Do Not Let Your Hearts Be Troubled

  

“Do not let your hearts be troubled.”  Those words of Jesus, in the Gospel, for many people, are precisely that, troubling.  When you’re sharing your bad news; when you’re weighed down with fear and anxiety, when the depression is deep; when the evil behavior and attitudes of others are seemingly on the march where the wicked prosper, the greedy succeed, and the arrogant increase their power and influence… In the face of any of these things, when we’re reminded of Jesus’ words – “Do not let your hearts be troubled,” it can be troubling if we sense that those words are being, on some level, dismissive.  That we’re being told to pretend things are okay when they’re not.  Or if we allow lies born out of guilt and shame to say to ourselves, “Well, my faith must be too weak” because I’m troubled.  Or if we turn it on God, it becomes anger and indifference where we tell ourselves, “God must not care about me.”

 

In America, we are experiencing a war. In the past 4 short months, 13 service men and women have been killed, over 380 wounded in Operation Epic Fury that results in humiliation, resentment, distrust, and a global economic crisis. So let me share this story about love and sacrifice.

 

Love requires sacrifice is not a message we hear these days. St. Gianna Beretta Molla was an Italian saint who died in 1962 and whose feast day we celebrate on April 28, was a pediatrician, wife, and mother In 1954, she married Pietro Molla and in 1961, they had two daughters and a son, and Gianna was pregnant with her fourth child. During her pregnancy, she developed a fibroma, a benign tumor, on her uterus. Doctors gave her a choice to have an abortion, have a complete hysterectomy, or remove only the fibroma. Gianna, determined to save her unborn baby’s life, chose to remove only the fibroma. Her daughter was born healthy, but Gianna died from septic peritonitis a week later. Saving her daughter’s life, cost her own. She was canonized by Pope St John  Paul II in 2004.

As she once said: “Love and sacrifice are closely linked, like the sun and the light. We cannot have love without suffering, and we cannot suffer without love.”

We continue to struggle with troubling things, like war, the threat of violence, assassination, terrorism, sickness, death and fear of being locked up in an ICE detection center.

 

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends who live in fear of being deported, taken from their home and family. May they find strength and courage from the words oif Jesus: “Do not let your hearts be troubled” and know that Gog indeed listens to your prayers simply have faith in Him.

 

 

 

Sheep Lonely No More

 

   When Bob's best friend passed away, the farmer left him all alone in a field for months. This elderly sheep is nearly blind from cataracts. He must have felt so lonely. But now, he’s living in Star Gazing Farm Animal Sanctuary, and is being introduced to new sheep and other rescued farmed animals. Bob is lonely no more.

 

There’s a curious tradition in the Church during the fifty-day celebration of Our Lord’s resurrection. The first three Sundays in Easter always focus on the risen Christ. We see Jesus meeting the astonished women as they leave the empty tomb. We see him appearing to the disciples and “Doubting Thomas.” We see him being made known in the breaking of the bread to the travelers on the road to Emmaus. In the last three Sundays, the focus shifts to Jesus packing his bags and getting ready to return to the Father, making sure that his buddies are ready to receive the Holy Spirit, start the Christian Church, and generally carry on without his physical presence. But in that middle fourth Sunday, we hear about sheep.

Jesus says, “I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep.” The gate has two functions: it keeps the sheep in the sheepfold where they are safe, and it lets them out to the pasture where they can feed and have abundant life. 

Sheep farmers lovingly point out that sheep enjoy a long and well-deserved reputation for being some of the dumbest animals our good Lord ever created. They’re not particularly adroit at decision-making, so they depend on the shepherd (and often the sheep dogs) to move them from one pasture to another and into and out of the sheepfold. Sheep need to keep moving, and much of a shepherd’s work is managing this locomotion.

A sheep farmer shared when he and the son, attempted to return an errant sheep belonging to a neighbor’s flock. This critter had somehow managed to fall in with the farmer’s sheep. When he attempted to capture it, it ran from them just as Jesus said a sheep would. It didn’t know their voices. Eventually, this farmer managed to grab the outlaw sheep by the fleece while his son put a bag over its head. Blinded, the sheep forgot to keep running away and just laid down. Without vision, sheep don’t move.

Can you guess who we are in Jesus’ sheep metaphor? Yup. That’s right: we’re the sheep. We need vision, and we have to keep moving. The Church is always reforming. Jesus is always leading us to new pastures.

I like to share a vision for the Church. In the years ahead we’ll get away from giant, expensive buildings. Many of our clergy in the Polish Catholic Church are bi-vocational and do not depend on the Church as a source of income. We’ll stop emphasizing individual salvation and we won’t worry about going to Heaven. Our job will be to love and serve our neighbors and bring the Kingdom of Heaven here to Earth.

