Father Paul's Homily Blog

What shall I bring to the manger?

2011-12-24T11:40:00.008-05:00

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.”

The Rest of the Story

2011-12-17T01:10:00.003-05:00

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.”

Oración del Papa Benedicto a Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe - 2011

2011-12-12T13:28:00.003-05:00

"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.

We Are Only A House of Prayer

2011-12-10T13:30:00.004-05:00

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.

The Way of Perfection

2011-12-03T19:17:00.003-05:00

Homily, 2nd Sunday of Advent, Cycle B 2011
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., Pastor, Saint Joseph's, Dalton GA

Today we are presented with the image of John the Baptist, who “appeared in the desert... [fulfilling Isaiah's prophecy] Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths.”

If we want to prepare our hearts to welcome Jesus, we can look to the example of Saint John the Baptist. He leaves everything and goes into the desert to lead of life of penance. He detaches himself from all the goods of the earth, symbolized in his manner of living “clothed in camel's hair, with a leather belt around his waist. He fed on locusts and wild honey.” For us, we are invited to retire into the interior desert of our heart, detaching ourselves from things of the world, preparing room to receive Jesus worthily.

Saint Peter encourages us, “Since everything is to [pass away], what sort of persons ought you to be, conducting yourselves in holiness and devotion...” We are to be holy, where God is first in our lives and all worldly goods are directed by him and towards him. We are to be filled with devotion, or tender love for God, seen in our prayer and work. I see devotion like the love of spouses, who often spontaneously offer small acts of love to their beloved throughout the day. In the same way, our love of God is shown in these tender acts of love for God, expressed in numerous ways each day.

But Jesus gives us a seemingly difficult command when he tells us what is expected of us, this preparation for union with God prefigured in Advent. He says, “Be perfect as your Heavenly Father is perfect.” Is this call only for a few? John the Baptist, the Twelve, the Saints throughout history? The Catechism says, (CCC 2013): “All Christians in any state or walk of life are called to the fullness of Christian life and to the perfection of charity. All are called to holiness: Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect.” As Pope Pius XI said, “There are some who say that sanctity is not everyone's vocation; on the contrary, it is everyone's vocation, and all are called to it... Jesus Christ has given himself as an example for all to imitate.” (Divine Intimacy, 2.2)

So this call is for everyone of us, without exception. The better question is: is it possible to be holy, to be perfect? If holiness is demanded of all, it must be possible for all. While there those “great saints” given a special mission accomplish, filled with extraordinary gifts, even the simplest and most humble among us can attain sanctity, sustained by Divine grace.

Remember my definition of sanctifying grace: friendship with God. Lost by sin in the Garden, where Adam and Eve walked and talked with God in friendship, our original friendship with God has been restored by God himself, Emmanuel, God is with us, Jesus Christ, who became man, walked amongst us, befriended us, taught us his way of love, and laid down his life for us in the Cross.

So sanctity is first and foremost a gift from God, a Divine initiative that begins in Baptism. John, as he says, baptized in water, but he who is to come would baptize in the Holy Spirit and power. Baptism has a symbolic meaning, yes, as many came to John acknowledging their sins, but Jesus would bring the transforming power of the Holy Spirit, which not only forgives sins, but also makes us anew.

This makes it possible for us to enter deeper into friendship with God. And here's the key: deeper friendship. Saint Therese of Lisieux says “The more joyfully souls do His will, the greater is their perfection.” In other words, there are degrees of perfection. She says, “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.”

As I have said before, there are an infinity of goods out there from which we can choose, and authentic free will is choosing among those many goods. So it is possible to avoid evil, choose good – the basis for the moral life – and still be on the way of perfection. The way of perfection is not a constant struggle between good and evil. That is the beginning of the spiritual life. The road that follows consists in seeking, knowing, and following God's will more perfectly each day in our lives.

So, St. Teresa of Avila would say, “The highest perfection consists not in interior favors or in great raptures or in visions or in the spirit of prophecy, but in bringing our wills so closely into conformity with the will of God that, as soon as we realize he wills anything, we desire it ourselves with all our might… bitter with the sweet, knowing that to be his Majesty’s will.”

To grow more and more perfect means to unite ourselves more and more to the Will of God. Our perfection can be measured by the degree to which we do the will of God and find happiness in doing so. Sin is not the only thing opposed to God's will, as even attachment to other goods, our self or the world, may prevent us from acting in union with God's will. And this union of our will with God's is not mere obedience, but it is delighting in God's will as a true source of happiness.

So what is God's will for our lives? God's will, in general, is expressed in the commandments of God and the Precepts of the Church. As Jesus said, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” And in his life, he founded a Church to continue proclaiming the Kingdom to all times and peoples, and the teachings and precepts of the Church are the accumulated wisdom, guided by the Holy Spirit, which continues to deepen our understanding of Christ.

In a more concrete and particular way, God's will for our lives is expressed in the duties of our state in life and the various circumstances of life. The duties of our state in life determine how we are to act in our daily lives. For most of us, that is our responsibility towards family, work, community, and church.

We also discover God's will revealed to us in the circumstances of our lives, important events and even down to seemingly insignificant details. Whether it be health or sickness, poverty or wealth, dryness in our spiritual lives or rich consolation, success or failures, loss or struggle. He also gives us countless opportunities each day to exercise the virtues on a day to day basis, charity, patience, generosity, sacrifice, and courage.

It could be said that sanctity is essentially summed up in the fulfillment of duty. And since we all have our duties, and we all have grace through friendship with God, it is possible for each one of us. And Advent is a great time to make progress in perfection. As Saint Peter concludes, “Therefore, beloved, since you await these things, be eager to be found without spot or blemish before him, at peace.”

Firm to the End

2011-11-26T14:08:00.003-05:00

Homily, 1st Sunday of Advent, Cycle B 2011
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., Pastor, Saint Joseph's, Dalton GA

While our culture has already begun the “Christmas season” with shopping, shopping, Christmas music, shopping, shopping, Christmas decorations and food, the Church celebrates Advent, a time of expectation and hope. We are awaiting the celebration of the birth of our Savior, and so we prepare ourselves accordingly. I suppose this attitude of expectation is present in our secular celebrations of Christmas, as we know, our children are anxiously awaiting that morning they can open their presents. But as adults, we should channel that same enthusiasm into celebrating Christ's first coming as a child in Bethlehem, and waiting in joyful hope for his Second Coming in glory.

The catechism says this about Advent, “when the Church celebrates the liturgy of Advent each year, she makes present the ancient expectation of the Messiah, for by sharing in the long preparation for the Savior’s first coming, the faithful renew their ardent desire for his second coming.” (CCC 524) We pray with Isaiah in the first reading, “Return for the sake of your servants... the tribes of your heritage.
Oh, that you would rend the heavens and come down...”

The glory of his first coming should remind us that God is true to his promises. The entire history of Israel was a preparation for the coming of the Messiah, announced by all the prophets. And the Father fulfilled his word by sending his only Son on that Christmas day. And if he was true to his promises then, he will be true to ones he has made, for he will come again in glory at the end of time.

As St. Cryril put it, “His first coming was hidden, in a stable in a small town outside Jerusalem. His future coming will be for all to see as he comes with the Heavenly Jerusalem. At his first coming, he was wrapped in swaddling clothes in a manger, at his second, he will be clothed in light as in a garment. In his first coming, he endured his Passion, despite its shame, enduring the mockery and humiliation by the soldiers; in the second, he will come in glory, escorted by an army of angels.” (Office of Readings, 1st Sunday of Advent)

When he came the first time, he sought to teach us his way of love by gentle persuasion, so that we would freely choose him; but when he comes again, the time for learning and choosing and growing will be complete.

Our Lord says in today's Gospel, “Be watchful! Be alert! You do not know when the time will come... May he not come suddenly and find you sleeping. What I say to you, I say to all: 'Watch!'”

Saint Augustine comments on this passage, wondering if the Lord's Second Coming is something to be feared: “'My brethren, the appointed time is short... But I wish you to be without anxiety' [as Saint Paul says]. He who is without anxiety waits without fear until his Lord comes. For what sort of love of Christ is it to fear his coming? Brothers, do we not have to blush for shame? We love him, yet we fear his coming. Are we really certain that we love him? Or do we love our sins more? Therefore let us hate our sins and love him who will exact punishment for them. He will come whether we wish it or not. Do not think that because he is not coming just now, he will not come at all. He will come, you know not when; and provided he finds you prepared, your ignorance of the time of his coming will not be held against you.” (OOR, 33rd Sunday)

That's why Isaiah prays, “Would that you might meet us doing right, that we were mindful of you in our ways!”

So, if we are to be prepared for his second coming, we must invite him into our lives today. Perhaps some of us will live to see that glorious day, but all of us, without doubt will meet him face to face in the silence of death, and that meeting is something we should prepare for every day. And how do we do this? Well that’s why in Advent we where purple: because it has a penitential character. If we are to prepare for the coming of our Lord, the traditional way is to do penance, and Scripture offers three ways, which Jesus himself taught in the Sermon on the Mount: prayer, fasting, and almsgiving.

By prayer, we get to know the Lord so that when we meet him, he won’t be a stranger, but someone we long to see face to face. By fasting, we imitate our Lord Passion, by voluntarily making acts of sacrifice and self-denial. To show that our hope is in heaven, not in things of this earth. And by almsgiving, we give of ourselves for the sake of others in reparation for sin, for as Scripture says, “love covers a multitude of sins.”

Early in my priesthood, one of my mom's best friends died... I celebrated her funeral fifteen years ago today right before Thanksgiving. She was diagnosed with cancer before my father was, and the two of them struggled with it together for a long time. Well, on a Saturday night after the joy of a wedding, I had a chance to visit her and her family a few hours before she died. We all gathered around and prayed together, laughed a bit and cried a bit. And then the husband says to me: “Paul, remind me to give you a present that Ann bought for your new niece.” And I was amazed, for here she was, struggling with cancer for over two years, and in the final days of her life, all she could think of was giving of herself to others. And she lived her whole life that way: they used to say of her, “You can’t out-nice her.”

One of the oncology nurses at the hospital, who has certainly seen a lot of people die, remarked that she had rarely seen so much love around a woman, that she must have been a remarkable person. And she summed it up very simply by saying, “people die like they live.” And my friend died surrounded by the love she had so freely given all those years.

My friend was prepared because she was prepared every day. By living the Gospel command to be watchful and ready, to prepare through prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, she was prepared when her final moment came. What have you done today to prepare for Jesus’ coming. Have you prayed? Have you made acts of sacrifice and self-denial? Have you given of yourselves to others? Have you made a good confession?

If we trust in the Lord and live in joyful hope of his Coming in Glory, then that day, whether it be at the end of time or at the moment of death, will be a time of rejoicing. For, as Saint Paul says, “God is faithful... He will keep you firm to the end, irreproachable on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

Faith Demands Works

2011-11-19T18:56:00.006-05:00

Homily, Christ the King, A 2011
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., Pastor, Saint Joseph's, Dalton GA

I once read a reminiscence written by a prominent theologian who taught at a major university. She was traveling across country to give a lecture, and it was an exhausting trip, as she had to change trains a couple times and found it difficult to eat while traveling. As she walked through one terminal, her fatigue and hunger overcame her, and she fainted at the foot of a staircase. Nearby, there was a small group of homeless men. One of them left the group and came over and helped her. He helped her up and gently sat her down on the stair. He then went off for a moment, returned with a cup of water, and stood their anxiously as she drank it up. Then he went off again, got a porter from the train she was headed to, and then helped pile her bags on the carrier. As she was leaving with the porter, she weakly tried to thank him, but he waved off her thanks with the simple words, “Oh, you’d have done the same for me!”

That day, she learned a lesson no book could have taught her: that faith is seen in works, and God is made manifest in his people, especially the most needy in our midst. She never imagined that she would be the needy one and that the least among us would be the servant.

During the Protestant Reformation in the early 1500's, a familiar term regarding salvation was “sola fide,” Latin for “by faith alone.” The reformers, at that time, accused the Catholic Church of departing from the “simple purity of the Gospel” of Jesus Christ. They stated it was faith alone, without works of any kind, that brought a believer to eternal life. They defined this faith as “the confidence of man, associated with the certainty of salvation, because the merciful Father will forgive sins because of Christ's sake.” Martin Luther appealed to passages from Saint Paul to justify his claim. In Romans 3:28, Saint Paul says, “Therefore we conclude that a man is justified by faith without the deeds of the law.” And in Galatians 2:16, he reiterates, “We may be justified by the faith of Christ and not by the works of the law.”

All Christians will be able to agree on the following two truths: salvation is by grace alone, as Saint Paul says, “For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not from you; it is the gift of God” (Ephesians 2:8) and salvation is through Christ alone, as Saint Peter says in Acts, “There is no salvation through anyone else, nor is there any other name under heaven given to the human race by which we are to be saved” (Acts 4:12). On these key points we agree with our Protestant friends.

But what about works, does faith alone save, do works play no role in our salvation? Is faith nothing more than believing and trusting? Is this enough to be saved?

Well, Saint James was apparently responding to this concern very early in the history of the Church. Perhaps even then, some had put too much emphasis in Saint Paul's words. So Saint James says very clearly, (James 2:14-17) “What good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can that faith save him? If a brother or sister has nothing to wear and has no food for the day, and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, keep warm, and eat well,” but you do not give them the necessities of the body, what good is it? So also faith of itself, if it does not have works, is dead.”

Another way to look at it: We are justified by faith. Our faith is justified by works. You can't have one without the other. In fact, Saint James says emphatically, (James 2:24,26), “See how a person is justified by works and not by faith alone... For just as a body without a spirit is dead, so also faith without works is dead.”

Jesus as well would say that there would be people who would claim to know him, but “Not everyone who says Lord, Lord, will enter the Kingdom of Heaven, but rather he who does the will of my Father” (Matthew 7:21). Here, Jesus clearly links salvation with doing God's will. And he explains further in today's parable of the Last Judgment.

The King will say to those on his right, the Just, “Come, you who are blessed by my Father. Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.”

The Righteous will protest, “Lord, when did we see you...” And the King makes it clear that loving God means loving neighbor, especially the most needy, “Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of the least brothers of mine, you did for me.”

The consequence of this is that some will be separated from him, on his left, the wicked, and will be condemned. Why? For not serving him in the needy, as Saint John Chrysostom says: “No one has ever been condemned for not decorating the church for Christmas. But hell awaits those who despise the needy, who are a temple more valuable than any church.”

As the King will say, “Depart from me, you accursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels... 'Amen, I say to you, what you did not do for one of these least ones, you did not do for me.' And these will go off to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.”

Another way to look at it: we are saved by faith, we are judged by works. Saint James would put it this way (James 2:18): “Indeed someone might say, “You have faith and I have works.” Demonstrate your faith to me without works, and I will demonstrate my faith to you from my works.”

Last summer, ‎Archbishop Charles Chaput was interviewed about his new assignment in Philadelphia. He was asked about serving the needy, as Christ demands in today's Gospel, and he could not have put it more succinctly, “We can't preach the Gospel and not live it. If we don't love the poor, and do all we can to improve their lot, we're going to go to Hell.”

And this love is a demanding love, after all, it is modeled by Christ on the Cross. The love asks sacrifices of us, loving till it hurts. A good example of this is something that was reported in Chattanooga last summer, in the Times Free Press. [Original story here. Follow up here.]

They told the story of Mary C., a homeless woman who appeared beyond help, “a mentally retarded, epileptic and partially paralyzed woman who spent months homeless on the streets of Chattanooga late last year and the first half of 2011 until she was taken in by Nancy R., a retired organizational psychologist.” When she first saw her, “the woman was slumped, face down on a Market Street park bench. Her arms hung limp, and a filthy, stainless steel walker stood beside her. Plastic bags, stuffed with urine-soaked clothing and blankets, bulged on the sidewalk.” Many thought Mary was a drunk, prone to angry outbursts, and she “had been turned away from nearly every social service help system Chattanooga has to offer.”

But Nancy thought to herself that the woman might be someone's mother, so she stopped to help her. No one had taken the time to get to know Mary, about how as an infant her father threw her on the floor, giving rise to her retardation and epilepsy. She was abused, abandoned, institutionalized, eventually ending up on the streets of Chattanooga, where she suffered robberies, beatings, even rapes.

Over a couple of months, Nancy got to know her, listened to her stories, and believed her. She also began to advocate for her. Mary had an IQ of 51, and even Nancy, with a doctorate, found it difficult to work the maze of requirements and paperwork demanded by various social service agencies. At one point it was so difficult that Mary cried out in despair, “I'm not fit to live. I'm a burden to everyone.”

But they persisted and made it through the dark times. Eventually, Nancy helped Mary reunite with her sisters after 20 years, helped her get the mental health services she needed, and just this past October, helped her get a home, working with another advocacy group for the disabled.

Nancy's motivation for doing so much to help and abandoned homeless woman? “I just wanted a happy ending,” she said. And so does God, in my opinion.

Christ is present in the needy amongst us, often in, as Mother Teresa would say, “in a most distressing disguise”, and our faith demands works.

It's Not About Me

2011-10-29T12:49:00.010-04:00

Priesthood Sunday, October 30th, 2011
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., pastor, Saint Joseph's, Dalton, GA
Click here: Interview with Fr. Paul on ChurchNext.tv.

Last night, I had an opportunity to participate in some Georgia Tech homecoming festivities with my fraternity brothers, many whom I haven't seen in many years – we're approaching our 25th anniversary. I was really glad I went, because it was delightful to see how they were doing, hear about their families and careers, and to remember the good times. It was a blessed evening. They were happy that I was a priest and doing well (they got over their surprise about my call to the priesthood years ago), and I bragged a lot about our parish. They, of course, along with family and other long term friends, were not used to calling me “Father”, but that doesn't bother me, because they knew me well, long before I was given the title. But some smiled when they attached my college nickname to the title, so they called me “Father Willie”. Only they can call me that...

This Sunday, the Church celebrates Priesthood Sunday and encourages the faithful to express their gratitude for their priests and pastors, to pray for them, and to reflect a bit on the meaning of the priesthood. Earlier this week, I was interviewed by an Episcopalian priest for his website, “Church Next”, which helps Protestant pastors to build their congregations in this age of Mega Churches, so he wanted to talk to someone from the original Mega Church, the Catholic Church, and I was the first Roman Catholic priest on his site. The Archdiocese referred him to me because we have a very large, growing parish, perhaps the biggest bilingual Catholic parish in the South.

When he asked for any insights to pass onto other pastors about their role in growing churches, I said, “as a pastor, I remind myself each day that 'it's not about me.'” It's about the people of the church, who I serve as the least among them. That's the ideal at least. Jesus reminds the Pharisees of this in today's Gospel. They were fond of titles, being called “Rabbi” or “Father”, “they love places of honor at banquets, seats of honor in synagogues, greetings in marketplaces.” These things will come, but they are not deserved and are not to be sought as an end in themselves. It's a simple reminder that with positions of honor and authority come great responsibility and obligations to serve, not be served, as Christ himself modeled for us.

In his admonition to the Pharisees, Jesus warned them of the errors they had made, the pits they had fallen into and their attempts to drag others along with them. They were so caught-up in the practices of their religion that they had forgotten its principles. If you remember my sermon from a couple of weeks ago, I spoke of how a Christian should view worldly affairs, starting with our fundamental principles, which guide our general policies, that we then put into concrete practice. Principles are universal, applicable to all, and inviolable. Policies are the guidelines we use to serve those principles and make them present; they are overlying philosophies that can admit different approaches to the same principles. And practice is the level where we apply the principles and policies to individual circumstances, making exceptions and adjustments as necessary.

These same guidelines can be applied to how we view our life in the Church. The Church has its fundamental truths that it protects, lives and teaches – it's principles that are unchanging and universal. It has its policies, which are guidelines flowing from those principles, that apply them to each age. It has its practices, which allow, for example, an individual parish to adapt to its unique situation, guided by policies and true to principles.

A good example is the upcoming liturgical translation of the Roman Missal that we'll begin using fully on the first Sunday of Advent, just a few weeks from now. The Mass is the Mass, the highest expression of worship of the Church. It has its essential elements, the Word, the Eucharist, the Consecration, Holy Communion, and so on. We have policies that adapt it to different regions and languages and settings and seasons. And we develop individual practices that can change and apply to the whole church or allow adaptation to each local parish.

So with the new translation, the Mass is still the Mass, holy and reverent as always. The language is now adapted to a new policy that includes a more direct translation of the Latin. And we as a parish have chosen a new musical setting for the sung Mass parts, that may differ from our neighboring parishes, but still sings the same Mass that belongs to the whole Church.

And we priests, of course, have some flexibility for individual preferences. We have the honor of celebrating the greatest gift Christ gave to his Church, but it is not our Mass, it is His, given to His people. But we do bring our own style, because we cannot help but be unique individual human beings. As long as this style affirms the Church's universal principles, are within its polices and acceptable practices, then hopefully the different styles of priests will be a source of nourishment, not division.

So, on this Priesthood Sunday, I ask you to appreciate, or tolerate if necessary, these differences. And realize an important aspect of what Jesus teaches in today's Gospel that applies especially to the attitude of the faithful towards priests and the priest's understanding of himself. Jesus says, “call no one on earth your father.” He is using hyperbole (not literal) to remind us that we have only One Father in Heaven, and that our earthly fathers, our parents or our priests, are but instruments of the Divine Father.

I look at it this way: love your priests, appreciate them when they guide you closer the Lord, but do not hang your faith on them. Saint Paul warned the Corinthians (1 Cor. 1:12), do not say “I belong to Paul”, “I belong to Apollos”, or “I belong to Cephas”. In other words, do not put your faith in the one who teaches, but in the One who is Taught, the Teacher of all. Be grateful to the teacher, but do not set yourself up for a fall should he fail you. And that's my concern today. Priests are human instruments of God's Grace, especially in the Word and Sacraments. But like everyone, we are in a continual process of overcoming our weaknesses and growing in virtues. This means that we will inevitably disappoint you, but since we're on the same Path, with your eyes fixed on Christ and not on his instruments, it will not stop you on your Journey. Only our Lord never needs your forgiveness, we priests do need it and are grateful for it.

I'm very grateful to be here at Saint Joseph's, and I hope to be here for many years to come. As I have learned in my 16+ years as a priest, the priesthood is not about me, it's about Christ. We priests will come and go, with our different policies and practices and "style", but the parish will continue no matter the priest or pastor. And it is my hope that you appreciate their gifts, lovingly tolerate their foibles, but most importantly, keep your eyes fixed on Christ, our True and Eternal High Priest.

Believe in Miracles - My Niece's Baby Story

2011-10-26T14:39:00.006-04:00

(This is my sister Romi's letter to her oldest daughter, Mary Virginia, on the occasion of her 15th birthday. True story. - Fr. Paul)

Mary Virginia's Baby Story

Where shall your Daddy and I begin? As you well know, your Momma named you after the Blessed Mother in my twenty’s when I became a Roman Catholic. This, of course, was years before I met your handsome Father. When I was dating your Father and I was beginning to ask God for confirmation if he was indeed “The One,” he mentioned that his mother was named “Mary Virginia.” Hmmmm … Isn’t God funny? I always knew in my heart that my first child would be a little girl named “Mary Virginia.”

After we married and after we were told we had a fertility problem, we went through a very difficulty time where our faith was tested. We were challenged by well-meaning people about “invitro fertilization” and “why didn’t we try it, etc …”; however, we stuck by our Catholic beliefs and trusted that God would take care of us in some way. I even imagined a little Chinese “Mary Virginia” but for some reason I couldn’t quite place her face.

My Daddy, your P.D., died in September 1995 after a long painful battle with cancer. He suffered a great deal for his family and offered all of it up for us. I asked him if he would speak with the “fertility” angel in heaven and see if he could do anything for your Daddy and me. He said he didn’t know how Heaven worked but that he would see what he could do.

Finally, in February 1996, we made the decision to adopt an Indian “Mother Theresa” baby. Long story short - The day after we mailed the application off, we discovered we were pregnant. Oh and have I mentioned that same day was my Daddy, your P.D.’s, birthday! Isn’t God Great?

As you are aware, my pregnancy was not an easy one. I firmly believe that I had to suffer for you and your sisters. I don’t know why. But some gifts come at a cost. I was not surprised, however, at the sonogram at 19 weeks that I was carrying a girl. Shocker! I knew you before you were born.

As you are also aware, I developed high blood pressure (pre-eclampsia) and you and I almost died on the operating table during my emergency c-section. I will spare you the details but it was really close there for a while. Again, God is Great and very, very Good.

You and I both went through a difficult time for a while afterwards. I didn’t even get to meet you for the first couple of days because we were both so sick. Finally, a nurse in the middle of the night rolled me down the hall after saying it was time to meet my daughter! How blessed your Daddy and I were to be surrounded by loving family during this difficult time. Meme and Aunt Gi-Gi were there the first night and then everyone else arrived. We were able to celebrate your Daddy’s birthday in the hospital the day after your birthday!

It is also very nice having a priest in the family since Uncle Father Paul was able to give last rites twice to me, once before you were born and again after. Not to mention that you were baptized on your birthday! At first the Doctors told us you had heart problems, then intestinal problems, then breathing problems … Would the Hell ever stop? Eventually though, after 3 ½ weeks, we were able to bring you home on a heart monitor.

How I remember that first night! First, we called the nurses at Northside Hospital because you wouldn’t stop crying (how embarrassing), then your heart monitor went off around 4:30 am and your Daddy jumped up in his underwear to run downstairs to confront the burglar he thought was breaking in the house. Ah, good times! Don’t worry – I won’t bring up your constipation problems! Love those glycerin suppositories!

There was your first bath where you pooped in the tub. Or how our cat Soccer ate through your heart monitor during an ice storm and the hospital sent a courier in the storm with a new one. Baby Kate, blanket, Casa the Barbie, memories … Again good times!

How proud your Daddy and I are of what a lovely young woman you are becoming! You have a confidence that I wish I had at that age. Always know that no matter what, we love you unconditionally. We may get angry with you or not approve of a decision you make but we will always love and support you. There is nothing you cannot tell us; however, know that your Aunt Gigi, Aunt Sharon, Uncle Father Paul or even Meme and Grandma are available to help soften the blow if necessary.

I remember one of the nurses that took care of you when you were born saying not to worry about “premie” babies. They are tough! She is exactly right. What with our moves and changing schools so many times, you hold your head up and just charge straight in. You are kind and funny and giving (if you would just not fight with your sisters so much). By dancing with that shy boy at the Homecoming Dance this past weekend, you showed how confident you are in yourself and how aware you are that there are other people who need a little kindness. It is not hard to be nice, is it?

I often think about P.D.’s promise to talk to the “fertility” angel in heaven and I catch myself getting sad that you didn’t get to meet P.D. – especially when playing volleyball which he loved to watch me play! But then I remind myself there were too many God-incidences that confirmed my Daddy’s intervention on our behalf. Let’s not forget you and P.D. both have that red birthmark on the back of your necks. Meme and I are convinced it was a kiss from your P.D. to you and to us to let us know that he has not missed a thing and that you met him in Heaven before you came down to us.

As we close this letter, we are amazed that it has been 15 years ago that you were given to us! And we look forward to all of the years ahead. Keep making good prayerful decisions. We know that God has got quite a blessed life planned for you!

We love you!

Momma and Daddy
October 18, 2011

Politics and the Kingdom

2011-10-15T14:26:00.005-04:00

Homily, 29 Ordinary Time A (10-16-2011, SJCC, PDW)

This past week, I spent some valuable time with my best friends while I was on vacation. Naturally, when we get together, we discuss the issues of the day, and many of our discussions can be quite animated, and my friends and I have strong opinions. We often disagree on some political issues, but we remain friends. Many of you have probably experienced the same thing: being close friends with someone who has political views that are totally opposite of yours. I call it the “beer and pizza” analogy: with a good friend, you can sit down and argue, disagree, raise your voice and wave your hands in the air, yet still go home at the end of the evening as close friends.

Well, how should a Catholic Christian view politics? What Jesus says in today's Gospel is a guideline that the Church has used throughout the centuries, “Give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.” Each has its proper place. The Christian is to be both a good citizen on earth and a good citizen of heaven. The two do not necessarily conflict. But a deeper understanding of what this means is required. For example, the Catholic Church itself does not endorse specific candidates or parties, but we do take stands on issues: respect for life and marriage, social justice, human rights, poverty, and so on.

Why is this? Well a seminary professor of mine explained it to me this way. A Christian looking at worldly matters ought to be guided by three things: principles, policies, and practice. Now principles are those universal truths that guide all of our actions. This is the level of religion, because these truths come from divine revelation (Scripture and the teaching of the Church), or from natural law (those truths that we know from our human nature and the order of creation). These truths form the basis of all that we are and hold dear. Examples of principles would be: belief in the dignity of all human beings, regardless of race, class, nationality, or religious beliefs; respect for life; the call to help the poor and the needy; the need for peace between nations and an end to war; and so on.

Then flowing from those principles are policies which help us make these principles a reality. And this is the level of politics. Different political parties and views can have the same principles, but differ in how they go about achieving them. For example, one party may believe the government ought to help the poor in one way while the other party may believe the government ought to achieve the same goal in a different manner. Neither is right or wrong in the universal sense as both want to help the poor. But, either may be right or wrong in a practical sense. In other words, two good and sincere people can hold different beliefs about the policies necessary to go about serving the poor, and it remains to be seen which one actually succeeds at achieving the goal in a way that respects our principles.

And this leads then to the level of practice. While policies can provide us with general guidelines about how to go about achieving our principles, our policies cannot be absolute and unyielding. There may be certain circumstances and cases where exceptions may need to be made or mercy granted. At the level of practice are those concrete situations on a day to day basis where, guided by our policies we actually go about the work needed to achieve our goals, using our judgment and discretion in individual cases. So, those are the three p’s: principle, policy, and practice.

Looking at it this way, we can see then the role that our Christian faith plays in the political arena. We, as Christians, are guided and motivated by the principles of our faith, and we seek to make those principles a reality in the world by the policies of our various political parties. And our faith demands then that we be active and work on a daily basis for the practical aspect of our political views. We can’t simply sit back and believe and hope in our principles. Instead we need to be active and participate in the political process to bring them about. That’s why the Church encourages us to be good citizens, voting and contributing to society. Thus, in our Church we can have Democrats and Republicans, Libertarians and Independents, all in the same pew, worshiping together, holding the same universal principles, yet perhaps disagreeing on the levels of policy and practice.

