusiasm (our mission). Whew. Talk about hard things. But we can do hard things. With an open heart for the Holy Spirit, the grace of our Lord Jesus, and the strength of Our Heavenly Father, we can be joy-filled people who act like followers of Jesus (disciples), spreading his message of love and hope, creating a vibrant community (our vision). One that radiates Goodness, Truth, and Beauty in all we do and how we worship. One that others will take note of and want to be a part of. But it requires a tough choice that might reflect today’s Gospel, yes? #willyouorwontyou

I remember waiting for my acceptance letter into St. Paul Seminary and School of Divinity. As an older undergraduate student who excelled at writing, cared about education, and carried a litany of life experience, it was fairly easy to be at the top of the bell curve. But in my application into seminary studies, I’d be competing with other adults whose life experiences and intellectual abilities far exceeded my own. I wondered if they would let me in, this mom of six who had aspirations of being a “theologian.” I did my due-diligence: studied for the GRE, worked relentlessly on my entrance essay, submitted my transcripts, completed the necessary application, and sent in the fees. I checked all the boxes and fulfilled all the requirements with great care and consideration. There was nothing to do but wait and pray. I imagine many of our college freshmen heading off to college now spent six months doing the exact same thing. Like me, they were trying to enter the “narrow gate” of education that would substantially change our future. Here’s the deal at hand though: entrance into heaven, like education, isn’t a matter of six months of preparation. It begins at birth and continues throughout a lifetime. This is the point of the readings today. God tells Isaiah that everyone will be called to the house of the Lord but only some will be chosen. Paul writes that our life choices will be laid at the feet of Jesus on Judgement Day… the good, the bad, and the ugly, the latter two needing a bit of heavy-handed, but necessary and life-altering, discipline. He’s speaking to the Jewish Christians – but also us today - who are wearied of living the demands of the Catholic life. Jesus tells us plainly that not everyone will be saved, including those who thought they were doing His Will and His work, but we were not. Scripture is quite clear about wrong-and-right, and much as we’d like to nuance and ignore some of God’s directives because they are hard, alas, we cannot. And this is worth pondering today. #duediligence

The barren Sarah laughed when she overheard the angels say that she’d be with child before the year was out. “Impossible!” (Gen 18:12). Joseph’s brothers disregarded his dreams and traded his life for twenty pieces of silver. “Take that, you foolish dreamer!” (Gen 37:28). The reluctant Moses tried to talk his way out of leading the Chosen People into the Promised Land. “Send someone else!” (Ex 4:13). And in the fullness of time, after ages of naysaying, the Pharisees, Sadducees, and Scribes found Jesus a threat and a blasphemer, and put him to death. “He deserves to die!” (Mt 26:66) But God had other plans. In each and every instance God has His way and His will was accomplished.

Did you catch Fr. Dave’s homily a few weeks ago? You know, the one where he said that in the next four years he wants a transformation of our heart and souls, 600 more disciples in a worship space that exudes goodness, truth, and beauty, at least two people adoring the Lord every hour, 75 more small group leaders, 30 baptisms… and a full school with a waiting list? That one?

I want the same thing he does, and my evangelist heart is ready to help make it happen, God willing. The question is always, “How,” and the devil is in the details, as they say. I’ve been here just over a year now, getting to know you all, walking with some of you over the high mountains and through the dark forests on your faith journeys, and changing up a few things here and there, and I think you’re all ready for the changes that will come.

Here’s the secret to help making those goals a reality: a reliance on FAITH and HOPE, an openness to the Holy Spirit, and an “absolutely yes” attitude of joy and excitement of the whatis-to-come. It’s what the Wisdom writer had, the theme of Paul’s letter to the Hebrews, and what Jesus desires and rewards in abundance. We his servants, preparing for this blessed Adventure, will have our loins girded and lamps lit. #readysetGO

