Saturday, March 3, 2012

You Might Be Happy: Reflections on the Priesthood

On my 17th Anniversary of Ordination to the Priesthood, I came across this sermon from 1995, eight weeks after I was ordained. I was asked to preach on "Call by Name" Sunday, a vocations program at my home parish, Saint Andrew's in Roswell, Georgia.

While I have grown wiser and perhaps more concise (3000 words!) over the years, this sermon still reflects my feelings about the priesthood and the wonderful years the Lord has given me. It tells a bit of my story and asks all of us to reflect on our own vocations.


Fr. Paul Williams, pastor, Saint Joseph's, Dalton, Georgia, March 4th, 2012

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Homily, 3rd Sunday Easter, C (St Andrew, Call by Name, 4/28-29/1995)

This past week has been for me a time of “last things”, as I have finally finished my seminary studies. My last paper ever. My last class, ever. My last exam, ever. The last time I would gather with brother seminarians for 7am Mass and community evening prayer. My last night in a 10-foot by 12-foot room in the seminary. Indeed, probably the last time I’ll see some of the finest men I’ve ever known - as we all go off to different parts of the world to begin our ministry as priests.

As each of these last things came to pass, I found myself reflecting on what it was like when I first got to the seminary, four years ago. And as Father Reynolds has asked me to preach these Masses for the “Call by Name” vocations program, I thought I would share with you some of my reflections. And while I will speak mostly about the priesthood, let me emphasize from the start that God calls all of us in a special way to serve him, whether it be in the priesthood, religious life as a sister or nun, or in marriage or the single life.

When I first got to the seminary at the beginning of orientation weekend, I had everything I thought I needed packed into the back of my truck - books, clothes, CD-player, computer. I pulled up to the seminary, and immediately, a dozen upper classmen greeted me, shuffled me into the reception room, and proceeded to unpack my truck and take all my stuff up 4 flights of steps to my new room (they were so thorough that I later found my jumper cables in the room). Well, I thought this was great and thanked them, and they just smiled at me. You see, it turns out they had an ulterior motive - just in case I started having second thoughts during the weekend, they wanted to make it harder for me to change my mind (4 flights of steps are a great deterrence to hasty decisions).

And that first weekend was pretty challenging. After a relaxing night where I got acquainted with my new roommate from the Virgin Islands, that morning we were told to put on our clerics and report to the Grotto for Mass and orientation. So, I dutifully got up, donned my clerics, looked at myself in the mirror - wearing clerics for the first time (Roman collar and everything)- and thought to myself, “my God, what am I doing here?” Then I went up to the Grotto, and looked around at that Holy place and thought, “my God, what am I doing here?” Then I looked around at my fellow classmates from all over the country, men of every description you could imagine, and thought, “my God, what am I doing here?”

Then the priest, Fr. Manochio, perhaps the holiest priest I have ever seen or known, begins the Mass, and when he gets to the homily, the first thing he says is, “I bet you’re probably sitting there asking yourself, my God, what am I doing here?” And the funny thing about it was that as I looked around, my classmates were nodding their heads with wide eyes.

What was I doing there? Bottom line: God called and I answered. Of course, it wasn’t quite that simple. Those of you who may have seen the coverage of my ordination in the Georgia Bulletin may remember the picture of me blessing a family. Well, they are wonderful dear people that I know from Carrollton, and I saw them again on Holy Thursday. Their youngest son is David, 2-1/2 years old, and after Mass, his mom was holding him and I went up to him and said, “So, David, did you have a good time tonight?” [Nods head yes] “So, are you going to be a priest someday?” [Deliberately shakes head - side to side] So, I told his mom that this was a sure sign he was going to be a priest, because that was me when the Lord first called - no way [shaking head].

Like Jeremiah who said to the Lord, “I am too young”, or Isaiah who looked up to the Holy of Holies and said, “Woe is me! I am a man of unclean lips”, or Jacob who wrestled with the angel - like all whom God calls, I wrestled with that call, tried to run from it, tried to reason my way out of it, tried to pretend it didn’t happen. I gave the Lord all sorts of excuses: I wanted to continue my career - I was a scientist, not a priest; I wanted to get married, have children, buy a house in the suburbs and spend my weekends watching football and arguing with my son about who’s turn it was to mow the lawn (what goes around comes around). I didn’t ask for much - just what every other young man my age wants out of life. But you know what? The Lord handled each of my objections - one by one - and he answered each of my questions, except one, which I had to answer myself - would I trust him?

And that’s why I entered the seminary. You see, as I was considering the priesthood, there was a time in my life where I was exactly where I wanted to be: I lived in Florida an hour from the beach, I had a good job with great prospects for the future, and at my side at daily Mass one morning, there was a lovely young lady who had become a good friend. She knew I was thinking about the priesthood, and we had decided together that we would go to Mass that day and ask the Lord for a blueprint - whatever he willed for our lives, we would do, if only he would bother telling us what it was. Well, I got to Mass, got down on my knees, and was about to ask the Lord for that blueprint when suddenly something else came to me, “Paul, don’t pray for a blueprint. Pray for trust instead.”

That’s why I can identify so much with Peter in today’s Gospel. The Lord calls Peter by name, “Simon, son of John”, and he asks, “Do you love me?” and the Lord had called me by name and asked me the same question. I replied like Peter, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you”, but I qualified it, “you see, I’m doing rather nicely in my career, and I promise I’ll always dedicate my work to you.” But the Lord calls us by name and asks again, “Do you love me?” “Why yes, Lord, you know that I love you - if you send me that wife I asked for, I promise to be a good husband and father.” I continued to place qualifications and conditions on my response. And still, he calls us by name a final time and asks, “Do you love me more than these - more than your career, more than your dreams?” And I can almost hear the desperation in Peter’s voice, because I felt it in my own call, “Lord, you know everything. You know well that I love you - that I’d do whatever you tell me - but is this really what you want me to do?” And the Lord responds again with the call to serve, “Tend my sheep.” He was saying to me, “I have a plan for you, trust me.”

