Father Greg

Getting the Last Word

A homily for the 22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time

I was on a seminary board and one of the members said, we’re not in compliance. And I said, what does that mean? And he says, canon law says we should have one novitiate with one novice master, and we have one division with two novice masters, one from the New York province, one from the Chicago province. That’s not in compliance.

And so I thought for a while, you know, what we could say is we really have like two divisions, said one for New York Province, one for Chicago Province in the same building, we’ll call it co-institutional. And he looked at me and said, that’s so stupid. I hate being called stupid. I got, man. But I said, well, let’s refer it to Rome.

Let’s see what Rome says. And he says, okay, all right. So he wrote, because he’s afraid I would leave the letter. Rome wrote back like three months later and said, you can consider it constitutional. A New York province and its Chicago Province division in the same building. I was right, and so, of course, could I be a gracious winner?

No, not at all. I’d have the last word. So I said, hey, I’m right. Rome. You know how the Latin goes. Rome, Roma lucuta set, causa finita est Rome has spoken. The cause is done. And the guy said, Rome is wrong and you’re wrong. So there and so, I guess no cause of beneath us. No. You’re wrong. Then it became union.

Yes yes yes yes. No no no. It was ugly and stupid. Each of us had to have the last word. But silly. Well, today the gospel is about when you go to a wedding, take the least seat. That way, if you’re your bigger guest, they’ll take you to the front. Don’t take the front. They’ll push you to the back.

Who does that anymore? I think, but what we do do is the same thing. But with this last word, I going to add the last word. I’ve got to be right. I’m going to finish your sentences. It’s all about my opinion. I’m going to say it till you know, till everybody agrees. I think it’s the same thing. It’s a little bit different.

And that’s not the call to be right all the time. To get the last word to be number one. That’s what Jesus is after. Say to when we are misunderstood and judged unfavorably, what good does it do to defend or explain ourselves? It is so much better to say nothing and allow others to judge us as they please.

Boy, is that difficult. But I think that sums up today’s gospel. Boy, is it difficult because I really have trouble doing that myself. Boy, is that difficult. So difficult. I keep that quotation on my desk.

Radical Horizontality

A homily for the 21st Sunday of Ordinary Time

We know the names King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella because they sent Columbus to America. But what they’d also done is they conquered the Muslims, drove them out of Spain, reunite reuniting the kingdom, and told all the remaining Muslims and Jews become Catholic or, leave. And they instituted purity of blood law that you had to show you didn’t have any Jewish ancestry, Muslim ancestry, to work in the government to be an aristocrat, to become a religious, to become a priest, anything you had to prove purity of bloodline.

It was a very vertical law. Judging you are not worthy because you don’t have pure blood. Here comes Teresa of Avila, founding these new convents of hers. And she. Everyone was welcome. It didn’t matter what their ancestry was. Indigenous from the Americas. Welcome, former Muslims. Welcome people of Jewish blood. Welcome. And you get a lot of trouble. He said there’s a purity of blood law.

She said it doesn’t matter. All are welcome here. She took this vertical law, that was too vertical. And because she was radically horizontal. And I think that’s what today’s gospel is about, being radically horizontal. And Jesus says, try to come in through the narrow key or take the narrow road. Teresa of Avila says, “I don’t see how, Lord, nor do I know how the road that leads to you is narrow.” Because she could see that there are people in all directions who want to be part of the community, want to be united, want to love one another.

Radical horizontality. And that’s why Jesus will say, you will be surprised if you’re rejected. Because if you see the world vertically and of course, positioning yourself, then at the top of the heap superior to all of them. That’s not what Jesus is here for. He says people will come from the east, west, north and south, horizontal directions not coming from the kingdom to the mountaintops, from the summits, from the sky.

No, from the east, west, north. To the banquet. I think that’s the key. That’s why Teresa of Avila cannot see how that’s a narrow road, because that’s how she saw everything. And that’s the call for us to see everything. Not judging, not superior, them inferior, but horizontal. Brothers and sisters. All.

When You Can’t Let it Go

A homily for the 19th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Father Roy tells the story that when he was a new priest. So this is a few years ago, because Father Roy has been 60 years a priest. When he was a new priest, an older priest then in the house was dying. So they were taking turns through the night so the priest wouldn’t die alone. And it was Father Roy’s turn.