Remember the scene from the Wizard of Oz, when Dorothy, the Tin Man, and the Cowardly Lion were walking through the Haunted Forest chanting, “Lions and Tigers and Bears! Oh my!”? I think about my own version of this refrain from two years back. My words, however, were more like, “Lawyers and Prosecutors and Bail Bondsmen! Oh my!” as I walked alongside my brother through the dark and foreboding forest called our justice system. Like our innocent trio, my brother was being watched by a Wicked Witch of the West, whose name I will not slander, for like all those with whom we disagree, they truly believe what they are doing is right and just. Eventually my brother could not handle the sudden twists in the dark, the ghosts of past actions, and the financial burden of traveling on the yellow-brick-road, so he laid himself down in a field of poppies, never to waken again. I was left to pick up his broken life pieces, strewn by the wayside as he ran. I met often with Fr. Joe, my spiritual director. He was an amazing guide, both spiritually and practically speaking. He gave me strength for the paths I needed to walk, formulate the prayers I needed to pray, and delivered me from a host of not-so-nice spirits who whispered words of distress in my own valley of darkness. During those long months, we wondered how this was going to play out, how the Lord could work here. I knocked on a ton of prayer doors, asking for a lot of miracles. I could not have imagined a better resolution. Fr. Joe said to me later, “All those scenarios we played out, none of them included this one. The best one. One that we had no idea could even be. Praise God.” I smiled. Praise God indeed. Like the argument of Abraham, there were only a handful of the truly innocent in this story, and we were protected and left undestroyed. “For everyone who asks, receives; and the one who seeks, finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.” #neverforgetthatTruth

A few months back I was chatting with a friend who told a “story worth pondering.” His family was on a post-dinner stroll in downtown Hastings when they made eye contact with a woman who needed a little more help than the rest of us. She was looking for some funds to make her way to a friend’s house in the Cities, where she would pick up some needed cash to help her make it through the next couple of days. Instead of giving her a bit of leftover change, they decided to change her evening with that round-trip ride across the bridge and back. My friend heard her story, and what a story it was… the many ways family and ‘the system’ had failed her and how she ended up without a home and car, sitting by the side of the road, wounded by life. They stepped into her life and came out on the other side thinking about this woman and how to effect change both in the life of another and in the culture at large. Which, naturally, always begins with us.

You see, Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan is really about our unity with Him in thought, word, and deed. We can only change the world by modeling Him - loving those who are different from us and forgiving those who betray us. The only way we can even begin that journey is to allow his presence, through the sacraments, to invade us, to change us. To allow an infusion of grace and humility to permeate our very being. My friend later wrote to me, “Within every human heart there is a tabernacle where Christ dwells. When we love and hold a deep reverence for Christ within ourselves, we open ourselves to witnessing and loving Christ in others. When we love God with all our strength, with all our mind, with all our heart and with all our soul a door is opened that we may love our neighbor as ourselves.” #Icouldnothavesaiditbettermyself

You might have missed a most interesting line in Luke’s gospel today. Jesus is “resolutely” heading to Jerusalem with his entourage, after ministering around the Sea of Galilee. He knows his hour has come. They pass through the previously hostile cities of Samaria, which is the quickest way to their destination, and the Samarians will have none of it. Interesting. Remember, Jesus has revealed that he is the Messiah to them before the Jews, and he upholds them as the model of charity in knowing who is thy neighbor. Yet Luke writes: “On the way they entered a Samaritan village to prepare for his reception there, but they would not welcome him, because the destination of his journey was Jerusalem.” Very interesting. Now why might that be?

I’m going to wander down a path further than maybe I should, but I think it’s the right way as I see a light at the end. Slip on their shoes for a minute. They’ve been maligned, neglected, and ostracized by the Jews, but made to feel respected, beloved, and welcomed by Jesus. Rumor has it that he’s the Messiah and they, the Samarians, are the source of that truth. He’s eaten with them, instructed them, and healed their wounds - on the inside and out. They are a changed people. Elevated by his presence and preaching. They know him. They love him. And want him to stay by their sides and in their hearts forever. They want to protect him from his destiny with death, not yet understanding the resurrection. They’re hurt and beyond upset that he won’t stay. I get it. When you love someone, you want to be with him. Forever. That’s what it’s like to be in a relationship with Jesus.