Well, of the more than 300 men I have known in the last four years who have entered the seminary to pursue a vocation to the priesthood, all have experienced similar calls and similar struggles. And there are two objections to entering the priesthood that I see most frequently.

The first objection is a feeling of unworthiness from within and discouragement from without. How many of us look at ourselves, see our weaknesses and failings and say, “I’m not worthy, I’m too weak and too sinful, there’s no way I can do that.” And I have only one answer to that objection: of course you can’t! If any of us pretends that the work is ours and not the Lord’s, then our work has failed before it has begun. As Jesus said, "For human beings this is impossible, but for God all things are possible." I don’t care what your vocation is - priesthood, religious life, marriage, single life - as Ps. 127 says, “If the Lord does not build the house, in vain do the builders labor.” My vocation to the priesthood is not about me, it is about Jesus Christ. When John had his vision of Revelation, what did he see? Thousands and tens of thousands around the throne, not sitting around congratulating themselves on getting into heaven, but all crying out, “To the One seated on the throne, and to the Lamb, be praise and honor, glory and might, forever and ever!” This is about Jesus Christ, not us. As Ps. 115 says, “Non nobis Nomine Domine” - “Not to us, Lord, not to us, but to your name give the glory.”

And to anyone who would feel discouraged because of unworthiness, just look again to Peter, who would look at the Lord and say, “depart from me, for I am a sinful man” and would even deny him three times as he was being carried off to Calvary. This same man would be given charge over the young church - the Rock on which the Lord would build.

And very often, I see men and women discouraged from pursuing a vocation because of discouragement from without. This takes many forms: overt and subtle. Overt in the frequent attacks we see on the Church and the priesthood in Hollywood and the like, the jokes told about nuns who used to teach us, and even the scandals given by a few priests themselves. Subtle discouragement happens when we view a vocation as a last resort or escape from the world - how many times have you heard someone jokingly say, “Oh, I guess I’ll go join a convent or a monastery”? I know a young priest who wasn’t at his parish two weeks before the schoolgirls took to calling him “Father what-a-waste.” If we don’t view a vocation to the priesthood or religious life as a worthy calling and if we don’t defend it and encourage it in our children, then why are we surprised when our young people do not pursue it?

I know of men in the seminary who have known they were going to be priests since they were 9 years old. I know of a young girl today, 7 years old, who’s been telling her mom since she was 5 that she wants to be a nun. And you know, she just might someday. But I worry that as she grows older, others will place doubts, discourage her, or poke fun at her. Now, if she changes her mind sometime during the next 14 or so years, wonderful. Let her go wherever the Lord calls. But let her change her own mind - none of us has the right to change it for her.

The second objection that I hear most often to entering priesthood or religious life is perhaps the biggest hang-up in our society today. I was driving back to the seminary one week after my ordination (Lord knows it was like being told I had to go back to purgatory after spending a week in heaven...), and since I was in no hurry to get back, I stopped at a Holiday Inn to divide up the trip. Well, I checked in, and the clerk asked me if I was eligible for any discounts. (Was I a member of the AARP or something like that?) Well, on a hunch, I said, “well, I’m a priest, does that help?” Well, you would have thought I’d hit him upside the head, because he did the classic double take... he looked at me with his eyes wide, then he went back to his work, he looked at me again, tried to look busy, and then he started babbling, “Wow, you’re really a priest? Like, a Catholic priest? You’re not kidding, are you? Wow, like that’s great. Wow.” And then he just came right out and said it, “You mean, like, you’re not going to have sex for the rest of your life?” I just had to laugh, but I was glad he asked the question, because it was an honest question and probably what I hear most often. I did my best to give him the two-minute explanation about the call to priesthood and celibacy, (but I didn’t get a discount).

So, celibacy. What is celibacy? The young man behind the counter thought it was a renunciation of sex. He was wrong. It is a simple promise not to marry. And to be perfectly clear about what I am saying, the Church teaches, the scriptures teach, and Jesus himself teaches that sexuality is reserved for marriage, that all Christians are called to be chaste: those who are not married must refrain completely, and those who are, must treat it with dignity, respect and fidelity, because not only is it an expression of total love for one another, but when open to new life, as it should be, the married couple co-creates with God a new human life, a child with an immortal soul, destined to eternal life.

Obviously, that is an amazing and wonderful thing, and we are right to desire it and seek it - to share your entire life with the one you love, to give yourself completely to someone because they are worth loving, and then to have as a result of your union, the fruit of your love - a child. It is a precious gift we have in marriage, and if it were not so precious, then the gift of celibacy would be meaningless.

Why would a young man or young woman want to give up something so beautiful? Well, the answer is real simple: the call of the Lord who said to his disciples, “some have renounced marriage for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Whoever can accept this ought to accept it."

You see, there’s really no great difference between marriage and celibacy. When I first arrived at the seminary, we were told from the very beginning that if we did not have the qualities that would make us a good family man, a good husband, a good father, then we did not have the qualities necessary to be a priest. The difference is this: the husband’s love for his wife is exclusive, not in the negative sense, but in the sense that he has promised to devote himself entirely to her and to her alone, and to the care of their children, for the rest of his life. For the celibate, our love must be non-exclusive, in that we must treat everyone we meet as a mother, daughter, sister, father, son, or brother. In a very real sense, as a celibate, all of God’s people are my family. Marriage and celibacy are not opposed - one is not higher or greater than the other - they are complimentary, and each serves its unique purpose in building up the kingdom of God. For the married person, the promise made to the Israelites holds true, “If you obey the commandments of the Lord... loving him, and walking in his ways... you will live and grow numerous, and the Lord, your God, will bless you...” And for the celibate, Jesus makes this promise, “And everyone who has given up houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or lands for the sake of my name will receive a hundred times more, and will inherit eternal life.”

Well, as I conclude, I realize that probably 90% of you are thinking, “this doesn’t apply to me - I don’t have a religious vocation; I’m married or I already know what the Lord has planned for me.” And that is wonderful, especially for those of you who have truly discovered your vocation and live it faithfully. But let me tell you this: this does apply to you, all of you. If you are elderly, pray for vocations. If you are married, encourage vocations in your children. If you are single, be open, seek God’s will in your life, and encourage others who may be thinking about a vocation. If you are a young person, start praying now - today.

