First Sunday of Lent

Sixth Sunday in O.T.

As you can imagine, before being ordained as a priest or deacon a person must get a certain amount of structured education. That’s one of the main responsibilities of seminaries and diocesan diaconate programs. In other words, there is a certain amount of “stuff” that the Church feels we must know in order to fulfill our ministerial duties in the best way possible. And this “knowledge” spans many areas --- theology, philosophy, Church history, Scripture, Sacraments… Some people in formation love these sorts of things and others would like to be able to leapfrog over some of these requirements. But in either case, one kneels before the bishop “knowing” a lot more than he did before he began the whole process. This can be both a blessing and a curse. In one sense, it’s important to have all this stuff in our heads. It helps us preach. It helps us teach. It helps us say the right things at weddings and funerals and in the confessional and at a person’s bedside. But the “curse” of having had a lot of formal education in the faith is that we can sometimes get all caught up in our heads over these sorts of matters. In other words, “faith” can start to become just an assortment of statements or explanations or arguments. Faith, in these circumstances, becomes just “thinking the right stuff”. The challenge is to allow our intellectual knowledge to move our hearts to act in love. “. . . so that your faith might rest not on human wisdom but on the power of God.” So says Paul to the people of Corinth. He starts this particular passage by telling them (essentially) that he knows that they haven’t accepted the faith because of his words, that is, because of some sort of clever or persuasive argument. Rather, he knows that the biggest difference he made in their hearts and minds was through his actions --- what he calls a “demonstration of Spirit and power”. Put simply --- words weren’t the difference. Actions were. The “power of God” was made visible through the good he was able to do (whatever those things were). In Paul, they sort of “saw” what “faith” looked like (not just “heard” what it was supposed to be). Which are we? Are we people who mostly “talk” about our faith, or do we actually demonstrate the “power” of it? Of course, the power of a faithful life doesn’t really look like power at all. It looks like what we heard from Isaiah in today’s First Reading --- feeding the hungry, sheltering the oppressed and the homeless, and clothing the naked. Not only is this the only sort of power God seems to care about --- the power of love --- it is also the only real evidence that we have any sort of authentic faith at all. We can say the right things, we can hold the right thoughts, but if those things don’t manifest themselves in the choices we make --- our faith is really just an illusion. These are pretty hard things to hear. It’s easier to believe that we just need to give our assent to the things the Church teaches and we are being faithful. It’s a lot harder to accept the challenge from God (or shall I say “command”) to give of ourselves in the complete, selfless way he asks --- by being radically merciful, and wastefully generous, and relentlessly forgiving and sincerely humble, and unstoppably kind. And these are not little, insignificant, ordinary things. They are powerful things. Life-changing things. God-things. And the difference they can make in the lives of others and in the transformation of the world should not be underestimated. In fact, this is precisely how we become . . .Salt. The kind of people who make every situation a little better, a little more hopeful, a little more beautiful, a little more uplifting. Is that really who we are? Or do we sometimes tear others down? Or make them feel less than they are? Or fill them with cynicism and hopelessness? Living out our faith is how we become light. The kind of people who brighten the lives of others. And bring warmth to their hearts and souls. And provide light to dispel whatever darkness they might be experiencing, whatever darkness is making it difficult for them to be the person God created them to be? Is that who we are? Or do we sometimes make people stay in the shadows? Or make someone’s world a little colder? Or make others feel that they aren’t as loved by God as us? Each of our lives says something, whether we want it to or not. And what we “say” with our lives comes out most clearly by what we actually do in our lives, how we actually treat people. And it doesn’t matter if we believe all the right things, or say all the right prayers. What please God is the person who lets God’s grace transform their actions into life-giving, powerful instruments of God --- the kinds of things that make us salt and light, the kinds of things that help make the world the beautiful, hopeful place God wants it to be. So let’s not get all caught up in our heads. Rather, let’s use what we believe to shape what really matters --- the choices we make. For as Paul reminds us --- that’s where our faith should truly rest. 

Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time- Yr. A – Feb. 1, 2026 The “A”-Attitudes for discipleship. Readings: Matthew 5:1–12 - Dcn. Bill Kenney Sibling rivalry is something many of us have had the “joy” of living through. Growing up with five sisters, there was plenty of rivalry to go around. My sister Linda and I were fierce competitors for the praise and recognition of others for our schoolwork and grades. It was a (“mostly”) healthy contest as it propelled us both to do our best. Even at the tender age of five, Linda once told our Mom upon hearing today’s Gospel, “’B’-attitudes? I don’t want the ‘B’-attitudes, I only want ‘A’-attitudes!” …and she always did earn the “A”-attitudes! As we grew , the childish competition and pride waned from our early years. Our values and aspirations took on a bigger picture and significance as we grew to understand today’s Gospel in the light of Christ. In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus proclaims his beatitudes, the virtues and rewards for a truly blessed life in anticipation of God's reign. It was yet another way of Jesus proclaiming, “the Kingdom of God is at hand” to all disciples who will follow his call back to the Father. As with many of Jesus’ teachings and parables, the beatitudes are counter-intuitive in nature because they declare blessings on those commonly viewed as unfortunate or weak. These beatitudes fly in the face of worldly expectations and secular social norms. How can the meek, inherit the land? Society tells us you have to be a go-getter, aggressive in life; lie, cheat, and steal to get ahead. Peacemakers are those in power, flexing their muscle, wealth, and know-how, attaining “peace through strength”, unlike powerless children. Contrary to our temporal world, Jesus’ beatitudes describe an upside-down kingdom where humility, compassion, and righteousness are valued above worldly power. Each beatitude invites us to view our standards and our way of life from a different perspective: a perspective of God’s Kingdom. As his disciples, we are called to learn wisdom from Jesus’ life lessons found in the beatitudes. We are to direct our faith and actions to the Kingdom of God, not to this temporal world. We must live in the world, but not be enslaved by the world. When our desire to belong to the world outweighs our desire to belong to the world that is to come, our spiritual compass is misguided, not pointing us to Jesus Christ. A true disciple must be a good student- one who can learn from the life of Jesus and his teachings throughout this period of Ordinary Time. A true disciple must be humble, open, and willing to be coached with wise guidance. · Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. In what ways have I become too self-righteous, too self-absorbed? Do I boast in myself or “…in the Lord”? How can I better humble myself before the Lord; placing my life more fully in God’s hands such as during Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament? · Blessed are the clean of heart, for they will see God. How has my sinfulness blinded me from seeing God’s truth and will for my life? How long has it been since my last Confession? · Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. What areas or habits in my life are sources of heartache to myself or others? Do I mean it when I extend my hand and say, “Peace be with you”? Through his beatitudes, Jesus calls the meek, the lowly, the persecuted, the merciful, and all sinners to realize his merciful love and the rewards of eternal life with him. It is very difficult for the proud, the arrogant, the rich and powerful nobles of this world to open their hearts in humility and fear of the Lord. Yet they too are called, for God’s mercy is abundant and freely given. Discipleship through these beatitudes is a transformative process. From the sacraments we are empowered as children of God to daily live our faith through proclaiming the Gospel, worshipping at Mass, and through regular reception of the Holy Eucharist. We need that power, not of strength and control, but a Spiritual power of inner attitude to become meek and child-like, trusting and relying on Almighty God’s mercy, grace, and will to be done on earth, in our hearts, and as it is in heaven. As disciples of Christ, we are to act as instruments of his love in everything we do and it is through this participation that we share in the divine life. The true presence of Christ which you receive today in the Holy Eucharist, is pure love that dwells within you; which pours out in all your thoughts, words, and actions; which shines the light of Christ to others and reveals you to be a Christian, a disciple of Christ. May we truly be good learning disciples of Christ as we contemplate and live his lessons of wisdom in these beatitudes. The beatitudes are meant to comfort us, not scare us, because they promise that, if we follow Christ and are shunned by the world, we need not worry because our ultimate happiness does not lie in this world, but in the kingdom to come. They are not just good “B”-attitudes, but the best “A”-attitudes transforming our lives, for our salvation and for the glory of God.