Archbishop Chaput reminds us that this is right and a duty of all Christians, "The Church claims no right to dominate the secular realm. But she has every right - in fact an obligation - to engage secular authority and to challenge those wielding it to live the demands of justice. In this sense, the Catholic Church cannot stay, has never stayed, and never will stay 'out of politics.' Politics involves the exercise of power. The use of power has moral content and human consequences. And the well-being and destiny of the human person is very much the concern, and the special competence, of the Christian community." (p. 217, see below)

However, there are a few dangers, a few pitfalls that may trip us up if we’re not careful. C. S. Lewis, in his novel, “The Screwtape Letters”, points them out. If you’ve never read it, I highly recommend it. His book is a fictional collection of letters from a demon supervisor named Screwtape to a demon in training named Wormwood. He tells his young associate how to go about the task of leading their “client”, a person, into the arms of their “father below”, namely the devil in hell. And in one of the letters, he recommends this: tempt the fellow to make his politics a religion. In other words, have him embrace a political party and then elevate it to the level of principle, as if the policies of that party are divinely revealed and absolute. If he can do this, then his political opponents become “the enemy”, enabling him to demonize them as if they’re heretics, violating the law of charity and mutual respect. On the other hand, if that doesn’t work, Screwtape explains to Wormwood, have him reduce his religion to the level of politics. In other words, have him make his Christian faith merely an extension of and justification for his political views, working only for a worldly kingdom, forgetting the goal of our religion, namely preparing ourselves for heaven.

Certainly, we see many people falling into these traps today. When I see one political party or candidate demonizing another, they have elevated their politics to the level of religion, where their political views are absolute and anyone who sincerely disagrees with their policies can be portrayed as the enemy or the devil. Or, when I see someone using their Christian faith to justify their political views, they have reduced their religion to mere politics. And I see this happening on both ends of the spectrum, liberal and conservative, especially when I see politicians speaking in churches. The Catholic church doesn’t allow that, perhaps because we learned our lesson in the Middle Ages when the Church was overly involved in politics. But it seems that sometimes many forget the lessons we learned and the wisdom of the founding fathers who wanted a separation of Church and State. Separation of Church and State doesn’t mean the absolute exclusion of religion from public life. On the contrary, it means that our faith should form the principles we believe in, that we should be active in the public arena with mutual respect.

The keyword in Jesus' expression, “Give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God” is “give”. What lies at the heart of being a good citizen on earth and in heaven is service, “love God and love your neighbor as yourself.” It was through the gift of himself on the Cross that Jesus taught us what true love, true service means: laying down your life for your friends, indeed even for your enemies. As Jesus said, “the Son of man came to serve, not to be served” and “if anyone wishes to be first, he shall be the last of all and the servant of all.” So our involvement in worldly affairs should always have service of the good of others at the forefront. Too often, I have observed, politics is reduced to “what is best for me.” A Christian cannot live that way, nor can he separate service of God from service of neighbor.

A good example of a Saint who demonstrated this authentic Christian view of service and politics was King St. Louis of France. Though he was a man of great worldly power and influence, he was a man who knew Christ as his King. He lived a prayerful and devout life and considered sin his worst enemy. He once said that he would rather be a leper than commit a single mortal sin. But he was also a wise and just ruler, who worked to end the political squabbles and feuds among his people. And he knew that to be a Christian meant working to help the poor and the needy, so he established many institutions for doing so. But more importantly, he did it himself, allowing some indigent people to live in his palace and daily serving meals to the poor nearby, often serving them in person.

But I like the story of St. Louis for this reason. Near his room in the palace, he had a chapel built where many of his ancestors were buried. And each morning he would rise to visit the chapel where he himself would one day be buried. He did this simply to remind himself of death, that he would one day be accountable to his Maker and would be judged on how wisely and lovingly he had used his gifts. The story is told that one of his successors wanted the chapel moved, not wanting to be reminded of death, but the workers refused to move the remains of a Saint, so his successor simply built a palace elsewhere. But St. Louis knew why he was on this earth: to prepare himself for the Kingdom of Heaven.

And we can do the same if we live a life of service to others, working for true justice and peace, reconciliation among peoples and respect for the Gospel of Life, then perhaps we may hear the consoling words of our Lord, “Well done, good and faithful servant... inherit the Kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.”

Check out Archbishop Chaput's book, "Render Unto Caesar" Serving the Nation by Living Our Catholic Beliefs In Political Life.

On the 16th Anniversary of My Father's Death

2011-09-13T10:39:00.002-04:00

Homily for the funeral of Dr. Paul Donald Williams
September 15th, 1995. St. Andrew Catholic Church, Roswell, Ga.
Homilist: Father Paul D. Williams, Jr.

When my father was first diagnosed with cancer in late December, it was a trying time for my whole family. We were scared, we were sad, and we didn't want to lose our daddy. And this was a nasty cancer - from the very beginning, there was no hope, no cure, no treatment.

But we are not a people without hope. So my younger sister sent a letter to all of our friends asking them to pray for his healing - to pray a beautiful Catholic devotion called the "Divine Mercy" chaplet, from the diary of a young Polish nun named Blessed Faustina.

After that letter was sent, the most amazing things started to happen. People called, people visited, people wrote. Everyone was praying the Divine Mercy chaplet for my dad - Catholics, Protestants, Jews, Muslims, agnostics and even atheists. It was an amazing and beautiful thing.

But he wasn't healed.

Did all those prayers go unheard? No. Let me tell you a little about how those prayers were answered. By the medical books, we probably should have lost him before March, but it seems that God gave us some extra time. And during that time, a lot of wonderful things happened. He saw his oldest son ordained a priest. His youngest daughter give birth to her third child. And he was there when I baptized this grandchild of his, our namesake, baby Paul. And he saw each of his children blessed in so many ways.

He also experienced a small part of his dream - gardening. He completed his home in the mountains and planted orchards and herbs and vegetables. You should have seen how excited he was in the gardens. He was truly happy. And he was there to share it with his wife of 33 years. They were happy.

But there's another thing which that time gave him: time to prepare. I believe that God gave him this time in order to teach him, and us, a few things.

First, I believe, God wanted to show my father his boundless love for him. One day, he expressed to me his amazement at the overwhelming show of love and support he was receiving from all his friends, and he said, “Paul, I'm not worthy of so much love.” And I just replied, “Daddy, if all those people can show their love for you, then how much more must God love you. Their love is but a reflection of the endless depth of God's love for you.”

But also, I believe that God wanted to teach all of us about the meaning of suffering. Following God requires us to be identified totally with his Son, and that includes the Cross of Calvary. The Cross is not easy, and when your Cross is cancer, it is especially hard.

But when that Cross is freely accepted, it becomes glorious, for the Cross of Christ was the instrument of our salvation. And we are called to be united with Christ on the Cross, as St. Paul said, “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of his body, the church.” My father understood what that means. He accepted his suffering and offered it, in union with Christ, for all of you - for his family, his friends, and for all those whose lives he has touched. Why? Simply so that all of you would come to know the love and mercy of God, which he came to know through you.

And as the end was approaching, I have no doubt that his acceptance of suffering was efficacious. For during his last few weeks he was so very blessed: he reconciled himself with God and with his people, he said goodbye to his friends, and he was surrounded by his family to the end. And when the time came, I was there to give him last rites with all of us around him. And his last words to each of us were simply, “I love you.”

So, none of you worry about whether your prayers were answered. Believe me, they were, and they were answered abundantly - God's mercy is deep and powerful and wondrous and beautiful.

Now where do we go from here, what about we who are left behind? Well, very simply, we remember.

We remember all the good things: I'll never forget all those years we faithfully suffered through losing season after losing season with the Falcons, or the times we hunted and fished, or the times we'd just sit back and watch a good action movie together. He never pretended to be a saint, but he was, like Scripture says, a “just man”, an honorable man, who did his best to please God. We certainly have an abundance of good memories to hold close to our hearts.

But there is another way we can remember. My birthday was on the Feast of St. Monica, the mother of St. Augustine, and the reading for that day is the famous passage from his “Confessions”. He describes the end of her life and the discussion they had about heaven. They wondered what it would be like, as he says, to “share the eternal life enjoyed by the saints”. And as she is dying, she makes one request of her son, who is a bishop: “Son, as far as I am concerned, nothing in this life now gives me any pleasure. Bury my body wherever you will; let not care of it cause you any concern. One thing only I ask you, that you remember me at the altar of the Lord wherever you may be.”

Well, in my dad's final days, I read him that passage and told him that I too, would remember him always at the altar of the Lord. For, you see, as Catholics, we have been given a tremendous gift: the Eucharist, the body and blood of our Lord in communion. And it is here at the Mass, at the altar, where we most perfectly remember those who have gone before. For in the Mass, we are transported through time, as it were, to the foot of Calvary, where we look up at our Lord Jesus Christ on the Cross and say with the good thief, “Lord, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” And thus we are united with him, for as Jesus says, “The man who feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in him.” And there is the great gift: since we are the Body of Christ, we are truly united, even with those who have died and gone before us.

But not only will we remember him, he will remember us. Shortly before his death, my dad asked my younger sister to read to him from Blessed Faustina's diary, from a passage she wrote as she was approaching her own death. In it, she says, “My day is drawing to a close... The pure love of God draws me to heaven... the heights of heaven have drawn me close... I go to see your glory, which even now fills my soul with joy… In eternal happiness, I will not forget those on earth, I will obtain God's mercy for all, and I will remember especially those who were dear to my heart, and the deepest absorption in God will not allow me to forget them.”

So, you see, as my father has gone to be united with our Savior, he will not forget us, and we will not forget him. He will intercede for us, that we come to know God's love and mercy, and we will intercede for him, especially at the altar of our Lord, in the Eucharist. For in the Eucharist, we are united with him and he with us, all of us united together with our Savior Jesus Christ, and nothing, “neither life nor death, neither angels nor principalities, neither the present nor the future, nor height nor depth nor any other creature, will be able to separate us from the love of God that comes to us in Christ Jesus, our Lord.”

The Sunday Obligation

2011-08-27T20:42:00.002-04:00

Homily 22nd Sunday Ordinary Time, Cycle A
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., pastor, Saint Joseph's, Dalton GA

If someone were to ask you why Catholics must attend Mass each Sunday, would you be able to tell them why? You might say, “Well, we’re supposed to keep holy the Lord’s day.” And they might reply, “Yeah, but you can do that anywhere - stay at home, read the bible, listen to a good sermon on television.” Then you might say, “Well, it’s important to pray as a community.” And they might reply “Yes, but you can gather anywhere or just be with your family, why the Mass?” And then you might appeal to authority, “Well, it’s a law of the Church.” Well, why is it the law… the objections and the question why would still keep coming. Perhaps some parents here have had such discussions with your children.

Well, the answer to why is implied in both the reading from St. Paul and in the Gospel. Jesus reminds us that we must deny ourselves, take up our cross, and follow him to Calvary, and St. Paul says, “offer your bodies as a living sacrifice holy and acceptable to God, your spiritual worship.” And that’s the key: sacrifice.

Of all the things we can do on a Sunday to keep the Lord’s day holy – rest and relaxation as the Lord did on the seventh day, prayer, reading the bible, being with your family and the Christian community – it is only at the Mass that we can do the one thing we must do each week, and that is offer sacrifice – spiritual worship.

What does this mean? St. Paul says, “offer your bodies as a living sacrifice” and Jesus says, “whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” To offer sacrifice means that we must offer our whole lives.

And why must we do this at Mass? Because the Mass is the perfect sacrifice. The Mass is Calvary made present, and it is by the Cross that we are saved (CCC 1366). By participating in the Mass, we unite ourselves with our Lord, as if we were the good thief saying, “Lord, remember me when you come into your Kingdom.” The catechism describes it this way: CCC 1368, “In the Eucharist the sacrifice of Christ becomes also the sacrifice of the members of his Body. The lives of the faithful, their praise, sufferings, prayer, and work, are united with those of Christ and with his total offering, and so acquire a new value. Christ’s sacrifice present on the altar makes it possible for all generations of Christians to be united with his offerings.”

When we participate in the Mass, we are, in a sense, offering him our whole lives. Jesus asks rhetorically, “What can a man offer exchange for his very self?” And the answer is nothing, so you must then offer “your very self”, your whole self. When we come to Mass, we are doing this in time on a continuous basis. We are bringing him the last week, with all of its joys and sorrows, successes and failures, good deeds and weaknesses, and we are giving it to him, offering the past week to him and dedicating the next week to him. Some people do this even daily, each day offering themselves to God, united to Christ's sacrifice and receiving it’s fruits.

And what then do we receive when you make that offering and dedication? We receive the fruits of the sacrifice of Calvary, the Risen Body of our Lord. We unite our sacrifice to his, and he unites himself to us in communion, forgiving our faults, strengthening our weaknesses, consoling our sorrows, while giving us the peace he promises, the joy he gives to his servants.

This is how we are transformed, as St. Paul says, “by the renewal of our minds, so that we might judge what is God’s will, what is good, pleasing and perfect.” Weekly Mass keeps us focused on that time when the Lord will come again to “repay each man according to his conduct.” We continually renew ourselves, hopefully becoming more and more pleasing to him, transformed into the image and likeness of Christ.

The catechism defines our Sunday Obligation this way, 2180: “On Sundays and other holy days of obligation the faithful are bound to participate in the Mass.” It adds, “the faithful are obliged... unless excused for a serious reason (for example, illness, the care of infants) or dispensed by their own pastor.” So please keep in mind that this obligation is very reasonable. I define it as “you are obligated to attend Mass if you are able to attend Mass.” The Church does not want to impose heavy burdens on the people, but it does ask them to take seriously the Sunday Obligation. It also recommends that those who are not able to attend Mass should at least put aside an hour for the Word of God. You should do the same if you miss Mass for a non-serious reason.

Now, if we are able-bodied, and the Mass is available and accessible, and we have no serious obligations of health or caring for others, then not keeping holy the Lord’s day is as if we are telling the Lord, like Peter, “No thanks, Lord, I don’t need that Cross; I can find my own way; I don’t need to follow in your footsteps.”

But if we do understand the “why” behind this obligation, then perhaps we can say with the psalmist, “O God, you are my God, for you I long; for you my soul is thirsting... So I gaze on you in the sanctuary to see your strength and your glory. For your love is better than life; so I will bless you all my life; my soul clings to you; your right hand holds me fast.”

So if anyone should ask why you go to Mass each Sunday, you can ask them in return, “Why would I want to be anywhere else?”

Quién dicen que soy yo?

2011-08-21T10:44:00.004-04:00

Homilía 21 Domingo OT A
Padre Paul Williams, San José, Dalton GA USA

Este fin de semana, el Papa Benedicto se encuentra en Madrid España para la Jornada Mundial de la Juventud. Este maravilloso evento es una oportunidad para los jóvenes de todo el mundo para reunirse y celebrar su fe y escuchar al Papa. Una multitud de jóvenes están orando, confesando, asistiendo en la santa misa, y pasar el rato con otros católicos de tantas naciones - un gran signo de la unidad de la Iglesia Católica.

El Evangelio de hoy nos habla de San Pedro, el primer Papa, precisamente en el momento en que Jesús le anunció la función que tendría dentro de la Iglesia. Además nos informa de cómo Cristo gobernaría esa Iglesia fundada por El, a través de San Pedro y de todos los Papas que le sucedieran.

“Tú eres Pedro y sobre esta piedra edificaré mi Iglesia”, fueron las palabras de Jesús al que antes se llamaba Simón y que ahora llama “piedra” -o más bien “roca”. El Apóstol San Pedro es, entonces, la “roca” sobre la cual Cristo funda su Iglesia.

El Papa Benedicto es el sucesor de Pedro, el primer Papa, y las promesas que hizo a Pedro se siguen cumpliendo en la Iglesia Católica. El Padre se revela a nosotros en la persona de Cristo, y la verdad que Jesús vino a proclamar, las llaves del Reino de los Cielos, se transmite y confiada a la Iglesia y está protegido del infierno por el poder del Espíritu Santo.

Así que cuando el Papa habla a los jóvenes este fin de semana, está hablando sobre la verdad que nos ha transmitido la iglesia durante siglos a nuestro mundo moderno que todavía tiene que escuchar esas verdades. En su Mensaje a los jóvenes , dice, “La cultura actual, en algunas partes del mundo, tiende a excluir a Dios, o a considerar la fe como un hecho privado, sin ninguna relevancia en la vida social. Aunque el conjunto de los valores, que son el fundamento de la sociedad, provenga del Evangelio –como el sentido de la dignidad de la persona, de la solidaridad, del trabajo y de la familia–, se constata una especie de “eclipse de Dios”, una cierta amnesia, más aún, un verdadero rechazo del cristianismo y una negación del tesoro de la fe recibida, con el riesgo de perder aquello que más profundamente nos caracteriza.”

Como Jesús dijo a Pedro: "sobre esta piedra edificaré mi Iglesia", el Papa nos dice, “Es vital tener raíces y bases sólidas. Esto es verdad, especialmente hoy, cuando muchos no tienen puntos de referencia estables para construir su vida, sintiéndose así profundamente inseguros. El relativismo que se ha difundido, y para el que todo da lo mismo y no existe ninguna verdad, ni un punto de referencia absoluto, no genera verdadera libertad, sino inestabilidad, desconcierto y un conformismo con las modas del momento. Los jóvenes tienen el derecho de recibir de las generaciones que les preceden puntos firmes para hacer sus opciones y construir sus vidas.”

La Iglesia nos protege de esta mentalidad del relativismo y las modas del momento a través de su enseñanza. La enseñanza de la Iglesia es una guía segura y cierta en medio de la tempestad del mundo. Nos da ese punto de referencia sólido, Cristo, y nos muestra el camino a la verdadera libertad y la verdadera seguridad y la verdadera felicidad.

Jesús le pregunta a Pedro, “Quien dice que soy yo?” Esa es la cuestión central de nuestra fe, y la respuesta de Pedro ha sido nuestro guía por dos milenios. Dice el Papa “la fe cristiana no es sólo creer en la verdad, sino sobre todo una relación personal con Jesucristo. El encuentro con el Hijo de Dios proporciona un dinamismo nuevo a toda la existencia. Cuando comenzamos a tener una relación personal con Él, Cristo nos revela nuestra identidad y, con su amistad, la vida crece y se realiza en plenitud.”

El Papa Benedicto nos anima, “construye su casa sobre roca. Intente también ustedes acoger cada día la Palabra de Cristo. Escúchele como al verdadero Amigo con quien compartir el camino de su vida. Con Él a su lado será capaces de afrontar con valentía y esperanza las dificultades, los problemas, también las desilusiones y los fracasos.”

Jesús promete a Pedro que “los poderes del infierno no prevalecerán sobre la iglesia.” Y el Papa Benedicto nos señala donde viene los ataques del maligno hoy en día, dice, “En efecto, hay una fuerte corriente de pensamiento laicista que quiere apartar a Dios de la vida de las personas y la sociedad, planteando e intentando crear un “paraíso” sin Él. Pero la experiencia enseña que el mundo sin Dios se convierte en un “infierno”, donde prevalece el egoísmo, las divisiones en las familias, el odio entre las personas y los pueblos, la falta de amor, alegría y esperanza. En cambio, cuando las personas y los pueblos acogen la presencia de Dios, le adoran en verdad y escuchan su voz, se construye concretamente la civilización del amor, donde cada uno es respetado en su dignidad y crece la comunión, con los frutos que esto conlleva.”

Este ideal de "la civilización del amor" se basa en la vida de las personas que saben quién es Cristo y responder por amarlo. En la Iglesia Católica, este conocimiento y el amor es muy concreto y práctico. Lo vemos sobre todo en los sacramentos que Cristo dio a la Iglesia. El Papa dice, “Queridos jóvenes, aprende a “ver”, a “encontrar” a Jesús en la Eucaristía, donde está presente y cercano hasta entregarse como alimento para nuestro camino; en el Sacramento de la Penitencia, donde el Señor manifiesta su misericordia ofreciéndonos siempre su perdón. Reconoce y sirva a Jesús también en los pobres y enfermos, en los hermanos que están en dificultad y necesitan ayuda.”

Y esta es la belleza de la Jornada Mundial de la Juventud. Los jóvenes de todo el mundo, representando todas las naciones y los pueblos están unidos en la fe profesada por Pedro, que se nos da a través de los testimonios de los Apóstoles, transmitido a nosotros por incontables generaciones de los Santos, se celebra con nuestro amado Papa Benedicto. Debemos orar por los jóvenes, que cuando regresan a sus países, encendido con el Espíritu de Cristo, que pueden compartir todos los pueblos de todo el mundo. Como concluye el Papa, “Cristo no es un bien sólo para nosotros mismos, sino que es el bien más precioso que tenemos que compartir con los demás. En la era de la globalización, sean testigos de la esperanza cristiana en el mundo entero: son muchos los que desean recibir esta esperanza.”

Who Do You Say That I Am?

2011-08-20T12:48:00.006-04:00

Homily 21st Sunday Ordinary Time, Cycle A
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., pastor, Saint Joseph's Catholic Church, Dalton, GA

This weekend, Pope Benedict is in Madrid Spain for World Youth Day. This wonderful event is an opportunity for young people from all over the world to gather and celebrate their faith and listen to the Pope. Countless young people are praying, going to confession, attending Mass, and just hanging out with other Catholics from countless nations – a great sign of the unity of the Catholic Church.

Our church is universal because it was founded by Jesus on Peter, who professed his faith in Jesus as the Christ, the Son of the Living God, as we read in today's Gospel. Jesus says to him, "Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah. For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my heavenly Father. And so I say to you, you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it. I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven. Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven."

The Pope is the successor to Peter, the first Pope, and the promises made to Peter continue to be fulfilled in the Catholic Church. The Father reveals himself to us in the person of Christ, and the truth that Jesus came to proclaim, the keys to the Kingdom of Heaven, is handed on and entrusted to the Church and is protected from the netherworld by the power of the Holy Spirit.

So when the Pope speaks to the youth this weekend, he is speaking that truth handed down to us over the centuries to a modern world that still needs to hear it. In his Message to the youth, he says, “today’s culture tends to exclude God, and to consider faith a purely private issue with no relevance for the life of society... we see a certain “eclipse of God” taking place, a kind of amnesia which, albeit not an outright rejection of Christianity, is nonetheless a denial of the treasure of our faith, a denial that could lead to the loss of our deepest identity.”

As Jesus said to Peter “upon this rock I will build my Church”, the Pope says to us, “it is vital to have roots, a solid foundation! Today, many people have no stable points of reference on which to build their lives, and so they end up deeply insecure. There is a growing mentality of relativism, which holds that everything is equally valid, that truth and absolute points of reference do not exist. But this way of thinking does not lead to true freedom, but rather to instability, confusion and blind conformity to the fads of the moment. As young people, you are entitled to receive from previous generations solid points of reference to help you to make choices and on which to build your lives.”

The Church protects us from this mentality of relativism and the fads of the moment through its teaching. The teaching of the Church is a sure and certain guide in the midst of the tempest of the world. It gives us that solid reference point, Christ, and it shows us the way to true freedom and true security and true happiness.

Jesus asks Peter the question, “Who do you say that I am?” That is the central question of our faith, and Peter's response has been our guiding light for two millennia. The Pope says, “Christian faith is not only a matter of believing that certain things are true, but above all a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. It is an encounter with the Son of God that gives new energy to the whole of our existence. When we enter into a personal relationship with him, Christ reveals our true identity and, in friendship with him, our life grows towards complete fulfillment.”

So that question is asked to each of us individually, “Who do you say that I am?” Do we define ourselves only by our family background, our place in society, our work and study, our accomplishments? Or do we define ourselves in reference to Christ? Jesus says, “But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given you besides.” All the gifts and challenges of life, our family, our work, our achievements, take on their true and greater meaning when seen in Christ.

The Pope encourages us, “Dear friends, build your own house on rock. Try each day to follow Christ’s word. Listen to him as a true friend with whom you can share your path in life. With him at your side, you will find courage and hope to face difficulties and problems, and even to overcome disappointments and set-backs.”

Jesus would promise Peter that the “the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against [the Church].” And the Pope points out where the attacks of the evil one come from today, he says, “there is a strong current of secularist thought that aims to make God marginal in the lives of people and society by proposing and attempting to create a “paradise” without him. Yet experience tells us that a world without God becomes a “hell”: filled with selfishness, broken families, hatred between individuals and nations, and a great deficit of love, joy and hope. On the other hand, wherever individuals and nations accept God’s presence, worship him in truth and listen to his voice, then the civilization of love is being built, a civilization in which the dignity of all is respected, and communion increases, with all its benefits.”

This ideal of a “civilization of love” is founded on the lives of individuals who know who Christ is and respond by loving him. In the Catholic Church, this knowledge and love is very concrete and practical. We see it especially in the sacraments Christ gave to the Church. The Pope says, “Dear young people, learn to “see” and to “meet” Jesus in the Eucharist, where he is present and close to us, and even becomes food for our journey. In the sacrament of Penance the Lord reveals his mercy and always grants us his forgiveness. Recognize and serve Jesus in the poor, the sick, and in our brothers and sisters who are in difficulty and in need of help.”

This individual love of Christ naturally expresses itself in community. The Pope says, “we come to see that our personal faith in Christ, which comes into being through dialogue with him, is bound to the faith of the Church. We do not believe as isolated individuals, but rather, through Baptism, we are members of this great family; it is the faith professed by the Church which reinforces our personal faith.”

And isn't that the beauty of World Youth Day? Young people from all over the world, representing all nations and peoples are united in the faith professed by Peter, given to us through the eyewitness of the Apostles, handed down to us by countless generations of Saints, is now celebrated with our beloved Pope Benedict. We should pray for our youth, that when they come home from this once in a lifetime event, on fire with the Spirit of Christ, they may share it with all peoples throughout the world. As the Pope concludes, “Christ is not a treasure meant for us alone; he is the most precious treasure we have, one that is meant to be shared with others. In our age of globalization, be witnesses of Christian hope all over the world.”

Prayer Motivated by Charity

2011-08-13T15:32:00.003-04:00

Homily, 20th Sunday Ordinary Time, Cycle A
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., pastor, St. Joseph's, Dalton GA

One of the most famous mothers in the early church was Saint Monica, the mother of Saint Augustine. Her son was a wayward young man for many years, but she never ceased praying for his conversion, nor did she cease in enlisting the aid of wise and holy people to try to dissuade her son from his errors. One day, she was imploring her bishop, St. Ambrose, to do something, and he said, “Go your way Monica; as sure as you live, it is impossible that the son of such tears should perish.” And indeed, St. Augustine later converted and become one of the greatest of the Fathers of the Church. He would write later, “If I did not perish in error, it was due to the daily tears of my mother, who was so full of faith.”

I imagine that St. Monica was familiar with the story of the Canaanite woman in today’s Gospel, for this story is a perfect allegory for the importance of prayer, and it teaches us several things we need to know about prayer if our prayer is to be fruitful.

First, it is important to realize who you are praying to. She presented herself to Jesus and cried out to him, “Lord, Son of David.” By calling him “Lord”, she used the hebrew word which was only used by the Jews to address Yahweh, or God. She first recognized his divinity. Then she recognized his humanity, calling him “Son of David.” With that brief title, she recognized the great truth of our salvation: that the Word became Flesh, the Son of God became one of us in order to free us from our sins. And it is only through him that we have salvation, indeed, only through him that we can pray, for he was the one who taught us to call God “Our Father”. The new catechism says this, (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. The sacred humanity of Jesus is therefore the way by which the Holy Spirit teaches us to pray to God our Father.”

The second thing that the Canaanite woman teaches us about prayer is that prayer is especially pleasing to the Lord if you consider other’s needs before your own. She came to the Lord and said, “Have pity on me, my daughter is terribly troubled by a demon.” Her only concern was the welfare of her daughter, and she had such empathy that her daughters needs became her own needs, “Have pity on me” not “have pity on my daughter”. St. John Chrysostom puts it this way, “Necessity obliges us to pray for ourselves. Fraternal charity obliges us to pray for others. God finds the prayer motivated by charity to be more meritorious than the prayer motivated by necessity.” (ICG, v4, p394) Perhaps St. Monica prayed in the same way, “Lord, have pity on me, for my son has truly gone astray.”

But also in today’s story from the Gospel, we see that at first, the Lord delayed in answering the woman’s prayer. St. Monica also prayed for years, and I can imagine that each of us have turned to heaven and wondered why it seemed that the Lord wasn’t listening or was delaying his answer. Well, one characteristic of prayer is that it must be patient and perseverant. In many of our Lord’s parables he taught us the necessity of what St. Paul says, “Praying without ceasing.” Remember the widow who kept asking the judge for a ruling in her favor, and it was eventually granted because of her persistence (Luke 18)? And remember the man who went and knocked on his friends door late at night and wouldn’t go away until he got the bread he needed? Persistence is a necessary component of prayer. Without it, you’re telling the Lord that your need isn’t that important after all.

And another lesson on prayer from today’s story: if our need is really important, we should enlist help. The Canaanite woman apparently asked the disciples first, so that they would present her petition to the Lord. And she was so persistent that they eventually went to the Lord and said, “Get rid of her Lord. She keeps shouting after us.”

In other words, “Grant her request already, so she’ll leave us alone.” And that, I believe is a perfect image of the Communion of Saints. Jesus delayed his answer until the disciples interceded for her. And, indeed, the Saints in heaven are constantly interceding for us and if we invoke their intercession, then we gather those “two or three” whom the Lord said would be necessary for him to be present and then grant whatever they ask.

So, prayer in communion, with others here on earth and with the Saints, is especially important. But the most important communal prayer is that of worship. When the Canaanite woman finally came forward, the Gospel says that she “did him homage.” She expressed her petition in the context of worship. You know, I can’t tell you how many men have told me that they don’t go to church anymore because they pray to God while they’re outside in nature. And, of course, what that means is that they’d rather be fishing on Sunday mornings. We used to have a joke in the seminary: Can you fish while praying? And the answer was “no.” Can you pray while fishing? And the answer was “yes.” In other words, when you’re supposed to be praying, you shouldn’t be fishing, but when you’re fishing, it’s perfectly OK to pray. If your prayers are to be fruitful, they should first and foremost be in the context of Christian worship, which, for us, is the Mass. Prayer in other contexts is fine and wonderful, but worship with the Christian community is of prime importance.