My ordination 8 weeks ago was probably the happiest day of my life, as you can imagine. People have asked me how it felt, and I can only say this: I felt that I was exactly where I was supposed to be. I no longer said, “My God, what am I doing here”, but instead, “Thank you Jesus for bringing me here.” Well, for whatever reason, I just couldn’t hold it in, and as we processed out at the end of the ordination Mass, I had a big grin on my face. I probably looked pretty silly, but the 7 year old girl I told you about, the one who wants to be a nun, saw me and leaned up to her mom to say, “Mom, he’s smiling” as if she weren’t expecting it. Well, I’ll end with this: if any of you are considering a vocation to serve the Lord in whatever way, especially the priesthood or religious life, then I must warn you - you run one great risk, and that is this: you might be happy.

Saturday, January 28, 2012

We have a year to figure out how to violate our consciences.

Homily , 4th Sunday of Ordinary Time, Cycle B
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., pastor, Saint Joseph's, Dalton, GA

Archbishop Gregory says, "the Administration has cast aside the First Amendment to the Constitution of the United States, denying to Catholics our Nation’s first and most fundamental freedom, that of religious liberty." And he continues, "I insist that this is a direct attack on our religious freedom and our First Amendment rights."

Why does he teach this? It is important to begin with the fact that our religious freedom does not exist because the First Amendment grants it. Our religious freedom exists because it is a right that belongs to all peoples in all times and places, by virtue of our dignity as children of God:

1738 Freedom is exercised in relationships between human beings. Every human person, created in the image of God, has the natural right to be recognized as a free and responsible being. All owe to each other this duty of respect. The right to the exercise of freedom, especially in moral and religious matters, is an inalienable requirement of the dignity of the human person. This right must be recognized and protected by civil authority within the limits of the common good and public order.

In other words, the Constitution of the United States did not create freedom of religion, it recognized it as an inalienable right, inherent in all peoples, citizens or not.

By what authority, then, does the Archbishop draw this conclusion about this particular modern political issue? Is he just stating his opinion, is he choosing political sides, supporting one or another political party? No. As a bishop, he is speaking with the authority of the Catholic Church, which he is obligated to do on matters of faith and morals that affect the people entrusted to his care as Shepherd of the local church.

Where does the Catholic Church get this authority? Christ himself is the source of the Church's authority. In today's Gospel, the people say, "What is this? A new teaching with authority. He commands even the unclean spirits and they obey him."

The New Testament shows that Christ deliberately created his Church to continue his mission in the world. He promised to remain present in his Church for all time, and he lovingly guides it through the presence of the Holy Spirit.

Mt. 28:18, Then Jesus approached and said to them, “All power in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age.”

To ensure the success of this mission, Christ gave his Church the ability to teach, govern and sanctify with Christ's own authority. The Apostles appointed successors to ensure that the Gospel would continue to be handed on faithfully as "the lasting source of all life for the Church" (CCC 860).

The purpose of this authority is to give the Church the ability to teach without error about the essentials of salvation: "On this rock, I will build My Church, and the powers of death shall not prevail against it" (Mt 16:18). This authority concerns the official teachings of the Church on matters of faith, morals, and worship. Because of Christ's presence and guarantee, his Church cannot lead people astray with its official teachings.

So when the Archbishop speaks on matters of faith and morals, he is not speaking on his own, as the Lord says to Moses in the First Reading, “I will raise up for them a prophet like you from among their kin, and will put my words into his mouth; he shall tell them all that I command him... to him you shall listen.”

875 "How are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without a preacher? And how can men preach unless they are sent?"390 No one - no individual and no community - can proclaim the Gospel to himself: "Faith comes from what is heard."391 No one can give himself the mandate and the mission to proclaim the Gospel. The one sent by the Lord does not speak and act on his own authority, but by virtue of Christ's authority; not as a member of the community, but speaking to it in the name of Christ. No one can bestow grace on himself; it must be given and offered. This fact presupposes ministers of grace, authorized and empowered by Christ.

So what, then, is conscience, and why is it so important that we do what we can, politically, to ensure that it is not violated?

1778 Conscience is a judgment of reason whereby the human person recognizes the moral quality of a concrete act that he is going to perform, is in the process of performing, or has already completed. In all he says and does, man is obliged to follow faithfully what he knows to be just and right.

1776 "Deep within his conscience man discovers a law which he has not laid upon himself but which he must obey. Its voice, ever calling him to love and to do what is good and to avoid evil, sounds in his heart at the right moment. . . . For man has in his heart a law inscribed by God. . . . His conscience is man's most secret core and his sanctuary. There he is alone with God whose voice echoes in his depths."

Conscience is a natural facility of our reason that does three things: 1) Reminds us always to do good and avoid evil. 2) Makes a judgment about the good and evil of particular choices in a specific situation. 3) Bears witness after the fact to the good or evil that we have done.

Conscience is not itself the source of the moral law. Conscience is a judgment of reason. It uses the principles of the moral law to judge the morality of acts in specific circumstances. And this moral law is objective, knowable by reason, and universal.

(DH 14) “In forming their consciences the faithful must pay careful attention to the sacred and certain teaching of the Church. For the Catholic Church is by the will of Christ the teacher of truth. It is her duty to proclaim and teach with authority the truth which is Christ and, at the same time, to declare and confirm by her authority the principles of the moral order which spring from human nature itself.” 2039: “Personal conscience and reason should not be set in opposition to the moral law or the Magisterium of the Church.”

So, what is happening here? In summary, the Administration and the Department of Health and Human Services, are mandating that the Catholic Church provide coverage under any health care plan for three things which are considered morally unacceptable for Christians: abortion, contraception, and sterilization. Not only are they attempting to force the Church to do this, they will fine the Church if it fails to do so, thus paying for such morally unacceptable services for other people.