In the end they just have to say, “Go. We can’t do this anymore. We can’t hurt this much, this hard. You are not welcome here this time.” If Jesus was passing through Hastings on his way to the Cathedral to meet his demise, what would you say? #pleasedontleaveme

“It is especially sobering to learn that when Pew surveyors asked the question, ‘Which comes closest to your view of God: God is a person with whom people can have a relationship, or God is an impersonal force?’ only 48 percent of Catholics were absolutely certain that the God they believed in was a God with whom they could have a personal relationship.”

Ah, to be young and in love. I gained a delightful daughter a few weeks ago, as my son married the love of his life. They wanted to tell the world that LOVE is BEAUTIFUL and worth celebrating. Their love is the best kind of love: patient and kind, other-focused, rejoices in each other’s success, not jealous nor rude nor grudge-bearing. It is the kind of love we long for, fight for, and protect once it’s found. Their love is based on admiration and equality, in all the right ways. Together they moved into a recently-purchased house this week, and my son told me that they purchased this house within ‘his’ means, so that his lovely bride could choose to work – or not – and follow whatever professional dream she may have. He wants nothing but her happiness and allow her to flourish in her personal and professional life. He wants to look out for her. It seems there is a bit of chivalry in my son – he wants to protect his wife not because she is weak, but because she is so incredibly valuable to him.

And so it is with the Trinity, yes? The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit has so much love between them, that it naturally spilled out into creation. And that creation – you and I and everyone and everything else – is so incredibly valuable and beloved to them. They desire our happiness and want us to flourish. They are patient, kind, supportive, gentle in their correction, and believe that every single one of us is worth dying for. #thankyouJesus

Their love for us is forever young and eternally beautiful. It rejoices in this Truth. Their love for us bears all things, believes in all things, endures all things. Their love never fails us. #a1Corinthians13love

All 84 of our Confirmation candidates have now received the final sacrament of initiation, and by the power of the Holy Spirit, received the supernatural gifts intended for them! In two weeks we’ll have the Rite of Receiving, and you’ll be able to see their smiling faces and transformed souls.

It’s interesting… they are a little unsure of these gifts for themselves, but when I ask them which ones their parents received, they can identify who-has-which-gift in hot minute: wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety, and fear of the Lord. The same for fruits of the Holy Spirit: charity, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, generosity, gentleness, faithfulness, modesty, self-control, and chastity. We also receive particular charisms from God - these are things like discernment of spirits, prophecy, speaking in and interpretation of tongues, leadership, administration, evangelization, service, and leadership, to name a few.

These are the weapons the Holy Spirit generously provides, so that we can fulfill our mission in this war-torn walking-wounded world. Paul certainly had the gift of fortitude, the fruit of patience, and the charism of evangelization. Peter perhaps had wisdom, faithfulness, and leadership. St. Elizabeth Ann Seton seems to have been given fear of the Lord, charity, and administration. Which brings me to YOU.

Which has the Holy Spirit given you and how do you use it to build up the faith in others and the Church in general? Or are you using them for yourself? You see, you have free will to use the gifts of the Spirit however you choose. Perhaps you received the gift of wisdom and parlayed it into a successful financial advisory career or the gift of counsel and have a lovely mentoring role in a Fortune 500 firm. Or fortitude (perseverance) in grinding work you aren’t fond of or a personal piety that gives you a pretty amazing prayer life. Those aren’t bad things, of course, but the true purpose of your gifts is to build up the Church of God. When you do, they become strengthened and, well… supernatural and superabundant. And pretty amazing, actually. #builduptheChurch

There is a lot going on in our reading from Acts of the Apostles today. Paul has been given the mission of bringing the Good News of Jesus and the Resurrection to the Gentiles (which includes anyone who isn’t Jewish, regardless of nationality). It’s early in his post-conversion life, in fact it’s his first preaching assignment. The disciples have accepted him as one of their own, and it seems the Holy Spirit has destined him to travel with Barnabas to a small Roman town with a significant Jewish population, Antioch of Pisidia. Once in town, they immediately head to where folks gather: the Synagogue. Here, the law and prophets are read, and the synagogue officials, noting the presence of the very intelligent and well-respected Pharisee named Saul, ask him “for a word of exhortation.”