Most of us like to win? In the workplace, on the field, in the classroom, in the dating scene, in our social circle, in arguments --- pretty much everywhere. Whatever the situation, most of us enjoy finishing number one, enjoy the view from our perch above those around us. In fact, many of us presume that we continually “win” at things that can’t even be measured. We often consider our opinions to be more intelligent than the opinions of others. We consider our tastes to be better. Our sense of humor is better. Our personality is better. Our way of looking at things is better. And we probably believe we have more common sense than most other people too. Yes --- not only do we always like “winning” at various activities and endeavors in life, we often presume that we’re already best when it comes to all sorts of things. And with our desire to be great (or our belief that we are already there) can come a feeling of entitlement --- that somehow we DESERVE a little more than the next guy, deserve certain advantages and perks and breaks that not everyone gets. Many of us feel we deserve to get out of the ticket we got for speeding. And we deserve special attention and freebees and such in restaurants and stores. And we certainly deserve more friends and more attractive mates and higher-paying jobs and better medical care than the average person. In other words, many of us (at times) don’t feel we should just get what other people get --- believe that somehow our path, our behavior, our way of living should ensure a kind of life most people would be envious of. “A man is coming after me who ranks ahead of me . . .” So says John on the banks of the Jordan River. It must not have been easy for John to utter those words. After all, he was getting a lot of attention. People were interested in him. Interested in his way of life and what he had to say. And probably not many people in that time and place could claim that, not many people were getting that sort of acclaim and “popularity”. But John wouldn’t buy into any of that. Would we have? Or more importantly, do we? You see, John was not blinded by his “fame” nor blinded by a need for attention. Rather, he knew the proper relationship between himself and his God, knew the difference between what he was about and what God was about, knew the difference between his role in the lives of the people who came to him and the role of the One they had longed for. Put simply, John knew that whatever apparent importance he seemed to have - paled in importance to that of Jesus --- someone he probably knew well, someone he might have grown up with, someone that might have looked “ordinary” but was far from it. And John was perfectly fine with, or should I say, actually demanded that he not remain number one in the hearts and minds of his followers. His priorities were in order --- ensuring that he would not make the mistake of confusing himself for the divine, himself for his God. That might seem like an exaggerated way of describing this scene from long ago. Yet, one could argue that nearly every straying from the path, every moral failure --- every sin --- is essentially a confusing of the relationship between ourselves and our God, a kind of substituting one for the other, a placing of ourselves at the top of the pyramid. And God? Well, he’s there somewhere --- but not where he should be. And so what happens is that we start pursuing our wants instead of God’s. We start valuing our opinions the most (and try getting our beliefs to “fit” into them). We start clinging to the things of this world a little too tightly, rationalizing our choices so we never have to feel bad about them. We start seeing the world as we want to see it, and start seeing others as we want to see them. And our thoughts? Well, they become heavily fixated on fleeting earthly pursuits that we believe will make us happy. In other words --- the One who clearly ranks ahead of us, the One upon whom we should consider ourselves entirely dependent, the One who should get our attention, our obedience, our love, our complete selves --- has been pushed to the back. We’ve essentially placed ourselves at the front of the line. I’m not saying that maintaining a proper relationship with our God is easy. It’s not. If it was, there would be no sin. Yet make no mistake about it --- there is no truly faithful way of living without self-emptying, no true discipleship without surrendering, no path to God that omits acts of sacrifice, kindness, compassion and love. And no salvation without a man from Galilee laying down his life. That’s the pattern. That’s the path. That’s the way. John knew it. Jesus showed it. Our Parish Patron, St. Agnes, whose feast we celebrate today, also knew this holy way, as she remained faithful to her commitment in choosing Jesus Christ as her only Spouse. St. Agnes died a virgin martyr at the young age of 12 or 13. We would be wise to turn to her often for her intercession and encouragement as we strive for holiness. It’s up to us to continue imitating Jesus, continually putting others before ourselves --- knowing that, in doing so, we are giving our God his rightful place in our lives. “A man is coming after me who ranks ahead of me . . .” May that not simply be something a strange man in the desert said long ago, but rather still be what we say, believe, and live out today. St. Agnes pray for us! 

Baptism of Jesus 1-11-26

Almost all of us at one time or another have been in a job interview, either as the interviewee or the interviewer. And no matter how the interview process has evolved over the years, it remains essentially the same at its core. In the end --- it’s about the interviewer trying to find out if the applicant has what it takes --- has the right talents, the right work ethic, the right experience, the right gifts for the job. It’s all about trying to figure out what that particular individual “brings to the table”. Today, on Epiphany, we once again hear the story of the magi, who came from the east to give homage to the newborn king. And as you know, they didn’t come empty-handed. They came bearing gifts (in this case, gifts representing certain things --- kingship, divinity, and death). And when you think about it --- these are gifts the baby Jesus really doesn’t “need”. Not in the least. Yet, they are gifts the MAGI need to give. It’s easy to think that our God “needs” certain things from us. Yet, when we reflect on that idea it’s easy to see how that can’t really be the case. God has no “needs” in the way we usually use that word. God is God. God can do whatever God wants to do - in any way God chooses to do it - on a timetable of his choosing. And so God in no way can be diminished by our failure to give him anything --- no matter what that particular thing or gift is. Yet, maybe the gifts God desires are precisely what WE need to give for our growth in holiness. Sometimes we hear these stories from long ago and have a hard time connecting them to our individual lives, have a hard time finding their meaning for our day-to-day decisions and responsibilities and routine. Is that the case with this story? Is it just something interesting from long ago, or is it more than that? What do the magi have to do with us? Like the magi, we will soon be on a journey. Ours will be much shorter than theirs. Ours will not involve danger or a star. The