The Archbishop said, “The Administration’s sole concession was to give our institutions one year to comply.” As one commentator has said, basically “In effect, the president is saying we have a year to figure out how to violate our consciences.”

Why such an attack on the Church, especially since the Catholic Church has traditionally been the largest hospital network in the country? Simple: to silence our voice, to make it difficult or impossible for the Catholic Church to speak out on public issues.

We should oppose this with our voices, our pens, and in the voting booth.
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Homilia OT 04 B, SJCC 2012

El Arzobispo dice, “Con esta decisión, la presente Administración ha hecho a un lado la Primera Enmienda de la Constitución de los Estados Unidos, negando a los católicos la primera y más fundamental libertad de nuestra Nación, la libertad religiosa... Con mis hermanos obispos insistimos que esto es un ataque directo a la libertad religiosa y a nuestros derechos bajo la Primera Enmienda.”

1738 La libertad se ejercita en las relaciones entre los seres humanos. Toda persona humana, creada a imagen de Dios, tiene el derecho natural de ser reconocida como un ser libre y responsable. Todo hombre debe prestar a cada cual el respeto al que éste tiene derecho. El derecho al ejercicio de la libertad es una exigencia inseparable de la dignidad de la persona humana, especialmente en materia moral y religiosa (cf DH 2). Este derecho debe ser reconocido y protegido civilmente dentro de los límites del bien común y del orden público (cf DH 7).

En otras palabras, la Constitución de los Estados Unidos no ha creado la libertad religiosa, pero la ha reconocido como un derecho inalienable, inherente a todos los pueblos, ciudadanos o no.

¿Con qué autoridad, pues, el arzobispo llegar a esta conclusión sobre este asunto político particular? ¿Es solamente una manifestación de su su opinión, es que tome partido político, el apoyo a uno u otro partido político? No. Como obispo, él está hablando con la autoridad de la Iglesia Católica, que está obligado a hacer en asuntos de fe y la moral que afectan a las personas confiadas a su cuidado como pastor de la iglesia local.

¿De dónde la Iglesia Católica recibe esta autoridad? Cristo mismo es la fuente de la autoridad de la Iglesia. En el Evangelio de hoy, la gente dice, "¿Qué es esto? ¿Qué nueva doctrina es ésta? Este hombre tiene autoridad para mandar hasta a los espíritus inmundos y lo obedecen?”

El Nuevo Testamento enseña que Cristo creó deliberadamente su Iglesia para continuar su misión en el mundo. Se comprometió a seguir presente en su Iglesia por todo el tiempo, y con amor que guía a través de la presencia del Espíritu Santo.

Mt, 28:18-20, “Jesús se acercó y les habló así: «Me ha sido dada toda autoridad en el Cielo y en la tierra. Vayan, pues, y hagan que todos los pueblos sean mis discípulos. Bautícenlos en el Nombre del Padre y del Hijo y del Espíritu Santo, y enséñenles a cumplir todo lo que yo les he encomendado a ustedes. Yo estoy con ustedes todos los días hasta el fin de la historia.”

Para asegurar el éxito de esta misión, Cristo dio a su Iglesia la capacidad de enseñar, gobernar y santificar con la misma autoridad de Cristo. 890 Esta misión divina confiada por Cristo a los Apóstoles tiene que durar hasta el fin del mundo, pues el Evangelio que tienen que transmitir es el principio de toda la vida de la Iglesia. Por eso los Apóstoles se preocuparon de instituir sucesores (los obispos hasta hoy en día).

El propósito de esta autoridad es dar a la Iglesia la capacidad de enseñar sin error las enseñanzas fundamentales de la salvación: "Sobre esta piedra, edificaré mi Iglesia, y las puertas del infierno no prevalecerán contra ella" (Mt 16:18) . Esta autoridad se refiere a las enseñanzas oficiales de la Iglesia en asuntos de fe, la moral y el culto. Debido a la presencia de Cristo y de su garantía, la Iglesia no puede llevar a la gente por mal camino con sus enseñanzas oficiales.

Por eso, cuando el arzobispo habla de asuntos de fe y moral, no está hablando por su cuenta, pero con la autoridad y la verdad de Cristo. Entonces, ¿qué es la conciencia, y por qué es tan importante lo que hacemos lo que podemos, políticamente, para asegurarse de que no se viola la consciencia de Católicos?

1778 La conciencia moral es un juicio de la razón por el que la persona humana reconoce la cualidad moral de un acto concreto... En todo lo que dice y hace, el hombre está obligado a seguir fielmente lo que sabe que es justo y recto.

1776 “En lo más profundo de su conciencia el hombre descubre una ley que él no se da a sí mismo, sino a la que debe obedecer y cuya voz resuena, cuando es necesario, en los oídos de su corazón, llamándole siempre a amar y a hacer el bien y a evitar el mal [...]. El hombre tiene una ley inscrita por Dios en su corazón [...]. La conciencia es el núcleo más secreto y el sagrario del hombre, en el que está solo con Dios, cuya voz resuena en lo más íntimo de ella” (GS 16).

La conciencia es un poder natural de nuestra razón que hace tres cosas: 1) Nos recuerda siempre hacer el bien y evitar el mal. 2) Hace un juicio sobre el bien y el mal de las opciones particulares en una situación específica. 3) da testimonio después de que el bien o el mal que hemos hecho.

DH 14, Por su parte, los fieles, en la formación de su conciencia, deben prestar diligente atención a la doctrina sagrada y cierta de la Iglesia . Pues por voluntad de Cristo la Iglesia católica es la maestra de la verdad, y su misión consiste en anunciar y enseñar auténticamente la verdad, que es Cristo, y al mismo tiempo declarar y confirmar con su autoridad los principios de orden moral que fluyen de la misma naturaleza humana. 2039 No se ha de oponer la conciencia personal y la razón a la ley moral o de la Iglesia.