Oh boy. Saul-now-Paul gives them an exhortation they are not expecting: An Old-Testament-laden sermon about how Jesus fulfills the prophecies of a Messiah! Yikes! We skip over this sermon in today’s reading, and fall headlong into the drama. Immediately after this service, the leading Jews tell Paul and Barnabas to “remain faithful to the grace of God.” As in, stop this nonsense about Jesus. But word gets around. People talk. You can imagine the whispered conversations, yes?

The following Sabbath, everyone, almost the entire city, gathers to hear Paul and Barnabas speak about Jesus. And the Jewish rabbis are not happy, not happy at all. They speak with the “violent abuse” of jealousy and rage against our heroes. But the Gentiles are delighted, for they felt like they finally belonged to a community where everyone is treated as equals. Which infuriate the rabbis further (hierarchy, anyone?), so they recruit the leading Jewish women and secular men of the community to have Paul and Barnabas expelled from town, for they’ve upended the social order. The last-shall-be-first and love-thy-neighbor-as-thyself. Speak gently and judge not. Defend dignity and morality. Sins-forgiven not sacrifice-for-sin.

Whew. But that’s what following Jesus means. To be “filled with joy and the Holy Spirit,” when persecuted for talking about Jesus or upending the social order. #belikePaul

I was at my home parish throughout the Triduum and Easter, catching up with old friends and making new ones, amidst the beauty and glory of the liturgies. It’s a small community, where no one is a stranger, really. We caught up on the Good that’s happened while I’ve been away, with long hugs, sweet laughter, and joy in abundance. As with all communities, it’s not been without its sorrows too. Some delightful souls have gone home to be with the Lord, and a couple more are in the process of unpacking their earthly baggage, preparing to meet Jesus with nothing but open arms. There were a few folks ‘missing in action’ too, although as it turns out, they were just missing in our action - they had joined our local megachurch.

Here’s where our readings today come into play. “Many signs and wonders were done among the people at the hands of the apostles,” means that lives were changed through prayer and friendship and looking out for one another in a meaningful way. John ends up on Patmos because he “shares in the distress, the kingdom, and the endurance we have in Jesus,” which means that suffering isn’t absent from life, but holding Jesus in his heart and in his work makes it all worthwhile. Jesus appears to hiding disciples, greeting them, “Peace be with you,” meaning that faith can overcome any angst in our troubled souls.

That is the Good News: Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection makes a difference in the way we live ours. We worship each Sunday in reverent joy, we reach out to neighbors in distress, we share in the joys of new life, and help shoulder the burdens of sorrow. We gather together outside of Sundays, encouraging one another to live a life of virtue infused with hope. We wrap justice in mercy and forgiveness. We speak with gentle tongues borne from a grace-filled heart. Our faith lives are not separate from professional ones, we bring Jesus everywhere. This kind of authentic witness is what draws folks to a faith community. Let’s make it ours. #churchiseverywhere

I’ve spent a week with my parents, soaking up time and wisdom, as only the Lord knows how our lives will unfold and intertwine over the coming year. Most evenings we watched Judge Judy and Jeopardy, two diverse manifestations of wisdom, yes? One seeks the truth of the matter at hand, while the other seeks the knowledge of an individual, but both show us a bit of what we would consider wisdom. A question on Jeopardy went something like this: “This road is named for the way of suffering,” to which the contestant replied, “What is the Via Dolorosa” for the win. She knew what it was, but I wonder if she had any inclination of how hard it to navigate the narrow paths and sudden turns of such a road, or what truths the way of suffering beholds.

So it is with Palm Sunday. We know so much about the Last Supper, the arrest in the Garden, the betrayal of Judas and the denial of Peter, the sudden change in popular opinion, the division between sinners, and those final bold moments of the cross. We could easily identify the players in the category of The Last Hours of Jesus and make a bid for Final Jeopardy.

But do we try to understand the reality of the drama and seek the Truth of the meaning of suffering? Where do you stand in the drama at hand? A disciple breaking bread with the Lord, unaware of what is to come? One who defends the laws but not with mercy? A bystander upset by the inflicted violence? Or someone who prefers to not be involved in matters of faith? Persecuted or outcast for your belief? Under physical duress through no fault of your own? Undergone a reversal of fortune or a sudden loss in popularity? Jesus knows exactly where you stand and feels your pain. Or your apathy, which also pains him.