And that is the most important thing to learn from today’s Gospel, for we, as a community, are gathered to celebrate the greatest prayer of all, the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. I imagine that there are a lot of mothers out there today praying for their sons. I wonder how many sons are praying for their mothers today? When St. Monica was dying she told her son, “Bury my body wherever you will; let not care of it cause you any concern. One thing only I ask you, that you remember me at the altar of the Lord wherever you may be.” In other words, her dying wish was to be remembered in prayer at the Mass, which St. Augustine most certainly did.

And so today, if we bring all of our prayers and unite him to his sacrifice on Calvary, re-presented here at the Mass, and if we pray like the Canaanite woman did: with persistence and patience, considering others needs before our own, invoking the Saints in the context of worship, and uniting ourselves to the Sacred humanity of our Lord – then we can be confident that the Lord will hear our prayer and say to us, “You have great faith; your wish will come to pass.”

Keep Your Eyes Fixed on Jesus

2011-08-06T19:03:00.001-04:00

Homily, 19th Sunday OT A
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., Pastor

In the Gospel today, after the great miracle of the Multiplication of the Loaves, we witness another miracle: Jesus walks on water. The miracle here is not so much the “on water” part, but the walking part. Here the disciples in the boat were being “tossed about by the waves” with the wind against them. Not the only time the disciples find themselves in trouble at sea, frightened, except this time Jesus is not with them. Alone and on the troubled sea, you can imagine their fright and their crying out for help.

So the Lord comes to them, walking. Not running, not rushing or panicked. He comes to them calmly, walking on the sea in the midst of the torment. And the lesson is clear: for God, there are no troubles, and in Him, there is no fear.

Elijah experiences the same thing. He is told the Lord will be passing by, and he sees, “A strong and heavy wind was rending the mountains and crushing rocks — but the LORD was not in the wind... an earthquake— but the LORD was not in the earthquake... a fire— but the LORD was not in the fire... a tiny whispering sound...” and Elijah hid his face in his cloak, for there was the Lord in the whisper.

Life has its fill of tempests at sea, sudden storms, earthquakes and fires. But the Lord is none of those. Instead, he is peace, tranquility, serenity, calm, and courage. So he comes walking to the disciples and says “Take courage, it is I. Do not be afraid.”

Peter, overjoyed to see the Lord, but still incredulous, says “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” And Peter, with the great trust and faith in the Lord, begins to walk on the water too, still in the midst of the storm, because the Lord is stronger than the storm. But he makes a mistake: he took his eyes off Jesus. As long as he was looking at the Lord and walking towards him, he was fine. But he looks around.

It was a command that brought Peter out on the water. His walking on the water depends not on the sea or its circumstances, but on the Will of the Lord, who rules heaven and earth, the winds and the sea. He forgets that he was sustained by this Will; his faith in the One who can do all things wavers. He no longer thinks about the presence of the Lord and his strength and peace, but instead he lets the storms of the world fill his mind, pushing out the Lord. He sees how strong the wind had become and the fear returns, and Peter begins to sink. But he still has the presence of mind to call out “Lord, save me.” Jesus still has not rebuked the storm - it still rages - and he was pleased with Peters trust and faith. But he stretches out his hand and catches Peter. “Oh you of little faith, why did you doubt?”

Only then do the winds die down. And those present know that only God can command the waves and the sea, and they worship him. “Truly, you are the Son of God.” The lesson we learn is simple: in the midst of trouble, keep your eyes on Jesus. He will come to you walking, calmly and will stretch out his hand to you should you falter.

Christ walks in our midst today. He has given so much to us, despite our little faith and frequent doubts. Saint Paul reminds us of the blessings we have received. He speaks of his people, the Israelites, “theirs the adoption, the glory, the covenants, the giving of the law, the worship, and the promises; theirs the patriarchs, and from them, according to the flesh, is the Christ, who is over all, God blessed forever.” The Church is now the heir to those promises. The boat on the troubled waters is the Church in the midst of the world, and Christ comes to her with his hand outstretched.

Ours is the adoption: by baptism we are made children of God, created anew, born again, adopted into his family, and have access to the fullness of salvation in his Holy Catholic Church, truly the People of God.
Ours is the glory: the Glory of Christ fills us, and his Glory is the Cross. In the sacrifice of service, we share in his glory, His Body on Earth, building up his kingdom on earth so that we might prepare all for the glory that awaits us.

Ours is the New and Everlasting covenant: the Law of the Gospel, preached by Christ and written on our hearts. He will be our God, we will be his people. And this is his New Commandment: Love one another as He has loved us. (CCC 1970)

Our is the giving of the law, for Christ guides his Church infallibly through the ages, through its moral teaching and the guidance of the Magisterium, the teaching authority of the Church, which is a sure and straight guide against the tempest of each age.

Ours is the worship: He gave us the sacraments, sanctifying our ordinary life, making us holy, to strengthen us on our journey. He gave us the incredible gifts of Sacred Scripture and the Mass, where his sacrifice at Calvary is made present so that we can participate in it and share in its fruits.

Ours is the promise: the Promised Holy Spirit poured out on the Nascent Church at Pentecost, the promise that the gates of Hell would not prevail against this Church that Christ founded on Peter.

Ours are the Patriarchs: we have the witness of two thousand years of Saints, who are, as it were, soldiers of Christ, laying down their lives so that their fellow people might be guided by their example, and guarded by their prayers of intercession.

And from us, according to the flesh, is the Messiah, who gives us his very flesh, his body and blood, in the Eucharist, so that we might partake of him and become like him, sharing in his divinity.

Lord, why did you do this to me?

2011-07-16T13:47:00.004-04:00

Homily, 16th Sunday Ordinary Time A
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., Saint Joseph's, Dalton Georgia

St. Teresa of Avila was the greatest mystic in the history of the Church, and the first woman to be declared a Doctor of the Church, meaning that the Church considers her writings among the finest examples of true Christian doctrine and her life to be a model for us all. Well, the story goes that she was riding in her carriage one day, going from one convent to another, when suddenly she was thrown off, slammed rudely to the ground, and deposited in the middle of a mud puddle. She looked up to the heavens and said, “Lord, why did you do this to me?” And God answered her, “This is how I treat all my friends.” And St. Teresa replied tartly, “Then, Lord, it is not surprising that you have so few.” (Kreeft, Making... p.15)

All of us, it seems, even Saints, wonder why God allows evil and suffering. In today’s Gospel, Jesus speaks of the reality of the existence of evil and sin and suffering in the world, that the weeds will coexist with the wheat until the harvest at the end of time. Indeed, just looking at all the evil and suffering in the world is evidence of the truth of what Jesus said. Innocent people die at the hands of murderers everyday, be it in war or on the streets. Good, faithful people, even children, get diseases and suffer and die. Hurricanes, droughts, earthquakes kill thousands of people, seemingly indiscriminately. But it’s not just the suffering out there, it’s the everyday suffering which especially bothers us, as the Gospel says, all too often even households and families are divided against each other.

Sometimes, it seems, God doesn’t play fair, and even those who pledge their love for him suffer. Indeed the Psalms lament, “Why do the wicked prosper and the just suffer?” Tough delimna we have here. If God exists, as we believe; and if he is all-good, as we believe; and if he is all powerful, as we believe. Then, how can evil and suffering exist? Either he doesn’t exist, he isn’t all good, or he isn’t all powerful. After all, if he was truly God, he could have simply never allowed the enemy to plant the weeds and we could live in a perfect world. Yet we, as Christians say that he is all of those things.

So, how do we understand this problem? First, we need to understand what evil is. There are basically two types of evil: physical evil, and moral evil. Physical evil results from a disharmony in the world of nature. Moral evil results from disharmony in the human soul, sin.

But it is important to realize what evil is not. It is not a thing. It does exist, but it is not a positive reality that exists on its own. There seems to be a common belief today that good and evil are co-eternal, that one cannot exist without the other. As if there will always be good and always be evil, and we are destined for an eternal struggle, as if the Devil is the opposite of God. But that is not the Christian belief. Instead, evil is best understood as the lack of a good that ought to be. In other words, evil is a privation, a lack, a loss of some good that was supposed to be there. In this way, evil always refers to a good, like the weeds in the Gospel that can only grow up in the middle of the wheat, but not apart from it, preying on the good, as it were.

But, why does evil exist? Couldn’t God have created the perfect world where there was no evil, no suffering? Yes, he could have. But he didn’t. Why? For two reasons: first, physical evils exist because he chose to create a world which, as the new catechism says, is in a “state of journeying to its ultimate perfection” (CCC 310), so that there will always be physical evils - privation, lack - as long as creation has not reached that fulfillment. And the second reason is this: moral evils exist because God respects the freedom of his creatures – true freedom means to choose among the many goods that God has given us, but it also contains within it the ability to misuse that freedom and choose evil. Moreover, this freedom gives us the ability to truly love, because love involves the denial of ones own desires for the sake of another. Only a free person can do that. (CCC 311) So, God does not cause these evils, but they are a permitted consequence of true freedom.

And there’s the problem, why does God permit evil? Couldn’t he redirect the hurricane, protect the innocent, and cure the sick? Well, the answer lies in the Gospel parable today where the wheat is taken from the harvest at the end of time and the weeds are thrown away and burned. For God in his power and goodness, can draw good out from evil, by allowing the wheat to coexist with the weeds, he allows the wheat to reach maturity, to reach its fullness.

St. Thomas Aquinas explains it this way (CCC 412), “God permits evil in order to draw forth some greater good.” And Saint Augustine said, “For almighty God, because he is supremely good, would never allow any evil whatsoever to exist in his works if he were not so all-powerful and good as to cause good to emerge from evil itself.” In other words, evil doesn’t have to exist, but God permits it because he can draw good from it.

So, the ultimate answer to the problem of evil is not a thing, but a person, the person Jesus Christ. For from the greatest moral evil ever committed – the rejection and murder of God’s only Son, caused by the sins of all people – God brought the greatest of goods: the glorification of Christ and our own redemption. By taking on our humanity and embracing our suffering and confronting our evil, Jesus gives us two things: meaning to our suffering, and consolation through our suffering. Though he healed the sick and expelled demons, he never promised to free us completely from evil or suffering, but he did promise to show us its meaning, and to help us through it. Because of this, no one can ever look at God and say, “You don’t understand my pain, my hardship, the crosses I have to carry.” Because he does understand it, for he bore the greatest cross in the world, the Cross of Calvary, out of love for us and to save us.

By facing evil and enduring suffering with perseverance, patience, and charity, as Jesus did, we identify ourselves with our him, and his sufferings become ours, and ours become his. And what does this accomplish? Our own salvation and the redemption of the whole world.

You know, of all the answers out there to the problem of evil and suffering, Christianity is the only one that confronts it head on. Some would try to get rid of suffering by denying the existence of God and therefore removing all meaning from our lives. Others would try to deny suffering by eliminating people who suffer. But Christianity looks at the reality of suffering and finds its meaning in light of God’s love and the Cross.

And this Gospel parable which shows us of God’s infinite patience with the world, allowing the weeds and the wheat to coexist so that he might draw good from it, also tells us how we ought to view the world around us. In the world of souls, the bad seed, the weeds, can become good wheat, through repentance and conversion and God’s grace. Through patient and consistent love, we prepare ourselves and those around us for that true kingdom of perfection, the Kingdom of Heaven.

Prejudicing the Soil Towards Roses and Strawberries

2011-07-09T14:33:00.003-04:00

Homily, 15th Sunday OT A
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., St. Joseph's, Dalton, Georgia

Today I am happy to welcome my little sister, Andrea, and her family. You may remember when I talked about my sister in last year's Amazing Race. If you like, after Mass, she will be happy to sign autographs. But the reason she is here tonight is that my niece, Allesandra, is here to celebrate her First Communion with her Uncle Father Paul. I have always been amazed at my sister and her children's love of their faith. How she manages to pass on her faith so effectively to her children, indeed all ten of them, is something that continues to impress me.

There are two important things that parent's need to know when trying to raise their children in the Catholic faith: First, faith is a gift; God goes about sowing the seed - the message about His reign - everywhere, even on the footpath and the rocky ground and the thorns. But secondly, this gift needs to be cultivated. St. John Chrysostom said it this way, “How is it [possible] to sow seed among thorns, or rocky ground or the footpath? For it is impossible that rock should become soil, or that the footpath should not be the footpath, or that thorns should not be thorns. But with [souls] it is otherwise; there it is possible that the rock be made rich soil, that the footpath should be no more trodden upon, and that the thorns should be extirpated.”

When we look at it from the perspective of a parent cultivating this gift of faith in a child, it can get kind of discouraging, especially in today’s world. I know many parents who try their best to raise and educate their children in the faith, yet sometimes are saddened when there appears to be no effect.

So if we are to cultivate the gift of faith in our children, we must seek to make them rich soil. We do this by removing the rocks, pulling the weeds, and not letting them grow up amidst the thorns. The rocks are the bad example we give them as they grow, and includes ways in which we do not live the Gospel, which make us out to be hypocrites in their eyes, or by not raising them well in the faith – simply sending them to CCD but not following up at home or by only requiring that they do the bare minimum to be Catholics, as is witnessed by the number of kids who drop out of religious education after confirmation. The weeds are the various influences of our culture which teach our children to be materialistic, hedonistic and selfish. We must guard our children against these things, especially those we find on television or popular culture. And, finally, the thorns are other people in our culture who have long since abandoned any Christian faith or values who harm our children by leading them astray into non-Christian ideas and practices. We must protect our children from them and give them the strength of faith so that they can one day defend themselves.

Samuel Taylor Coleridge has an interesting anecdote that may illustrate the dangers of not cultivating faith. He told this story: “I showed a friend my garden and told him it was my botanical garden. ‘How so?’ said he, ‘it is covered with weeds.’ - ‘Oh,’ I replied, ‘that is only because it has not yet come to its age of discretion and choice. The weeds, you see, have taken liberty to grow, and I thought it unfair of me to prejudice the soil towards roses and strawberries.’” In other words, it is the responsibility of parents to sow good virtues in their children, and not fall into this false belief that they can “decide on their own what to believe.” As Chesterton pointed out, the danger is not that they will believe in nothing, but that they may end up believing in anything.

But I think the parable of Jesus, and this anecdote from Coleridge, applies not only to how we should raise our children, but also to how we should cultivate our own faith.

My sister and I visited Bosnia several times in the 1980's, and I was always amazed to see the lay of the land. The mountains there are very rocky, and throughout the countryside, you can see stone walls, some thousands of years old. These are from the farmers who had to first clear the land of rocks before sowing their seeds. I spoke to some of the families who said that it took sometimes years or even decades to clear enough land to support just one family, and they did this through backbreaking labor – there weren’t many back-hoes or tractors around. In some places, the only way they could clear the land was with dynamite.

Well, we have to do the same for our souls. Like the farmer who cultivates his crop by removing rocks, pulling weeds, and getting rid of the thorn bushes, we must make our souls rich soil so that the seed of faith may grow to bear fruit. The rocks we must remove are the mortal sins which keep us from God: the capital sins of pride, avarice, envy, wrath, lust, gluttony, and sloth. (CCC 1866). The thorns are the venial sins which choke us off from further growth. And the weeds are those occasions of sin or idle thoughts, which quickly grow into thorns or even rocks if we do not remove them quickly. Like the farmer, this may take years of backbreaking work just to clear the field, and continuous work to keep it free of weeds and thorns, but that’s what the Christian faith requires. Practically, we do this through daily prayer, attendance at Mass, regular confession, active works of charity, and seeking reconciliation among ourselves and our community.

If we can do this, cultivating the gift of faith in our own lives and in that of our children, by cooperating with God’s grace, then we can be confident that the Lord will bring us to harvest in the eternal kingdom, as Isaiah said, “Just as from the heavens the rain and the snow come down and do not return there till they have watered the earth, making it fertile and fruitful… so shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth; it shall not return to me void, but shall do my will, achieving the end for which I sent it.” And that end, that goal, is our salvation.

El Yugo Pesado Sobre Inmigrantes

2011-07-03T09:09:00.004-04:00

Homilia 14 OT A - Inmigración
Padre Paul Williams (gracias a Padre Francisco Fernández-Carvajal)

Quiero pedir perdón a todos aquellos de origen hispano. El Estado de Georgia, donde nació y crecía, se ha aprobado y aplicado ahora una nueva ley contra los inmigrantes. La nueva ley es lamentable y una violación de la dignidad humana básica.

Nuestra parroquia ha participado en muchos aspectos, tratando de llamar la atención sobre este problema. Hemos hablado con el alcalde de Dalton, el jefe de la policía, los miembros del gobierno del condado. Hemos tenido reuniones para el diálogo entre los grupos defensores de latinos y líderes comunitarios. Hemos escrito cartas al gobernador, legisladores estatales y líderes nacionales. Nuestros feligreses han hablado con los periodistas y televisión.

Nuestros obispos, el señor arzobispo Gregory y señor obispo Zarama, también han intervenido en nombre de los inmigrantes. Han dicho en una declaración pastoral:
“Las Sagradas Escrituras nos enseñan que todos los seres humanos son creados a imagen y semejanza de Dios, que somos redimidos por Jesucristo, y que estamos llamados a compartir las cargas de los demás. Las Escrituras exigen una atención especial a los extranjeros, forasteros y otras personas vulnerables.

“...La dignidad humana y los derechos humanos de los inmigrantes indocumentados deben respetarse en todo momento, sea en el trabajo, en el hogar, en la escuela o en su participación en la vida comunitaria.

“...Como sus pastores, nos parece inaceptable que los niños sean separados de sus padres y sus familias, o que comiencen cada mañana preguntándose si este es el último día que verán a su madre, a su padre o a sus hermanos.

“... muchas personas indocumentadas continúan viviendo en las sombras, sin la seguridad básica u otros derechos humanos. A pesar de que a muchos se les retienen de sus salarios los impuestos federales y estatales, y de que todos pagan impuestos sobre ventas y otros gravámenes, saben que ser víctimas de un crimen o de un accidente de tránsito puede resultar en su arresto y deportación.

“Para la mayoría de estas personas, no hay una “línea” en la que esperar o “papeles” que firmar, porque nuestro sistema de inmigración roto no permite la posibilidad de su entrada legal a los Estados Unidos...

“Las personas de buena voluntad pueden no estar de acuerdo sobre la manera en que se puede lograr la reforma, pero no podemos alcanzar una reforma duradera, hasta que la disertación pública se concentre en soluciones, no en ataques personales sobre quienes ofrecen un apoyo fundamental a nuestra sociedad.

Ellos concluyen, “Al continuar nuestro llamado a los delegados en el Congreso para que apoyen una reforma abarcadora de inmigración, exhortamos a nuestros representantes estatales de Georgia a resistir la imposición de medidas legislativas severas e innecesarias que afecten a todos los residentes de Georgia, lo que rasgará aún más el tejido de nuestras comunidades, y pondrá en peligro nuestro futuro.”

El Señor nos dice en el Evangelio, “vengan a mí, todos los que están fatigados y agobiados por la carga, y yo les daré alivio.” Solo nuestro Señor puede darnos la paz y la tranquilidad de corazón que buscamos. En verdad, nuestro Señor no le quita todas nuestras cargas. Él llevó nuestros dolores y nuestras cargas más pesadas. Y nos manda que tenemos que tomar nuestro yugo sobre nosotros. De él nos aprendemos de que nuestro yugo es realmente suave y nuestra carga ligera.

El Evangelio es una continua muestra de la preocupación por todos de Jesucristo: «en todas partes ha dejado ejemplos de su misericordia», escribe San Gregorio Magno. Resucita a los muertos, cura a los ciegos, a los leprosos, a los sordomudos, libera a los endemoniados... Alguna vez ni siquiera espera a que le traigan al enfermo, sino que dice: Yo iré y le curaré. Aun en el momento de la muerte se preocupa por los que le rodean. Y allí se entrega con amor, como víctima de propiciación por nuestros pecados; y no solo por los nuestros, sino también por los de todo el mundo.

Para ser fieles discípulos del Señor hemos de pedir incesantemente que nos dé un corazón semejante al suyo, capaz de compadecerse de tantos males como arrastra la humanidad. La compasión fue el gesto habitual de Jesús a la vista de las miserias y limitaciones de los hombres: “Siento compasión de la muchedumbre...”, recogen los Evangelistas. Cristo se conmueve ante toda suerte de desgracias que encontró a su paso por la tierra, y esa actitud misericordiosa es su postura permanente frente a las miserias humanas acumuladas a lo largo de los siglos. Si nosotros nos llamamos discípulos de Cristo debemos llevar en nuestro corazón los mismos sentimientos misericordiosos del Maestro.

Nosotros debemos imitar al Señor: ayudando a a los demás a sobrellevar las cargas que tienen. Siempre que nos sea posible, asistiremos a otros en sus sufrimientos, en sus miedos, y en sus debilidades, en las cargas que la misma vida impone: El Santo Escrivá nos dice, «Cuando hayas terminado tu trabajo, haz el de tu hermano, ayudándole, por Cristo —¡Esto sí que es fina virtud de hijo de Dios!».

Liberar a los demás de lo que les pesa, como haría Cristo en nuestro lugar. A veces consistirá en prestar un pequeño servicio, en dar una palabra de ánimo y de aliento, en ayudar a que esa persona mire al Maestro y adquiera un sentido más positivo de su situación, en la que quizá se encuentre agobiada por hallarse sola.

No estamos solos. Somos el Cuerpo de Cristo, la iglesia una, santa, católica, y apostólica. El Señor nos dice, “No tengan miedo. Ustedes creen en Dios crean también en mí.” Podemos rezar la Misericordia Divina, “Jesús, en ti confío.”

The Heavy Yoke Placed on Immigrants

2011-07-03T08:35:00.003-04:00

Homily 14th Sunday Ordinary Time, Cycle A
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., pastor, St. Joseph’s, Dalton, Georgia

When Jesus refers to the “wise and the learned” in today’s Gospel, he was referring to the Pharisees, Scribes, and the leaders of the people of whom he said “They bind heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on men's shoulders” (Mt. 23:4). For them, religion is a list of rules and regulations for how others ought to behave, and in their righteousness and arbiters of the law, they particularly liked to pile up these burdens on the weak, the defenseless, and the voiceless, almost making it impossible to live the Law and the Prophets as God truly intended.

Some Rabbis saw this and had a parable to illustrate the point. “There was a poor widow in my neighborhood who had two daughters and a field. When she began to plough, Moses (i.e. the Law of Moses) said, ‘You must not plough with an ox and an ass together.’ When she began to sow, he said, ‘You must not sow your field with mingled seed.’ When she began to reap and to make stacks of corn, he said, ‘When you reap your harvest in your field, and have forgotten a sheaf in the field, you shall not go back to get it’ (Deut. 24:19), and ‘you shall not reap your field to its very border’ (Lev. 19:9). She began to thresh, and he said, ‘Give me the heave-offering, and the first and second tithe.’ She accepted the ordinance and gave them all to Him. What did the poor woman then do? She sold her field, and bought two sheep, to clothe herself from their fleece, and to have profit from their young. When they bore their young, Aaron (i.e. the demands of the priesthood) came and said, ‘Give me the first-born.’ So she accepted the decision, and gave them to him. When the shearing time came, and she sheared them - Aaron came and said, ‘Give me the first of the fleece of the sheep’ (Deut.18:4). Then she thought: ‘I cannot stand up against this man. I will slaughter the sheep and eat them.’ Then Aaron came and said, ‘Give me the shoulder and the two cheeks and the stomach’ (Deut.18:3). Then she said, ‘Even when I have killed them I am not safe from you. Behold they shall be devoted.’ Then Aaron said, ‘In that case they belong entirely to me’ (Num.18:14). He took them and went away and left her weeping with her two daughters." (Barclay, Matthew, Volume 2, p. 16) The point of this parable was to illustrate how ridiculously burdensome and unjust the law becomes when interpreted by men who forget the dignity of each human person.

That's why when Jesus makes his famous, beautiful, and comforting statement, “Come to me, all you who labor and are burden, and I will give you rest”, he was speaking to the “little ones”, the poor, the widow, the orphan, the stranger, the “least of his brothers”. Those who labor, who are exhausted, come to Jesus and find rest. Those exhausted on the search for God, those exhausted looking for what is Right and what is Wrong, those exhausted with their daily duties and obligations, those exhausted with the burdens others have placed on them, those exhausted in their own struggle with sin, these come to Jesus and learn from his meekness and humility of heart. They find rest from a world that is confused about sin, capricious in its judgments, unkind and unjust to the weak, and many times simply cruel.

They find rest for their souls if not for their bodies in the person of Jesus. He came not to lift the burdens from us, but to carry them with us. He took upon himself the sorrows of the world because he shares in our sorrows and weeps when we weep. That’s why we have such great devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, the feast day we celebrated this past Friday. His Divine Person has a human heart that loves, feels, and sorrows as we do.

Wherever he goes, the Evangelists tell us, “his heart is moved with pity for the crowds.” He cures the sick, gives sight to the blind, touches the leper, casts out demons, and raises the dead because of a widowed mother’s tears. Even on the cross, he shows mercy to the repentant thief.

This consolation, however, comes with a price. He says “Take my yoke upon you...” His yoke is his commandments, to love one another as he has love us. To lay down one’s life for one’s friends. This is an obligation imposed on us, the only burden Christ lays on us. But he says that his yoke is easy, his burden is light. A closer translation of “easy” is “well-fitting” (Barclay). Like the ox who has a custom-made yoke that fits well, tailored specifically to each ox so that it will not chafe or bruise, so also the Yoke of Christ. We each have our duties, our obligations, our burdens that we have no choice to carry. But we can choose to carry them with Christ, and they take on a new character, they become a joy, for a burden carried with love is no burden at all.

And it does not end there. Not only are we to take up our own Cross and follow after Him, we are to lighten the burdens of others. If we are to imitate Christ, we must view the world with his eyes. Have compassion on the crowds - the “little ones”, the poor, the widow, the orphan, the stranger, the “least of his brothers”. The religion of Jesus is not one which imposes impossible burdens on others, but seeks to make the ones people do carry light and easy, and not to add burdens which are unjust, capricious, and as Archbishop Gregory has said, “mean-spirited”.

I am speaking of course, of Georgia’s new immigration law, which ironically goes into effect the weekend we celebrate our freedom. Those who came here believing in that freedom are now being told that they are to have no part of it. Political cowards in their statehouses, the wise and the learned, have penned laws that label human beings created in God’s image and likeness as “illegal” and “criminals”. Are they? By man’s law, perhaps. By God’s law? Look at the results: families are divided, children who know no other home than Dalton are being sent to what is for them, a foreign country, people guilty of no serious crime are detained and deported, often separated from their families for months or more. In the name of political expediency, young people who call Dalton home and speak English with a Southern Drawl are told they are undesirable: they cannot legally get a driver’s license and will be detained and deported for not having one; they do well in our local schools but are told they cannot receive a higher education; they want to work and make a life for themselves in this land of the free, but are told they cannot work legally. Good people, as much as 30% of your brothers and sisters here at Saint Joseph’s, are living in fear, and many have already left.

Christ is there on the Cross, carrying the burden of our sins, and we have refused him. As St. Augustine would have Jesus tell Peter on the Mount of the Transfiguration, when Peter thought he was in heaven and wanted to stay, “Come down, Peter: you desired to rest on the mountain; come down, preach the word, be persistent in season, out of season, reprove, rebuke, exhort with all long-suffering and teaching. (2 Tim 4:2) ... The glory [you see] has been reserved for you, Peter, but for after death. For now, Jesus says to you, ‘Go down to toil on earth; to serve on earth, to be scorned and crucified on earth. [I am the] Life who goes down to be killed; [I am the] Bread who goes down to suffer hunger; [I am] the Way goes down to be exhausted on his journey; [I am the] Fountain who goes down to suffer thirst; and you refuse to suffer? Seek not your own. Have charity, preach the truth; then you shall come to eternity, where you will find your rest.’” (CCC 556)

I for one, have no intention of resting while our brothers and sisters in Christ are suffering and carrying this heavy burden.

Father Juan's First Mass on Trinity Sunday

2011-07-02T11:49:00.005-04:00

Father Juan Jose's First Mass at Saint Joseph's, Trinity Sunday 2011

We were privileged yesterday to attend Juan José Teran's ordination to the preisthood yesterday at the Cathedral. He is a member of our parish and is now serving in the Archdiocese of Atlanta. Join me in expressing our warm congratualtions to Juan and his family who are present today.

And now Juan, you are a priest. Who would have thought it? Well, let me tell you this: God thought it, for he not only called you to the priesthood, he gave you the grace to respond to his call. And I am sure that I echo the thoughts of all here today when I tell you what great joy it gives me now to address you as “Father.”

Well, Father, what I’d like to do is this: I’d like to propose for you a few models for your priestly ministry.

1. The first model, I propose, is our patron, St. Joseph. Cultivate a strong devotion to St. Joseph, because I believe he will help you in many ways. It is no coincidence that Catholics call their priests “Father”, for a priest must have the qualities of a family man. St. Joseph’s example of hard work, humble service, and self-sacrificing dedication to others will help you to be a “Father” to the people in your parish. So, model your ministry on St. Joseph, the family man.

But, St. Joseph also helps you in another way, for like you, he was called to and accepted the gift of celibacy. Now, as you and I both know, celibacy is something that is often misunderstood or looked down upon in our culture today. I’m reminded of what St. Paul said towards the end of his ministry: (2 Tim. 4:6), “For I am already being poured out like a libation.” In the ancient world, a libation was something precious, like fine wine or sacred oil, which was poured out on the ground in sacrifice as an offering to God. In the eyes of men, it appeared to be wasted, but in the eyes of God, it was a precious act of sacrifice which showed trust and dependence on Him.

And now, Father, you are that libation. In the eyes of the world, the call to celibacy you have accepted will appear to be a waste. But in God’s eyes it will be a precious gift. You will pour out your life in service of others, sacrificing your own desires for a family, so that you can be a father, brother, and son to all of God’s people - part of a much larger, spiritual but very real family - the Church.