Entonces, ¿qué está pasando aquí? En resumen, la Administración y el Departamento de Salud y Servicios Humanos van a forzar la Iglesia Católica para ofrecer una cobertura de salud por sus empleados que contiene tres cosas que se consideran moralmente inaceptable para los cristianos: el aborto, la anticoncepción y la esterilización. Como resultado, y a menos que la regulación sea anulada, nosotros los católicos nos veremos obligados o a violar nuestra conciencia y/o a dejar de ofrecer seguro médico y de salud a nuestros empleados (y a sufrir sanciones económicas por ello).

¿Por qué este ataque contra la Iglesia, especialmente cuando la Iglesia Católica tiene la mayoría de los hospitales de caridad en el país? Simple: para silenciar nuestra voz, para que sea difícil o imposible que la Iglesia Católica para hablar sobre los asuntos públicos. Debemos oponer este ataque con nuestras voces, nuestras plumas, y en nuestras votas.

Archbishop Gregory on Freedom of Religion and Conscience

Letter from Archbishop Wilton D. Gregory
Read at all Masses in Parishes in the Archdiocese of Atlanta
Weekend of January 28 – 29, 2012

My dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

I am writing to you on a matter of grave moral concern -- freedom of religion and freedom of conscience. The U.S. Department of Health and Human Services announced last week that almost all employers, including Catholic employers, will be forced to offer their employees health coverage that includes sterilization, abortion-inducing drugs, and contraception. Almost all health insurers will be forced to include those “services” in the health policies they write. And almost all individuals will be forced to buy that coverage as a part of their policies.

In so ruling, the Administration has cast aside the First Amendment to the Constitution of the United States, denying to Catholics our Nation’s first and most fundamental freedom, that of religious liberty. And as a result, unless the rule is overturned, we Catholics will be compelled either to violate our consciences, or to drop health coverage for our employees (and suffer the penalties for doing so). The Administration’s sole concession was to give our institutions one year to comply.

I stand in unity with Catholic bishops throughout the United States and other religious leaders vowing to fight this mandate.

Along with my brother bishops and other religious leaders, I insist that this is a direct attack on our religious freedom and our First Amendment rights. I will work with the bishops, other religious leaders and our fellow Americans to remove this unjust regulation.

If the administration will not rescind this violation of our First Amendment rights, we must call on our elected leaders to do so. I ask you to pray that wisdom and justice may prevail, and work together to restore our religious liberty.

Please join me in continuing to follow the development of this important issue and contacting our elected representatives to seek a just resolution.

Through our Georgia Bulletin, archdiocesan and Georgia Catholic Conference websites and other media, I will keep you up to date on the progress of this important issue.

Sincerely yours in Christ,
╬ Wilton D. Gregory
Archbishop of Atlanta


Carta del Arzobispo Wilton D. Gregory y el Obispo Luis R. Zarma

Leída en todas las misas en las parroquias de la Arquidiócesis de Atlanta
28-29 de enero de 2012

Mis queridos hermanos y hermanas en Cristo,

Les escribo para informarles sobre un asunto serio y alarmante que afecta directa la libertad de religión y de consciencia. El Departamento de Salud y Servicios Humanos de los Estados Unidos anunció la semana pasada que la mayoría de los empleadores, incluyendo a los de las instituciones católicas, van a ser obligados a ofrecer a sus empleados cobertura de salud que incluyan la esterilización, medicamentos que induzcan el aborto y anticonceptivos. Casi todas las entidades que ofrecen seguro médico serán forzadas a incluir esta cobertura como parte de sus pólizas. Prácticamente todas las personas estarán obligadas a comprar esa cobertura como parte de su póliza.

Con esta decisión, la presente Administración ha hecho a un lado la Primera Enmienda de la Constitución de los Estados Unidos, negando a los católicos la primera y más fundamental libertad de nuestra Nación, la libertad religiosa. Como resultado, y a menos que la regulación sea anulada, nosotros los católicos nos veremos obligados o a violar nuestra conciencia y/o a dejar de ofrecer seguro médico y de salud a nuestros empleados (y a sufrir sanciones económicas por ello). La única concesión que hizo la Administración fue dar a nuestras instituciones un año para acatar la orden legislativa.

En unión con los obispos Católicos de los Estados Unidos lucharemos para que esta ley sea revocada.

Con mis hermanos obispos insistimos que esto es un ataque directo a la libertad religiosa y a nuestros derechos bajo la Primera Enmienda. Colaboraremos con otros líderes religiosos para eliminar esta regulación injusta.

Si la administración no rescinde de esta violación de nuestros derechos bajo la Primera Enmienda, debemos hacer un llamado a nuestros líderes políticos que hemos elegido para que ellos lo hagan. Les pido que oremos para que la sabiduría y la justicia prevalezcan, y trabajemos juntos para restaurar nuestra libertad de religión.

Les pido que continuemos vigilantes en el desarrollo de este tema tan importante y que nos comuniquemos con nuestros representantes elegidos para conseguir una resolución justa.

A través del Georgia Bulletin y los demás medios de comunicación de la Arquidiócesis los mantendremos informados del progreso de este asunto.

Sinceramente en Cristo,
Wilton D. Gregory
Arzobispo de Atlanta

Saturday, December 24, 2011

What shall I bring to the manger?

Christmas 2011 Midnight Mass
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., Pastor, Saint Joseph's, Dalton GA

St. Therese of Lisieux writes of a powerful experience she had one Christmas. She was attending Midnight Mass when she was about 14 years old (pp. 98-100). Until that time, she had been a child, very touchy, always crying over the littlest things. Her sisters used to tell her, “You cry so much during your childhood, you will no longer have tears to shed later on!” But at Mass that night, something happened. She encountered the child Jesus. She writes, “On that luminous night… I received the strong and powerful God… On that night when Jesus, the gentle, little Child, made Himself subject to weakness and suffering for love of me, He made me strong and courageous.” And from then on, she gave up her childish sensitivities and tearfulness. But more importantly, she discovered something else. She writes, “I felt charity enter my soul, and the need to forget myself and please others; since then I’ve been happy.” After what she calls her “Christmas Conversion”, she entered the convent within a year and lived a beautiful life of self-giving prayer, now a Saint, a Doctor of the Church, and patroness of missionaries.