length of that journey will be determined by what pew you are in --- for the journey the majority of us will make is simply up the aisle --- from an ordinary place to the foot of a miracle. And the object, the destination of our journey is the same as the magi’s. We come to gaze on our God, to draw near to him, to “commune” with him, to worship him. Do we, like the magi, come with something to give, or do we come empty-handed? Many of us have a hard time believing that we have anything of value to give God. What could my gift possibly be? I guess I could give him the gift of my prayers --- but sometimes my mind wanders and I wind up thinking about some task I have later. I guess I could give him my generosity --- but I know that most of the time I worry about myself more than others. I guess I could give him my kind heart --- but I’ll probably do something unkind before the day is done (maybe even before I exit the church!). I could give him the gift of extending forgiveness and mercy to others --- but there are some grudges and hurts which I’m not willing to part with. I guess what I’m saying is --- all I have to give is my flawed, imperfect, weak, sinful self. And that’s precisely the gift God wants. And that’s the gift we NEED to give and place in the offering basket each time it comes before us and journeys to the Altar. We offer ourselves to imitate Jesus even though we know we can’t do it completely (or come even close). We offer ourselves to embody God-things even though we often act un-God-like more than we’d like to admit. We offer ourselves to do extraordinary things even though we know we are ordinary. And we offer ourselves to forgive things that seem unforgivable, and love people who seem unlovable, and show compassion and mercy and kindness in situations that make us want to show something else altogether. In other words, the gift of our whole selves is what we need to give and what the world needs from us. The world will become a better place because we have chosen to become a better person. And the world will be a kinder place because we have chosen to be a kinder person. And the world will be more forgiving, merciful and compassionate because we have chosen to be all of those things --- things we give to God as a gift --- not simply to the God who is deserving of it, but as a gift to our flawed selves and the flawed world we call home. And we don’t have to be perfect to do remarkable, powerful, loving, transformative things. We just need to walk up the aisle with empty hands, but not empty-handed --- ready to make an offering of ourselves to God who is offering himself to us in a divine gift exchange. So as we remember a gift-giving journey from long ago we ask ourselves … what we are bringing to Christ, the Eucharist, today?

Welcome, everyone, to the World Day of Peace! I know that some of you are thinking, “What did he just say? World Day of Peace? Is that some new-fangled thing?” No, we’re actually celebrating the 58 th World Day of Peace --- so it’s been around for quite a while. Yet, you are almost certainly here to celebrate the Solemnity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God. We sometimes forget that the two days coincide. And no, the World Day for Peace is not a “secular” celebration, not something we can sort of ignore or pay little attention to because we have something “more important” to celebrate this day. It’s actually a day set aside by the Catholic Church (by Pope Paul VI specifically) to invite the faithful to consider what peace is, how true peace comes about, and what role we can play in helping make it a reality (individually and collectively). And of course, today is a day to pray for peace --- in a deep, sincere, trusting, hopeful way. Two seemingly different, unrelated things deliberately scheduled for the exact same calendar day. That certainly can’t really be an accident. So, what do the two have to do with each other? Let’s take Mary first. After all, that’s really why all of you are here today. As you may or may not know, the title “Mother of God” was disputed in the early Church by some. The faithful (clergy and laity alike) wondered if it was ok to talk about Mary in that way. The matter had to be settled at a Church council --- the Council of Ephesus in 431 A.D. And quite honestly --- the focus of the debate was not really Mary. It was Jesus. Who was he? What was he? Divine? Human? Sort-of divine? Sort-of human? You get the idea. Out of that council came the approval for referring to Mary as Theotokos (Greek for God-bearer). By doing so the Church was affirming two things --- that Jesus was not simply human, but also divine, and that Mary indeed gave birth to him. In a certain sense what they were affirming was the God within --- the God Mary said yes to, the God Mary carried, and the God Mary birthed into the world. The God within. What a beautiful image, a beautiful thought, a beautiful reality. God came to his people not despite them, not separated at some distance from them, but actually through one of them. Mary was a channel of grace --- “full” of grace --- full of the living God who came to change absolutely everything. It’s really quite unbelievable if you think about it. The Prince of Peace. And this title of Jesus illuminates maybe the most obvious link between the two celebrations for this day. You see, if we do indeed want peace, if we are willing to strive for peace and work for peace, if we want more than anything else to make it a more visible reality in our world we must be able to recognize the God within. And I’m not talking about looking inward. (Although that is certainly a place we must be able to find our God.) I’m talking about looking outward. I’m talking about seeing God within . . . . The person I don’t like. The person who is nothing like me. The person who supports things I can’t support. The person who doesn’t live as I choose to live. The person who doesn’t vote the same as I do. The person who doesn’t pray the way I pray. The person who doesn’t like me. The person who hurt me, or betrayed me, or deserted me. The person I would never want one of my kids to wind up with. The person I call my enemy. The living God has no limitations, no restrictions, no conditions. That means that not only is it possible for God to dwell in me, it’s possible for God to dwell in every single person. In fact, in faith, we believe he isn’t absent from any of us. He dwells in the strong and the weak, the learned and the uneducated, the rich and the poor, the Republican and the Democrat, the law-abiding citizen and the criminal, the sinner and the saint. And if we can’t see God in those places, in those people, we’ll probably never have the “peace” we desire, never experience the “peace” God desires for each of us and the world. But if we can recognize God in others --- just as we recognize God…Jesus…within Mary --- maybe, just maybe we’ll be able to bring a little peace to a world in desperate need of it. Who is that person you can’t see God in? Who are those people? Let’s look a little deeper, a little more clearly through eyes of faith, and start recognizing the One we all have in common, the One whose presence within each of us makes our differences seem a little less important, our disputes a little more foolish, and true peace possible. Mary, Mother of God (and Our Mother), pray for us. 