But you know what else St. Paul would say? (Philip. 2:17-18), “But, even if I am poured out as a libation upon the sacrificial service of your faith, I rejoice and share my joy with all of you. In the same way you also should rejoice and share your joy with me.”

So, Father, rejoice in your call, share your joy with God’s people. And for all of you, rejoice as well in Father Juan’s call and give thanks to God that he responded.

2. Now, the next model for your priesthood that I would like to propose is Moses (first Reading). Now, Father Juan, I’m not talking about the Charleton Heston version of Moses in the movie - where he comes down from the mountain, with the glory of God showing on his face, his gray hair and beard blowing in the wind with thunder and lightning all around, and the two tablets of the commandments in either hand. (So, I’m not telling you to grow a beard and add a touch of gray...)

No, I’m talking about the Moses we find in Scripture. When he went up to Mount Sinai to be with the Lord and was gone for forty days, the people lost faith, sinned, and fashioned the golden calf to worship. God was going to punish them so that they would never reach the promise land. But, you know what Moses did? He implored the Lord, pleaded with the Lord, and begged the Lord to have mercy on his people. As the Israelites would sing for a thousand years afterwards in the psalm (106), he “stood in the breach before him.” And God heard his prayer, had mercy, and they reached the promised land.

And Father, that is your job: to get on your knees every day and pray for God’s people, to stand in the breach between God and man. Pray that they come to know his mercy, that they set their sights on heaven. We live in a confused world, Father. The golden calves being worshiped are many, it seems that few people seek the promised land of heaven, and you must help them to find Jesus Christ. And we live a very broken world, Father. So many of God’s people carry burdens they are afraid to carry, weaknesses they fear cannot be overcome, sins they believe cannot be forgiven. And your job, Father, is to be a healer not a judge, a source of strength not of despair, the flame of God’s mercy not the instrument of his wrath.

And Father, you will do this especially in the confessional, where people will come to you with these burdens. And take that duty very seriously, Father. For God himself wants you to stand there in the person of his Son, offering his people hope, consolation, pardon, peace, and the forgiveness of their sins.

3. As the next model for your priesthood, Father, I offer you Saint Paul. Follow his example and preach the truth no matter what the cost.

That great preacher St. Paul would say three things about preaching, which I would like to give you. First he said, (1 Cor. 9:16) “If I preach the gospel, this is no reason for me to boast, for an obligation has been imposed on me, and woe to me if I do not preach it!” You have been given a very serious obligation by God himself to preach, and woe to you if you do not carry it out. Next, St. Paul would say, (1 Cor. 9:14) “In the same way, the Lord ordered that those who preach the gospel should live by the gospel.” So you have the duty of not only proclaiming the Gospel, but also of living it as an example to others. Archbishop Gregory said yesterday that this means you may be held to a higher standard - the people expect it of you, as well they should. And this Gospel that you preach, this Gospel that you live, what is it? Well, finally, St. Paul would say, (2 Cor. 4:5), “For we do not preach ourselves but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your slaves for the sake of Jesus.” Your call to the priesthood, Father, is not about you, but about Jesus Christ. At my ordination, they sang “Non Nobis Nomine Domine”. That’s the first verse from Psalm 115, “Not to us, Lord, not to us, but to your name give the glory.” Your service, your priesthood, your very life is for His glory, so that people may come to know His name.

So, Father, like Stephen, preach Jesus Christ, preach the truth as handed down in his Church since the time of the apostles, preach it no matter what the cost, and preach it with mercy, like Stephen. His attackers would cover their ears so as not to hear what he was saying, but even as they stoned him, he prayed for them, “Father, do not hold this sin against them.” Preach the truth with mercy, Father. Preach what St. Paul would call “the inscrutable riches of Christ.” (Ephes. 3:8)

4. And so finally, Father, model your priesthood on him, the great high priest, Jesus Christ our Lord. And how appropriate it is that today’s Gospel is the high priestly prayer of Jesus from John 17. Look what he says, “I do not pray for my disciples alone. I pray also for those who believe in me through their word.” Who is he praying for? He’s praying for you and the people you minister to. What a great obligation you have been given - people will come to believe in him because of you - because of the witness of your life, the mercy you show, and the word that you preach. Model your prayer on Jesus’: “That they all may be one” - that the world may know the love and mercy of God - that our unity may be complete by living in him, and he living in us.

Now, Father, I have been telling you about all the great obligations you have accepted: celibacy, forgiving sins, preaching the Gospel, praying for God’s people. But, your greatest obligation is why we are gathered here today: the Eucharist. I’ve told you already that your call to the priesthood is not about you, but about Jesus Christ. As a priest, you stand before us “in persona Christi”, in the person of Christ. You are so identified with him through your ordination that when you act in the sacraments, Jesus Christ acts through you. And in a few minutes, when you lift up that host, you will dare to say, “This is my body”, and that simple host will become the Body of our Lord, so that we may be one with him and he may live in us. And when you lift up the cup and say, “This is the cup of my blood”, you will be lifting up the cup of salvation, and that precious chalice will be filled with the Blood of our Lord, the price paid for our redemption. How can you dare to say those words? Because it will be Jesus Christ saying those words through you, with you, and in you.

And so Father Juan, I’ve said enough. These people didn’t come here today to hear me preach, they came here to meet Jesus in the Eucharist, through you, our priest. So I’ll end with the words of St. John at the end of the book of Revelation, “Amen! I am coming soon. Maranatha! Come, Lord Jesus!”

Lauda Sion! Corpus Christi 2011

2011-06-26T11:08:00.005-04:00

Laud, O Zion, your salvation, Laud with hymns of exultation,
Christ, your king and shepherd true:
Bring him all the praise you know, He is more than you bestow,
Never can you reach his due.

Special theme for glad thanksgiving Is the quick'ning and the living
Bread today before you set:
From his hands of old partaken, As we know, by faith unshaken,
Where the Twelve at supper met.

Full and clear ring out your chanting, Joy nor sweetest grace be wanting,
From your heart let praises burst:
For today the feast is holden, When the institution olden
Of that supper was rehearsed.

Here the new law's new oblation, By the new king's revelation,
Ends the form of ancient rite:
Now the new the old effaces, Truth away the shadow chases,
Light dispels the gloom of night.

What he did at supper seated, Christ ordained to be repeated,
His memorial ne'er to cease:
And his rule for guidance taking, Bread and wine we hallow,
making Thus our sacrifice of peace.

This the truth each Christian learns, Bread into his flesh he turns,
To his precious blood the wine:
Sight has fail'd, nor thought conceives, But a dauntless faith believes,
Resting on a pow'r divine.

Here beneath these signs are hidden Priceless things to sense forbidden;
Sign, not things are all we see:
Blood is poured and flesh is broken, Yet in either wondrous token
Christ entire we know to be.

Whoso of this food partakes, Does not rend the Lord nor breaks;
Christ is whole to all that taste:
Thousands are, as one, receivers, One, as thousands of believers,
Eats of him who cannot waste.

Bad and good the feast are sharing, Of what divers dooms preparing,
Endless death, or endless life.
Life to these, to those damnation, See how like participation
Is with unlike issues rife.

When the sacrament is broken, Doubt not, but believe 'tis spoken,
That each sever'd outward token doth the very whole contain.
Naught the precious gift divides, Breaking but the sign betides
Jesus still the same abides, still unbroken does remain.

Lo! the angel's food is given To the pilgrim who has striven;
See the children's bread from heaven, which on dogs may not be spent.
Truth the ancient types fulfilling, Isaac bound, a victim willing,
Paschal lamb, its lifeblood spilling, manna to the fathers sent.

Very bread, good shepherd, tend us, Jesu, of your love befriend us,
You refresh us, you defend us, Your eternal goodness send us
In the land of life to see.

You who all things can and know, Who on earth such food bestow,
Grant us with your saints, though lowest,
Where the heav'nly feast you show,
Fellow heirs and guests to be.

Amen. Alleluia.

The Fruits of the Holy Spirit

2011-06-12T08:47:00.003-04:00

Homily Pentecost 2011
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr.
Special thanks to Padre Francisco Fernández-Carvajal

Jesus would speak of the Holy Spirit as a “wind which blows where it wills”. Therefore, the Saint is like a ship with its sails unfurled, attentive to the blowing of the gentle breeze and going where it leads.

When we are docile to these inspirations of the Holy Spirit, we become, to use another analogy from Jesus, that good tree which is known by its fruits. These fruits enrich our lives and are manifestations of the glory of God, as Jesus said at the Last Supper: “By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit.”

These supernatural fruits are countless. St Paul offers us twelve fruits to meditate on, which have become the fruits listed in the Tradition of the Church, the result of the Seven Gifts which the Holy Spirit has infused in our soul through baptism. They are: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, generosity, gentleness, faithfulness, modesty, self-control, chastity.

First is love or charity, the first sign of our union with Christ. This is the most excellent of these fruits, making us feel the loving presence of God, always close, and motivating us to ease the burdens others carry. This is the first sign of the action of the Holy Spirit in us: an active charity towards those around us. St John Chrysostom: “There is no sign or mark which distinguishes the Christian and the lover of Christ greater than the care of our brothers and sisters and zeal for the salvation of souls.”

This first and chief fruit of the Holy Spirit is, as St Thomas says, “followed necessarily by joy, since the lover rejoices in union with his beloved.” Joy is the result of love; therefore a faithful Christian is distinguished by joy, and this joy persists through sorrow and failure. Joy can bring great good to the world, as we sing in our hymns, “Joy to the World” as Christ comes into the world through his people. As one spiritual writer puts it, “To rejoice under trial, to smile in sufferings..., to sing in our heart ever more clearly, the longer and sharper the thorns.., and all this for the sake of love.., this is, together with love, the fruit that the divine Vinedresser wishes to gather from the branches of the mystic Vine. These are fruits which only the Holy Spirit can produce in us.”

Love and joy give us what St. Paul calls, “the peace of God which surpasses all understanding.” St Augustine defines it as tranquility in order. There is a false peace based on disorder, which comes about when we don't want to “rock the boat”, a “let's don't make it worse” attitude, which some see as the only option, but doesn't address the root of a disorder.

Peace, the fruit of the Holy Spirit, is the absence of unrest, where the mind and will are at repose, content in knowing and living the good. It requires a continual battle against our own disordered tendencies so that this peace is transparent to others.

Only in heaven shall we find the fulness of love, joy and peace. But we can experience a foretaste of it now if we are open to the Holy Spirit and faithful. We do enjoy these fruits now, and the taste of them is sweeter than anything this world offers, but it is only a foreshadowing of what awaits us. And this is where the fruit of patience comes in. Patience is serenity without complaint or protest in the face of the physical and moral sufferings which we experience in life.

Many people tell me, “Father, I am too impatient, how can I be more patient?” Well, Charity is full of patience and patience is frequently what supports love. So the simple answer is: love more. When duties are no longer an imposed obligation but a loving desire to work for the good of others, then patience naturally follows.

Related to patience is another fruit called longanimity, which is calmness in the face of suffering and adversity; when we are without complaint or bitterness for as long as God wishes, certaint that he is true to his promises and that the rewards will come sooner or later. No importance the length of the wait, more important is the certainty in the waiting. As St. Paul would say: “in hope, we wait with endurance.” That is patience and longanimity or forebearance.

Many fruits are directly related to love of neighbor. Goodness makes us desire the good of others without distinction, not just for those we love, but also for those who may make life difficult for us. Kindness is that desire in action. If you encounter a person who is irritable and cranky, maybe they are just having a terrible day, and you can make it better for them with a kind smile or word, compassionate and understanding. And if they’re just that way by nature, it has not harmed you to return kindness for crankiness. Desiring the good for others also frees us from jealousy or envy. To allow these fruits to flourish, start with the knowledge that all those you meet are children of God whom He loves and for whom Christ died on the Cross. Generosity naturally follows.

Gentleness is united to goodness, a characteristic of Charity, in that Charity is not irritable or resentful, prone to anger or harmful outbursts. A gentle person does not harbor resentments for perceived offenses or insults from others.

Faithfulness follows gentleness. A faithful person fulfills their duties, large and small, and enjoys the trust of others. A faithful person is dependable. As Sacred Scripture says: “A faithful friend is a sturdy shelter; he who finds one finds a treasure.” A faithful person lives goodness and justice and charity.

The last fruits refer to the virtue of temperance. A modest person behaves serenely and properly in each situation. A modest person appreciates the talents he or she has, but does not magnify or minimize them, recognizing all is a gift from God meant for the service of others. As a fruit of the Holy Spirit, it is manifest in ones speech and dress, and it is attractive because it manifests simplicity and inner order.

Finally, Self-Control and Chastity. These fruits give beauty to the Christian life and helps one to see God present in all things and lift one up from a carnal view of the world. After all, Jesus says, “Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God.” These fruits give us strength in the face of worldly temptations, and God’s grace is always sufficient.

On this Pentecost Sunday we have the great privilege of gathering as the early Church did, with Mary, in prayer, praying for the outpouring of the gifts and fruits of the Holy Spirit in our lives, so that we might enjoy those fruits eternally in Heaven.

The Promise of Heaven

2011-05-21T15:53:00.004-04:00

Homily, 5th Sunday Easter A, 2011

On the Feast of St. Monica, the mother of St. Augustine, the reading for that day is the famous passage from St. Augustine's "Confessions", written in the 5th century, the beautiful passage where he talks about his mother's death. Well, as she was approaching the end of her life, they were having a discussion about heaven, and he says they wondered what it would be like, as he says, to "share the eternal life enjoyed by the saints, which eye has not seen, nor ear heard, which has not even entered into the heart of man." And he goes on, "We desired with all our hearts to drink from the streams of [the Lord's] heavenly fountain, the fountain of life." And his mother said, "Son, as far as I am concerned, nothing in this life now gives me any pleasure. I do not know why I am still here, since I have no further hopes in this world..." And as she is dying, she makes one request of her son, who is a priest and a bishop, "Bury my body wherever you will; let not care of it cause you any concern. One thing only I ask you, that you remember me at the altar of the Lord wherever you may be."

Jesus offers us a great consolation in today's Gospel, “I am indeed going to prepare a place for you, and then I shall come back to take you with me, that where I am you also may be.” The promise of Heaven.

So as I was preparing for today’s homily, I wanted to talk about heaven, and I searched through my favorite saints to see if I could find a moving description of this place the Lord has prepared for us. I went first to one of my favorites, St. Teresa of Avila, the great mystic, and her autobiography. Her writings are full of beautiful imaginative descriptions of heavenly things, so I thought she’d be perfect. But as I opened up the book, one of the chapters immediately came to my attention. In chapter 32, she describes not the place that the Lord had prepared for her in heaven, but the place the devils had prepared for her in hell.

And that kind of threw me for a loop, but then I realized that it might be a good thing for us to think about the reality of hell if we are going to then appreciate the great gift of heaven. St. Teresa describes her experience in hell this way (Life, p.300ff): “I was at prayer one day when suddenly, without knowing how, I found myself plunged straight into hell. I realized that it was the Lord’s will that I should see the place which the devils had prepared for me there and which I had merited for my sins… The entrance resembled a very long, narrow passage, like a furnace, very low, dark and closely confined; the ground seemed to be full of water which looked like filthy, evil-smelling mud, and in it were many wicked-looking reptiles. At the end there was a hollow place scooped out of a wall, like a cupboard, and it was here that I found myself in close confinement. But the sight of all this was pleasant by comparison with what I felt there… I felt a fire within my soul the nature of which I am utterly incapable of describing. My bodily sufferings were so intolerable that, though in my life I have endured the severest sufferings of this kind – the worst it is possible to endure – none of them is of the smallest account by comparison with what I felt then, to say nothing of the knowledge that they would be endless and never-ceasing. And even these are nothing by comparison with the agony of my soul, an oppression, a suffocation and an affliction so deeply felt, and accompanied by such hopeless and distressing misery, that I cannot too forcibly describe it.”

Well, she goes on with her description (as you can see, it’s not a pleasant place), but she ends by saying, “I realize quite clearly that it was a great favor and that it was the Lord’s will that I should see with my own eyes the place from which His mercy had delivered me… I repeat, this vision was one of the most signal favors which the Lord has bestowed on me: it has been of the greatest benefit to me, both in taking from me all fear of the tribulations and disappointments of this life and also in strengthening me to suffer them and to give thanks to the Lord, Who, as I now believe, has delivered me from such terrible and never-ending torments.”

St. Teresa learned from her vision that fear of eternal punishment, fear of God’s justice, fear of the Lord, can be a gift. In his book “Crossing the Threshold of Hope”, the Pope says pretty much the same. He was asked if we should be afraid of the God of Jesus Christ. And he replies simply (p226ff), “The Holy Scriptures contain an insistent exhortation to cultivate the fear of God… which is a gift of the Holy Spirit… as the Psalmist says, ‘The Fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.’ … Christ wants us to have fear of all that is an offense against God…” In other words, it’s not fear of God, but fear of offending God, who is deserving of all our love. The Pope goes on, “It is a constructive, never destructive, fear. It creates people who allow themselves to be led by responsibility, by responsible love.”

And I think that is an important point to realize when we think about heaven and hell. Saint Paul could only describe heaven by saying, (1 Cor. 2:9) “Eye has not seen, ear has not heard, nor has it so much as dawned on man what God has prepared for those who love him.” The key is this: Jesus has gone to prepare that place – for those who love him. How do we show our love for him? He said it himself, (John 14:15) “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” And Saint John would say, (2 John 1:6) “For this is love, that we walk according to his commandments.” If we keep his commandments and have faith in him, then Jesus Christ will be our cornerstone, our strength, our hope. But if we do not, as St. Peter said, He will be “an obstacle and a stumbling stone… [For] those who stumble and fall are dis-believers in God’s word.”

Many people often ask, “why would a good and loving God send people to hell?” But the better question is this, “why would anyone reject a good and loving God?” Because God does not send people to hell, people choose to go there, having rejected God. And we need only look at the daily news...

You know, there is this common myth out there that the God of the Old Testament is a God of Justice, harsh and stern, while the God of the New Testament is a God of Mercy, lenient and compassionate. But what did Jesus say in today’s Gospel? “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father.” There should be no difference between the two if you read the whole of Scripture. Certainly, in the Old Testament, there are some beautiful images of the tender mercy of God, especially in the Psalms. But also, in the New Testament, in the words of Jesus himself, there are some very vivid descriptions of hell and the consequences of not following God’s commandments. (Mt. 13:36-43) Jesus makes it very clear what will happen at the end of time, “The Son of Man will send his angels, and they will collect out of his kingdom all who cause others to sin and all evildoers. They will throw them into the fiery furnace, where there will be wailing and grinding of teeth. Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father.” And that’s just one example among many, in Matthew’s Gospel alone, he uses the description “wailing and grinding of teeth” to describe hell at least six times. [As Frederick Marks said] “Anyone who reads five minutes of Scripture can see that our Lord was both loving and stern, rich in understanding yet at the same time demanding” – he had a clear understanding of the reality of heaven and hell.

Well, my search through Saint Teresa was not fruitless, for later in her book, I did indeed find a description, such as it is, of heaven. She says, (p361ff) “One night, [while in prayer], I thought I was being carried up to heaven… What I saw [there] was so great that the smallest part of it was sufficient to leave my soul amazed… I wish I could give a description of the smallest part of what I learned … but I find it impossible; for, while the light we see here and the light there are both light, there is no comparison between the two, and the brightness of the sun seems quite dull if compared with [that of heaven]… When the Lord had shown me [these] wonderful things… He said to me, ‘See, daughter, what those who are against Me lose: do not fail to tell them of it.’” She goes on to describe how these visions effected her, “[it taught me] where our true home is and [showed me] that on earth we are but pilgrims; it is a great thing to see what is awaiting us there and to know where we are going to live.”

And I think that’s part of the problem in today’s culture: few people, especially our young people, live with the hope of heaven in their lives. Many people live as if this is all there is, and so work for treasures on earth, while neglecting to store up treasure in their true home, heaven.

I believe it is a good thing that there are few descriptions of what heaven is like. Perhaps it is best that heaven remain a mystery, something beyond our greatest hopes and desires. Then, the words of Jesus ought to be enough, “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Have faith in God and faith in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places; otherwise, how could I have told you that I was going to prepare a place for you. I am indeed going to prepare a place for you, and then I shall come back to take you with me, that where I am you also may be.”

Saint Teresa knew the truth of those words well. When she was dying, her last words were these, “Oh my Lord and my spouse, the hour that I have so desired has come. It is time for us to meet face to face.”

The Good Shepherd

2011-05-14T16:08:00.000-04:00

Homily 4th Sunday of Easter A
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr.

Jesus used the image of himself as the good shepherd, for the image that he used in today’s Gospel would have been intimately familiar to the Jewish people. Perhaps not so much to us today, but the meaning is still very powerful.

The life of a shepherd was very hard. He was never off duty, for the sheep were never left to graze on their own. The desert climate was brutally hot during the day and very cold at night. There was little grass, so the sheep tended to wander and had to be constantly watched. There were no fences or protection from ravines and cliffs. The shepherd also had to guard the flock against wild animals, especially against wolves, and there were always thieves and robbers ready to steal the sheep. As he led the sheep from pasture to pasture, he would go first, searching for any dangers and leading them down the right path. “He walks in front of them and the sheep follow him.” The shepherd, whose image was used throughout scripture, was a model of constant vigilance, fearless courage, and patient self-sacrifice.

When Jesus referred to himself as the “gate”, he as referring to a common practice of shepherds at the time. “I am the gate. Whoever enters through me will be safe.” On some evenings, he would gather them into an enclosure with just one exit and he would lay down across the entrance. If the sheep tried to get out, they would literally have to walk over the shepherd sleeping at the entrance as the gate; the same for the wolf that tried to get in. He literally “laid down his life for his sheep.” But perhaps the most beautiful thing about shepherds was that they literally knew each of their sheep by name. “The sheep hear his voice as he calls his own by name.” Usually, he would give them a descriptive name, like “brown-leg” or “black-ear.” But each sheep was unique to him and would come when he called its unique name, so much so that if two shepherds, each with a hundred or more sheep, met in a field and their flock mingled, they could separate them again simply by calling out his unique call.

The Jews had a lovely legend to explain why God chose Moses to be the leader of his people. When Moses was feeding the sheep of his father-in-law in the wilderness, a young kid ran away. Moses followed it until it reached a ravine, where it found a well to drink from. When Moses got up to it he said, “I did not know you ran away because you were thirsty. Now you must be weary.” He took the kid on his shoulders and carried it back. Then God said, “Because you have shown pity in leading back one of a flock belonging to a man, you shall lead my flock Israel.” (Barclay on John 10.)

So, when Jesus used the example of the shepherd to refer to himself, the Jewish people knew immediately what that meant: that he was someone who knew each of them by name, cared for them intimately, guided them on the right path, and was willing to lay down his life for them.

That is why we need good shepherds today. Too often today, children are left to “graze on their own,” to find their own way in the midst of a hostile culture. They are given little guidance or advice about which pastures to graze in, nor are the protected much from the “thieves and marauders” who come only to “steal and slaughter and destroy.” Because they have not been nurtured from their youth with a gentle shepherd’s guidance, they follow whatever voice happens to speak the loudest or tells them what they want to hear.

Samuel Taylor Coleridge has an interesting anecdote which may illustrate this. He told this story: “I showed a friend my garden and told him it was my botanical garden. ‘How so?’ said he, ‘it is covered with weeds.’ - ‘Oh,’ I replied, ‘that is only because it has not yet come to its age of discretion and choice. The weeds, you see, have taken liberty to grow, and I thought it unfair of me to prejudice the soil towards roses and strawberries.’” So, the nurturing, guiding, shepherding hand of a parent is necessary for the proper moral formation of our children.

But for parents to be effective shepherds of their children, they must have a shepherd themselves. And that shepherd is our Lord, Jesus Christ, who knows each of us by name, cares for us intimately, guides us on the right path, and laid down his life for us. He says, “I came that they might have life and have it to the full.” Following our Lord means that we will experience the fullness of life, as God intended it, and if we follow he, allow him to be our shepherd, then we will be a good shepherds to our children, who in turn will have life and have it to the full.

Christ My Hope is Arisen

2011-04-23T19:27:00.004-04:00

Homily, Easter Sunday 2011
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr.

The sequence we read today asks Mary Magdalene, “Tell us, oh Mary, what did you see on the way?” And she responds, “I saw the tomb of the now living Christ. I saw the glory of Christ now risen. I saw angels who gave witness; the cloths too which once had covered head and limbs. Christ my hope has risen. He will go before his own to Galilee.”

But I ask myself, what was Mary thinking as she went to the tomb that morning? Did she recall the stories his mother Mary would tell her? Was she thinking about the holy child wrapped in swaddling clothes laying in a manger; now wrapped in a burial cloth and laid in a tomb? Was she thinking about the men who came from the East with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh; and now myrrh was being used to anoint his body, the body she had once anointed with her tears? Was she thinking about the angels who proclaimed his birth and now wonder why Pilate had sent guards to watch him in death?

Why did Mary go to the tomb early that morning? As the sun rose on yet another day, the light of her life was lying in a tomb. He freed her from slavery to sin and then paid the price for those sins. He gave her new life in the spirit, and then she watched him die on Calvary. Though her sins were like scarlet, he had washed her clean and made her whiter than snow, and then she watched him hang on the cross, where blood would flow from his sacred wounds and where they would take him down to bury him behind a white stone rolled in front of a tomb.

Why did Mary follow him to the tomb? He told her he was the Way, but did she know the path would lead her here? He told his disciples to pick up their crosses and follow him, but did she know the way would be so hard? Did she know that the Way would not end here, that his suffering had meaning, that death was only a passage, that he could always bring good even out of the greatest evils? Did she remember what he said, "My yoke is easy, my burden light"?

What did Mary think when she saw that the stone had been rolled away? Was it hope or panic? Hope that he may be risen or panic that she would no longer see his body? She ran to Peter and John and said, "The Lord has been taken from the tomb! We don't know where they have put him!" Where is her faith? Did she doubt? She knew him to be a man of truth. She knew that he was always did what he said. Had she so soon forgotten what he said? "The Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again." Did she doubt him now?

Mary came to see. The stone had been rolled away by an angel, not by men - the guards were sleeping and the tomb lay open. And the tomb is empty, not because they have taken him but because Christ her hope is risen! The angel rolled away the stone, not to let him out but to let her in so that she could see the burial cloth wrapped neatly and placed in a place by itself, as if the one wearing it had removed it. Oh Mary, she has eyes but cannot see, ears but cannot hear.

Why did Mary weep? She knew that tears had always moved our Lord to pity - he would raise the dead because of tears, he would cure the sick because of tears, he would console and offer hope because of tears - and perhaps because of her tears he appeared to Mary first. "Woman, why are you weeping?" he would ask, "Whom do you seek?" And still she did not recognize him, still she failed to see that the one she sought was standing there in front of her - he was risen as he promised. He said that he was the good shepherd who called his sheep by name - indeed he knows each of us by name - and it was not until he called her by name that she would recognize him, "Mary."

What did Mary think when she heard him call her name? How did she feel when she saw the Risen One? She shouted out Teacher! and then clung to him - (we probably would have done the same). After the darkness of the night, here was her light. After the pain of separation, here he was - united with her again. After the great loss of Calvary, now the great victory. Tears of sorrow now turn to tears of joy. No wonder she clung to him. Faith has replaced doubt. Hope has replaced despair. Love has replaced loss. As St. Paul would say later, "the corruptible clothes itself with incorruptibility... that which is mortal clothes itself with immortality... Death is swallowed up in victory... Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?"

Oh Mary, Christ our hope is Risen! The Prince of Life, who died, reigns immortal! Through him, we have been shown the Way, with him we now know the Truth, and in him we have been given a share in the very life of God.

Nineteen centuries following the witness of Mary Magdalene at the tomb, in Soviet Russia, shortly after the Communist revolution, the first thing the new communists tried to do was rid the people of religion. Atheism, after all, was the bedrock of their political system. In one particular village, a state official was appointed to this task, and he assembled the townspeople in the local meeting hall, where for a couple of hours he harangued them, denouncing Christianity and trying in particular to the debunk of the resurrection of Jesus. After a while, he felt confident with the job he had done, and the people seemed pretty subdued and submissive, so he generously offered the platform to anyone who might wish to refute him. A young Orthodox priest came forward. The official looked at the priest in disdain, and said, "I'll give you two minutes." The young priest responded, "I don't think I will need that long," . He approached the podium; suddenly he threw his hands into the air and bellowed at the top of his lungs, "Christ is risen!" And the whole crowd thundered back as one, "Christ is risen indeed! Christ is risen indeed!" The state official left as the cheer continued, all of his mere words failed miserably in the face of a people who knew Jesus Christ through faith - a people who placed their hope in his resurrection - a people who loved him with their whole hearts, mind and soul.

Now today, we gather as a community to celebrate the Resurrection of the Lord in word and sacrament. We need to ask ourselves these questions, that were first answered by Mary Magdalene and the disciples of Christ, and reaffirmed through twenty centuries of faithful Christian people: Is Jesus Christ the Way in your life, and would you follow him to the tomb? Is Jesus Christ the Truth in your life, and will you trust him and follow his commandments? Is Jesus Christ the Life in your life, and do you turn to him for sustenance in his Word and Sacraments while waiting in hope for our own resurrection on the last day?

Mary Magdalene saw the glory of Christ now risen, and we have the opportunity to see that as well, if only we had eyes to see and ears to hear, so let us now proclaim with her and the angels and with all the saints who have gone before us: "Christ our hope is risen! Christ is Risen indeed!"

The Eyes of Jesus

2011-03-26T09:35:00.003-04:00

Homily Third Sunday of Lent A
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr.

I once visited a man in the hospital who asked me, “Father, have you ever looked Jesus in the eyes?” Years ago, when he was teaching Sunday school, he saw a young girl with a handicap at church who apparently lived at a local nursing home. Well, after church, she was leaving with a man from the nursing home and since she seemed to be about the age of the kids he was teaching, he asked the man if she could stay for his class, and he happily agreed. So, the young girl had a delightful hour with her peers and was spared having to go back to the nursing home. Well, as he was helping her leave the church by literally carrying her to the car, she looked at him straight in the eyes and said, “Thank you.” But he didn’t see her eyes, he said he saw the most magnificent beautiful eyes you have ever seen, the eyes of Jesus. And he knew it was Jesus speaking to him through that young girl. It was as if the whole world stopped, and it was simply he and Jesus alone, and he went away from that experience forever changed.