The Shepherds too encountered Christ on the original Christmas night. And it changed their lives as well. The angel appears to them in the fields and says, “behold I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For today in the city of David a savior has been born for you who is Christ and Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.” It was customary in Jewish times that on the birth of a child, the minstrels would gather to welcome the child into the world with music, which I imagine is one reason we still sing Christmas Carols to this day.. But this was an event of such joy that the angels themselves burst forth in song , “Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.

St. Therese and the shepherds knew one thing: that the child born in Bethlehem, lying in swaddling clothes in a manger, was the savior who had come to save them from their sins. As the Scripture says, “This day in David’s city a savior has been born to you, the Messiah and Lord.” So, the greatest gift of Christmas is the gift we receive: the gift of Jesus, whose name means “Savior”, our Emmanuel, who is “God with us.” In that manger in Bethlehem, as St. Paul writes, “The grace of God appeared, offering salvation to all men… our Savior Christ Jesus. It was he who sacrificed himself for us to redeem us from all unrighteousness.”

And the Word was made Flesh, and dwelt among us.” The prophets transmitted the word of God, but Jesus is the Word itself, the Word of God: the incarnate Word who translates God into human language, by revealing his infinite love for man. The prophets had said wonderful things about God's love, but the Son of God incarnates this love and shows himself, living and able to be touched by human hands. (DI 29)

Of this great wonder Saint Augustine asks (Sermon LXIX.5), “Why was it done?” He reminds us of what Saint John said, “to those who believed in Him he has given the power to be the sons of God.” And then he says, “Do not imagine that it was too great a thing for you to become the sons of God; for your sakes He became the Son of Man, who was the Son of God... He descended to us, and shall we not ascend to Him? For us He accepted death, and shall not He give us His Life? For you He suffered evil things, and shall he not give you His good things?

St. Augustine would also say (OOR, Dec. 24), “Awake, mankind! For your sake God has become man. Awake you who sleep, rise up from the dead, and Christ will enlighten you. I tell you again: for your sake, God became man. You would have suffered eternal death, had he not been born in time. Never would you have been freed from sinful flesh, had he not taken on himself the likeness of sinful flesh. You would have suffered everlasting unhappiness, had it not been for this mercy. You would have never returned to life, had he not shared your death. You would have been lost if he had not hastened to your aid. You would have perished, had he not come.

Archbishop Fulton Sheen writes that when the history of the world is written, the saddest line of all will be “There was no room for them at the inn. There was room in the inn for the soldiers of Rome who had brutally subjugated the Jewish people; there was room for the daughters of the rich merchants of the East; there was room for those clothed with soft garments who live in the houses of the king; in fact, there was room for anyone who had a coin to give the innkeeper; but there was no room for Him who came to be the Inn of every homeless heart in the world.” The only room for him in this world, it seemed, was on a Cross. But not yet, for today the manger suffices and the world rejoices.

There was no room for Jesus when he came among us as a child, but in a sense, the same is true today, for our hearts are too crowded with worldly things to receive him. If there is sin in our souls, especially, then we have made no room for him in the Inn of our hearts, where he wants to come and dwell. But there are two things we can do. First, make room for him through repentance, cleansing the house, as it were. And second, inviting him in through prayer. And if we do this, then we can experience the presence of Christ and serve him in so many ways: in the poor, lonely, sick and suffering, in those we encounter in our daily lives, and indeed, in our own hearts. And we encounter Jesus most especially now, in the Eucharist, where he gives us his body and blood, soul and divinity, as food for our earthly journey so that we might reach our heavenly destination.

And what a gift this is. As Isaiah said, “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom a light has shone… For a child is born to us, a son is given us; upon his shoulder, dominion rests. Then name him Wonder-Counselor, God-Hero, Father-Forever, Prince of Peace.”

This great gift demands a gift in return: the gift of our very selves. There is a beautiful English carol called “Shepherd's Song At Christmas”, which you will sometimes hear played on the radio during this season. It tells of one of the shepherds, who sees the star and hears the angel, “I come to proclaim good news to you – tidings of great joy to be shared by the whole people. This day in David’s city a savior has been born to you, the Messiah and Lord.” But he is worried about what he, a poor shepherd can bring to Jesus. “But what shall I bring as a gift for the king? Shall I bring a song? A song for the king in the manger? What shall I bring as a gift for the child? What shall I bring to the manger? Shall I bring a lamb? Gentle, meek and mild. Very poor I am, but I know there’s a king in Bethlehem. But what, what shall I bring him? Shall I bring my heart, and give my heart to him? Yes, I will bring my heart to the manger. Yes, I will give my heart to him.”

Saturday, December 17, 2011

The Rest of the Story

Homily, 4th Sunday of Advent, Cycle B 2011
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., Pastor, Saint Joseph's, Dalton GA

Cathy (our DRE) sent me a YouTube video of her daughter Jenny conducting her High School ensemble playing and singing the great Hallelujah Chorus from Handel's Messiah. I was delighted to see these young people, lead by Jenny, do such a fantastic job with one of the greatest pieces of music in history. The story goes that when Handel composed the great Hallelujah Chorus, his servant walked in on him and found him in tears and Handel exclaimed, “I did think I saw all heaven before me and the great God himself.” And certainly, if you listen to the Hallelujah Chorus in person, you would think you’re in heaven listening to the angels sing. Naturally, the High School students weren't able to play the entire oratorio, but perhaps this whetted their appetites and one day they will.



I once had the privilege of attending a performance of Handel's Messiah by the Atlanta Symphony orchestra and choir, conducted by the great Robert Shaw before he passed. But the funny thing about that particular performance, on Friday night during the Holiday season, was that after the Hallelujah Chorus, a lot of people got up and left – it’s a rather long performance, over two hours, and people thought that was the climax. But that’s not the end of Handel’s Messiah, it’s only the end of the Second Part, there’s still a whole Third part to go.