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What a joy it is to gather and celebrate such an incredible mystery. And we need mysteries. It seems that with each passing generation fewer and fewer things remain a mystery, as more and more things about our world get “figured out” or “discovered” or “explained”. Think for a moment about your great grandparents and what the world was like when they were the age you are now. And think specifically about all the things we know today that they didn’t know, all the incredible advancements in science and technology that would seem like magic to them, all the stuff that was a mystery to them that we now have explanations for. With each passing generation many “mysteries” from the past vanish. It seems like only a few remain. Which category does Christmas fall into? I wonder sometimes if much of what we believe (in faith) loses a certain specialness with each passing year. Things that amazed us when we were younger start feeling common, ordinary, routine. A perfect example of this is the Creed. Most of us have said it so many times that we no longer even think about the words. It’s sort of like a kind of spiritual alphabet we just say but rarely contemplate. And yet, every sentence of it is remarkable, every sentence of it a profound declaration, every sentence a mystery that can never be explained away, every sentence of it something that ought to astonish us. Is Christmas still that? Or has it become a little too familiar, a little too common? Does Christmas (after having been part of our lives for so long) now make perfect sense? Or does it still have the power to make us realize just how amazing our God is? In other words, does it still make us want to shout, I can’t believe that God . . . . . . loves us that much --- so much so that healing our broken world was (and is) his ultimate concern. . . . that God refuses to remain at a distance --- wanting instead to be in an intimate communion with all of creation. . . . that God chose not to simply “appear” to his sons and daughters, but actually became one of them. . . . that God refused to force himself into the world --- choosing instead to ask the cooperation of, the “yes”, of a humble woman from an ordinary town in a sleepy corner of nowhere. . . . that God is able to show us not simply who HE is, but who WE are called to be. . . . that God came to us meekly, quietly, unassumingly, in a vulnerable way --- showing us that true power is not what we think it is. . . . that God helped us realize he acts through Creation --- through water, oil, bread and wine, giving you and me a chance cooperate with his plan and help transform the world into the beautiful, loving, peaceful place he created it to be. The mystery of Christmas teaches us all of that --- reveals to us a God unlike any god ever thought of or imagined, reveals to us a God who human beings never believed could be possible. Our God is the opposite of ordinary. The opposite of predictable. The opposite of disinterested. The opposite of vengeful. The opposite of distant. Rather, he’s a God who wanted (and wants) to be near us, wants to be one of us, wants to guide us, wants to save us, wants to dwell with us --- not just alongside us, but within us --- within every human heart open to his grace, open to the promptings of the Holy Spirit and the nourishment of the Eucharist. What a God we have! And so, as you gather with family and friends and do all the things you usually do, all the usual traditions, all the usual foods and songs, all the usual exchanging of presents --- make sure that you don’t exclude the miracle and mystery of Christmas. Think about the meaning of today’s Feast --- not just the meaning of that day long ago, but the meaning of God Dwelling among us and within us has for each of our lives in this time and place. Once you start to really unpack this mystery, once you start to “unwrap” this divine gift --- you’ll find that there is simply more and more mystery to be in awe of, more and more miracle to be grateful for. And don’t try to “explain” it. Just enjoy it. Embrace it. Live it. Share it. May Jesus, the divine eternal gift of our Christmas Eucharist dwell in our soul each and every day.