I am sensing something of a renaissance like Divine Mercy in Las Vegas.  They are getting out of the sheepfold and reaching out to the community with their public events. They are inviting outsiders to participate. Currently, they host an evening grief support group for men and women and thinking about developing a model of worship for Saturday night fellowship. They also are planning for the Feast of Gaudeloupe and want to invite families from the community to attend the services and enjoy a supper at no cost to anyone.

Our Good Shepherd is calling His sheep out of the comfort of the sheepfold and into newer pastures. Jesus is also calling each of us as individuals. We’re called to come to the Gate—either to enter the fold and be part of the flock, or to get out of our comfort zone and explore how our lives can better serve and give glory to God.

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends, that we hear the voice of our Good Shepherd  telling us to keep moving safely in the knowledge that He is our shepherd, and we shall not be in want.

 

 

How Does God Come to You

  

 

Last Sunday when I came home after attending the cathedral Polka Mass, my wife Sue could barely walk. She had severe pain in her right knee. On Monday, she called the doctor and in an hour she was being examined by Dr. Steve. I was praying up a storm that nothing was broken., He diagnosed that it appeared to be a severe strain of the ligaments but he ordered an Xray to be sure nothing was broken. During this past week, Sue iced her knee, took her pain meds. On the way to the airport, she texted her litter mate, she volunteers at the animal shelter and spoke this message: “I am feeling much better.” When she looked at her phone to see what it recorded, it read: “I am feeling smashed”:

 

Stupid cell phone, she’s not drunk, but feeling better. Sometimes things happen that don’t meet our expectation. That’s what happening in our gospel story about two disciples who are walking away from Jerusalem and heading back to their home in Emmaus. We find them having a conversation about what happened at the crucifixion and they are sadly disappointed and afraid that they might be next.

 

Then this stranger joins them on the road, and they invite him to travel along. They get a little sarcastic because when the stranger asks them “what’s up” their response is a little rude when they say: “Where have you been?”

 

The key words in their conversation was the phrase: “They had hoped.”

They had put their trust in Jesus being a great prophet and teacher that he would liberate the Jews from slavery, from the Roman oppression. Instead, Jesus was crucified and laid in a tomb. Perhaps, they feared for their own lives and wanted to get out of town become they would be killed for being followers of Jesus.

 

Then, this stranger explains the Scriptures, how the Messiah had to suffer and die and rise again. They are impressed by his words and invite him to their home that includes dinner and when he breaks the bread, somehow their eyes are open and they recognize Jesus, He is truly alive. And what do we hear, he disappears.

 

So what does the road to Emmaus have to teach us? On the journey of life, there are many ups and downs. Our emotions range from elation one day to despair the next. For example, our lives are full of expectations, the same expectations - mistaken as they may be - which the two disciples had. "They had hoped" that Jesus would be the one who would restore the rule to Israel. They were disappointed to realize that this was not to be. We too have many expectations for our own lives. As our lives progress, many of the expectations which we originally had remain unfulfilled. Our lives move on in directions which we would never have guessed, almost as if they were being guided by something that is beyond us. We can respond to this unexpected direction in either of two ways: the way that the disciples did, i.e., with disillusionment because our expectations have not been met, or with contentment, because we know that there is a greater force at work, a force in whose hands we will always be safe.

 

On Thursday, I was asked to provide support to employees whose coworker died over the weekend. Tersea came to share that she had worked with Laura for three years as her assistant. Laura was a case worker who worked with disabled adults. She was a compassionate worker, but over the weekend something happened and on Monday the supervisor pulls in her team and shares that Laura suddenly died. How, when, why, no one knows. Teresa is in shock and crying and very sad. Teresa is a caregiver of her 90 year-old dad.  She is exhausted providing meals, cleaning the house, taking him to doctor appointments. So I help her make a plan to get some relief, to help clean the house and suggest take time for herself to rest. She has a brother who she could call to stay with her dad while she gets away with some girlfriends. She always wanted to go to Branson , Kansas for the music festival.

 

So when our expectations are not met, our health goes sour, our jobs are exhausting, our anxiety is out of control because of the war in Ukraine and Iraq, or we fear deportation, or the high price of gas and food and we can’t pay our rent.

So how do we achieve this contentment, this feeling of safety in the midst of all the adversity which life throws at us? We can achieve this contentment by realizing that Christ has stayed with us, just as he did with the two disciples. When we feel overwhelmed by life, when we feel that we just can't go on, when we feel all alone, we need to realize that we are not alone, that Christ is still with us. In the depths of our despair, we need to realize that Christ has been there before us.