So he’s in the easy chair, and he falls asleep. And he wakes up because the guy is calling out to him. And. But the guy is, you know, asks for something, but Roy can’t understand. So he leans. What do you want, father? Another blanket? No, no, no. I fluff up your pillow. No no no. Something to eat?. No, no no.

No water? No. And then the priest, reaches, behind him. Points behind his. Under his pillow. So, Roy reaches under there and there’s a checkbook, and he hands the checkbook to this priest. And the priest takes the checkbook and is holding it like this, and he’s holding the checkbook and dies with it in his hand. And, I’m thinking that’s a terrible story.

But in many ways, we’re all that priest. There’s something that isn’t what we should be holding on to, that we hold on to old grudges or old vanities, or old memories or old hurts or things that that the Lord is constantly saying, let go, let those go, and we don’t want to. We’re going to clutch on to them. It could be our accomplishments, our degrees, our family, all sorts of things that we think are us, and we’re going to hold on to it.

Saint Teresa of Avila says, “Lord, I do not think I can give you everything that you ask.” Even the great Saint Teresa can’t give up everything. She has her checkbook, so she has a checkbook. You have a checkbook. But she is a great saint, she continues the prayer, “but I will allow you to take it.” That is sanctity. That we can’t give up everything. There’s something that’s just too dear to us could be for the positive or the negative. But ask the Lord to take it. In today’s gospel, Jesus says, where your treasure is, there your heart will be. I think that’s the call. Give the Lord all of your treasures. Give the Lord all your words, whatever it is that keeps you from fullness of life and living, and the fullness of this gift, and give that to the Lord. And then the Lord will have your heart. Lord, I do not think I can give you everything that you ask, but I will allow you to take it. Tough prayer, but I think we can do it.

You Get What You Expect

A Homily for the 17th Sunday of Ordinary Time

I was driven to the brand new diocesan retreat center. And as we get up there, there’s no one around but just some dogs. So you step out of the car and the driver says, oh those are mean guard dogs. I’m petting these dogs and they’re wagging their tails. And I said, no, they’re friendly dogs. They’re pussycat dogs. Come on out of the car.

He opens his door and the dogs run around the car. He slams the door. He said, I told you. So I took the dogs, put them in the chapel and closed the door. So he could get out of the car. Those two? I was expecting friendly dogs. The dogs gave me friendly dogs. He was expecting mean guard dogs. The dogs gave him mean guard dogs.

I think that’s how life works. And that’s how we work with one another. When I was a schoolteacher. I always expected my students to do great work and great job and get good grades. And you know, they never disappointed me. They always rose to it. I expected good. They gave me good.

And so we extend this to today’s gospel of Jesus. Just knock. It will be opened ask you’ll be given. It’ll be abundant. If dogs deliver. If people deliver, I think God delivers. Just expect God, the universe, creation, everything to deliver. And it will deliver. The door will be opened. The, requests will not be denied. They’ll be answered.

The fullness will be given. It’s the whole universe. From dogs to people and students to God himself, gives what you expect, Saint Teresa of Avila says, “never cease to believe that even in this life, God gives the hundredfold.” That’s what today’s gospel is all about.

Martha and Mary Must Combine

A homily for the 16th Sunday of Ordinary Time

Last Thursday, we celebrated a memorial. The Carmelite Martyrs of Compiegne. Compiegne is a cloister in northern France, and during the French Revolution, they were ordered to disband. And they did. They came to Paris, but they formed a community in Paris, and they were found out still living religious life. So they were arrested and ordered executed. And if executions back then were like a big social events where people selling food and jugglers and all sorts of things, people loved executions.

And in come the martyrs. These nuns. And the crowd got silent. What’s going on? Are we executing nuns now? And it’s just was dramatic. They started to sing the song. And as each one was guillotined, there was one less voice until finally the Mother Superior was guillotined and she was killed mid-line. The crowd went home in silence.

And that was the end of the Reign of Terror after the French Revolution. People said, have we come to this? What are we doing? We’re killing nuns now? And they just thought the whole thing out. And I think that’s what we have to do. That’s always the call, is to think our actions out. And is this is really what we want to be doing? To give it deep thought, deep prayer.