Life isn’t always fair and earthly justice doesn’t always prevail. The question is if you’ll allow Jesus to walk alongside you in life. Which is the Truth of matter at hand. #JudgeJudyapproved

We’re in week three of Lent, and I have to ask, “Are your Lenten disciplines bringing you into an intimate relationship with God? Or do they just reflect your own personal strength?” I often wonder what Moses was thinking about his life before he met God in the not-burning bush? Here he was, a Prince of Egypt, surrounded by royalty and luxury, and living the good life. But he kills an Egyptian overseer, the Pharoah uncovers his crime, and Moses runs to Midian to escape sudden death. Moses is an important Egyptian to the priest Reuel, and thus gives his daughter Zipporah in marriage. Shortly thereafter, Moses has the coveted son, Gershon. Moses now has it all… a lovely dowry from Zipporah, a fine reputation from Reuel, and a firstborn son. It’s much like he had in Egypt, except this time he’s amassed it all by the strength of his own hand. Life doesn’t get much better than this.

Until it does, for Moses meets the God of the Israelites upon Mount Horeb.

Moses has an intimate encounter that he never dreamed possible. A God so intense that His presence consumes a bush without destroying it. He removes his sandals and hides his face so that there is nothing between him and the God of creation. No barriers. No filters. No obstacles. Just God and Moses. And like the created bush before him, Moses is surrounded and captivated without injury. Isn’t that the purpose of Lent? To be intimate and captivated by Jesus?

Yes, Moses goes on to give excuses as to why he cannot do God’s work, and I’m not any different: I’ll look foolish. No one will believe me. Or listen to me. I’ll not speak eloquently. I’m not holy enough. Please send someone else. But like Moses, God will provide. It will not be by my hand, but by God’s grace, out of an abiding love for me. So. Are your Lenten disciplines bringing you into an intimate relationship with God? Are you bearing good fruit? #ponderingLent

 
Welcome to the first week of Lent and the question for today is a simple one with a yes-no answer: “Are you interested in getting to know Jesus better, or are you not?” If you are not interested in knowing Jesus in a personal way - which changes the way you work and move and think in the world - then I encourage you to leave Mass and go home. It’s not that I don’t want you here, I really, really do. It’s just that the Lord loves you too much to leave you where you are, and if you aren’t interested in that kind of transformational love, then why are you here?

I don’t think the Lord died for you out of “obligation” or because it was “a sin if he didn’t.” Being fully human, he had free will, so he didn’t have to be tempted, humiliated, beaten, or crucified so that you could be fully alive in a culture of death. Nope. He didn’t “have to” suffer taunts and threats and bodily harm so that you could be made whole in this broken world. No sirreee, Bob. He didn’t walk among the outcast, heal the sick in mind and body, or preach to those in need because he wanted to “enjoy community” with his friends. Sorry.

Jesus did-what-he-did out of love. For you, reading this column. Yes, YOU. Absolutely YOU. A deep, adoring, and abiding kind of love, an I-want-the-best-for-you relationship, a soul-to-soul kind of love, the kind that we spend so much of our lives chasing. The crazy adventurous kind of love, with stunning peaks and golden valleys, and some dangerous terrain where you never let go of each other, because a memorable adventure always includes overcoming an obstacle or two. A love that never fears and never fades. Jesus’ love is not the kind of love that you can fall out of, because it is the most perfect love of all

. But it is one you can walk away from.

So. Are you interested in getting to know Jesus better, or are you not? #transformation2022

Unlike the early Christians, most of us here in Hastings and in our faith community don’t greet our archrivals or bitter enemies on a daily basis; we’ve learned to ‘place nice in the sandbox’ once we hit adulthood. Other communities are not so lucky; race riots, political shootings, and gang revenge occur at an alarming rate. And in our middle- and high- schools, that time in life our children work out how to become wholesome adults in a broken world, it’s common to hear, “so-and-so hates me” or “that-person is making my life miserable.” And indeed it’s true, usually because of a pattern of familial brokenness, parental neglect, improper example-setting, and trauma/drama in the tormenters own world.