How does Christ come to you? Where have you found Jesus? Where do you expect to find Jesus? You may not recognize the Lord at first but keep looking all the same.

Consider the following story. On Friday, I started my day at 6:30am EST, I met the bishop at 1pm to catch our plane from Buffalo to Chicago. At 4pm we are sitting at the airport waiting for next plane connection to Vegas, and Bishop John pulls out a doggie bag in which he made beef sandwiches and chips. I get us some water and soda and we are munching our snacks. This is where I see God. We land in Vegas at 9pm and Bishop John is standing in line for half an hour at the Budget car rental counter, this is where I see God again. We arrive at the Santa Fe Hotel and Monica meets us with our room key with a big welcome hug. This is where I see God. Finally in our room, it’s 2:30 in the morning our time. I have been up for the past 18 hours and we are both hungry so we check our room and head back on the elevator to find some grub, We spot a sub shop in the hotel and I order a beef cheese sandwich for both of us to share and chips and take back to our room. It’s 3am and these sandwiches taste delicious since we were starving. This is where I see God.

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends that when our expectations lead us to despair we do not give up hope. For God walks with us in because we know that there is a greater force at work, a force that is God’s love in whose hands we will always be safe.

A Faith That Leads to Maturity

     

It’s something of a tradition that the gospel passage we get for Easter 2 is always this story of “Doubting Thomas (John 20:19-31). However, you can hardly blame Thomas for being a little skeptical. It’s not like people get raised from the dead every day!

Yes, poor Thomas looks like a doubting, faithless doofus in John’s gospel. He, therefore, stands in stark contrast to Peter, who looks like a doofus in all four gospels. I mean, how would you like it if the one thing everyone remembered about you was the fact you shot your big pie hole off about being faithful to Jesus even unto death, and then—the second things got a little uneasy—you denied you even knew the guy? And not once, but three times?

I’d hate to have been Good Friday Peter, wouldn’t you? The guy must’ve been feeling a boatload of emotions, and none of them were good. In a braggadocio moment the night before he swore he’d stand by Jesus even if he had to die for him. He was ready to draw his sword and do battle to protect his rabbi, but when the temple police slapped the cuffs on Jesus, Peter ran away like the others. Then he denied he was Jesus’ disciple. I don’t think this was calculated. I think fear just oozed out of him before he knew what he was saying. 

The gospels tell us Peter wept bitterly that night. I imagine him slumped in some dark, dirty corner of Jerusalem ally, his head between his knees, his body heaving with sobs. What were those tears about? Shame and self-loathing when a man sees himself as being weak and cowardly? Disgust at his own hypocrisy? Grief for the certain death of the friend, teacher, and leader whom he so dearly loved? Utter despair and disillusionment for the movement which promised to be about joy and liberation, but which has turned out to be about nothing at all?

But then came Easter. Peter encountered the risen Jesus and something in him was resurrected too. Peter became like an addict who has conquered addiction. Like a woman escaping an abusive partner. Like a hostage set free. In the power of Christ’s resurrection, he shed the demons of fear, shame, guilt, and self-doubt and became the rock Jesus had prophesied he’d become. He’d become a real adult—whatever his chronological age might’ve been at that moment.

It’s believed he eventually left Judea and Galilee to share the joy he found in Jesus around the Mediterranean world. His journey took him to Antioch in Syria, across the sea to Corinth in Greece, and finally to Rome. 

By the time the epistle we call 1 Peter was written (probably sometime in the late 90’s of the Common Era), Peter would be dead. It’s doubtful the Galilean fisherman could write in such sophisticated Greek, so the letter was probably composed by a disciple who had known Peter in Rome. 

The letter would’ve been written to that Roman church, and I’m sure that congregation could relate to Peter’s story. Some of them may have lived through the Great Fire of 64 CE and seen everything they owned destroyed. They may have known the terror of flaming death all around them with no place to run, escaping only by crawling through the sewer. They certainly knew the grief of losing beloved leaders as both Peter and Paul would be executed by the imperial authorities. They also knew disappointment as they waited for Jesus’ return and Jesus appeared to be taking his good, sweet time about coming back. Worst of all, they were living under persecution for their faith, marginalized and even criminalized for loving the Savior they’d never met in the flesh.

But through all of this, they received the outcome of their faith just as their leader Peter had done. Some may have been peasants, and some were even slaves, but they loved Jesus and knew Jesus loved them. In turn, they could love one another. They could rejoice even in their suffering because the earthly authorities which took Peter from them could not take away their baptism, their love, or their hope. 