In today’s Gospel, we see something similar happen. The Samaritan woman at the well has a personal encounter with Christ, just two of them, for the disciples were away, and it changes her life. So we can imagine what it was like for her as Jesus looked into her eyes. He does several things for her.

He looks her in the eyes and invites her to come to him and serve him. He invites her with a simple request, “Give me a drink.” He invites her to show a simple act of charity to a man wearied with his journey, to think not of herself, but to first give of herself.

He looks her in the eyes and challenges her with the truth about herself. “Go, call your husband, and come here.” He knew that she had had five husbands and was currently living with a man who was not her husband, yet he did not condemn her. Instead he gave her the opportunity to look at herself and admit the truth. She was a sinner, and acknowledging that is the first step to conversion.

He looks her in the eyes and teaches her how to truly worship God. Through the life-giving waters of baptism, we are made sons and daughters of the Father in heaven; by the Holy Spirit poured out into our hearts, we can worship him in spirit and in truth; and through the Church Jesus founded, we can worship together in all parts of the world.

He looks her in the eyes and reveals himself as the Messiah, “I who speak to you am he.” “I am the one who can save you.” He was the one who was coming to show us all things, the one who was coming to save us from our sins. She discovered that he was the Christ, the Savior of the world, who had come to seek out those who were lost, and who had come to seek even here, an outcast among outcasts. No one escapes his notice, for all of his children are precious in his eyes.

For the woman at the well, she was transformed from that moment on. She goes out to share the great joy she has discovered. She went into the city to tell her people who she had met, “Come and see a man who told me all that I ever did. Can this be the Christ?” She shares her newfound faith and invites others to experience it as well.

So, when Jesus looks us in the eyes, how can we do anything but respond?

He invites us to serve him in so many ways. He invites us to stop looking at ourselves and our own needs and turn to others to give and to serve.

He invites us to acknowledge the truth about ourselves. Acknowledge that we are sinners, in need of mercy, in need of guidance on the right path, and in need of a Savior. We do this especially through an examination of conscience followed by a good confession, which all Catholics should take advantage of, especially during Lent.

He invites us to true worship. in spirit and in truth, especially at the Mass and through our daily prayers and devotions. We also worship by seeking out and acting on the Lord’s will in our lives, by following the teaching of the Church, and by seeing Christ in others, even those who may be outcasts. Worship is like coming to the well for a drink, but if we fail to drink of that water, to nourish ourselves with worship daily, then we will be like a tree planted in the desert, parched and dry, scorched by the sun, withering away and dying. But when we drink of the water that Jesus gives, we will need never fear thirst.

He invites us to turn to him to save us and transform us. Most importantly, we need to get to know him as Messiah, Lord, and Savior. For an encounter with Jesus is an encounter with a real person – like the woman at the well, who discovered her Lord and Savior sitting beside a well one day. He is the source of our life, the living water that will lead us to eternal life. And once we know that, we need to make him known to those around us, for he is not only our Savior, but indeed the Savior of the whole world.

A priest friend of mine tells a story that I like: A fellow dies and goes to heaven, and there he meets our Lord who says “Welcome, my son, would you like to see the place I have prepared for you?” And so he shows him around and they see all the wonders of heaven – like Scripture says, the streets paved with gold, and so on. After a while, the fellow gets kind of curious because he sees no other people and he says, “Lord, where are all the other people. I see just you and I.” And our Lord looks him in the eyes and says, “My son, it was the same way on earth – just you and I.” The moral being that in with every person you meet, you have the opportunity to look Jesus in the eyes, to serve him, and to love him. And if we can do that now, then we will have begun our life in heaven.

Come down, Peter!

2011-03-19T08:33:00.003-04:00

Homily, 2nd Sunday of Lent Cycle A
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr.

At the end of his book, “The Problem of Pain”, C.S. Lewis talks about heaven. He says, “We are very shy nowadays of even mentioning heaven. We are afraid of the jeer about ‘pie in the sky,’ and of being told that we are trying to ‘escape’ from the duty of making a happy world here and now into dreams of a happy world elsewhere. But either there is ‘pie in the sky’ or there is not. If there is not, then Christianity is false, for this doctrine is woven into its whole fabric. If there is, then this truth, like any other, must be faced. Again, we are afraid that heaven is a bribe, and that if we make it our goal we shall no longer be disinterested. It is not so. Heaven offers nothing that a mercenary soul can desire. It is safe to tell the pure in heart that they shall see God, for only the pure in heart want to. There are rewards that do not sully motives. [A man’s love for a woman is not mercenary because he wants to marry her, nor his love of poetry mercenary because he wants to read it, nor his love of exercise less disinterested because he wants to run and leap and walk.] Love, by definition, seeks to enjoy its object.”

On the mountain that day, our Lord gave his apostles a glimpse of heaven, a foretaste of the glory to come. He was transfigured before their eyes, and Peter, James and John were able to glimpse his divinity and hear it confirmed by the Father, “This is my beloved Son on whom my favor rests.”

No wonder Peter wanted to stay! A week earlier, he had made his famous confession, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” And now the voice of the Father in heaven had confirmed that truth. (CCC 555) And before Peter’s eyes was the goal we all seek, the object that the love planted in our hearts seeks to enjoy. And that goal was Jesus Christ in all his glory, and just as Peter desired to stay and rest with him on the mountain that day, we desire to be united with him in heaven for all eternity.

Now what will heaven be like? The catechism describes heaven as “the ultimate end and fulfillment of the deepest human longings, the state of supreme, definitive happiness.” It is “perfect life with the Most Holy Trinity - a communion of life and love with the Trinity, with the Virgin Mary, the angels and all the blessed.” (CCC 1024) To be in heaven is “to be with Christ”, to live in Christ, and to find your own true identity in him. (CCC 1025) St. Thomas says something interesting about heaven. In heaven, he says, “the blessed will be given more than they ever wanted or hoped for.” (Catechesis on the Creed - ST) Even if we see our human desires as vast and great, in fact, they are not great enough, and indeed they are nothing when compared to the infinite God. Like St. Paul said, “eye has not seen, and ear has not heard, and it has not even entered the human heart, what God has prepared for those who love him”.

No wonder Peter wanted to stay! He knew his goal, he saw a glimpse of it, and he wanted to enjoy it right then and there. But he still did not know what it would take to reach that goal. For on that day “Jesus was transfigured before their eyes. His face became as dazzling as the sun, his clothes as radiant as light.” But just a few weeks later, that same face would be streaked with blood, for his sacred head would be pierced with a crown of thorns. Those same clothes would be stripped from him and soldiers would cast lots to steal them as they drove nails into his hands and feet to hang him on the Cross.

There is one path to glory, one path to heaven, and that is through the Cross of Calvary. Jesus freely chose that Cross, which means that none of us can avoid that, as St. Paul would tell Timothy, “Bear your share of the hardship which the Gospel entails.” Tradition holds that Jesus revealed himself on that day to give his apostles courage for the coming trial, and indeed Peter would remember it his whole life. But Peter still had to learn the meaning of the Cross.

St. Augustine would write about the Transfiguration and tell Peter, “Come down, Peter: you desired to rest on the mountain; come down, preach the word, be persistent in season, out of season, reprove, rebuke, exhort with all longsuffering and teaching. (2 Tim 4:2) ... The glory [you see] has been reserved for you, Peter, but for after death. For now, Jesus says to you, ‘Go down to toil on earth; to serve on earth, to be scorned and crucified on earth. [I am the] Life who goes down to be killed; [I am the] Bread who goes down to suffer hunger; [I am] the Way goes down to be exhausted on his journey; [I am the] Fountain who goes down to suffer thirst; and you refuse to suffer? Seek not your own. Have charity, preach the truth; then you shall come to eternity, where you will find your rest.’” (NPNF1, v6, p348 - CCC 556)

Some may say, like C.S. Lewis pointed out, that our hope for heaven is a mere “pie in the sky” dream, or a “cleverly concocted myth.” But that is not the case. Heaven is a reality, proven by the testimony of eyewitnesses, which is altogether reliable, and proven by Jesus’ resurrection, which is altogether irrefutable. And our striving towards heaven calls us not to complacency, but action; not to an escape, but to an embrace of the trials of this life; not to indifference to the problems of the world, but to a duty to make the world a better place.

Pope Paul VI would say this, “Haven’t we frequently felt the temptation to let Christianity be comfortable, devoid of sacrifice, of having to conform to the easy-going and worldly ways of others? But that is not how Our Lord meant it to be. Christian life cannot dispense with the Cross since it has no meaning without the hard, pressing weight of duty. If we were to attempt to remove the cross from our lives, we would be creating illusions for ourselves and weakening the Faith, since we would have transformed Sacred Tradition into a soft and complacent style of life.” (iCwG, v7, p72)

St. John Vianney, the patron saint of parish priests, understood this well and would say, “Oh my God, I prefer to die loving you than to live a single instant without loving you... I love you my divine Savior, because you were crucified for us... because you have me crucified for you.”

The prophet Isaiah said, “Though your sins be as scarlet, I will make them white as snow.” And on the Mount of the Transfiguration, we saw what that meant. For Jesus was seen there, dazzling like the sun, radiant as light - white as snow. And if we are to join him one day in glory, then we must join him on the Cross. For it is only there that our sins are forgiven, only there that we will pass onto glory, only there that we will possess the object of all our love, Jesus Christ, the Son of God.

Termites

2011-03-13T08:13:00.001-04:00

Homily, 1st Sunday of Lent Cycle A
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr.

Back in 1991, I was living at home for a few months before I entered the seminary. And I remember very vividly Good Friday of that year. I was at St. Jude’s participating in their beautiful Adoration of the Cross service. And during those three hours, from noon till 3pm, a violent thunder storm swept through town. As you can imagine, it added a little extra dramatic atmosphere to the service. Well, the storm ended, and when I got home, something was missing. Outside our second story kitchen window, we could see a big beautiful oak tree. It was special to us because a raccoon had made his nest there, right in view of the window, and he used to sit there and watch us eat our dinner and we’d watch him eat his dinner, and we grew fond of him over the years. Well, when I got home after the storm that day, the tree was gone - looking out the window, I just saw empty sky, no tree. So I went outside, went around the house, and sure enough, the tree had been blown over by the wind and slid down a hill into the pond. And when I looked at the base, I found out why: termites. The inside of the tree was completely rotted out and eaten up by these termites, and we were lucky the tree didn’t fall on the kitchen. Here this big, healthy looking, strong tree was rotting away on the inside all those years, being eaten by seemingly insignificant little bugs, so much so that when the winds blew and the storms came, the tree couldn’t stand.

Well, as I sat out on the back porch looking at the fallen tree, I couldn’t help but reflect on what this meant spiritually. How appropriate that this happened on Good Friday, during Lent, because Lent is a time that we, as Christians, need to be aware of the termites that eat us up on the inside, those little everyday temptations and sins that we don’t think too much about, but that if we don’t take care of, may cause us to fall when the winds blow and the storms come.

In today’s Gospel, the Spirit leads Jesus into the desert, where he was tempted by the devil. The devil showed him all the kingdoms of the world and said to him, “All these I will bestow on you if you prostrate yourself in homage before me.”

Well, commenting on this passage, Ronald Knox said, “the devil is not going to offer you and me all the kingdoms of the world. He knows his market, and he offers, like a good salesman, just as much as he thinks his customer will take. [He thinks that most of us could be had for much less than the whole world. And he doesn’t] propose his conditions to us so openly; his offer comes to us wrapped up in all sorts of plausible shapes.” In other words, the devil will tempt us with whatever it takes us to fall, but unfortunately, for most of us, that’s not very much. And we make it even easier for him by not avoiding the small temptations of everyday life, by letting the termites slowly eat away at us.

St. Francis de Sales, in his book, “Introduction to the Devout Life”, talks about resisting these small temptations. He says, “It is easy enough to avoid murder, but how difficult it is to avoid anger over little things. It is easy enough to avoid adultery, but how difficult it is to guard our glances, to refrain from lustful thoughts, or to avoid flirting. It is easy enough to avoid stealing our neighbor’s belongings, but how difficult it is to not desire them. It is easy enough not to lie in front of a judge, but how difficult it is not to lie in our idle conversations behind our neighbor’s back.” (IV.8, p.287-8) These are the types of temptations that lead to small sins that slowly eat away at us, so that when the larger storms of temptation come, we fall quickly because we have no strength or resistance built up.

Well, where do these temptations come from? In the Our Father, we pray, “lead us not into temptation”, and we’ve all heard the expression, that “God never allows us to be tempted beyond our strength.” From these common expressions, you might come to believe that God is the one doing the tempting, as if he were an adversary.

But God is not the one who tempts us to sin. Perhaps we say “lead us not into temptation” in reference to today’s Gospel where Jesus was “led into the desert” where it was the devil who tempted him. But St. James would say, “No one experiencing temptation should say, "I am being tempted by God"; for God is not subject to temptation to evil, and he himself tempts no one.” God doesn’t cause but permits temptation so that we might grow in virtue, and he provides us with the strength to overcome it. As St. Augustine commented (OOR 1st Lent), “We progress by means of trial. No one knows himself except through trial.”

The real sources of temptation are found in the traditional threefold formulation: the world, the flesh, and the devil. The world tempts us with passing pleasures that do not last or completely satisfy, the flesh tempts us with disordered passions, and the devil tempts us with pride and a belief in our own self-sufficiency.

And while all those things are true, we have to be careful about looking at it in this way. If we see the world, the flesh, and the devil as the source of sin, we are looking outside of the true source of sin, which is in the misuse of our free will. We saw this in the story of Adam and Eve, who were given freedom to choose among the many goods God had placed in the Garden of Eden, but instead chose that which was forbidden. We are indeed influenced by all these external factors, but it is our own free will that consents to the sin. St. James (1:15) said, “each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire conceives and brings forth sin, and when sin reaches maturity it gives birth to death.”

No matter the source of the temptation, the true responsibility lies within, with our own choices. While the devil will only tempt us with the bare minimum he needs to seduce us, God, on the other hand, will provide whatever grace we need to over come sin, as the Lord said to St. Paul (1 Cor. 12:9), “My Grace is sufficient for you.” When we see sin in the world today, many people like to dismiss it by saying, “oh, he’s only human.” When I hear that, I think, how sad, because being a wounded sinner subject to fall is not what being fully human means. Whereas to be truly human means to live in God’s friendship and obey his commandments. The prevalence of sin in the world today attests not only to our human weakness, but most especially to the allure of sin, and to our lack of reliance on God’s grace.

If we do rely on God’s help by turning to the means he provides, namely Confession, which cleanses and renews us, and the Eucharist, which gives us strength for our daily journey, then we can overcome the little temptations that we are constantly fighting, those termites which gnaw at us continually.

I like to look at it this way, when faced with a temptation, don’t use the world or the devil as an excuse, something which is outside of yourself, beyond your control. Don’t even let your own “human weakness” be an excuse. Don’t attribute it to anyone but yourself. Look to your own freedom, turn from your sins, and ask God to help you. Have mercy on yourself when you fall, but never give up the fight and always look to God with trust and confidence for strength. That way, when you do overcome sin, you will grow in virtue, never giving the devil his due or taking credit for yourself, instead giving all the glory to God. And St. Augustine gave some simple advice on how to do this: “If like Christ we have been tempted, in him we overcome the devil. Do you think only of Christ’s temptations and fail to see his victory? See yourself as tempted in him, and see yourself as victorious in him.”

Remember what St. Paul said, (1 Cor. 10:12-13) “Whoever thinks he is standing secure should take care not to fall. No trial has come to you but what is human. God is faithful and will not let you be tried beyond your strength; but with the trial he will also provide a way out, so that you may be able to bear it.”

Dust to Dust

2011-03-09T12:34:00.001-05:00

Homily - Ash Wednesday
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr.

“Remember man that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

Those are the words spoken when you receive your ashes today, and that is the reason we are here as we begin the season of Lent. That ashes remind us of one simple fact: without God, we are nothing. No matter what we do in this life – seeking fame, happiness, wealth, power, or long life – no matter what we do, in the end, we will return to dust. As Jesus once said, (Matthew 16:26), “ What profit would there be for one to gain the whole world and forfeit his life?”

But worse yet, not only are we nothing without God, we have offended Him by our sins. As King David prayed in the Psalm, “For I acknowledge my offense, and my sin is before me always: ‘Against you only have I sinned, and done what is evil in your sight.’”

Well, is there any hope? Yes, there is, in Jesus Christ, as St. Paul said, “For our sakes God made him who did not know sin to be sin, so that in him we might become the very holiness of God.” And because of this great gift, our salvation offered to us through Jesus’ offering himself on the Cross, St. Paul implores us, “Be reconciled to God! We beg you not to receive the grace of God in vain.” Don’t look at the Cross and let its significance pass you by, don’t let this season of Lent pass without reconciling yourself to God, without turning from your sins and allowing the Lord to create you anew.

The Lord says through the prophet Joel: “Return to me with your whole heart, with fasting, and weeping, and mourning; rend your hearts, not your garments, and return to the Lord, your God. For gracious and merciful is he, slow to anger, rich in kindness, and relenting in punishment.”

Repentance begins within, rending our hearts not our garments. And that’s what Jesus teaches in the Sermon on the Mount, when he taught about the three traditional forms of penance: almsgiving, prayer, and fasting. We give alms, not for any worldly gain or tax write-off, or to receive the praise of men for how generous we are; we give alms for the sake of the Father in Heaven who sees in secret and will repay us. We pray not so that others may see our piety or how close we are to the Lord, but because we are children of a loving Father, who knows everything we need and wants to hear our prayers. We fast and wear ashes during Lent, not so that others may see it, but so that we will acknowledge to the Lord that all that is good comes from him and that we may mortify our desires for things of this world and set our sights on heaven alone.

As Lent begins, pray Psalm 51, and pray it often: “Have mercy on me, O God, in your goodness, in the greatness of your compassion wipe out my offense. Thoroughly wash me from my guilt and of my sin cleanse me.” “A clean heart create for me, O God, and a steadfast spirit renew within me.”

If we turn to the Lord in this way, he will answer our prayer, have mercy on us, cleanse us from our sins, and create us anew. For without him, we are nothing, but as Jesus says, With God, all things are possible.

Choose All

2011-02-19T15:27:00.004-05:00

Homily, 7th Sunday Ordinary Time A
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr.

One of my favorite stories is from St. Therese of Lisieux from her book, “The Story of a Soul”. She tells a story about her older sister, Leonie, who decided one day that she was too big to play with dolls anymore. So, feeling generous, she decided to let her little sisters, Celine and Therese, choose among her dolls and doll-making things. Placing them all in a basket, she said to them, “Here my little sisters, choose; I’m giving you all this.” Celine stretched out her hand and took a little ball of wool which pleased her. And then St. Therese writes, “After a moments reflection, I stretched out my hand saying: ‘I choose all!’” And she took the basket without further ceremony. Apparently, all present thought her action was kind of cute, and Celine didn’t complain.

But then she writes further, “This little incident of my childhood is a summary of my whole life; later on 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!’”

In today’s Gospel, Jesus says, “be perfected as your heavenly Father is perfect.” Well, I know that if any of us did an honest examination of conscience, we would find that to be a pretty tall order. Perfection, holiness and sainthood seem to be reserved for only a select few, a heroic few, like St. Therese.

Well, the catechism, based on the entire tradition of the Church, says this, CCC 2013: “All Christians in any state or walk of life are called to the fullness of Christian life and to the perfection of charity. All are called to holiness: Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect.”

And this goes back to the time of Moses, for the Lord said to him, “Be holy, for I, the Lord, your God, am holy.” You know, our faith teaches us that we are created in God’s image and likeness. Well, I think one way to understand that is to look at it this way: we are created in God’s image, meaning that we have the ability and capacity to love and reach perfection and holiness, but because we are fallen through sin, we spend our whole lives trying to be more and more like God, his likeness, to actually be holy and perfect and love completely.

And that’s why all of us need to advance. The catechism says again, CCC 2014: “Spiritual progress tends towards ever more intimate union with Christ.” Each day, we try to advance on the path of perfection and holiness, so that we will be more like God. And we don’t do this alone, for God himself helps us, as St. Paul says, “Are you not aware that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwells within you?” If we are attentive to the prompting of the Holy Spirit in our lives, through prayer, through the sacraments, through our interaction with others, then he will lead us on the path to holiness.

The catechism says again, CCC 2015: “The way of perfection passes by way of the Cross. There is no holiness without renunciation and spiritual battle. Spiritual progress entails the [ascetics] and mortification that gradually lead to living in the peace and joy of the Beatitudes.”

And this is the road map that Jesus lays out for us in today’s Gospel. If we are to advance on the path to perfection, he gives us many examples to follow and attitudes to have. Jesus says we must offer no resistance to injury. In the Jesus’ time, to be struck on the right cheek was a grave insult. It meant that someone struck you with the back of their hand in contempt. But Jesus says, “turn and offer him the other”, meaning that we should not respond to insults by seeking revenge or “an eye for an eye”. Jesus says that “if anyone wants to go to law over your shirt, hand him your coat as well.” Don’t be attached to the things of this world. Again, “Should anyone press you into service for one mile, go with him two miles.” We are not to do the bare minimum, be it in the practice of our faith, or in the practice of charity towards others, as if we can squeak into heaven with a minimum of effort. We are to “give to the man who begs from us” and “not turn our back on the borrower.” We are to give of ourselves entirely, and root out any selfishness, and to do this, sacrifice is required.

If we can follow this map laid out by Jesus, then we will advance on the way of perfection and holiness, with his help. But there is another way, a shortcut almost, and that was St. Therese’s secret. She called it her “little way” of perfection.

When Jesus was asked what the greatest commandment was, he said, “(Matthew 22:37-39), You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment. The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Jesus said today, “If you love those who love you, what merit is there in that? Do not tax collectors do as much? And if you greet your brothers only, what is so praiseworthy about that? Do not pagans do as much?” You see, that’s what St. Therese understood: Our love of neighbor and our advance on the way of perfection and holiness will only be as effective as our love of God. And so her “little way” consisted in only this: total trust and absolute surrender to God, with all of her heart, soul, mind and strength. And it was because of this great love for God as a Father, that she was able to suffer much, to seek out always the most perfect thing to do, and to forget herself completely.

It was in this way that she was able to “choose all” and reach sanctity. And if we are attentive to the words spoken to Moses, “Be holy, for I, the Lord, your God, am holy” and follow the command of Jesus himself, “be perfected as your heavenly Father is perfect”, then we too will “choose all”, follow her little way and grow more and more into God’s likeness. For as St. Paul said, “all things are yours; and you are Christ’s and Christ is God’s”, and one day we will be united with him for all eternity, where we shall see him face to face and sing his praises with all the Saints in glory.

Don't Even Think About It!

2011-02-12T19:06:00.002-05:00

Homily, 6th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., pastor, St. Joseph's

It's difficult to talk to my sister on the phone. She has her hands full. As I've told you, she has ten kids, and as we talk, it seems we get interrupted every 30 seconds or so, as she would have to say something to her kids. Often, the conversation pauses and I hear her say to one of her kids, "don't do that." Then a few moments later, it's "don't do that!" Then, it seems to reach an apex when she says, "don’t even think about it!” Well, that's usually the last thing I hear before she has to go. I have great respect for the responsibilities and hard work of mothers.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus says, “Do not think that I have come to abolish the law and the prophets. I have come, not to abolish them, but to fulfill them.” And then he begins to teach on the law in this great Sermon on the Mount, which has been called the “greatest sermon ever preached.” And what Jesus is preaching about in this Sermon are the Ten Commandments.

Well, you know, the Ten Commandments are really very simple to understand. The first three deal with our relationship with God - “you shall have no other Gods before me”, “you shall not take the name of the Lord in vain”, and “keep holy the Lord’s day.” The fourth commandment deals with our relationships in the family, “honor you father and mother.” The last six deal with our relationships with our neighbor, and they are divided up into two categories: those that say, “Don’t do it”, and those that say, “Don’t even think about doing it.”

That’s what Jesus does when he teaches on the Ten Commandments in the Sermon on the Mount: he takes each commandment and says, “You have heard the commandment, don’t do it; what I say to you is, don’t even think about doing it.”

First, he takes the fifth commandment, “You shall not kill”, and fulfills it with the eighth, “You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.” Don’t do it, don’t even think about doing it. Certainly the greatest harm we can do to our neighbors is to kill them, but we can also harm our neighbors by holding them in contempt, lying about them, damaging their reputation, harming their good name, getting angry with them or using abusive language.

There is a lot of death in this culture, so much so that Pope John Paul called it the “culture of death”: murder, abortion, euthanasia, crime and drug use, terrorism, war, genocide. All of these things are happening every day around us, but all of these things arise from within, from anger, from lack of forgiveness, from selfishness, from falsehoods. If we listened to Jesus’ admonition, “Go first to be reconciled with your brother”, if we changed our hearts first, then perhaps we would impact this culture of death around us and make it a culture of life.

Next Jesus goes onto the sixth commandment, “You shall not commit adultery”, and he fulfills it with the ninth, “You shall not covet your neighbor’s wife.” Don’t do it, don’t even think about doing it. And Jesus is pretty clear about this one, something which I believe is often forgotten in our modern culture, “anyone who looks lustfully at a woman has already committed adultery with her in his thoughts.” I hear too often things like, “Oh, it’s OK to look, just don’t touch”, “What’s wrong with a little fantasy?”
Well Jesus gives some interesting advice, “If your right eye is your trouble, gouge it out and throw it away! If your right hand is your trouble, cut it off and throw it away!” We live in a culture saturated with lust, and even worse, it is all aimed at young people, especially our teens. Watching television nowadays is an occasion of sin, and parents are responsible for what their children watch. If the television causes you, or your children, to sin, then cut it off and throw it away. Modesty and virginity and chastity and purity are not four-letter words, but instead they flow from the teachings of Jesus himself, and he should be the one teaching our children, not MTV.

Finally, though he doesn’t teach about the seventh and tenth commandments directly in this part of the sermon, the same principle applies. “You shall not steal… You shall not covet your neighbor’s goods.” Don’t do it, don’t even think about doing it. Later on in the Sermon, he teaches us what to do instead: that we are to give alms, instead of taking from others, that we are to give from what we ourselves have. And then he gives the reason why it is so important that we not misuse our gifts, “No one can serve two masters. He will either hate one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon.” If we place our desire for wealth and possessions over our desire for God and the obligation to serve others, then we are not fulfilling the commandments.

Now, in today’s culture, we don’t like to be told what not to do. We don’t want to put up with anything that impinges on our perceived freedoms. But remember what the book of Sirach said, “before man are life and death, whichever he chooses shall be given him.” The commandments of God are not a list of “thou shalt nots” designed to keep us from having fun or experiencing pleasure. But instead, behind each commandment is a basic human good that is worth protecting. And if we understand that, then the Commandments are a source of life, freedom, and joy.

The fifth and eighth commandments protect the good of life, in both its spiritual and physical dimensions. The sixth and ninth commandments protect the goodness of chastity and marriage. And the seventh and tenth commandments protect the goodness of God’s creation and help us to keep everything always ordered towards him.

Sircah says “If you choose you can keep the commandments”, and Jesus says, “Whoever fulfills and teaches these commands shall be great in the kingdom of God.” And will it be worth I, keeping the commandments? Do we want to reach that kingdom? Well, St. Paul describes that kingdom, “Eye has not seen, ear has not heard, nor has it so much as dawned on man what God has prepared for those who love him.” And who is it that loves him? Jesus said, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.”

The Goal of a Virtuous Life

2011-02-05T19:09:00.002-05:00

Homily, 5th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr.

I once heard an interview of a composer who was talking about playing piano, and one thing he said struck me: he said that for a good piano player with lots of practice, the fingers themselves, as it were, seem to learn the motions for complex patterns, so that the piano player can do them without thinking, almost habitually. And in this way, a piano player can move on to more advanced pieces of music, because he doesn’t need to practice the basics.

Well, it’s the same way with the soul. God gives us certain gifts and talents, that he wants us to use in the Christian life so that we may attain our goal of eternal salvation, and these gifts are called the virtues. The new Catechism says this, “A virtue is an habitual and firm disposition to do the good. It allows the person not only to perform good acts, but to give the best of himself. The virtuous person tends toward the good with all his sensory and spiritual powers; he pursues the good and chooses it in concrete actions. The goal of a virtuous life is to become like God.” (CCC 1803)

And according to the tradition of the Church, there are four Cardinal virtues, on which all the other human virtues are hinged.

The first is the virtue of Prudence, (CCC 1806) which helps us “to discern our true good in every circumstance and to choose the right means of achieving it.”

The second is Justice, (CCC 1807) which is “the moral virtue that consists in the constant and firm will to give their due to God and neighbor.” As the psalm says, “Well for the man who is gracious and lends, who conducts his affairs with justice.”

The third is Fortitude, (CCC 1808) which “ensures firmness in difficulties and constancy in the pursuit of the good” and “strengthens the resolve to resist temptations and to overcome obstacles in the moral life.” It helps us to “conquer fear, even fear of death, and to face trials and persecutions.” As the psalm says, “His heart is steadfast; he shall not fear.”

The final Cardinal virtue is Temperance, (CCC 1809) which “moderates the attraction of pleasures and provides balance in the use of created goods. It ensures the will’s mastery over instincts and keeps desires within the limits of what is honorable.”

And just as a piano player has to practice his or her talents in order to be a master, so too we as Christians must exercise the virtues in order to attain our goal of the ultimate good, to become like God and to live with him for all eternity. (CCC 1810-1811) Though we are wounded by sin, Jesus offers us grace to persevere in the pursuit of virtues. We exercise the virtues by continually educating ourselves, by repeatedly acting on what we know is good, and by persevering in our pursuit even when we fall short. To grow in prudence, we constantly educate ourselves, seeking God’s wisdom to guide our lives. To grow in justice, we constantly seek to know God’s will and to act on what is right. To grown in fortitude, we constantly draw strength from the Lord. And to grow in temperance, we moderate our desires through frequent penance and fasting, so that our desires are controlled by our reason and not vice versa.