It’s no different for King Saul and the newly-anointed David. Saul’s popularity is waning, David’s is rising, thus division is in the air. Some prefer Saul to rule but many now prefer David. Saul has given a shoot-to-kill no-questions-asked bounty for David’s head. Yet God’s blessing (last week, remember?!) is upon David and despite his external circumstances, he is calm and clear-headed, at peace, and hope-filled. Saul’s army is unknowingly camped near David’s hideaway; it would be easy for David to cement the kingship through his killing of Saul. Yet the taking of a life, even of one’s enemy, is not of God, so David defers to the Lord and treats his enemy with mercy, eschewing the cultural rules of warfare.

Which is what Jesus repeats in the Gospel today: “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.” We are also to take insults without response, give generously, and refrain from revenge or demanding earthly justice. As Paul simply says, “bear the image of the heavenly one,” Jesus himself.

This is why the Gospel message is often called, “radical.” We are called to sacrificial love. We are to go against the tide of social expectation, to rise above the cultural demands of justice, and let Jesus have the final say at the pearly gates. Radical, right? #beradical

I write this before I leave for Arizona to visit my elderly parents. My brother and I have received some unsettling texts and heard some disappointing news, and decisions need to be made. But the sun should be shining, and if not, you don’t have to shovel rain. My brother and I will have meals with our parents, watch a bit of football, Judge Judy, and the Nightly News, and reminisce about our respective growing up years. We’ll talk about the realities of life, and make decisions based off news we’d rather not have heard. This is the ordinary drama of life, though there is nothing ordinary about it.

Like Isaiah, it’s possible for us to cry, “Woe is me!” when the realities of life are too much to bear and the burdens too heavy to carry. Or be frustrated like Paul, who writes to the fickle people of Corinth, “I am reminding you of the gospel which I preached to you,” as he hears news he would rather not know about his fledgling church. Paul wants so much for them to accept Jesus into their hearts, so that the daily battleground looks and feels more like a well-tilled and fruit-filled garden.

We find both Isaiah and the Corinthians at the elbow of Simon Peter, too. He’s been toiling on the sea throughout the night, all on his own accord, and come sunrise, woe and frustration are his companions. Us too, sometimes. Our work is Monday through Saturday, and our worship is Sunday. In between masses, we don’t often think on the Lord or how He might help us in our daily work, the “ordinary hours” of everyday life. But that is exactly where the Lord wants to be, walking beside you in the ordinariness of life, in the midst of the day-to-day decisions you need to make, some of which are more difficult than others. Because without Jesus, our lives come up a little empty. We work hard with little to show for it. The Lord wants more for you. Abundantly more. Are you willing? #extraordinarytime

Oh Nehemiah, you had me at “today.” As in, “Today is holy to the Lord, your God. Do not be sad and do not weep. Go, eat rich foods and drink sweet drinks, and allot portions to those who had nothing prepared; for today is holy to our Lord.” Yep, that’s what Sundays are all about! To gather as a community, hear the Word of God, partake of the Eucharist, then join with others side-by-side for more fellowship with donuts and coffee. At Mass, we bring our crosses and our gifts to the Lord, laying all at his feet. He turns it into something Beautiful for God, leaving us joy-full and Spirit-filled, knowing it’s all in the hands of the Lord. Then at fellowship afterward, we build up the body of Christ.

For we all are one body in Christ, as Paul writes to the people of Corinth today. Sunday Mass is where we come together: If one of us is hurting or in need, we set this person before the Lord then do our best to help. If one of us is rejoicing, we rejoice alongside them. It’s true! We as a community here at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton hurt when you are suffering and rejoice at your good fortune.

Since the beginning, this is how life is to be celebrated, with Eucharist as the source of all, and Sunday the absolute pinnacle of the week. How AMAZING is that? As Luke channeling Isaiah would say, ‘What better glad tidings are there? How liberating is that? Isn’t a vibrant faith community a sight to see?’ It’s why neglecting or rejecting Mass for other lesser gods (sports, cultural events, or even laziness under the guise of ‘rest’) is a mortal sin and needs the restorative balm of confession before heading back into communion with the Lord.*

Let’s make this a year “acceptable to the Lord” and celebrate Sunday, the Lord’s Day, with the reckless abandon of Love amidst community. #fulfillingScripture

*Missing Mass because of illness or serious threat of illness is never considered a mortal sin. Please stay home if you are feeling unwell.