In today’s gospel, we have Martha and Mary. Traditionally, they’ve been, seen as Martha is the active one. She’s the one doing ministry. She’s serving Jesus food, and Mary is the contemplative one. She’s sitting at his feet and they’re kind of, Mary is a little upset. And so Jesus says, oh, Mary’s chosen the better part. And oftentimes that’s traditionally said the contemplative life is superior to the active life.

But Teresa of Avila says, no, that actually it’s both. Both have to be operative because we do so much on autopilot or so much without thought. We have to bring our actions into contemplation and contemplation. Then into action. It’s this dynamic going back and forth. And so she looks at this story of Martha, and Mary and says, “To give our Lord perfect hospitality, Martha and Mary must combine.” I think that’s what was happening with that crowd when they said, what are we doing? They thought it out, they prayed it out and they changed. I think that’s the call of today’s gospel. We have to be both contemplative and active. Not one, not the other. Both to give the Lord perfect hospitality, but to give ourselves a good and rich and wonderful life, to give our Lord a perfect hospitality, Martha and Mary must combine.

Bridesmaids, Please Sit Down!

A homily for the 14th Sunday in Ordinary Time

It was the Friday and Father Ron retired to the parish, said to me, can you do tonight’s rehearsal? I got a wedding tomorrow. Rehearsal tonight. I don’t have the energy for it. I said, sure, I’ll do it. Well, it turned out it was a little chaotic. Get them all seated for a 6:00 rehearsal and the doors of the church open, and they all jump up.

Bridesmaids, bride and groom to greet. Uncle Fred let’s say. Because they had invited everybody to the rehearsal. I get them seated again. I get on the microphone. Please sit down. They ignored me, I had to go back there, bring them back. Sit them about to start the rehearsal a second time. The doors of the church open aunt Mabel, and they all go running back. There to greet and, please sit down. Bridesmaids sit down. They ignored me, I had to go back there, bring them to the front, about to start the rehearsal. It happens a third time and I’m getting married. And I said I can’t get married because all theyll remember is the Priest got mad. So I’m thinking, what can I do? And I said, I have to reprogram myself.

What I think I did was I, allocated an hour and a half for the rehearsal. That’s what it normally takes. I’m going to give these people to 10 p.m., and if they’re still not rehearsing, then I’ll get mad because that’s four hours instead of an hour and a half. Well, we got the rehearsal done and before 10 p.m., but I realized then it’s not out there that anxiety comes from. It’s not out there that anger, it’s in here or it’s in here. And by Reprograming, everything worked up because as soon as I said till 10 p.m., peace fell upon me, calm washed over me. Today in the gospel, Jesus sent out the 72 and he tells them, when you enter some place, say, peace upon this household. He’s sending them out on a peace mission, but he’s telling them how to do this.

Don’t take all this extra stuff you’re going to worry about. Don’t take food. Don’t take knapsack. Don’t take staff. Don’t take extra sandals. Just go. Don’t worry about that stuff. And then if they’re not peaceable people, they’re just leave. Don’t worry about them. He’s teaching them how to be at peace themselves. So that they then can bestow peace upon these households in this peace mission of today’s gospel.

St. Teresa of Avila says, and it’s her her grasp of peace, “for a soul surrendered into God’s hands doesn’t care whether they say good or evil about it”. That’s the key of today’s gospel. Surrender yourself. Surrender all that stuff you worry about. Surrender what your people are going to say about you, or think about you or laugh at you. Surrender that all into God’s hands and then you won’t care. You will be at peace. That’s the call of today’s gospel.

Who Do You Say I Am?

A homily for the Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul

In my previous parish, the rectory there had a big mouse problem. Couldn’t get on top of it. The exterminators couldn’t. So finally my associate brought in two kittens from the shelter and I said, hey, but I live here. Should I have had a voice? He says, well, you can name them. And so I named the Abishag or Abbey, and Ezekiel, Zeke. Because they should have, rectory cats should have Bible names. And after they cleaned up the house, these two little kittens, they grew up and they became house cats. Well, eventually we moved and his parents retired. They wanted cats. So now they have the cats. And it’s been a while since I visited them. But I went to LA for an ordination and I stopped to have dinner with my associate parents, and I said, down before dinner and I’m just talking to them

The cats ignore me completely, ignored me completely. I was just there until I said, Abby, Zeke. And they straighten up and they look at me and they come running across the house, and Zeke jumped on my chest and Abby was there by my knees. And I think they recognize their names and they’re their endearing names. And that’s what they responded to, was their name. In today’s gospel, Jesus says, who do they say that I am? Who do people say that I am? And they give dry answers. Some say you are Elijah, some say you’re John the Baptist, some say you’re one of the prophets. And even Peter says you are the Christ, the son of the living God. These are all dry answers, and I’m wondering if that’s what Jesus is really asking for, like in the John’s Gospel towards the end when he says, Simon, do you love me more than these?