What is the outcome of our faith? I like to think it’s real maturity—a maturity which leads us to be like those early Christians who so resonated with Peter’s story.

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends that we are to be a community of love; forgiveness for ourselves and others; courage in the face of chaos, doubt, and uncertainty; selflessness; and, finally, peace. May your faith bring you to that peace, my friends. 

 

Easter at Divine Mercy One Year Ago

  

I asked the congregation to follow me over to the side altar where Fr Erick had placed a stature of Jesus lying in the tomb. I uncovered the stature and whispered: “How could this have happened.” Then I shared that this moment was the darkness in our lives and shared a sad story that Fr Erick and I were informed on Wednesday that a parishioner caring for her mom in her home had died and went to heaven.

However, I pointed to the beautiful painting of the image that showed the resurrection of the Divine Mercy of Jesus. Yes, there is darkness in our lives but let me share some wonderful moments of the resurrection.

On Saturday, Fr. Erick asked me to baptize a child. Thinking it would be a baby, instead I was pouring the waters of baptism over the forehead of three-year Mateo. Fr. Matt was baptizing little Matthew and told his parents and godparents that he is now a child of God. Lots of smiles. A true Resurrection moment.

Then Fr. Erick asked me to join him to celebrate a renewal of marriage vows for a couple from Mexico to be held at the wedding chapel in a casino. Fr, Erick offered the traditional Mexican blessings that included the rosary lasso, candles and coins asking God to bless thirty years of fidelity love and devotion. However, the casino wedding coordinator told Fr Erick he had only one hour to complete the ceremony, in another words watch you time.

This wedding coordinator shared she lived in New York City and I replied I’m from Buffalo. Instant connection, but then she asked if after the ceremony I would offer her and her staff a blessing. When the couple and family were having pictures taken, the coordinator brought in seven members of the wedding staff to whom I offered this blessing.

 “May God bless each of you for the joy you bring couples and families celebrating their union, may God keep you and your family safe and in good health.”

As they raised their heads they each were wiping tears from their eyes I believe this was another resurrection moment because they realized that God loves them as his sons and daughters and will be to help them in their times of darkness.

Yes, one more resurrection moment occurred in the grocery store where Fr. Erick picked up 150 little bread loaves to give to his parishioners on Easter morning. A lady who had cancer was checking out and Fr. Erick said I had blessed her last Easter. Thankfully, she was in remission. She came to give me a hug and more tears and I offered a blessing for continued healing.

Yes, there is darkness that may last a day or for many seasons, but we need to be aware of the moments where God makes his love known and that comes whenever we offer God’s compassion and mercy.

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends this Easter. May we all enjoy the truth that Christ is Risen. Christ is Risen, Indeed!

 

 

 

It's a Dirty Job

  

Did you ever hear anyone say, “It’s a dirty job, but someone’s got to do it?” What’s the dirtiest job you’ve ever had?

My dirtiest job occurred yesterday after a historic rain storm. The photo above shows the damage to our driveway hill as the flood waters created foot deep trenches that prevented us from driving. So, with shovel in hand I started to fill in the trenches with stone that washed over the side of the hill. Four hours later I had the driveway hill filled in with stone so we could drive on the hill.

However, last night another major rain storm came over our region. This morning, I walked back to the hill and this is what I discovered. I was in shock but got out the shovel and started filling in with more stones. 

 

I called Brad, my guardian angel builder, who understood my dilemma and who contacted Cam, the excavator. After another four hours and two new underground drains the driveway was back in usable condition. 

My boots were muddy and my hands bloody from hauling stones, but somebody had to do this job. That reminds me of other dirty jobs.

Collecting garbage, stocking grocery shelves, milking cows, picking crops, cleaning hotel rooms, bathing our feeble loved ones. These jobs don’t pay a lot of money, and they don’t get you invited to black-tie fundraisers. But someone has to do them because the people who perform these tasks are very important and special who choose to do these dirty jobs.

But much more shocking than shoveling stone into a damaged driveway is the image of our Lord and Savior on his knees, washing the dirty, sweaty feet of his all-too-often clueless disciples—even the one who he knew was about to rat him out to the authorities. Our Holy Thursday gospel tells us Peter was pretty freaked out seeing his beloved and esteemed rabbi doing the dirty work assigned to a slave or the lowest person on any household totem pole. I’ll bet the others were weirded out by this too, but the evangelist doesn’t tell us. But Jesus explained this act of service—an act others might see as degrading—was a demonstration of how he expects us to live our lives. We are to love as he loves: without hierarchy or judgment. We are to love others as ourselves. We can no longer demonize or vilify. We can’t say the poor deserve what they get. We can’t look down on anyone. We are to love, forgive, assist, and share.