I think it’s sometimes that way with Christmas in America today: we sing about Christ a lot, but do we remember the rest of the story? We want all the Hallelujah’s, the joys and the fun of Christmas, but not the rest of the song of our salvation. It’s easy to spend a lot of time preparing our homes with lights and streamers and decorations, while forgetting to prepare our hearts to receive our Lord. It’s easy to invite guests into our homes, while forgetting to ask the Divine guest to be the center of our families. Americans have been so caught up in consumerism, materialism, and the pursuit, not of happiness, but of instant gratification, that we’ve forgotten the rest of the song, and wouldn’t know it if we heard it.

In today's Gospel, just a week before Christmas, we read again the story of the Annunciation, reminding us of that moment of great joy and wonder. The angel Gabriel gave Mary an invitation, the invitation to be the mother of the Son of God, her Son, to be named Jesus, who would rule over the house of Jacob, where he would reign without end. But do you think that Mary would have said “yes” if she knew what awaited her? If she knew the rest of the story?

Gabriel's explanation does not tell her all the events to come. She is faced with a great mystery, which she knows to be rich in suffering. She knew from Scripture that the Redeemer would be a man of sorrows, as it was prophesied that the Messiah would have to suffer, as St. Paul says “the gospel which reveals the mystery hidden for many ages but now manifested through the writings of the prophets.” To be the Mother of the Savior, the Son of God, meant to be the Mother of one condemned to death. And the road to that Saving Cross would begin shortly after she said “yes”.

Her child would be born in a stable, attended only by cattle and a few shepherds. King Herod would then seek to kill the child, massacring innocent children by the dozens to find him. And she and Joseph would have to flee their home to seek refuge in a foreign land till it was safe. And then when they returned, she would watch her Son begin his ministry, only to see it end on the Cross. And she would be there, watching all the jeers and insults and blasphemies hurled at her Son as he endured the Cross.

If you were a mother, and knew all that was going to happen to your child, how easy would it have been to say, as Mary did, “Let it be done to me as you say”? But Mary did say yes. She knew that she would share in her son's sorrows, but that these sorrows are redemptive for the whole human race. That is God's plan for her, and Mary accepts it without reserve because her will is perfectly united with the Salvific will of God.

If Handel’s Messiah were a play, and the events of Christ’s life were being played out before us as we listened to the music, you know where the Hallelujah Chorus would be sung? The Crucifixion. We sing Hallelujah because our Redemption has been accomplished on the Cross, by our Lord, who was once a child in Bethlehem. We do know the rest of the story, and our only response can be that of Mary, “let it be done to me according to your word.”

As Saint Therese of Lisieux says, “when perfection and holiness were set before me, I understood that to become a saint one had to suffer much, seek out always the most perfect thing to do, and forget self. I understood, too, there were many degrees of perfection and each soul was free to respond to the advances of Our Lord, to do little or much for Him, in a word, to choose among the sacrifices He was asking. Then, as in the days of my childhood, I cried out: ‘My God, I choose all! I don’t want to be a saint by halves, I’m not afraid to suffer for You, I fear only one thing: to keep my own will; so take it, for I choose all that You will!’”

Every Christian receives a vocation from God, a purpose, a mission. By our vocations, like Mary, we participate in the redemptive mission of Christ. Each of us receives countless, daily invitations from the Lord to suffer, to sacrifice, to serve, to give of self, to love, and to rejoice. Each of us can be a Saint. And it is very simple: say “yes” to God's will.

The third part of Handel’s Messiah is about the Resurrection. And that’s the rest of the song: we await his return in glory, his Second Coming, where “we shall be changed… and the corruptible will put on incorruptibility and the mortal immortality.” And we will stand around the throne, giving as it is sung in the last song, “blessing and honor, glory and power, unto him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb.” Because he took on our human nature, as a child in Mary’s womb, because he suffered and died for our sins, and because he was raised from the dead, we too can share in his divinity, if we would share in his sufferings, and we too will one day be raised from the dead. And then we shall truly sing Hallelujah, “for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth, and he shall reign for ever and ever.”

Monday, December 12, 2011

Oración del Papa Benedicto a Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe - 2011

"Oración a Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe"
Por El Papa Benedicto XVI, Diciembre 12, 2011 en San Pedro, Vaticano, Roma

Virgen María de Guadalupe,
Madre del verdadero Dios por quien se vive.


En San Juan Diego, el más pequeño de tus hijos,
Tú dices hoy a los pueblos de América Latina:
‘¿No estoy yo aquí que soy tu Madre?
¿No estás bajo mi sombra?
¿No estás por ventura en mi regazo?’


Por eso nosotros con profundo agradecimiento
reconocemos a través de los siglos
todas las muestras de tu amor maternal,
tu constante auxilio, compasión y defensa
de los moradores de nuestras tierras,
de los pobres y sencillos de corazón.



Con esta certeza filial,
acudimos a ti, para pedirte,
que así como ayer vuelvas a darnos a tu Divino Hijo,
porque sólo en el encuentro con Él
se renueva la existencia personal
y se abre el camino para la edificación de una
sociedad justa y fraterna.

A ti, ‘Misionera Celeste del Nuevo Mundo’,
que eres el rostro mestizo de América
y luminosamente manifiestas su identidad, unidad y originalidad,
confiamos el destino de nuestros Pueblos.

A ti, Pedagoga del Evangelio de Cristo,
Estrella de la Nueva Evangelización,
consagramos la labor misionera
del Pueblo de Dios peregrino en América Latina.

¡Oh Dulce Señora!,
¡Oh Madre Nuestra!,
¡Oh siempre Virgen María!
¡Tu presencia nos hace hermanos!

Acoge con amor esta súplica de tus hijos
y bendice esta amada tierra tuya
con los dones de la reconciliación y la paz.

Amén.

Saturday, December 10, 2011

We Are Only A House of Prayer

Homily, 3rd Sunday of Advent, Cycle B 2011
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., Pastor, Saint Joseph's, Dalton GA

My favorite story from St. Therese of Lisieux, who was a Carmelite nun known as the "Little Flower", is of her first experience in the novitiate when she joined the Convent. When they arrived, all the young nuns would gather together, and the novice master would lead them in the divine office or the rosary. This was their first experience in prayer, public prayer and vocal prayer, and it was designed to train them for the more advanced stages of prayer, meditation and contemplation.