And over time, God will help us to grow in these virtues by purifying our efforts and lifting us up. Practically, God helps us grow in virtue when we ask him in prayer for light and strength, when we respond to the movement of the Holy Spirit in our souls, when we act on his call to love what is good and avoid what is evil, when we have recourse to the sacraments, especially confession and the Eucharist. And with effort, like the good piano player, these virtues will become habitual, so that we can move onto more advanced works, becoming more like God each day of our lives.

Now those are what are called the human virtues, but there are three other virtues which come entirely as a gift from God, which help us to live moral lives as his children. These are the theological virtues of faith, hope and love. Through the virtue of faith, “we believe in God and in all that he has said and revealed to us” (CCC 1814). Through the virtue of hope, “we desire the kingdom of heaven and eternal life” (CCC 1817) always keeping our final goal and supreme good before us. And through the virtue of love, “we love God above all things for his own sake, and our neighbor as ourselves for the love of God.” (CCC 1822)

Though we cannot increase these virtues through repeated good acts like the Cardinal virtues – faith, hope, and love are entirely gifts from God – we can grow in these virtues by being responsive to God’s grace in our lives, turning to him in faith, keeping him always as our goal in all that we do, and acting on our love for him. And if we ask him in prayer to increase our faith, hope, and love, then he will respond with more than we could imagine.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus says, “You are the light of the world… you must let your light shine before men so that they may see the goodness in your acts and give praise to your heavenly Father.” Well, the virtues are what help us to know the good, to pursue the good, to do the good, and to persevere in the good. And if we practice these virtues, exercising them with dedication and commitment like a good piano player, then we will attain that which we hope for, that which we believe in, the object of all our love, eternal life with our Savior, Jesus Christ.

For the Way Home, Look to Jesus

2011-01-16T13:40:00.000-05:00

Homily, 2nd Sunday Ordinary Time Cycle A
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., St. Joseph's, Dalton, GA

I remember when I was about 10 years old I used to pray a lot. Believe it or not, I was a pretty devout kid. I would pray each evening before going to bed, and I remember most especially one prayer that I prayed each night, I said: “Dear God, I love you as much as I love everyone in the whole world.” Now I don’t know if that was a perfect prayer, theologically, but I think God knew what I meant. But then there was another prayer, that I prayed just once, as I remember. For some reason, I prayed, perhaps rather boldly, “Dear Lord, I want to be a part of your plan.”

Well, a few years went by, and I eventually lost the piety of my youth, and I got to the point where I had pretty much no faith at all, and I didn’t practice any religion till the end of college. But, God never gives up on us, and as I was graduating college, I had a conversion experience, and I began my faith anew. And the funny thing about it was this: the first thing I remembered, when I came back into the faith, was that prayer, telling God how much I loved him. I guess he was reminding me that he loved me too and that he didn’t forget the prayer of my youth. But later, when I began to feel a calling to the priesthood, I remembered also the other prayer, asking God to let me be a part of his plan. God is also faithful to his promises and be careful what you ask for.

Well, today we are finally back to “ordinary time” in the Church, and as we begin the New Year, we are beginning again our yearly path through the Gospel. We’ve just celebrated the mysteries of Jesus’ birth, and now, in today’s Gospel, we see the beginning of his public ministry, where John the Baptist shouts out, “Look there! The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!” Jesus was revealed to us in the manger as the Son of God, and now he is revealed to us in public as a Savior who has come to take away our sins.

So, again, this is a time of beginnings, and perhaps it would be good to reflect back on when we first began our Christian journey, when we first encountered Christ, when we first chose to follow him. And, as you have probably learned, no two stories are the same. Some of us were “cradle Catholics”, born into the faith, as it were, where the faith has always been a part of our very being, something we never questioned or doubted, because we never needed to. Others of us probably just went through the motions growing up in the faith, until we had an experience which made the faith real to us. Others perhaps just grew lukewarm over time, until we saw a need to recommit ourselves. Others still, like myself, may have left the practice of the faith for a time, “fallen away” as it were, only to come back later, either after coming to our senses on our own, or after a dramatic experience which brought us back to the faith of our youth. Still others, and I see this a lot, are adult converts to the faith who came to the Catholic faith because of the witness of a Catholic friend or spouse, or perhaps after long searching.

In whatever way we came into the faith, in whatever way our faith began, and no matter where we are on the journey now, the most important thing we need to understand about our faith is that we must first and foremost encounter Christ, and there is no reason why we cannot begin that encounter anew today. If you truly want to live your faith, then you must encounter Christ on a day to day basis - in the big things and the small things of life: in our work, our family responsibilities, and in whatever way God has asked us to serve him.

As St. Paul says, “you have been consecrated in Christ Jesus and called to be a holy people.” And that call goes throughout our entire lives. If we have fallen away, the call is to come back; if we are lukewarm, the call is to renew ourselves; if we are still searching, the call is to seek Christ; if we are lost in sin, the call is to “Look there! The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!” If we are already fervent, then the call is to further consecrate ourselves to Christ, so that he may make us, as Isaiah says, “a light to the nations, that [his] salvation may reach to the ends of the earth.”

Epiphany 2011

2011-01-06T08:07:00.001-05:00

Homily, Epiphany, Year A, 2011
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., St. Joseph's

The three Magi came to Bethlehem bearing gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. The gold represents all that is valuable in the world, material things and comfort we seek in this life. So the gold honored Jesus as King of the World, the Prince of Peace. Frankincense was used to represent prayers rising to heaven, a fragrance which was pleasing to God. So the frankincense was used to honor Jesus’ Divinity, the Mighty God. And myrrh is used for embalming, representing death and sacrifice – Christ was given myrrh mixed with wine on the cross, and he was anointed with myrrh in anticipation of his burial. So myrrh honors his humanity as our Savior who was destined to die on the Cross, Jesus’ supreme gift of self.

So when we come to Jesus today, we come to him bringing gifts as well. The gifts of gold we bring are all that we value in this life; we bring it to the feet of Jesus and make him the center and focus of all that we do, in our work, our recreation, our belongings and material things, our family. By doing this, we show him that we are not attached to the goods of this world and have not tried to serve two masters: God and mammon.

The gifts of frankincense we bring are our prayers, our spiritual life, our relationship with God. If we would have but faith, we would know that our prayers pleasing to God, rising up to him like incense and not stopping till they reach his throne in heaven.

The gifts of myrrh we bring are all of the sacrifices we make for the Lord. All the times during the day that we are called to “die to self” and sacrifice our own comfort, welfare, or convenience for the sake of others.

And when we do make these gifts to Jesus, they should come from our whole selves, and we should not be afraid to give what we have, even if it seems little. For the other gift-bearers in Bethlehem were the shepherds. And while they could not bring gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh, they came to Jesus with what they had: perhaps a lamb for wool to keep him warm, some cheese and milk and butter from goats to keep him and Joseph and Mary well fed. It didn’t matter that their gifts were small; they were precious just the same to our Lord.

Coming to the child Jesus in Bethlehem is a journey of faith. The Shepherds trusted in the word of the angel, and we must likewise trust in God’s word, which we find revealed in Sacred Scripture and in the teachings of the Church. We must stay close to his commandments so that we can avoid those who would deceive us with false and deceitful teachings and ideas. And we must be prepared to find Jesus in the simple things in life, in the poor, the lonely, and abandoned, in all aspects of our lives.

And on this journey of faith, we must persevere, especially when we are tempted to doubt or discouraged by the difficulty of the path. The three wise men followed the star no matter where it lead, and we must do the same. The star we seek, the star we follow is Christ our King who gives light to the world; Christ our Mighty God, who hears our prayers and answers them; Christ our Savior, who suffered and died for us so that our sins might be forgiven and we could experience God’s presence in our lives. And when we find him, we must offer him all that we are, all the gifts we have to give, for in return, he will give us salvation, eternal life, and his very self.

Awake! For your sake God has become man!

2010-12-24T20:48:00.005-05:00

Homily, Christmas Eve, 2010
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., St. Joseph's, Dalton, GA

A friend of mine (Jody Bottum, former editor of First Things) tells this Christmas story of his youth: Late Afternoon on Christmas Eve, the year I was eleven, my father took me with him across the river [to visit] Mr. Harmon, a rancher who lived over on the other side of the river... If you've never seen that South Dakota country in winter, you have no idea how desolate land can be... But you can't pay a visit in South Dakota, especially at Christmas, without facing food--endless besieging armies of it... From the moment she spotted us turning off the highway, Mrs. Harmon must have been piling the table... But then Mrs. Harmon began to yell, "Jim, Jim, the horses are out." And in a tangle of arms and jackets, we poured out to herd back the frightened animals... four expensive quarter-horses [got] loose on the prairie. Mr. Harmon climbed into his pickup and headed north along the highway, while my father drove off to the south. Mrs. Harmon took it more calmly. She went inside to telephone the neighbors, and the boys began to saddle three horses to ride out and look.

You have to understand the significance of that third horse, for it marks the difference between the town and the country--even a little town surrounded by country. The Harmons just assumed that an eleven-year-old boy is old enough to help, while my mother would have pitched a fit at my riding out on the prairie alone, a few hours from sundown, in the middle of winter.

[So he sets out to find the horse...] There was little chance of getting lost. I knew, more or less, how to ride, and the highway was in sight much of time. Still, as the land grew colder and darker, the excitement faded, leaving only brittle determination, a boy's will not to be the first to turn back.

I can't have ridden far through the Christmas hills--maybe three or four miles--when I came over a rise and spotted one of the horses skittering in front of a worn farmhouse. Standing in the yard was a woman, a rope in one hand and her other hand held up empty toward the horse. She was hatless and tiny, hardly bigger than I was, with a man's heavy riding coat hanging down below her knees, and she seemed very old to me. Yellow light streamed out on the cold ground from the one lit window of the house.

As I rode down, she waved me back, talking to the horse in the gentlest, lightest patter, as though nothing much had ever been wrong, really, and, anyway, everything was all right, now. He bobbed back and forth, nearer and nearer, until he touched her open hand with his steaming nose and she eased the loop over his neck.

"Bea Harmon called," she said, handing me the rope, "and told me you were all out looking for this boy. They often come to me, you know. He'll go along quietly now."

Her eyes were quick and black. "I don't see many people, here about," she chirruped, like a winter bird. "Come in and get warm. I'll make some coffee. No, you're a little young for coffee. I'll put some water on for tea, and there're the cookies I made in case someone came by." But I was proud of bringing back one of the strays and wouldn't wait. I shied away from her outstretched hand and galloped back.

Sometimes you catch sight of a turn leading off into the distance, a dirt track or a county road at right angles to the highway as you drive along in the straight, miles-long line you see only in the West. And you know you'll never go up it, never come back to find where it leads, and always there remains a sense, as you roll past, that maybe this time you should have turned and followed that track up into the distant hills.

Her hair was the same thin shade of gray as the weather-beaten pickets of the fence around her frozen garden. She had a way with horses, and she was alone on Christmas Eve. There is little in my life I regret as much as that I would not stay for just one cookie, just one cup of tea.

On this Christmas Eve, do not let the opportunity presented to you pass you by. Christ has come in Bethlehem. The Child is born. Emmanuel, God-is-with-us. Our Savior is at hand. Awake and greet him.

St. Augustine would tell us (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.”

If you recognize his first coming as a child in the simplicity of Bethlehem, if you listen to his teachings and act on them, then perhaps your heart will be open to see him in the many ways in which he continues to reveal himself to us today.

(HPR, Dec. ’98) I remember once reading a reminiscence written by a prominent theologian who taught at a major university. She was traveling across country to give a lecture, and it was an exhausting trip, as she had to change trains a couple times and found it difficult to eat while traveling. As she walked through one terminal, her fatigue and hunger overcame her, and she fainted at the foot of a staircase. Nearby, there was a small group of homeless men. One of them left the group and came over and helped her. He helped her up and gently sat her down on the stair. He then went off for a moment, returned with a cup of water, and stood their anxiously as she drank it up. Then he went off again, got a porter from the train she was headed to, and then helped pile her bags on the carrier. As she was leaving with the porter, she weakly tried to thank him, but he waved off her thanks with the simple words, “Oh, you’d have done the same for me!”

And she wept, for she knew it wasn’t true. Though she was a very learned theologian, she encountered Christ in a way she was not expecting in a person where she had not expected to find him.

If our hearts our open to the Child of Bethlehem, we will find Christ easily, when:
- we reconcile with with an estranged family member, even if just a card or note.
- we forgive someone who has harmed us.
- we take time to listen to the lonely or distressed.
- we comfort those who have lost a loved one.
- we help someone in need, especially during these difficult economic times.
- we gather our families together to pray, inviting him into our household.
- we make peace with our enemies.
- we bring a smile to someone's face.
- we share in the suffering of the ill, the elderly, the dying by visiting them, spending time with them.
- we encourage those whose faith is weak.

St. Teresa of Avila,would say:
Christ has no body now, but yours.
No hands, but yours,
No feet, but yours.
Yours are the eyes through which Christ’s compassion must look out on the world.
Yours are the feet with which He is to go about doing good.
Yours are the hands with which he is to bless us now.

Find Christ now. Greet him. Welcome him into your heart and your home. Hold him in your arms as did the Blessed Mother, kiss him with good deeds, embrace him with love, and tell him you love him continuously in prayer and in the people you meet.

The Christmas Proclamation

2010-12-24T16:01:00.001-05:00

* The twenty-fifth day of December.
* In the five thousand one hundred and ninety-ninth year of the creation of the world from the time when God in the beginning created the heavens and the earth;
* the two thousand nine hundred and fifty-seventh year after the flood;
* the two thousand and fifteenth year from the birth of Abraham;
* the one thousand five hundred and tenth year from Moses and the going forth of the people of Israel from Egypt;

* the one thousand and thirty-second year from David's being anointed king;
* in the sixty-fifth week according to the prophecy of Daniel;
* in the one hundred and ninety-fourth Olympiad;
* the seven hundred and fifty-second year from the foundation of the city of Rome;
* the forty second year of the reign of Octavian Augustus;
* the whole world being at peace,
* in the sixth age of the world,
* Jesus Christ the eternal God and Son of the eternal Father, desiring to sanctify the world by his most merciful coming, being conceived by the Holy Spirit, and nine months having passed since his conception,
* was born in Bethlehem of Judea of the Virgin Mary, being made flesh.
* The Nativity of our Lord Jesus Christ according to the flesh.

Saint Joseph and the Modern Man

2010-12-18T13:43:00.000-05:00

Homily, 4th Sunday of Advent, Cycle A
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., St. Joseph's, Dalton, GA

I have learned in my life, and perhaps you have as well, that God seldom does what we expect him to do or would like him to do.

And certainly that is the case with the Incarnation, which we will commemorate on Christmas day. Those who were waiting and praying for the Messiah certainly didn’t expect him to come as a child, born of a Virgin in a stable in Bethlehem. Perhaps they expected this descendent of Kings to be born of a King, into a royal and noble family, with all the power, wealth and honor that entailed.

But God didn’t do what everyone was expecting him to do. Instead, he chose an obscure descendent of King David, a humble carpenter from Nazareth, to be the head of the family from which his Son would come. So, as we bring the season of Advent, this season of preparation, to a close, let’s look at St. Joseph.

The first thing to note about St. Joseph is his dilemma. God not only does the unexpected, but he puts Joseph in a tough situation. His wife was pregnant, and he did not yet know that she had conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit after the annunciation by Gabriel. Yet certainly he could not believe that she could have done something wrong. So how does he handle his dilemma? Since he is an “upright man, unwilling to expose her to the law”, he chooses to divorce her quietly because that will cause her the least harm. He was not interested in what would benefit him the most, but instead, he thought only of what was best for her. In fact, the shame would have fallen on him, because he would have been seen as a deadbeat who abandoned his fiancé. He was not only a just man, but he was a charitable man, willing to make sacrifices for the sake of others, and to give of himself.

Perhaps God was testing him, to see if he was worthy to be the foster father of Jesus, to see if he would have the qualities necessary to be a father to the Savior. But finally, the Lord sends an angel to tell him the rest of the story, to tell him what he must do. And that is the next thing to note about St. Joseph: when he awoke, the scriptures say, “he did as the angel of the Lord had directed him.” He did not question the Lord’s will; he did not second-guess what he had been told; he simply submitted himself to God’s will and went about his duty as he was told.

Again, God had acted in an unexpected way, and for St. Joseph, that meant that his life from that moment onwards was radically changed. Through the tradition of the Church, in the writings of the saints, and in a lot of Christian art, St. Joseph is pictured as an old man. Since he was the guardian and protector of Mary’s virginity, many in the church, in their excess of piety, thought that he must certainly be an old man. But, this attitude, this image, as Fulton Sheen once said, “betrays a lack of confidence in the ability of young people to live chaste lives, as if the condition for living holy purity is that one be old.” So isn’t it much more beautiful to picture St. Joseph as a young man who immediately said “yes” to God when he called. St. Joseph was a chaste man. Not all husbands are called to live perfect continence within marriage as he did, but all husbands are called to live and act chastely, not treating their wives or other women as objects, but instead treating them with respect and dignity.

And I do not find it too hard to believe that he would so joyfully accept God’s will for his life for he was already a just man who knew the joys of keeping the commandments and loving God and our neighbor as himself. After all, he was being called to participate in the greatest wonder in human history - the birth of the God-man, Immanuel, God is with us; he was being called to be the guardian and protector of this divine child, and he had the privilege to be the husband of the most marvelous woman who has ever existed, Mary.

And to top it all off, St. Joseph, at the command of the angel, had the privilege of giving that child the name of Jesus, “he who saves his people from their sins”, the name above every other name, the name at which every knee should bend, in the heavens and on the earth, the name that every tongue must confess as Lord.
There is a beautiful prayer in the tradition of the Church, which is especially appropriate for Advent and Christmas, “O blessed Joseph, happy man who privilege it was, not only to see and hear that God whom many a king has longed to see, yet saw not, longed to hear, yet heard not; but also to carry him in your arms and kiss him, to clothe him and watch over him! Pray for us, Blessed Joseph.”

Because he has been so highly honored, and because he was a man of such virtue, it is no wonder that, next to the Blessed Mother, he is considered the greatest of the Saints. Pope Paul VI once said, “St. Joseph is the model of those humble ones that Christianity raises up to great destinies; ... he is the proof that in order to be a good and genuine follower of Christ, there is no need of great things--it is enough to have the common, simple and human virtues, but they need to be true and authentic.”

So, as this Advent draws to a close, let us look to St. Joseph as a model of, as a just, honest, humble, obedient, hard working, chaste and pure man, who was always ready to do the Lord’s will. Because if we can model ourselves on him, then perhaps we will be responsive when the Lord does the unexpected in our lives.

Holiness: Doing God's Will with a Smile

2010-12-11T09:57:00.000-05:00

Homily, 3rd Sunday of Advent, Cycle A
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., St. Joseph's, Dalton, GA

Years ago, I had a brush with greatness: my Christmas present to myself that year was a short trip to New York City with a couple close friends to see a new production of the great opera, Lucia di Lammermoor, at the Metropolitan Opera. Well, on my way to pick up my friends at their hotel, I literally almost bumped into Luciano Pavarotti as he was getting out of a limousine. I did the classic double-take, but since I’m not a groupie, I didn’t stop to get his autograph or anything.

Years earlier, I had an even better brush with greatness, this time with Mother Teresa. When I was still in the seminary, we used to make monthly visits to the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception in Washington D.C. We would act as tour guides for visitors or act as altar servers during the many masses they had on Sundays. Well one year, Mother Teresa was there to see 26 of her sisters make their final vows of poverty, chastity, obedience, and service to the poorest of the poor. So I got to serve at that Mass. When it came time for the presentation of the gifts, I was to lead the procession of about a dozen sisters who would bring the gifts forward. Well, at the last minute, they decided that Mother Teresa was going to join the procession and bring up some gifts. So I had to wait a couple of minutes for her to get ready, and I kept looking back to see when to go, she was kind of slow and I was getting kind of anxious, and finally, Mother Teresa looked me straight in the eyes and said, “Go!” And I tell you, I was ready to go to Calcutta or wherever she sent me, so thrilled was I to be in her presence.

What I thought was interesting, however, was to see the crowds of people flock around her after the Mass. Apparently, some people had been following her all over town, and a fellow seminarian commented that they seemed like “Mother Teresa groupies.”

Well, why is it that a simple nun attracted such attention? Why did people want to be in her presence and get a blessing or a kind word? Why? For one simple reason: her holiness. Holiness is attractive, it makes a person beautiful, and it has an effect on anyone who comes in contact with it.

And the same was true of John the Baptist in the Gospel today. Jesus said, (Matthew 11:7-11), “What did you go out to the desert to see? A reed swayed by the wind? Then what did you go out to see? Someone dressed in fine clothing? Then why did you go out? To see a prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet… Amen, I say to you, among those born of women there has been none greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.” People came to John the Baptist because of his holiness, and they wanted a share of his holiness.

What is holiness? Holiness means to be “set apart” – to be set apart from worldly things for spiritual things. In other words, to be set apart for God. Holiness should remind us that we are destined to eternal life, the kingdom of heaven, and should not set our hearts on the passing things of this world.

But is holiness reserved for only a few, like John the Baptist, Mother Teresa, or the Pope? One of the spiritual writers says, (Fr. Bruno James in SCC #458), “It is a mistake to believe that the spiritual life is only for a chosen few; that sanctity is in much the same category as genius and only within the scope of a tiny minority.” Pope Pius XI (SCC) put it this way, “Our Lord himself tells us: ‘Be perfect as your Father in heaven is perfect.’ Let no one think that this invitation is addressed to a small and exclusive number, and that it is permissible for the rest to remain in a lower degree of virtue. It is clear that this law obliges everybody and without exception.” And finally, the new catechism says this, CCC 2013: “All Christians in any state or walk of life are called to the fullness of Christian life and to the perfection of charity. All are called to holiness: Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect.”

How then do we, in our daily lives, become holy? Well, if holiness means being set apart for God, then we do so by setting ourselves apart for God. And this is done in one primary way: conforming our wills to the will of God. In the Our Father, we say “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” By uniting our wills on earth with the will of God in heaven, we help to make his kingdom present in the world.

So, St. Teresa of Avila would say (SCC), “The highest perfection consists not in interior favors or in great raptures or in visions or in the spirit of prophecy, but in bringing our wills so closely into conformity with the will of God that, as soon as we realize he wills anything, we desire it ourselves with all our might… bitter with the sweet, knowing that to be his Majesty’s will.”

Some might think this a difficult task, and indeed, the modern world wants to make it a difficult task by saturating every form of media with temptations to worldly things and mocking those who would pursue a life of virtue. But, to be honest, nothing could be easier. I’ll quote at length one of my favorite spiritual writers, deCaussade (in SCC#465), “If the business of becoming holy seems to present insufferable difficulties, it is merely because we have a wrong idea about it. In reality, holiness consists of one thing only: complete loyalty to God’s will. Now everyone can practice this loyalty, whether actively or passively. To be actively loyal means obeying the laws of God and the Church and fulfilling all the duties imposed on us by our way of life. Passive loyalty means that we lovingly accept all that God sends us at each moment of the day. Now is there anything here too difficult for us? Certainly nothing in active loyalty, for if the duties are beyond our powers, we are not expected to attempt to fulfill them. If we are too ill to go to Mass, we need not. And it is the same for all other precepts which lay down duties. But, of course, there can be no exemption from precepts which forbid wrongdoing, for we are never allowed to sin. Can anything be more sensible, or easier? We are left with no excuse. Yet God asks nothing more than this. But he does require it from everyone without exception.”

So, it’s real simple: live out your vocation faithfully, and do not sin. And how do we get the strength to do those two things? By prayer. Through prayer we draw closer to the Lord as an intimate friend, and the closer we draw to him, the more we will know his will for our lives, and the more strength he will give us to grown in virtue and overcome sin.

But personal holiness is not only good for us, it is good for those around us. It is a powerful way of evangelizing. Holiness is like a sweet-smelling perfume that fills a room. Could you ever imagine anyone using foul language around Mother Teresa? Or telling an off-color joke? Or gossiping about someone who wasn’t present? In the same way, whether in the work place or in school, if you refuse to engage in gossip, use foul language, or participate in off color stories or jokes, then you will have a positive effect on those around you. Likewise, in your homes, your family can grow in virtue if you set your home apart for God, by not allowing any pornography or violence in the home through television, by not getting caught up in consumerism or materialism and the constant pursuit of new and better things and gadgets, by making you home a place for the family to grow in their vocation as Christians.

And during this Advent season, we ought to especially be preparing ourselves by lives of holiness so that we can commemorate the birth of our Savior and welcome the child Jesus into our hearts.

Mother Teresa had a simple definition: "True holiness consists in doing God's will with a smile."

Justification: Forgiveness and a New Heart

2010-12-04T11:15:00.000-05:00

Homily, 2nd Sunday of Advent, Cycle A
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., St. Joseph's, Dalton, GA

One of the things I love most about the holiday season is the music. I like to listen to public radio, and around this time of year, they start playing all the classics. One of my favorites, which always receives its share of air time, is Handel’s “Messiah”, of which I’m sure you’re all familiar with the famous “Hallelujah” chorus. But I have two other favorites that come from Handel’s Messiah, one is near the beginning, “Comfort ye my people”, and the other is “And he shall purify the sons of Levi.” Those songs are very much about the priesthood, and when listening to them, I can make them a prayer.

In today's Gospel, Matthew tells us, "John the Baptist appeared, preaching in the desert of Judea and saying, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!”" And he tells us that, people from "Jerusalem, all Judea, and the whole region around the Jordan were going out to him and were being baptized by him in the Jordan River as they acknowledged their sins."

Why did so many people flock to see John the Baptist? As Isaiah said, and as it is sung in Handel’s Messiah, “comfort ye, comfort ye my people, says your God. Speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem, cry out unto her that her warfare is accomplished, that her iniquity is pardoned.” John was so attractive because his words were words of mercy, words of comfort. If you repent and be baptized, your sins will be forgiven. For these people knew one simple fact: they were sinners in need of forgiveness. And the words of John the Baptist filled them will great joy and hope: the Lord was coming, the promised Messiah who would obtain forgiveness for their sins.

But, you know, it was more than that. It was more than just hearing the comforting words that their sins were going to be forgiven. There was something hidden in John’s words which also attracted them. He would say, “I have baptized you in water; He [who is to come] will baptize you in the Holy Spirit.” Forgiveness was part of the promise, but that was not the whole promise, for the Scriptures are full of other promises through the prophets, Ezekiel said (11:19), “I will give them a new heart and put a new spirit within them; I will remove the stony heart from their bodies, and replace it with a natural heart…” and Malachi said (3:3), as it is sung in Handel’s Messiah, “And he shall purify the sons of Levi, that they may offer unto to the Lord an offering in righteousness.”

Now, to explain this, I’ll need to go into history a little bit. I’m sure you all know at least a little bit about the Protestant Reformation. Well, one of the key disputes between Catholics and Protestants at that time was this: what happens to a person when God forgives them, or what we call the question of justification. When Martin Luther was trying to explain this from the Protestant perspective, he taught that when the Lord justifies a sinner, the soul becomes like “dung covered with snow.” In other words, the person remains in their sin, still full of filth and corruption, like dung, but the Lord covers them with snow, so that when he looks down, all he sees is the white snow and not the dung, which is still there. You’re still a sinner, but the Lord overlooks that because Christ's righteousness is imputed to us. And certainly this flows from one of the promises of Isaiah (1:18), “Though your sins be like scarlet, they may become white as snow; Though they be crimson red, they may become white as wool.” And the Psalm says (103:12), “As far as the east is from the west, so far does he remove our sins.”

But it doesn’t end there, for the truth that the Catholic Church upheld against Martin Luther and his followers was that something else also happens when your sins are forgiven: you are purified, renewed, given a new heart. The dung, our filth and corruption, is not just covered up, but our souls are recreated, and a seed of glory is planted, a seed that if allowed to germinate will bear fruit for eternal life. In other words, when the Lord forgives your sins, he does so with "the Holy Spirit and fire." He not only forgets and overlooks your sins, he also creates in you a new heart, as St. Paul says, “So whoever is in Christ is a new creation: the old things have passed away; behold, new things have come.”

And this happens first in Baptism, for Jesus says that we must be born from above by water and the Spirit (John 3:5). So Baptism accomplishes in us this new birth, this justification, where our sins are forgiven and we are recreated. When I baptize a child, part of the ritual says, “You have become a new creation… You have put on Christ. In Him you have been baptized.” And this new life in Christ should always be increasing, as St. Paul says in today’s reading, “It is my wish that you may be found rich in the harvest of justice which Jesus Christ has ripened in you.”

But, as we are all too aware, after Baptism, we still have our free will, and the temptations to sin from the world, the flesh and the devil often seem too strong. In short, despite the great gift of rebirth we have been given, we often turn from it. But we should not lose hope, because our Lord has given us another great sacrament, Confession, which the Fathers of the Church have called the “Baptism of tears.” And in this Sacrament, the same thing happens: we are forgiven, and renewed.

So, in this season of Advent, we can be like the people who responded to John the Baptist’s preaching, confessing our sins and reforming our lives through penance, then we will be truly ready when He comes again – and by the witness of our lives, we can be voices crying out in the wilderness of this modern world, announcing that “the reign of God is at hand.”

Preparing to Receive the Lord Worthily

2010-11-28T09:22:00.001-05:00

Homily, 1st Sunday of Advent, Cycle A
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., St. Joseph's, Dalton, GA

Just before Christmas of 1980, Pope John Paul II said Mass for over 2000 children in a parish in Rome. And he began his homily in this way, “How are you preparing for Christmas?” “By praying,” the children shouted back. “Very good, by praying, but also by going to confession. You must go to confession so that you can go to communion. Will you do that?” And of course, all the children replied “We will!” And then the Pope said, “Yes, you ought to go,” and then he lowered his voice, “The Pope will also go to confession so as to receive the Child Jesus worthily.” (ICG, v1, 1.2)

On this first Sunday of Advent, we are beginning again the liturgical cycle where the story of our salvation is told. During Advent, we anticipate the coming of the Lord, in Christmastime we celebrate his birth, during Ordinary time we study his teachings, in Lent we meditate on his Passion and Death, and during Easter we rejoice in his Resurrection.