My nephew and future-niece have two children together and are planning a September wedding on the Land, which is how they affectionately refer to the vast acreage my nephew’s mother owns. At my visit with them last summer, they asked me to baptize both their “littles” in the creek that runs through the Land, either before or after the wedding. At the time, they were in a bit of spiritual swirl as their newborn entered this world with a clef palate, club foot, and a heart abnormality, and the big questions of life and death were front and center.

We conversed generally about God, faith, and the point of baptism, which is to lessen the bond of original sin as well as bring a soul into a community of faith; a community that will support and nurture them as they tackle parenthood amidst the chaos of culture. They weren’t attached to a faith community, so I encouraged them to try out a few and see which one ‘loved them’ best.

On my return drive home, I began to ponder baptism. What I said to my future niece is true, but perhaps not the fullness of Truth. In trying to use words and ideas she would understand, I couldn’t go deep into the concepts of sacramentality, ongoing salvation, sanctifying grace, or even the indelible seal of Christ on the soul. These are the theological ideas that Catholic parents agree to at Baptism, as well as presenting their child for acceptance into our faith community. We give our pledge to help these new parents nurture their children in the faith too, remember. We are to ‘love them into our community.’

We’re changing things up here at St. Elizabeth’s, slowly but surely, forming disciples and creating a vibrant faith community. The next time you see a Baptism announcement in the bulletin or are at a Mass with a baptism, let’s love this new soul and family into community by sending a card, offering a meal, or smiling at Mom and Dad when a toddler is just being a toddler at Mass. #baptismisonlythebeginning

Did You Know? 
The Catechism of the Catholic Church (1213-1274) teaches that the Rite of Baptism has six essential elements: (1) proclamation of the Word of God; (2) acceptance of the Gospel and subsequent acts of conversion; (3) profession of faith; (4) the pouring of water and anointing with sacred chrism; (5) the outpouring of the Holy Spirit; (6) admission to Eucharistic communion. [1229]

Infant baptism was practiced since the time of the Apostles, as we read that entire “households” received baptism (Acts 16:15, 33 for example). Church documents from the second century (Pastoralis actio) confirm the practice. [1252] In regard to children who have died without baptism, “the Church entrusts them to the mercy of God.” Jesus’ tenderness toward children “allow us to hope that there is a way of salvation” for unbaptized children. [1261]

Baptism imprints on the soul an indelible spiritual character, which consecrates the baptized for worship. Because of this, baptism is not repeated. [1272]
By our baptism, we are members of the common priesthood, called to be prophets, and own a share of Christ’s kingship. [1268]

Ordinary ministers of Baptism are the Bishop, priest, and deacon. In case of necessity, any person can baptize, if he/she has the required intention of baptizing in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. [1256]

The Catechism of the Catholic Church is simply a statement of Church doctrine regarding both faith and morals. Commissioned by John Paul II in 1985 and published in 1992, John Paull II writes in the Introduction, “[This catechism] is offered to all the faithful who wish to deepen their knowledge of the unfathomable riches of salvation…. showing carefully the content and wonderous harmony of the Catholic faith.”

In 2005, the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB) also released a Compendium of the Catechism of the Catholic Church, whose Introduction was written by Cardinal Josef Ratzinger. It is a simplified and reader-friendly version of the Catechism, formatted in question-and-answer style.

My husband is third in the line of thirteen children born to his Mom and Dad. All single births, mostly 18-24 months apart. To take a break from the chaos of diapers, feedings, and keeping kids busy, they would get out of town for a day. My husband tells the story of the day they spent at a park in Davenport, Iowa, meeting rarely-seen relatives coming from the opposite direction. There were tons of kids and a lot of adults; it was a beautiful day for a family reunion and everyone was making the most of it. As dusk fell, his happily exhausted parents packed up both cars and headed home, accidentally leaving my husband behind, each parent thinking he was in the other car.