And he says, yes, Lord, you know I love you. I’m wondering if that’s the name he wants, if that’s the name he’s looking for, and that’s the name he’s preached. And that’s what his message to us is; love. This comes from Saint Teresa of Avila, from her like Book of Reflection. It’s called the soliloquies, “Since my beloved is for me and I for my beloved, who will be able to separate two fires so enkindled? For the two fires have become one.

I think that’s Teresa’s term for who do people say that I am? Teresa of Avila says my beloved. I think that’s what Jesus is looking for. From us, this loving relationship of hearts enkindled, hearts joined, hearts inseparable, had cannot be separated because the two have become one.

Journeying from Here to There

A homily for Corpus Christi Sunday

Today we are celebrating Corpus Christi. Corpus Christi means the body of Christ. Oftentimes, the feast is called the Body and blood of Christ. We celebrate the Eucharist today. And oftentimes when I hear the words Corpus Christi, I think of Corpus Christi procession. It’s the day for processions where after mass. Oftentimes the Eucharist is put into a monstrance, and the monstrance is walked around inside the church or outside the church, or through the neighborhood or through the parking lot.

It’s a day of processions, and I think that’s a great thing. It’s the first thing that comes to mind, and it’s a great thing because oftentimes we want to make the Eucharist like something static out there, separate to be awed and to be, worshipped out there. And no, it’s meant to be dynamic and changing. And so to have a procession is exactly what the Eucharist is about, from going from one place to another place.

And even when we receive, at mass. We always start in the pew and we head towards the altar. We don’t head towards the back or towards the side, or the Eucharist doesn’t come to us. We walk to the altar representing our journey to fullness or our journey to heaven.

Saint Edith Stein, also called Saint Teresa Benedict of the Cross, was a critic of Naziism and the political conditions of Europe. She was a Jewish convert to Catholicism, became a Carmelite nun. And so she was rounded up and sent to Auschwitz eventually to die there. And she’s a martyr, considered a martyr in the church today. Here’s what she has to say about the Eucharist. Living in the Eucharistic way means coming out of one cell, out of the narrowness of one’s life, and growing into the immensity of life in Christ. That’s why I like this image of procession, of coming out of the narrowness of one’s life and growing into the immensity of life in Christ.

I don’t think we should be celebrating processions, that kind of procession only today. This feast of Corpus Christi. But every day, to grow more and more out of my narrowness and into the immensity of Christ.

A Touch is All It Takes

A homily for Trinity Sunday

It’s surprising how often people come in to talk to the priest, and they’re upset because their children or their family or some relative or a spouse has stopped going to church, and they kind of beat themselves up saying, what did I do wrong? Did I not catechize them enough? Traine them enough? Did I not example enough? And I said, well, there’s nothing you can do more.

That’s what I answered. There’s nothing you can do more because now it’s up to God, because what you can do is you’re teaching, the faith, the catechetical faith, the content of the faith. But it’s up to God to make it a living faith. And that requires God to touch that person. When God touches that person, it’s not a chatecital faith, like a book faith, on paper, faith, a dry faith. It becomes a living faith. And that’s how I interpret Trinity Sunday. Trinity Sunday is about the touch of God. And it depends on what we’ve got going in our life. How God touches us. Sometimes God touches us to inspire us, to move us forward, to like a mighty wind on the Pentecost, to blast us out of our fear, out of ourselves.

And that we call Holy Spirit. Or sometimes God touches us with, tenderness and mercy, touches our wounds, and invites us to touch wounds. It’s compassion. It’s empathy. It’s one who like us. And we call it the son. Jesus the Christ. And that’s the call ethic of the gospels, is to be a more and more like Christ, more empathetic, more compassionate, more hopeful, more selfless love.