And so through this continual liturgical cycle, year after year, the Church reminds us that we live on a time line. We live in the present, we can look back to the past, and we can look to and speculate about the future as we march towards it. Our faith tells us a few things about this time line. There is a beginning, Creation. And there is an end, the end of time. And there are two points on that line which have changed everything for human history, and we live between them: one marks the place where Something Has Happened, and the other marks the place where Something Will Happen. The first happening was the Birth of Christ, the Word made Flesh, God became Man. The second happening is the day when he will come again in glory. (Walker Percy on Canticle in “Signposts”)

You see, in Christianity God comes to us. We speak of Emmanuel, “God is with us”, and sing “God has visited his people.” Other religions may tell you that God is out there, beyond reach, or that he is impersonal or uncaring. And others may try to tell you ways in which you can reach God all on your own. But Christianity is unique in that we believe that God has come to us, on his own initiative because of his great love for us, to end that separation from him caused by our sin. And moreover, he will come again, and we will never be separated from him again.

His first coming was hidden, in a stable in a small town outside Jerusalem. His future coming will be for all to see as he comes with the Heavenly Jerusalem. At his first coming, he was wrapped in swaddling clothes in a manger, at his second, he will be clothed in light as in a garment. In his first coming, he endured his Passion, despite its shame, enduring the mockery and humiliation by the soldiers; in the second, he will come in glory, escorted by an army of angels. (OOR, 1st Sun. Adv)

When he came the first time, he sought to teach us his way of love by gentle persuasion, so that we would freely choose him; but when he comes again, the time for learning and choosing and growing will be complete.

But while we are living in this in-between time, this time between his first and second comings, we have the opportunity to learn more about him, to choose him, and to grow in his love. And in this in-between time, he continues to come to us, in a veiled and hidden way requiring faith not sight, in the sacraments, most especially in the Eucharist.

St. Paul says to us today, “You know what hour it is, how it is full time now for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed; the night is far gone, the day is at hand.” And he’s simply telling us a simple fact: each hour that passes, we are one hour closer to our eternal destiny. And Jesus gives us the example of the people in Noah’s time, who were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, right up until the time that the Deluge swept upon them. It’s not that those things were bad, we must continue to live our vocation in the midst of the world, but we must live our lives prepared to give an account of ourselves. We cannot live in “carousing and drunkenness, sexual excess and lust, quarreling and jealousy” as if we were not facing the day of judgment.

And that’s the difference between the people in the Gospel: “Two men will be out in the field; one will be taken and one will be left. Two women will be grinding meal; one will be taken and one will be left.” In each case, both were doing the same thing, but only one was found worthy. Why? Because they were prepared. They lived the goodness of marriage, but not in “sexual excess and lust”; they ate and drank, but not in “carousing and drunkenness”; and they worked in the fields and at the mills, but not in “quarreling and jealousy.” In other words, they lived their lives for the Lord and in anticipation of his coming, by living their vocation, becoming friends with the Lord, and not letting the thief that is sin break into the house of their souls.

And that’s why I told the story of the Pope -- encouraging the children to prepare for Christmas by going to confession so that they may receive the child Jesus worthily and with love. If the Pope can examine his conscience and find reasons to go to confession, then certainly you and I, when we examine our conscience, can find reasons to go to confession. And during this time of Advent, we have a double motivation: not only because its good for us as we await Jesus’ second coming, but also because confession is a way to prepare for the celebration of Jesus’ first coming.

And if we can do what Jesus asks, and always be ready, especially through regular confession, then the Lord’s second coming will not catch us like a thief in the night, but instead, we will be able to say to him, “Oh, hi Lord, I was just thinking about you; I was waiting for your arrival; and meanwhile, I was doing what you asked me to do.”

Thanksgiving to Christ our King

2010-11-20T11:38:00.000-05:00

Homily, Christ the King, Cycle C
St. Joseph's, Dalton, Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr.

Over the years, my mother has always had a knack for getting her letters to the editor published. For some reason, they really like her down at the Atlanta Journal Constitution. Well, years ago, they published a letter of hers in the “Faith and Values” section that focused on the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday and the personal rituals of many different families. So I thought I’d share with you parts of her letter.

She starts by saying, “My husband of 33 years died from cancer in September of 1995. In my grief, I particularly dreaded Thanksgiving that year because it had been his favorite holiday. I felt an obligation to continue our family tradition of a large gathering of family and friends, but my heart just wasn’t in it. In my despair, I decided on a plan. I bought a small wire basket and placed a pad of post-its and a pen beside it. Every time I had something to be thankful for, I made myself write it down on the post-it and then I tossed it into the basket. Everything that lifted my spirits – simple things like a cardinal at the bird feeder, or answered prayers like the birth of a new grandchild – all were written down and tossed into that basket. By that Thanksgiving, the basket was already overflowing and I celebrated the holiday with a grateful heart. This year, over two years later, I am preparing for another Thanksgiving. In late summer, I married again to a fine gentleman who lost his wife to cancer a year before my husband died [And I would add that he is a fine gentleman, else I would not have let him marry my mother, and I’m a priest and can do that!]. Prominent in the great room where our now combined families and friends will gather is a very large laundry basket filled to overflowing [with little notes of thanksgiving].”

My mother learned the necessity and benefit of giving thanks always, of the need to give God praise for all of his gifts. I’m sure that all of you, as well, if you look at your lives honestly, can find so many ways to be grateful. If you are married, thank God for your husband or wife, and if you have children, you already know the great miracle of God’s gift of new life. And if you are a young person, you can thank God for the gift of your parents. We also give thanks to God for everything in our lives: our work, our recreation, the joys and pleasures. But we can also thank him for the hardships, the sufferings, and the sorrows of life, for it is by them that we grow in virtue and character, and come to realize our constant need for God’s protection and strength.

I think one of the problems in our culture today is that we take so many things for granted, and do not realize how gifted we are… Marriages often grow cold because spouses take each others love for granted. Children become rebellious because they don’t realize the sacrifices their parents have made on their behalf. Friendships fall apart because we grow selfish and forget to think of others needs. And because we are so blessed with prosperity in this country, we take our daily bread, shelter, and comfort for granted. This attitude gives us the impression that perhaps we are our own masters, self-sufficient, turning to God only on occasion or as a last resort.

But being thankful for God’s many gifts means more than just expressing our gratitude, it means realizing that we are totally dependent on him, that we can take nothing for granted. And if that is true, then the only authentic response is to totally abandon ourselves to him, accepting his will in each and every situation, so that he is truly Lord and King or our lives. This is hard for Americans to do because we value our independence and freedom. But this should really be a joy. And the reason is simple: Christ earned the right to be our king by dying for us on the Cross. As the second reading says, “He delivered us from the power of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.” Jesus does not exercise his kingship by lording it over us as worldly leaders do, the strong oppressing the weak. Instead,

He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For in him were created all things in heaven and on earth, the visible and the invisible, whether thrones or dominions or principalities or powers; all things were created through him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. He is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in all things he himself might be preeminent. For in him all the fullness was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile all things for him, making peace by the blood of his cross through him, whether those on earth or those in heaven.

And we should respond in the same way, serving him by totally giving him our lives. His kingdom is not of this world, as he said to Pilate, because he wants to reign first and foremost in our hearts.

One of the ways I remind myself of the need to always be grateful to the Lord for all he has given me, especially my priesthood, is with a picture I keep in my bedroom, the first thing I see on rising every morning. It was given to me by a friend when I was ordained a priest, and it’s a simple sketch of a bishop laying hands on a young man, at the moment of ordination to the priesthood. And at the bottom, it says, “Great is this mystery, and great the dignity of priests, to whom that is given which is not granted to angels.”

And this is referring, of course, to the Eucharist. For in Communion, we receive the body and blood, soul and divinity of our Lord, something which the angels can only adore and wonder at. And I have been given the great privilege of offering the Eucharist. But you, as well, can participate in this mystery by receiving Communion. And in doing so, you give thanks and praise to the heavenly Father, for that is what Eucharist means, “thanksgiving.”

The new catechism says this (CCC 1360): “The Eucharist is a sacrifice of thanksgiving to the Father, a blessing by which the Church expresses her gratitude to God for all his benefits… [it is a] sacrifice of praise by which the Church sings the glory of God in the name of all creation. This sacrifice of praise is possible only through Christ: he united the faithful to his person, to his praise, and to his intercession, so that the sacrifice of praise to the Father is offered through Christ and with him, to be accepted in him.”

You’ve probably heard that the Second Vatican Council encouraged the active participation of the laity in the Mass. But, the Council wasn’t referring to mere externals, it was referring first and foremost to a spiritual thanksgiving in the Eucharist. The Council said this about the laity, (LG 34) “For all their works, prayers and apostolic undertakings, family and married life, daily work, relaxation of mind and body, if they are accomplished in the Spirit – indeed even the hardships of life if patiently borne – all these become spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. In the celebration of the Eucharist these may most fittingly be offered to the Father along with the body of the Lord. And so, worshiping everywhere by their holy actions, the laity consecrate the world itself to God.”

So, as we gather to celebrate this Eucharist today, especially as we approach our uniquely American holiday of Thanksgiving, we should put everything on the altar, and offer it in thanksgiving, for Christ himself will in turn unite it with his prayer and offer it to the Father. Offer him your family, your friends, your children, your parents, your work, your blessings and hardships, your pleasures and sufferings, your joys and your sorrows. Offer it all to the heavenly Father through this sacrifice of thanksgiving, and ask in return for only one thing: that Jesus be Lord and King of your life.

I look forward to this upcoming Thanksgiving, because my mother has another tradition which we all enjoy. Every year, right before the big meal of the day, she makes everyone gather in a big circle, hold hands. And then we go around the circle as each of us states one thing that we were thankful for from the past year, and then one thing that we would like to pray for for the coming year. Usually, by the time we get to the end of the circle, my mom and all her friends are crying, and the men are fidgeting, trying not to show any emotion. And certainly I have a lot to be thankful for: my new parish, a family that keeps getting bigger and bigger, another year as a priest. But of course, the thing that I will most be thankful for, the gift that gives meaning to all the gifts in life, is the gift of my Savior, Jesus Christ, my Lord and King.

I’d sink the 8-ball in the corner pocket

2010-11-14T08:36:00.000-05:00

Homily, 33rd Sunday Ordinary Time, Cycle C
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr.

When I in the seminary, we had a community room for our off-time, with a large-screen TV and a pool table. We enjoyed playing pool, and it often was the occasion for many interesting theological questions. One day, one of our friends posed this question to the group: “If you knew that the end of the world was close and that Jesus was returning in exactly one hour, what would you do?” Well, the question went around the table, as each of our friends responded differently. One said he would run to be with his family and tell them he loved them. Another said he would go shout it on the rooftops so that everyone would know. Still another said he’d give everything away (though it was kind of late for that), another would go find his worse enemy and reconcile with him, and yet another said he would rush to find a priest and make the best confession of his life. And then the question got to a friend, who thought for a moment, chalked his cue, and said, “Hmm… I’d sink the 8-ball in the corner pocket.” And he proceeded to do just that.

The obvious point is this: he was prepared at all times for the Lord’s coming, even in the midst of his ordinary life. And the Lord is coming again; we believe this. It is an article of our faith which we recite in the Creed, “He will come again to judge the living and the dead and his kingdom will have no end.”

And so, on this last Sunday of the liturgical year, the Church reminds us of Jesus’ second coming in glory at the end of time, so that we will always be ready. For like Malachi says, “the day is coming, blazing like an oven”, and all of us here today will meet the Lord someday, face to face, as a savior and as a judge. On that day either “all the proud and evildoers will be” wiped away, or for those who fear his name, “there will arise the sun of justice (Jesus Christ) with [his] healing rays.” And that day will come upon us either at the moment of death, or “suddenly like a thief”, if we live to the Second Coming.

When I visit hospitals, oftentimes people are faced with very difficult situations and illnesses, and they always ask for the same thing: confession. Why? Because they tell me, whether they've been away from the Church for years or come every week, "Father, I want to be in a state of Grace." You see, if we are to be always prepared for the Lord’s coming, we must be in a state of Grace, in a state of friendship with him. And if we are in the state of Grace, then despite all the trials and tribulations that the Lord promises will come before the end - wars and insurrections, earthquakes, plagues and famines, or our daily trials like sickness, the loss of a loved one, job or family problems - we will have nothing to fear. St. John Chrysostom once wrote to a friend, “There is only one thing to be feared, my dear Olympias, only one trial, and that is sin. (I have told you this over and over again.) All the rest is beside the point, whether you talk of plots, feuds, betrayals, slanders, abuses, accusations, exile, sharpened swords, open sea, or universal war. Whatever they may be, they are all furtive and perishable. They touch the mortal body but wreak no harm on the watchful soul.” (NPNF v9, p289) Like the Lord said, “not a hair of your head will be harmed. By patient endurance you will save your lives.”

And there is the key to remaining in and growing in the state of Grace: patient endurance in the Christian life. And this involves several steps. First, we examine our conscience on a daily basis, and if we are aware of any serious sin, we must confess it in the sacrament of reconciliation. Then we will be able to receive the other sacraments, especially the Eucharist, which nourishes us on the journey and provides us with the Grace we need to live our vocation. Also, we persevere and grow in Grace by prayer, as the Lord says, “ask and it shall be given you; seek and you shall find; knock and it shall be opened to you.” We must look to the Lord for our daily needs, we must seek to know him, and we must let him enter into our hearts, so that he will be with us at all times.

And finally, we remain in and grown in Grace by responding to God’s Grace in our lives by serving others and performing works of charity. For as Jesus says, “You will be brought to give witness on account of it” – the grace you have received. Our faith must express itself in action, as St. James says, (James 2:26), “For just as a body without a spirit is dead, so also faith without works is dead.”

And so through these steps, examining our conscience, receiving the sacraments, prayer, and good works, we stay in Grace, and we grow in Grace. And why is that important? Well, St. John of the Cross put it this way, “How joyful would a man become if he were to be told, ‘The king is coming to stay in your house and show you his favor!’ I believe that he would not be able to eat or sleep at all. He would be constantly thinking about his preparations for the royal visit. Brothers and sisters, I say to you on behalf of the Lord God that he wants to come into your souls and establish his kingdom of peace… He comes in love, receive him in love.” (ICG, v5, 7.3)

Jesus will come again one day in glory, and he is about to come to us in a special way in the Eucharist. Are you prepared to receive him?

Martyrs for the Truth

2010-11-07T08:33:00.000-05:00

32nd Sunday, Ordinary Time, Cycle C
The Woman and her Seven Sons from II Maccabees 7.
Sermon by St. Augustine

Brethren, a wonderful sight is set before the eyes of our faith. We have heard with our ears, we have seen in our minds a mother, who, with a mind differing by far from that of ordinary human nature, wished her sons to leave this life before her. For all men wish to depart from this life before their children, not to follow them: she wished rather to die the last. For she did not lose her sons, but sent them before her. Neither did she consider the life they were ending, but that which they were beginning. They ceased to live a life which at some time must end with death; and they began to live one which is everlasting. The lesser wonder is it that she should watch them die; rather should we marvel that she encouraged them. Her valor was more fruitful than her child-bearing: seeing them contending, she herself contended in all those struggles, and in the triumph of all she herself conquered.

Pope John Paul II, Veritatis Splendor, "Martyrdom, the exaltation of the inviolable holiness of God's law":

91. In the Old Testament we already find admirable witnesses of fidelity to the holy law of God even to the point of a voluntary acceptance of death. A prime example is the story of Susanna: in reply to the two unjust judges who threatened to have her condemned to death if she refused to yield to their sinful passion, she says: " I am hemmed in on every side. For if I do this thing, it is death for me; and if I do not, I shall not escape your hands. I choose not to do it and to fall into your hands, rather than to sin in the sight of the Lord!" (Dan 13:22-23). Susanna, preferring to "fall innocent" into the hands of the judges, bears witness not only to her faith and trust in God but also to her obedience to the truth and to the absoluteness of the moral order. By her readiness to die a martyr, she proclaims that it is not right to do what God's law qualifies as evil in order to draw some good from it. Susanna chose for herself the "better part": hers was a perfectly clear witness, without any compromise, to the truth about the good and to the God of Israel. By her acts, she revealed the holiness of God.

At the dawn of the New Testament, John the Baptist, unable to refrain from speaking of the law of the Lord and rejecting any compromise with evil, "gave his life in witness to truth and justice", and thus also became the forerunner of the Messiah in the way he died (cf. Mk 6:17-29). "The one who came to bear witness to the light and who deserved to be called by that same light, which is Christ, a burning and shining lamp, was cast into the darkness of prison... The one to whom it was granted to baptize the Redeemer of the world was thus baptized in his own blood".

In the New Testament we find many examples of followers of Christ, beginning with the deacon Stephen (cf. Acts 6:8-7:60) and the Apostle James (cf. Acts 12:1-2), who died as martyrs in order to profess their faith and their love for Christ, unwilling to deny him. In this they followed the Lord Jesus who "made the good confession" (1 Tim 6:13) before Caiaphas and Pilate, confirming the truth of his message at the cost of his life. Countless other martyrs accepted persecution and death rather than perform the idolatrous act of burning incense before the statue of the Emperor (cf.Rev 13:7-10). They even refused to feign such worship, thereby giving an example of the duty to refrain from performing even a single concrete act contrary to God's love and the witness of faith. Like Christ himself, they obediently trusted and handed over their lives to the Father, the one who could free them from death (cf. Heb 5:7).

The Church proposes the example of numerous Saints who bore witness to and defended moral truth even to the point of enduring martyrdom, or who preferred death to a single mortal sin. In raising them to the honour of the altars, the Church has canonized their witness and declared the truth of their judgment, according to which the love of God entails the obligation to respect his commandments, even in the most dire of circumstances, and the refusal to betray those commandments, even for the sake of saving one's own life.

93... Although martyrdom represents the high point of the witness to moral truth, and one to which relatively few people are called, there is nonetheless a consistent witness which all Christians must daily be ready to make, even at the cost of suffering and grave sacrifice. Indeed, faced with the many difficulties which fidelity to the moral order can demand, even in the most ordinary circumstances, the Christian is called, with the grace of God invoked in prayer, to a sometimes heroic commitment. In this he or she is sustained by the virtue of fortitude, whereby — as Gregory the Great teaches — one can actually "love the difficulties of this world for the sake of eternal rewards".

Praying for the Dead

2010-11-02T13:15:00.000-04:00

Homily, All Souls Day
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr.

My favorite saints are St. Augustine and his mother St. Monica, who lived in the 5th century. Augustine was a wayward youth, and Monica prayed fervently for his conversion. She was kind of like the mother of the prodigal son. And indeed, he did convert to become one of the greatest scholars in the history of the Church.

Well, a couple of weeks before my father died, I read to him the famous passage from St. Augustine’s “Confessions” about the death of his mother. As she was approaching the end of her life, they were having a discussion about heaven, and he says they wondered what it would be like, as he says, to “share the eternal life enjoyed by the saints, which eye has not seen, nor ear heard, which has not even entered into the heart of man.” And he goes on, “We desired with all our hearts to drink from the streams of [the Lord's] heavenly fountain, the fountain of life.” And his mother said, “Son, as far as I am concerned, nothing in this life now gives me any pleasure. I do not know why I am still here, since I have no further hopes in this world...” And as she is dying, she makes one request of her son, who is a priest and a bishop, “Bury my body wherever you will; let not care of it cause you any concern. One thing only I ask you, that you remember me at the altar of the Lord wherever you may be.”

In other words, she was asking him to pray for her after shed died, especially at Mass. And as she had prayed so many years for his conversion, so now he prayed for her after her death. (cf. HPR Nov. ’97) “O god of my heart, I do now beseech Thee for the sins of my mother. Hear me through the medicine of the wounds that hung upon the wood [of the Cross]. May she, then, be in peace with her husband. And inspire, my Lord, [all those] whom I serve [with voice and heart and pen] to remember your servant Monica at the altar.”

Well, I read that story to my father, and I promised him that I too would remember him at the altar, especially when I celebrate Mass everyday.

But why do we pray for the dead? Especially those whom we consider to be saints, those who lived heroic lives and certainly went straight to heaven, what good does it do? We know that this is a common practice from the earliest days of the church, especially when the early Christians venerated the martyrs who died in the Roman persecutions. But what does it mean?

Well, we know we can do good works for others while we are on this earth. According to the tradition of the Church, based on the Scriptures, we can perform the Corporal Works of Mercy: feed the hungry; give drink to the thirsty; clothe the naked; shelter the homeless; visit the sick; visit the imprisoned; bury the dead.

But, we can also perform what are called Spiritual Works of Mercy: convert the sinner; instruct the ignorant; counsel the doubtful; comfort the sorrowful; bear wrongs patiently; forgive injuries; and finally, to pray for the living and the dead.

In other words, praying for the dead is a work of mercy. But how does it help them?

I think St. Catherine of Genoa summed it up best. She said, “No one is barred from heaven. Whoever wants to enter heaven may do so because God is all-merciful. Our Lord will welcome us into glory with his arms wide open. The Almighty is pure, however, and if a person is conscious of the least trace of imperfection and at the same time understands that Purgatory is ordained to do away with such impediments, the soul enters this place of purification gladly to accept so great a mercy of God. The worst suffering if these suffering souls is to have sinned against divine Goodness and not to have been purified in this life.” (ICG, v7, Nov2)

Just as we can help each other on our path to heaven while on this earth, we can also help those who have died and are being purified in Purgatory. While we are separated from them physically, we are not separated spiritually, so we can offer them spiritual works, which would include our prayers, sacrifices, and acts of charity. All of these acts of mercy, when done through, with, and in Christ, are of great benefit to those who have died and helps them as they are being purified. And this happens especially here at the Mass, at the altar where St. Monica wanted to be remembered. For in the Mass, we are transported through time, as it were, to the foot of Calvary, where we look up at our Lord Jesus Christ on the Cross and say with the good thief, “Lord, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” And so it is here that we can say, “Lord, remember our loved ones who have died, and bring them into your kingdom.”

And certainly our prayers for the dead are never wasted. I remember the story of an elderly monk who was found praying fervently at the altar by one of the younger monks. And the younger one asked him, “What are you praying for?” “I’m praying for my grandfather.” “Well, certainly he is in heaven by now.” To which the older monk replied, “Ah yes, but it is the prayers I am saying now, the prayers I have said, and the prayers I will say that helped get him there.” Our prayers in union with Christ are always effective, and we can’t put limits on them.

But our prayers for the dead remind us also of our own need to prepare for death. I think a lot of people live their lives on earth doing the minimum requirements to get into heaven, as if they were shooting for purgatory. Certainly God is merciful, but my only worry about living this way is simple: What if you miss? The saints will be the first to tell you that we begin our heaven now, and this is the best time to begin the process of purification. For now, we can actively seek to purify ourselves, while in purgatory, we can only rely on the prayers of others. And the way we purify ourselves now is through growth in holiness. Through sincere repentance and penance for our sins, through prayer and sacrifice, through active works of charity for others, we grow in holiness and God’s grace purifies us as we use this life to prepare for eternal life.

And finally, another beautiful thing about praying for the dead is that it reminds us of what Jesus said, that God “is not the God of the dead but of the living, for to him all are alive.”

What a great consolation it is to know that we can still be united with those who have died. Knowing that they are with the Lord, whether enjoying eternal happiness or in the process of being purified, and that we can still talk to them, pray for them, and even make amends with them, if necessary, saying those things we didn’t get a chance to say… knowing that is a cause of great rejoicing. For one day, we will be united with them again, where there will be no more sin, no more sorrow, no more tears, and we will never be separated from each other by sin or death again. And, in that place we care called to, the Kingdom of Heaven, “Nothing will be able to separate us from the love of God that comes to us in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Lilies and Roses, Daisies and Violets

2010-11-01T12:50:00.000-04:00

Homily, All Saints Day
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr.

One of my favorite stories from St. Therese of Lisieux is when tells how she came to thinking of herself as a “little flower” in the garden of the Lord. She found herself pondering one day how it was that “God has his preferences”, seemingly favoring one person over another - giving one person extraordinary gifts, another only painful sufferings, and still others no visible gifts at all.

Well, she explains it this way: “Jesus has been gracious enough to teach me a lesson about this mystery, simply by holding up to my eyes the book of nature. I realized, then, that all the flowers he has made are beautiful - the rose in its glory [and] the lily in its whiteness do not rob the tiny violet of its sweet smell, or the daisy of its charming simplicity. I saw that if all these lesser blooms wanted to be roses instead, nature would lose the gaiety of her spring-tide dress - there would be no little flowers to make a pattern over the countryside.”

She goes on, “And so it is with the world of souls, which is [The Lord's] garden. He wanted to have great Saints, to be his lilies and roses, but he has made lesser Saints as well; and these lesser ones must be content to rank as daisies and violets, lying at his feet and giving pleasure to his eye like that.” And she concludes, “Perfection consists simply in doing his will, and being just what he wants us to be.”

Throughout the year, the Church honors all of the great Saints who have witnessed to Christ in so many ways over the centuries. We honor the martyrs, who gave their lives for Christ by being thrown to the lions or burned at the stake; we honor the doctors of the Church, who wrote great theological works with deep insight into the mystery of God; we honor the apostles and disciples who built the Church in its early days; and we honor countless heroic Saints known for their great works of charity or preaching, or their witness to poverty, chastity and obedience.

But today, on All Saints day, we honor all those Saints whom St. Therese may have called the “lesser Saints”, the little flowers – the lillies and daisies, those who have reached heaven by living lives of holiness in the midst of the ordinary. People who have lived in the midst of the world, confronting its daily challenges with joy, charity, love, and patience; the Saints who sought the will of God in their lives and then acted upon it, in whatever way he called, be it in the midst of the family, the workplace, a life of service to others, or a life of joyfully accepting the Crosses the Lord sends.

And by honoring them today, we recognize two things: first, that we are not separated from them, for we are united with them in Christ and we pray for them in the Mass, and they pray for us from heaven; and second, that the goal they have reached is our goal as well: eternal life in heaven.

La misma cuenta en español (Santa Teresita):

Durante mucho tiempo me he preguntado por qué tenía Dios preferencias, por qué no recibían todas las almas las gracias en igual medida. Me extrañaba verle prodigar favores extraordinarios a los santos que le habían ofendido, como san Pablo o san Agustín, a los que forzaba, por así decirlo, a recibir sus gracias; y cuando leía la vida de aquellos santos a los que el Señor quiso acariciar desde la cuna hasta el sepulcro, retirando de su camino todos los obstáculos que pudieran impedirles elevarse hacia él y previniendo a esas almas con tales favores que no pudiesen empañar el brillo inmaculado de su vestidura bautismal, me preguntaba por qué los pobres salvajes, por ejemplo, morían en tan gran número sin haber oído ni tan siquiera pronunciar el nombre de Dios...

Jesús ha querido darme luz acerca de este misterio. Puso ante mis ojos el libro de la naturaleza y comprendí que todas las flores que él ha creado son hermosas, y que el esplendor de la rosa y la blancura del lirio no le quitan a la humilde violeta su perfume ni a la margarita su encantadora sencillez... Comprendí que si todas las flores quisieran ser rosas, la naturaleza perdería su gala primaveral y los campos ya no se verían esmaltados de florecillas...

Eso mismo sucede en el mundo de las almas, que es el jardín de Jesús. El ha querido crear grandes santos, que pueden compararse a los lirios y a las rosas; pero ha creado también otros más pequeños, y éstos han de conformarse con ser margaritas o violetas destinadas a recrear los ojos de Dios cuando mira a sus pies. La perfección consiste en hacer su voluntad, en ser lo que él quiere que seamos...

The Battle of Prayer

2010-10-17T19:32:00.000-04:00

Homily, 29th Sunday, Ordinary Time, Cycle C
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., St. Joseph's, Dalton, Georgia

Here are some excerpts from the Catechism that I used in my sermon today on The Battle of Prayer. The Catechism is a great source for meditations. You can read the section directly from the Catechism of the Catholic Church in English here and en Español aquí.

ARTICLE 2 THE BATTLE OF PRAYER 2725 Prayer is both a gift of grace and a determined response on our part. It always presupposes effort. The great figures of prayer of the Old Covenant before Christ, as well as the Mother of God, the saints, and he himself, all teach us this: prayer is a battle. Against whom? Against ourselves and against the wiles of the tempter who does all he can to turn man away from prayer, away from union with God...

I. OBJECTIONS TO PRAYER 2726 In the battle of prayer, we must face in ourselves and around us erroneous notions of prayer. Some people view prayer as a simple psychological activity, others as an effort of concentration to reach a mental void. Still others reduce prayer to ritual words and postures. Many Christians unconsciously regard prayer as an occupation that is incompatible with all the other things they have to do: they "don't have the time." Those who seek God by prayer are quickly discouraged because they do not know that prayer comes also from the Holy Spirit and not from themselves alone.

2728 Finally, our battle has to confront what we experience as failure in prayer: discouragement during periods of dryness; sadness that, because we have "great possessions," we have not given all to the Lord; disappointment over not being heard according to our own will; wounded pride, stiffened by the indignity that is ours as sinners; our resistance to the idea that prayer is a free and unmerited gift; and so forth. The conclusion is always the same: what good does it do to pray? To overcome these obstacles, we must battle to gain humility, trust, and perseverance.

II. HUMBLE VIGILANCE OF HEART Facing difficulties in prayer 2729 The habitual difficulty in prayer is distraction... To set about hunting down distractions would be to fall into their trap, when all that is necessary is to turn back to our heart: for a distraction reveals to us what we are attached to, and this humble awareness before the Lord should awaken our preferential love for him and lead us resolutely to offer him our heart to be purified. Therein lies the battle, the choice of which master to serve.

2731 Another difficulty, especially for those who sincerely want to pray, is dryness. Dryness belongs to contemplative prayer when the heart is separated from God, with no taste for thoughts, memories, and feelings, even spiritual ones. This is the moment of sheer faith clinging faithfully to Jesus in his agony and in his tomb...