We’re told that as Jesus broke the bread that night, he gave thanks. You’d wonder what he was giving thanks for, considering he was about to be betrayed, abandoned, arrested, beaten, mocked and crucified. But Jesus was thankful. I imagine he was thankful for God’s unfailing presence even in the midst of chaos and grief. And he was thankful for the ones he loved, for the disciples to whom he demonstrated a radical form of servant-love. As Jesus and the disciples ate that last meal in remembrance of God’s faithfulness, so we eat it now in remembrance of Jesus’ self-emptying love for us.

We call the night when we share this feast Maundy Thursday. It’s the night when he gave us two commandments. First, that we eat this meal to remember not only God’s power to deliver God’s people, but to remember how Jesus suffered to deliver us. Second, when we come together around this table, we are reminded of Jesus’ command to love one another as servants—even if that means sometimes we have to do the dirty work.

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends. A blessed Three Days, my friends. May Christ’s love shine in your heart. Special thanks to my guardian angels, Brad, Cam and Chris for repairing the rain storm damaged driveway.

 

Choose a Donkey Over a Horse

     

Jesus rides into Jerusalem on a donkey. Question, why would Jesus choose to come to town on a donkey?

The donkey teaches disciples, then and now, how much bravery it takes to follow the suffering servant. It takes courage to choose destiny over fear. 

First, the disciples learned to serve with humility. Sometimes I think it was hard to be a disciple. They had an inside relationship with Jesus. The Gospels say he even gave them the power to preach and heal the sick in his name.

They watched the power of God, and witnessed the miraculous regularly. It’s hard to go from the main actor on stage to a stagehand behind the curtain. It must have confused them when Jesus said, “Go ahead of me, there you’ll find a donkey tied, bring it back to me.”

Humility is demanding. Instead of working miracles and healing the sick, we find the disciples on “donkey duty.” Heal the sick, of course. Work miracles, absolutely. Humble themselves for “donkey detail” was a tough pill to swallow. 

The disciples seem confused about how to retrieve a donkey. Jesus has to tell them how, “Go, find it. Bring it back to me.” Lessons in humility are tough. Jesus makes sure our souls are not always center stage. He knows it’s not good for the soul to continually be popular. When we become celebrities, it generates cult worshipers instead of followers of Jesus. “Humble yourself and go find a donkey.”

The second lesson the disciples learned was to deny power and celebrity. Humility denies the enticement of power and popularity.  In the 1^stcentury, the temptation to choose power was ever-present. The Jews expected a King. A man who would liberate the Holy Land from Roman control. They hoped it would be Jesus. 

Here is where the Gospel reading of the donkey becomes fascinating: A few days before Jesus entered the city, Pilate entered on a horse. It was a message to the Jews that Rome’s power over them surpassed their hopes for a Messiah. Pilate chose a horse. Jesus chose a donkey. Jesus wasn’t in orate chariots pulled by well-bred horses. There was no sword at his side nor armor on his chest. He did not enter the city gates as a show of force. He entered as a servant on a beast of burden. 

This is what Jesus expected of his disciples. He refused power, and he didn’t accept a throne. He knew he was there to suffer for the sake of others. Yet Jesus laid his power down to pick up his cross. 

What did the disciples learn on Palm Sunday? They realized that humility is the way of the Kingdom, and popularity is the way of the world. Then they learned that a servant lives and dies for others. 

Servants are not popular. The crowds that followed Jesus into Jerusalem quickly diminished when he disappointed them.  I’ve learned the crowd usually leaves when they are disheartened. Few stick around and heroically choose love. The crowds will usually return to Egypt before they walk through the desert of disappointment. Disappointment tests life, faith, hope, and even love. When we expect a horse and get a donkey, we’re tempted to walk away.

Did Jesus deserve a horse? Of course he did. But a servant chooses a donkey – the way of a cross – instead of the horse of a conqueror.  

The metaphor of the donkey answers the question, “who is this Jesus?” He is the one who dies so others can live. The horse, Pilate’s horse, always tempts our hearts to say, “I did better than the rest of my friends. I’m smarter, and I have more natural gifts, God favored me.”

The donkey, Jesus’s donkey, offers our hearts the chance to say, “How can I choose love over pride? How can I use my gifts to serve others? How can I share my blessings with the world?”

The question we should ask ourselves is “what transportation will we choose to carry us through life?”

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends that during this difficult time in our country, we choose to be a servant instead of a conqueror. During Holy Week reach out to a neighbor or someone you know in need and lend a helping hand.