And sometimes God touches us with, like, great support. But God holds us up when things are, direst or when things are darkest, when things are hard. And that’s the father. That’s the touch of the father. You know, people could say, well, that’s just modalism. But I think that’s when God, the Trinity becomes alive. It’s a modal way of thinking of God.

It’s God touching us and God on earth and inspiring us, turning us from paper, faith, dry faith to living faith. And we move forward from there. Here’s a quotation from Saint Therese. of Lesieux a Carmelite about 100 years ago. Her autobiography is called story of a soul. She’s sometimes described as the greatest saint of modern times, and the quotation goes, the night was so black I didn’t see, but I knew Jesus was there in my boat.
That’s touch. That’s trinity.

Triple-crossed

A homily for the Third Sunday in Lent

A number of years ago, I used to do mass for a cloistered Carmelite group of nuns. They had a big pilgrim day once a month, I’d always do that mass. When I was being reassigned, they did a little farewell for me. Gave me a card. Then they gave me this gift a cross. Kind of pretty, like a Bishop’s cross.

It had a hook at the top for putting the chain. Priests don’t wear a bishop’s cross. But I looked at it and said, what? A priest needs another cross. You know, priest get crosses all the time. Yet, I got another cross, but I put it on my bookshelves and there it stayed. And every now and then I would just grab it and dusted because it would get dusty.

One time when I did that, I noticed the top or the chain goes rotated. So I said, well, this is different. You know, it should be. So I rotated it and all of a sudden it sprung open. The cross sprung open. Oh, it’s got a secret compartment. This is cool. So I opened it and inside there’s another cross.

So I looked at that and I pulled that cross out and I’ve now have two crosses, the ornate exterior cross and the simple interior cross. But I notice that it has writing, very tiny writing so I scrutinized it terribly. And it said ex lignum Crucis domini nostri Jesu Cristo. That means in Latin from the wood of the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.

So I look in the center and sure enough, there’s another cross, a very tiny cross in the very center, made out of the wood of the true cross. Now this is getting really cool. I don’t think the sisters knew what they gave me. They probably regifted something that they got just to me, and it sat there for years.

The wood of the True Cross. Well, I think this is how we should do life, and our examination of life in ourselves is the more we look, the deeper we can go. And that’s what I think our readings call us. To go deeper, we have Jesus saying, you know that the Gentile blood was mixed, that their sacrifices by pilot were they guilty or the tower they fell, and people died, were the guilty.

And Jesus is saying, no, it doesn’t work that way. But oftentimes people very infantantly, infantiley say God works that way. If you’re good, God rewards you. If you’re bad, God punishes you, and Jesus is good. Beyond that, it’s a two year old mentality dealing with their parents. God is more than a parent of a two year old. But oftentimes if we think no God is that. God should reward us or punish us, it’s justice.

And if God is not just and it’s like, that’s not God, and who feels like God is what is God? God is nothing. God is dead. John of the cross says that that when we realize or we feel the image of God is incomplete or lacking or infantile and we throw it away, it’s as if God died. But what God is doing is that go deeper and look deeper, and you’ll find another cross, a deeper cross, you’ll find a deeper reality.

That’s the call. And so that’s what he’s even saying with the parable of the fig tree is it’s not just about produce, it’s about life. Let this fig tree live and then it will produce. But we can still say, but it’s not enough. Like if God is omniscient and all loving, why does evil exist? Why do bad things happen to good people?

I just can’t, why do children have cancer? This can’t be God. God can’t allow that. That kind of God is doesn’t exist. God will die according to Saint John of the cross again and again. It’s not God. I just feels that way. It’s your simplistic way of looking at God. And if we look even deeper, we see reality.

The real cross, the true cross in our lives. In God that I think it’s all about. Can we cut through the cross? How can we cut through fear? Can we cut through pain? Can we cut through abandonment? Can we cut through betrayal and love anyway, like Jesus on the cross says father, forgive them. They know not what they do.

Can we do that? That is Christlike love. That is divine love. That’s what we’re called to be. Divine love people. And that’s what I think Jesus calls us to in this gospel, not infantile images of God or infantile images of why evil exists, but a deep, rich knowing that God can even turn, as Saint Paul says to the good for those who love him.