It was a while before he noticed his family was gone, since there were other random people at the park and he was playing with a ton of kids he hadn’t met before. It wasn’t until he went looking for his closest brother that he noticed he was left behind. He says he wasn’t afraid, knowing they would fetch him eventually, so he hung out on the swings closest to the parking lot.

I imagine Jesus knew that Mary and Joseph would fetch him eventually, so he hung out at the place that was the whole reason for their trip: The Temple. While he was waiting, he listened and learned… and then had a few things to say for himself. By the time Mary and Joseph returned four days later, the teachers (Pharisees) were astounded by his words and his reasoning. I wonder where those same Pharisees are 21 years later, when Jesus returns to teach in the Temple, as “astounded” is not a word Jesus uses to describe them.

I wonder too… Are we still astounded by Jesus’ words? Do we let the Gospel message penetrate our hearts, minds, and actions? Or are we lost in our own world, like the Pharisees who forgot how they once hung on his every word? Mary and Joseph found Jesus. My husband’s parents found him. Can Jesus find you? #lostandfound

Paul writes to his persecuted friends in Philippi, “Rejoice in the Lord always. I shall say it again: Rejoice! Your kindness should be known to all.” He’s reminding them (and us) of their mission as followers of Jesus: Bring the Goodness, Truth, and Beauty of the faith - wrapped in grace and kindness - to a culture in desperate need.

Paul knows about desperation. He’s writing this letter while he sits in Nero’s prison, awaiting death. “Kindness” and “joy” are not words anyone would use in a sentence with Nero’s name nor regime, unless it’s talking about the qualities both are not. Nero douses followers of Jesus in oil then lights them afire to use as torches alongside the roads to the Coliseum to the delight of many. He feeds Christians to the wild animals for cultural amusement. Nero marries a young boy, Sporus, who greatly resembles his late wife, out of regret for murdering her. Clearly, the words and message of Jesus have fallen on rocky soil in the house of Rome.

What about the house of Hastings? Or the house of St. Elizabeth Ann Seton? Or our own individual homes? Do we consult the wisdom of holy men and women of the Church, “What should we do?” as the followers of John did, or allow the ways of the world to dictate our actions, doing what we want and thinking as we please? Do we rejoice in our suffering when chastised for speaking the Gospel truths in kindness like Paul’s people, or are we silent in the fear of opposition?

Are we disciples of Jesus who petition the Lord with thanksgiving, without anxiety? Does the Word of God guard our hearts, minds, and actions? Do we share our coats with the homeless and our daily bread with the hungry? Are we generous with our income and stingy with our lies? Do we ‘fear not’ and ‘sing joyfully’? Are we filled with hope over the expectation of Jesus’ second coming? These are the words of Scripture today, the Good News for all to hear. #JesusiswhereTruthandLoveunite

Abundant New Year’s blessings to you! No, Sarah hasn’t printed the wrong column here. Today is the first Sunday of the new Church year. Advent marks the turn of a new season, and it is indeed a beautiful season for new beginnings, one filled with hope and joy! The prophet Jeremiah tells us as much, yes? “The days are coming, says the LORD, when I will fulfill the promise I made to the house of Israel and Judah. In those days, in that time, I will raise up for David a just shoot; he shall do what is right and just in the land.”

It might not seem like it after all these years, as justice and righteousness appear to be in short supply. It feels like a hard and cruel land right now. We are weary of the virus and its effect on our lives. Our tempers are quick, yet our patience is short. Our anxiety is high and our morale low. We sense a cultural unrest and an undercurrent of persecution for our faith beliefs. Division and despair lurk in the darkness. It seems not much has changed since that time when God the Son entered the land and rocked our world.

Yet Jesus - our poor King who is but rich in grace and mercy, overflowing with love, and resplendent in hope and peace – is doing what is right and just in our land, through us, who are His disciples. My brothers and sisters in Christ: “May your faith increase and may you abound in love for one another and for all,” so that our sleepy hearts are awakened and watered with grace, peace, and mercy. May we then enthusiastically “conduct ourselves in a manner pleasing to the Lord”! This, and only this, will allow us to bring the same to our neighbors here in Hastings.

In this new year my friends, I beg you to let this land know we are Catholic by having our hearts set joyfully afire and doing what is right and just for Love Incarnate. #nodrowsyheartshere