Well, one day the novice master interviewed each of the nuns about what they did during their free time, of which they were given a little each day. St. Therese said, "well, I find a spot between my bed and the window, and I just pull the curtains around me to be alone, and then I just think." The novice master asked, "what do you think about?" She replied, "Well, I think about God, the angels, the saints, heaven, stuff like that." And the novice master had to laugh, because here this young novice was already advancing into the deeper forms of prayer without knowing it. She was engaged in contemplation, which for her, it seemed, came almost naturally.

In today's Second Reading, Saint Paul tells us, “Rejoice Always. Pray without ceasing.” Is it possible to actually do this? To pray without ceasing, to always be filled with the joy of the Lord? As last week, in the Gospel today we see John the Baptist in the desert, preparing the way of the Lord, making “straight the way of the Lord.” What is the “way of the Lord”? Nothing less than prayer, a prayer of friendship and union with the Lord.

Jesus would also tell his apostles, "Come by yourselves to an out-of-the-way place and rest a little." Just as St. Therese who sought a place to be alone. And in several other places throughout the Gospels (CCC 2602), we see Jesus seeking a deserted place like John the Baptist before him. Why? So that he might pray. Sometimes he would spend entire nights in prayer before his heavenly Father.

So, by this example, Jesus teaches us the importance of making time for prayer, of seeking a time and place to be alone with our Lord, to pray without ceasing. And all Christians are called to this way of prayer. In our own experience, however, we believe this to be difficult. We want to find a time and place to pray, but we find ourselves constantly interrupted by the demands of the world: our family duties, our work, the tasks of daily life.

This would happen to Jesus as well, for he was often interrupted. The people heard about where he was going and hastened to get there before he did, so that when Jesus arrived with his apostles, a vast crowd was waiting for him. Though he was weary, he pitied them and began to teach them. And I think this experience is common in our everyday life. Like Jesus who was looking for a place to rest and pray, we often find that the world interrupts us and keeps us from entering into that deeper communion with our Lord which we know we need.

So, I was thinking about St. Therese and what she would do, what advice would she give to those of us caught up in the midst of the world who find it hard to find a time and place to pray, and it occurred to me that perhaps we ought to try a different approach. Rather than let the world interrupt our time in prayer, how about interrupting the world with prayer? How about interrupting our daily duties and obligations with a brief and heartfelt prayer to our Lord?

The catechism defines prayer in this way (CCC 2559), "prayer is the raising of one's heart and mind to God." And there is no reason why we cannot do that in the midst of our everyday life: in the home, in the workplace, on the road, in the middle of our recreation and relaxation. In all these places it takes but a simple decision to raise our heart and mind to the Lord.

And there is a very simple way to do this, a way that has been with us from the very ancient traditions of the Church, (CCC 2667) it's called the Jesus Prayer: "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner." The monks in ancient times, especially those in the East, would repeat this prayer throughout the day ("Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner") and they found it a perfect way to "raise their heart and mind to God" in the midst of their daily duties.

This prayer is particularly appropriate because of the many truths it contains. The catechism says, (CCC 2664), "There is no other way of Christian prayer than Christ. Whether our prayer is communal or personal, vocal or interior, it has access to the Father only if we pray 'in the name' of Jesus." And it goes on, (CCC 2666), "The name 'Jesus' contains all: God and man and the whole economy of creation and salvation. To pray 'Jesus' is to invoke him and call him within us." (CCC 2668), "The invocation of the holy name of Jesus is the simplest way of praying always... This prayer is possible at all times because it is not one occupation among others but the only occupation: that of loving God, which animates and transfigures every action in Christ Jesus."

This simple prayer is beneficial because it leads to more advanced forms of prayer, especially that of contemplative prayer. (CCC 2709) St. Teresa of Avila, another great Carmelite, defines contemplative prayer in this way: "Contemplative prayer in my opinion is nothing else than a close sharing between friends; it means taking time frequently to be alone with him who we know loves us."

If we pray without ceasing, we invite the Lord to be a part of our daily lives, so that he might share in our joys and sorrows, our work and hardships, everything. And when someone knows us that well, what do we call them? A friend. And that's what contemplative prayer is: it is not a form of prayer reserved only for the saints or those in convents, all of us are called to this deep friendship with our Lord.
And the catechism goes on about contemplative prayer: (CCC 2710), "One does not undertake contemplative prayer only when one has time: one makes time for the Lord, with firm determination not to give up, no matter what trials and dryness one may encounter. One cannot always meditate, but one can always enter into inner prayer, independently of the conditions of health, work, emotional state. The heart is the place of this quest and encounter, in poverty and in faith."

You see? It is possible to pray without ceasing, for the one thing the world cannot enter without permission is the heart. And if you reserve a place in your heart for the Lord, he will always be with you and you will always experience his presence. Saint Teresa of Avila said, “If you wish to speak with your Father and enjoy His company, you do not have to go to heaven... you need no wings to go in search of Him but only to find a place where you can be alone and look upon Him present within yourself.” (Way, p28)

There's a very beautiful opera called "Dialogues des Carmelites" (Poulenc), which is based on a novel, which is based on the true story of a group of Carmelite nuns who were martyred during the French Revolution. During the opera, the Prioress says to one of the novices, "We are only a house of prayer! Prayer provides the only reason for our existence. Whoever doubts the force of prayer must regard us all as impostors and parasites. If faith in God is universal, should the same not be true of faith in prayer? And so each and every prayer -- even the prayer of a little shepherd who tends his flock -- is really the prayer of all mankind. And what the little shepherd does from time to time, as his heart prompts him, all of us must do day and night."

And I think her words apply to all of us: day and night, our thoughts ought to turn to the Lord, so that, through contemplation, we might deepen our friendship with him. For one day, when all the trials of this life are over, we will meet him face to face, and only then will we find the place of eternal rest we seek, the Kingdom of Heaven.