Facing temptations in prayer 2732 The most common yet most hidden temptation is our lack of faith. It expresses itself less by declared incredulity than by our actual preferences. When we begin to pray, a thousand labors or cares thought to be urgent vie for priority; once again, it is the moment of truth for the heart: what is its real love? Sometimes we turn to the Lord as a last resort, but do we really believe he is? Sometimes we enlist the Lord as an ally, but our heart remains presumptuous. In each case, our lack of faith reveals that we do not yet share in the disposition of a humble heart: "Apart from me, you can do nothing."

III. FILIAL TRUST 2734 Filial trust is tested - it proves itself - in tribulation. The principal difficulty concerns the prayer of petition, for oneself or for others in intercession. Some even stop praying because they think their petition is not heard. Here two questions should be asked: Why do we think our petition has not been heard? How is our prayer heard, how is it "efficacious"?

Why do we complain of not being heard? 2735 What is the image of God that motivates our prayer: an instrument to be used? or the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ?

2736 Are we convinced that "we do not know how to pray as we ought"? Are we asking God for "what is good for us"? Our Father knows what we need before we ask him, but he awaits our petition because the dignity of his children lies in their freedom. We must pray, then, with his Spirit of freedom, to be able truly to know what he wants.

2737 Do not be troubled if you do not immediately receive from God what you ask him; for he desires to do something even greater for you, while you cling to him in prayer. God wills that our desire should be exercised in prayer, that we may be able to receive what he is prepared to give.

IV. PERSERVERING IN LOVE 2742 [St. Paul] "Pray constantly... Pray at all times in the Spirit... it has been laid down that we are to pray without ceasing." This tireless fervor can come only from love. Against our dullness and laziness, the battle of prayer is that of humble, trusting, and persevering love. This love opens our hearts to three enlightening and life-giving facts of faith about prayer.

2743 It is always possible to pray: The time of the Christian is that of the risen Christ who is with us always, no matter what tempests may arise. Our time is in the hands of God: It is possible to offer fervent prayer even while walking in public or strolling alone, or seated in your shop, . . . while buying or selling, . . . or even while cooking.

2744 Prayer is a vital necessity. Proof from the contrary is no less convincing: if we do not allow the Spirit to lead us, we fall back into the slavery of sin. How can the Holy Spirit be our life if our heart is far from him? Nothing is equal to prayer; for what is impossible it makes possible, what is difficult, easy. . . . For it is impossible, utterly impossible, for the man who prays eagerly and invokes God ceaselessly ever to sin.

2745 Prayer and Christian life are inseparable, for they concern the same love and the same renunciation, proceeding from love; the same filial and loving conformity with the Father's plan of love; the same transforming union in the Holy Spirit who conforms us more and more to Christ Jesus; the same love for all men, the love with which Jesus has loved us. "Whatever you ask the Father in my name, he [will] give it to you. This I command you, to love one another."

2741 Jesus also prays for us - in our place and on our behalf. All our petitions were gathered up, once for all, in his cry on the Cross and, in his Resurrection, heard by the Father. This is why he never ceases to intercede for us with the Father. If our prayer is resolutely united with that of Jesus, in trust and boldness as children, we obtain all that we ask in his name, even more than any particular thing: the Holy Spirit himself, who contains all gifts.

Faith in the Future

2010-10-02T16:06:00.000-04:00

Respect Life Sunday, October 3rd, 2010, St. Joseph's, Dalton, GA
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr.

I've told you all that my little sister, Andrea, is on The Amazing Race this year. Well, here's her story, as told on the Internet.

From the Fletcher Armstrong blog: Life. What a Beautiful Choice.

I love this story about a mom (Andie DeKroon) who gave her daughter up for adoption. She was unmarried and 22 years old at the time. Later, God blessed her with 10 more children.

In 2008, University of Georgia student Jenna Sykes decided that she wanted to get in touch with her birth mom. Andie agreed, so they started writing letters. Now, Jenna is about the same age as Andie was back then. And they are competing together in the upcoming season of The Amazing Race on CBS!

Think of it. Andie could have said “that baby will ruin my life.” She did’t. She had faith in the future. She loved God’s creation more than her own convenience. And now God continues to bless her with riches beyond measure.

And Youtube:

Jenna telling her story.

And our own Georgia Bulletin has been following the drama.

Wish them luck!

I will not be a Saint by halves

2010-10-01T15:28:00.000-04:00

Quotes from The Story of a Soul on this Memorial in honor of Saint Therese of Lisieux, the Little Flower.

One day Léonie, thinking no doubt that she was too big to play with dolls, brought us a basket filled with clothes, pretty pieces of stuff, and other trifles on which her doll was laid: "Here, dears," she said, "choose whatever you like." Céline looked at it, and took a woollen ball. After thinking about it for a minute, I put out my hand saying: "I choose everything," and I carried off both doll and basket without more ado.

This childish incident was a forecast, so to speak, of my whole life. Later on, when the way of perfection was opened out before me, I realised that in order to become a Saint one must suffer much, always seek the most perfect path, and forget oneself. I also understood that there are many degrees of holiness, that each soul is free to respond to the calls of Our Lord, to do much or little for His Love--in a word, to choose amongst the sacrifices He asks. And then also, as in the days of my childhood, I cried out: "My God, I choose everything, I will not be a Saint by halves, I am not afraid of suffering for Thee, I only fear one thing, and that is to do my own will. Accept the offering of my will, for I choose all that Thou willest."

Cuenta de Santa Teresita en Historia de un Alma:

Un día, Leonia, creyéndose ya demasiado mayor para jugar a las muñecas, vino a nuestro encuentro con una cesta llena de vestiditos y de preciosos retazos para hacer más. Encima de todo venía acostada su muñeca. «Tomad, hermanitas -nos dijo-, escoged, os lo doy todo para vosotras». Celina alargó la mano y cogió un mazo de orlas de colores que le gustaba. Tras un momento de reflexión, yo alargué a mi vez la mano, diciendo: «¡Yo lo escojo todo!», y cogí la cesta sin más ceremonias. A los testigos de la escena la cosa les pereció muy justa, y ni a la misma Celina se le ocurrió quejarse (aunque la verdad es que juguetes no le faltaban, pues su padrino la colmaba de regalos, y Luisa encontraba la forma de agenciarle todo lo que deseaba).

Este insignificante episodio de mi infancia es el resumen de toda mi vida. Más tarde, cuando se ofreció ante mis ojos el horizonte de la perfección, comprendí que para ser santa había que sufrir mucho, buscar siempre lo más perfecto y olvidarse de sí misma. Comprendí que en la perfección había muchos grados, y que cada alma era libre de responder a las invitaciones del Señor y de hacer poco o mucho por él, en una palabra, de escoger entre los sacrificios que él nos pide. Entonces, como en los días de mi niñez, exclamé: «Dios mío, yo lo escojo todo. No quiero ser santa a medias, no me asusta sufrir por ti, sólo me asusta una cosa: conservar mi voluntad. Tómala, ¡pues "yo escojo todo" lo que tú quieres...!

Why be Catholic? What else is there?

2010-09-11T11:00:00.000-04:00

Homily for the 24th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr. (homily from the archives)

The late Southern writer, Walker Percy, was a good Louisianan and a convert to Catholicism who was frequently asked why he became a Catholic. And sometimes, he would reply with a smile by saying, “What else is there?” But usually he would reply very simply, “The reason I am a Catholic is that I believe that what the Catholic Church proposes is true.” (Signposts, p. 304)

But what does this mean then for other religions? Does this mean that those outside the Catholic faith or those who are not even Christian cannot be saved? In today’s Gospel, we see Jesus seeking out the one lost sheep to return him to the fold, and certainly the Lord desires that his Church be one and that all people come to know the truth.

To me, this is the beauty of Catholic teaching. Let’s look at first what the Catholic Church teaches about herself. (CCC 816) “The Second Vatican Council's Decree on Ecumenism explains: "For it is through Christ's Catholic Church alone, which is the universal help toward salvation, that the fullness of the means of salvation can be obtained. It was to the apostolic college alone, of which Peter is the head, that we believe that our Lord entrusted all the blessings of the New Covenant, in order to establish on earth the one Body of Christ into which all those should be fully incorporated who belong in any way to the People of God."”

As St. Paul said today, “the grace of our Lord has been granted me in overflowing measure, along with the faith and love which are in Christ Jesus.” In other words, this overflowing faith which St. Paul professed was the Catholic faith. And the Catholic Church was founded by Christ on Peter, to whom he gave the keys to the kingdom of heaven, and it has been sustained through the ages by the guidance of the Holy Spirit. This Church contains the “fullness of the means of salvation.” And what are those means? Primarily, they are the one faith we profess in our Creed, the one worship we celebrate at the altar, and the one shepherd, the Pope, who guides us as the successor of Peter (cf. CCC 815), the Holy Scriptures, the other sacraments, and the teaching of the Church on how to live a holy life of faith, hope and love in today’s world. Through these means, if we are faithful and live a life of Grace, we can attain salvation by God’s gift. Simply belonging to the Catholic Church doesn’t guarantee us salvation, but following her teachings and using the means that Christ has made available in the Church is indeed the doorway to salvation.

What about other Christian denominations or other religions? The Vatican Council taught, (CCC 819) “Furthermore, many elements of sanctification and of truth are found outside the visible confines of the Catholic Church: "the written Word of God; the life of grace; faith, hope, and charity, with the other interior gifts of the Holy Spirit, as well as visible elements." Christ's Spirit uses these Churches and ecclesial communities as means of salvation, whose power derives from the fullness of grace and truth that Christ has entrusted to the Catholic Church.”

In other words, the Church recognizes the good things to be found in other religions, indeed the things we share in common. All of that is a work of God and the Catholic Church affirms that. As the Second Vatican Council explained: with our Protestant friends, we share a common love of our Lord and the Holy Scriptures (cf. CCC 838). With our Jewish friends, who were the first to receive the Word of God and the Covenants, we share faith in the one God and a common expectation for the coming of (or return of) the Messiah (cf. CCC 839, 840). Even with Muslims, we share the faith of Abraham and adore the one God (cf. CCC 841). So for these people, if they are interested in the Catholic faith, we do not require them to renounce their faith, but instead to see the things that we share in common, and then show them how embracing the Catholic faith will bring them to the fullness of the means of salvation.

But what of those who have no faith whatsoever? Certainly America makes it very easy for one to live a totally secular life, seeing no need for God. For them, I think of what Saint Paul said today, “but because I did not know what I was doing in my unbelief, I have been treated mercifully.” The Church teaches this, (CCC 847) “Those who, through no fault of their own, do not know the Gospel of Christ or his Church, but who nevertheless seek God with a sincere heart, and, moved by grace, try in their actions to do his will as they know it through the dictates of their conscience - those too may achieve eternal salvation.” Salvation is a possibility for them, and God will judge them by how they have responded to his voice in their hearts.

Now, some may hear all this and wonder: then why bother sharing our faith, why bother becoming a Catholic, why bother evangelizing and spreading the Gospel of Christ? Why? Because Jesus said, “Who among you, if he has a hundred sheep and loses one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wasteland and follow the lost one till he finds it?” He also said (John 10:10), “I came so that they might have life and have it to the full.” In other words, while elements of truth and sanctification are indeed found outside the Catholic faith, Jesus wants all people to share in the fullness of the truth which can be found in the Catholic Church. He gave the Church these means so that we might have the fullness of life in him.

The Second Vatican Council explained it this way, (CCC 851) “Indeed, God "desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth"; that is, God wills the salvation of everyone through the knowledge of the truth. Salvation is found in the truth. Those who obey the prompting of the Spirit of truth are already on the way of salvation. But the Church, to whom this truth has been entrusted, must go out to meet their desire, so as to bring them the truth. Because she believes in God's universal plan of salvation, the Church must be missionary.” In other words, we must go out and meet those who are seeking and searching, we must go out and meet those who are lost and cannot find their way, we must go out and share our faith and invite them to its fullness. God has placed that desire in their heart, and we must go out and meet that desire to show them the fullness of the faith. Evangelization meets people where they are at with respect, and invites them to experience the fullness of their desires.

But what about fallen away Catholics? I’ve met many former Catholics who say that they did not know Christ until they met him in another denomination. Often times this happens if they were raised in a home where the faith wasn’t too important, or perhaps if they were harmed by someone in the Church. To them, we need to remind then that the Church is holy because Christ is holy, but her members are not always holy. We need to invite them back to see that Christ indeed is present in the Catholic Church, and that through forgiveness, reconciliation, and coming to understand the fullness of the Church’s teaching, they can discover that and meet him fully in the Church he founded.

If we believe that the Church contains the fullness of salvation as Christ taught, then we will not be afraid to share it or make it known. For indeed that is the desire of Jesus. He wants all his people to be united one day with him in his heavenly Kingdom, where there will be “much rejoicing and much joy before the angels of God.”

Here's a good website to begin your journey: Fullness of Truth. And a good bookstore.

Building the Kingdom of Heaven

2010-09-05T18:33:00.000-04:00

Homily 23rd Sunday Ordinary Time C (Partial)
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., St. Joseph's, Dalton

“Which of you wishing to construct a tower does not first sit down and calculate the cost to see if there is enough for its completion? Otherwise, after laying the foundation and finding himself unable to finish the work the onlookers should laugh at him and say, 'This one began to build but did not have the resources to finish.'”

Let's look at this parable from God’s perspective. God wanted to build a tower. The tower is the Kingdom of Heaven, which would bring about the Salvation of the people he loved, us, even though we had sinned. He sat down to calculate the cost, and while theologians say that there are many ways in which God could have saved us, he chose the most perfect way, the way that would show us the infinite depth of his love. He chose to become one of us. So, the Word was made Flesh, God became Man, Jesus Christ was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary. Jesus is the foundation, the cornerstone of the tower that is the Kingdom of Heaven. As St. Peter said, 1 Peter 2:4-7, “Come to Jesus, a living stone, rejected by human beings but chosen and precious in the sight of God.”

By becoming one of us, Jesus then shared with us his life and teaching, the path to salvation, the path to our place in the Kingdom of Heaven. But he wanted us to cooperate with him in building this tower, so he founded the Church, which would continue his mission to all peoples in all ages. St. Peter described it this way, “like living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. For it says in scripture: "Behold, I am laying a stone in Zion, a cornerstone, chosen and precious, and whoever believes in it shall not be put to shame."”

And God is not like the foolish builder in the parable, who did not plan well enough to complete the tower. So Jesus made a few promises to see that his plan would be fulfilled. First, he said, Matthew 16:18-19, “And so I say to you, you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it. I will give you the keys to the Kingdom of Heaven."” In doing this, he gave his Church authority and promised that even the gates of hell would not conquer it. How would this happen? He promised to send a helper, an Advocate, the Holy Spirit. In John’s Gospel he says, almost anticipating the tough journey that lay ahead for the Church, John 16:12-13, “I have much more to tell you, but you cannot bear it now. But when he comes, the Spirit of truth, he will guide you to all truth. He will not speak on his own, but he will speak what he hears, and will declare to you the things that are coming.” The Holy Spirit would be with the Church to guide it to all truth in the midst of the confusion and perplexity of the modern world. Finally, in his great commission at the end of Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus said, Matthew 28:18-20, “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.” He sent the Apostles out to continue building the Tower, the Kingdom of Heaven, and most importantly, he promised to be with us always, especially in the teachings of and sacraments of the Church.

Have You Been Saved?

2010-08-21T19:34:00.000-04:00

Homily, 21st Sunday Ordinary Time, Cycle C
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., St. Joseph's, Dalton, Georgia

Years ago, I was visiting an 80 year old man who had moved to Atlanta from the North over 50 years ago. At the time, he went to work for a bank and quickly made several friends. Well, one Monday morning his friends around the water cooler were discussing the previous day’s sermons at each of their churches (I guess it wasn't football season), and they asked him what church he was going to. When he said “Sacred Heart Catholic Church”, the conversation stopped, total silence. And one of his friends walked up to him, looked at him closely, his head and his back, and then said, “You know, you’re the first Catholic I’ve ever met, and until now, I’ve been taught to believe that Catholics had horns and tails.”

My father grew up in West Georgia as the only Catholic in his high school, and he told me similar stories. But, over the last 50 years things have gotten a little better for Catholics in the South. Now there are many more of us, and our Protestant friends have gotten to know us and seen that we’re reasonably normal. And that’s good, but I do occasionally hear of people who question our Catholic faith and wonder about us. In fact, I imagine that many of you may have been asked by a friend that all too familiar question, “Have you been saved?”

That seems to be an old question, since someone asked Jesus as in today’s Gospel a similar question, “Lord, are they few in number who are saved?” And Jesus then explains that one must “enter by the narrow door.” So, how do we enter this narrow door, how do Catholics answer the question, “Have you been saved?”

First we need to ask the question, “Saved from what?” To answer that, we need to go back to the Garden of Eden. In the garden, Adam and Eve walked and talked with God. They were friends of God and shared in his life. This friendship with God is what the Church has called sanctifying grace.

But, as the Scriptures tell us, they sinned and were expelled from the Garden. They were punished – he to sweat and toil over the earth, she to give birth in pain. But the worse punishment was that they were no longer able to walk and talk with God in the garden. They lost his friendship, and that was perhaps the most painful of all, having exchanged friendship with God for the lies of the devil, they exchanged the garden of paradise for dust.

So if we want to be saved, we must somehow be restored to friendship with God. How was this accomplished? We couldn’t do it on our own. Indeed, the history of salvation tells us that it could only be accomplished in one way: by God’s becoming one of us. Jesus said (John 15:13-15), “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one's friends.” By becoming one of us and laying down his life for us, Jesus showed us the greatest love that one can have for a friend, so in him, we are restored to friendship with God.

So what is our role in this? If we want to share in the salvation won by Christ on his Cross, we must become friends with Jesus. If we do not, then we will hear the dreadful words mentioned in the Gospel, “Away from me, I don’t know you.”

How do we become friends with Jesus? How do we get to know him? Our non-Catholic friends will sometimes say that this is a one-time act, that if you accept Jesus as your savior, then your salvation is assured, no matter what happens. We believe that that first step is essential, but also that salvation is a life-long process. Just as a friendship or relationship grows and deepens over time, so also our relationship with the Lord grows and deepens over time. And this is accomplished in many ways.

First and foremost, through prayer, intimate conversation with him. You get to know someone by talking with them. And a friend is someone you share everything with: your hopes and joys, your sorrows, hardships and disappointments, the big events of life, and the daily routine. And since Jesus is our Lord and God, we can also share with him those most intimate secrets of our hearts, knowing he will forgive our faults when we humbly acknowledge them, and that he will respond to the longings of our hearts if we but trust in him.

A friend is someone who is true to you, so we show our friendship to the Lord by being true to him, and this is done primarily in the keeping of his commandments. Jesus says several times in John’s Gospel (John 15:14), “You are my friends if you do what I command you.” (John 14:15), “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” (John 14:21), “Whoever has my commandments and observes them is the one who loves me. And whoever loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and reveal myself to him.” (John 15:10), “If you keep my commandments, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father's commandments and remain in his love.” He’s pretty clear about this one, which is why sin, the breaking of God’s commandments separates us from him and causes us to lose his friendship.

We can keep from sin and deepen our friendship with the Lord by practicing our faith. Because Jesus founded the Church on the apostles who have passed on the faith to us, he gave the Church what we call “the fullness of the means of salvation.” He promised that he would be with the Church till the end of time, that he would send the Holy Spirit to guide it to all truth, and that the gates of hell would not prevail against it. Because of this, we know that the teaching of the Church is reliable and true. If we follow these teachings, despite pressures from the world to conform to the spirit of the age, then we are indeed friends of Jesus.
In the Church, we especially meet our Lord in the Sacraments. In Baptism, we are cleansed of sin and united to his death and resurrection, and in Confession, he renews us continually. In Confirmation, we are given special gifts of the Holy Spirit by which we are to serve him. In Anointing of the Sick, he heals us, comforts us, and gives us strength. In the sacraments of Marriage and Holy Orders, we learn the true meaning of self-giving love in different ways. But most especially, we meet our Lord in the Eucharist, where we gather as a community of his friends to worship and he becomes food for our journey in this life, an intimate companion we receive in his Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity.

Finally, we become friends of Jesus by becoming friends with his people, especially those who are closest to his heart. (Matthew 25:40), “Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.”
As James says(James 2:23-24), “Abraham … was called the friend of God… a person is justified by works and not by faith alone.” So we show our friendship by our works, they are proofs of our love.

This friendship begins now, and continues into the next life. Heaven is Jesus. So Heaven begins now. If you honestly live your faith as a friend of Jesus, then you need have nothing to fear from death, for death will be simply the removing of the veil of faith that has kept us from seeing our Lord face-to-face. St. Paul says (1 Cor. 13:12-13), “At present we see indistinctly, as in a mirror, but then face to face. At present I know partially; then I shall know fully, as I am fully known. So faith, hope, love remain, these three; but the greatest of these is love.” Faith gives way to sight, hope gives way to possession. The essence of friendship is love, so that will remain in heaven.

So, next time you are asked, “Are you saved?” Remember what Jesus said, “I have called you friends, because I have told you everything I have heard from my Father.” Your reply should be, “Yes, indeed, I am a friend of Jesus.”

Our Daily Bread

2010-07-24T16:02:00.000-04:00

Homily, 17th Sunday Ordinary Time, C
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., St. Joseph's, Dalton, GA

I once heard a program on public radio that talked about various scientific experiments that sought to prove that prayer is truly effective. Apparently, over the years, many medical professionals have been interested in this question, setting up studies to see if sick people who are prayed for fare better than those who are not prayed for. Some of the studies have indeed shown that there does appear to be some relationship between prayer and patients getting well more quickly. But they’ve had trouble setting up truly scientific studies, because it’s hard to contain all the variables, especially in matters spiritual. One experiment, though, the scientists claimed proved that prayer was effective. In it, they got two test tubes filled with an identical amount of a growing bacteria and asked various prayer groups to pray for one and not the other. And each time, the one that was prayed for grew faster than the other.

Now, listening to this on the radio, I was fascinated, since my background is in science. But the priest in me said, wait a second. They’ve missed the whole point, indeed it makes you wonder if these scientists truly understand what prayer is. Prayer is not a power of the mind that causes things to happen in some sort of magical or paranormal way, and God is not some big source of impersonal energy that can be manipulated by our prayers and his response measured scientifically.

Instead, prayer is, as Jesus explains in the Gospel today, a conversation with a loving Father who cares about us, knows our needs, and wants to give us all that is good for us. If a reluctant and sleepy friend will give in to a persistent friend knocking at his door, how much more will the heavenly Father respond to you when you knock on his door. And, as Jesus says, “If you with all your sins, know how to give your children good things, how much more will the heavenly Father give to those who ask him.”

So Jesus defines prayer in terms of a loving relationship, as St. Therese of Lisieux would say, “For me, prayer is a surge of the heart; it is a simple look toward heaven, it is a cry of recognition and of love, embracing both trial and joy.” (CCC2258) And St. Teresa of Avil defines prayer this way, “in my opinion, it is nothing else than a close sharing between friends; it means taking time frequently to be alone with him who we know loves us.” (CCC2709)

Jesus says, “Ask and you shall receive…” but we’ve all experienced times when we’ve asked but not received. Why is this? Well, St. Augustine explains it this way: “Pray for temporal goods in private, and rest in the knowledge that they come to us from him who knows what is best for us. Did you ask and not get what you wanted? Trust in your Father. If it would have been good for you, you would have received it. Before God, you are much as a little child is before you. All day long, the child cries his eyes out so that you will give him a knife to play with. You wisely refuse his plea and pay no attention to his wailing… You deny him small things so as to preserve more important things.”

So God is generous, but he is also wise, knowing what is best for us. As the new catechism says, “Our Father knows what we need before we ask him, but he awaits our petition because the dignity of his children lies in their freedom. We must pray then, with his Spirit of freedom, to be able to truly know what he wants.” So, if we want our prayer to be effective, we first have to learn to trust him. Pope John Paul said that to learn who the Father is means learning what absolute trust is. And that’s why Jesus taught us the “Our Father.” It has been called the “summary of the whole Gospel” and the “most perfect of prayers.” (CCC 2774) And in it, we learn and show absolute trust in God. We praise him, praying for his kingdom and his will to be done on earth, trusting that his plan for us is for the good of all. We ask him to give us our daily bread, which is symbolic of all our necessities, trusting that he will give us what we truly need. We pray for his mercy, and we pray for protection from evil. In short, in this prayer, we place everything in his hands: our hopes, our needs, our very lives.

But second, if we want our prayers to be effective, we should attune our hearts to his. If God is indeed a loving Father and an intimate friend, then we should appeal to that which is closest to his heart, his mercy and compassion and love. And Abraham knew this in the first reading. When God had threatened to destroy the cities because of their sin, Abraham appealed to his love, his love for just a few just people in the city. God was willing to forgive thousands of sinners for the love of just a few. And we know from the Gospels that Jesus was this way as well. Frequently, he would see the crowds and be moved to pity for them.

The new catechism says that one who prays in intercession for others has a heart “especially attuned to God’s mercy.” (CCC 2365) And if we pray like Abraham, then our prayers will indeed be effective. St. Augustine said, “It is more meritorious to pray for someone else in their needs, than it is to pray for yourself.” And as Pope John Paul has said, this type of prayer is especially needed today, for there is a lot of injustice in today’s world: war, genocide, exploitation, racism, poverty caused by injustice and neglect. Perhaps if more of us pleaded with God like Abraham for mercy and compassion, then we would truly see God’s kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven.

I’m sure we can all think of examples of answered prayer, but I thought I would share with you one from our trip to Jamaica to work with the children with handicaps. The Mustard Seed Community we worked at has always been hanging on by a thread it seems. They’ve had some of their homes firebombed, been evicted from other places, and frequently have trouble getting just the basic necessities, like food and water. Well, one time, they were drastically low on food and were beginning to really worry. But Fr. Gregory, the founder, has taught these children with handicaps how to pray. Indeed, they get up at 5am each morning to pray the rosary and meditate, almost like a monastery. And it is a beautiful thing to see a child pray. So that day, Fr. Gregory asked the children to pray for food. And it turns out, that later that evening, a truck full of food came by, on its way to the Swiss ambassador’s residence for a gala reception for many of the diplomats in Kingston. Well, the truck driver was lost and accidentally pulled into the Mustard Seed Compound. And before he could react, the orphans jumped onto the truck and began unloading it with joy. By the time the truck driver figured out what was happening, the kids had taken 2/3rds of the food and were passing it around.

Well, as you can imagine, the Swiss Ambassador’s party was ruined, and Mustard Seed got an irate call from them the next morning, demanding restitution. Fr. Gregory simply said, by all means, we will do what we can, just come on by and we’ll work something out. Well, the ambassador’s wife came by, and it didn’t take her but 2 minutes with the children to see what had really happened. So instead of demanding restitution, she offered a 3 months supply of food, free, from the finest grocery in Kingston (kind of like our Publix).

So, you see, God does answer prayer, if we simply trust him, appeal to his mercy, and realize that he is a loving Father who knows our every need, for we are indeed, his beloved children.

Ora et Labora

2010-07-17T12:40:00.000-04:00

Homily, 15th Sunday Ordinary Time, C
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., St. Joseph's, Dalton, GA

“Martha, Martha, you are upset and anxious about many things; one thing only is required. Mary has chosen the better portion and she shall not be deprived of it.”

The Gospel today gives us a beautiful contrast between two types of people: on the one hand, the Martha’s of the world who are busy with all the worldly concerns that our Lord calls us to be occupied with - welcoming the stranger, feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, clothing the naked; and on the other hand, the Mary’s of the world, who are more contemplative, given to quiet reflection and the inner life of prayer.

Martha was busy with all the details of hospitality, Mary with resting at the Lord’s feet and listening to his words. Yet both these things are clearly good. God needs the Martha’s of the world as much as he needs the Mary’s of the world. Yet Jesus said that Mary had “chosen the better part.” Why is this? It’s not that Martha had chosen something bad, in fact, she was doing as our Lord had commanded, but it’s simply that Mary had chosen better. Why? Because what Mary chose will last forever. Martha’s work will come to an end. What she was doing would pass away, while Mary was anticipating the life to come, the goal to which we strive and to which all our work on earth is directed.

Martha was troubled with a myriad of details, Mary was delighting in her Lord. Martha was on the journey, Mary had reached the destination. Martha was on the pilgrimage, Mary was enjoying the Promised Land.

St. Augustine would put it this way, “Martha... when you have reached the Promised Land, will you find a stranger whom you may receive into your house? Will you find any hungry, for whom you may break your bread? Or the thirsty, to whom you may hold out your cup? The sick whom you may visit? The imprisoned whom you may set free? The dead whom you may bury? None of these will be there, but what will be there? What Mary has chosen. For there we shall be fed, and shall not feed others.” (Sermon 103, NPNF, v.6, p. 428)

On that day, what Mary had chosen was to have a foretaste of the life to come. She would have to go back to work soon enough, for our Lord was on his way to Jerusalem, where he would be lifted up on the Cross for our sins. Perhaps that’s why Mary chose to sit at our Lord’s feet that day. She knew that he would not be with them much longer. Yes, they would be reunited in Paradise one day, but in the meantime, she wanted a little rest and comfort listening to the Lord’s words - some strength for the long journey ahead. So our Lord was not so much rebuking Martha for her work, for indeed it was good, but he was reminding her of her final goal, her reason for the work.

So, what about us? In a sense, we are called to be both Martha and Mary. If we do not respond to the Lord’s call to serve our neighbor, then we will not receive the gift of eternal life. If we are so focused on heaven that we neglect the poor and needy, then we have missed the very point of heaven. But, if we do not take some time to spend with the Lord, we may lose sight of our heavenly destination. We may make the mistake of thinking we can build up treasure here and now, a heaven on earth through our own hands.

So, how do we do this? How can we be both Martha and Mary? One of the common problems we face today is the widespread belief that religion is something incompatible with daily life, as if we take our religion in small doses - an hour on Sundays, a few private prayers during the week, maybe a prayer or two before we go to bed. But, we must realize that God is always present, in the midst of everything that we do. So we must integrate our prayer and work and make our work holy, sanctifying ordinary things. We can encounter God in the midst of our daily work and by means of our daily work, not in spite of it.

To be like Mary, we must put aside some time each day to spend with the Lord in prayer. And how do we do this in the midst of this busy world? Well, it’s easier than you think. When I was working in Florida I discovered a neat little trick that did wonders for my spiritual life: I turned off the radio on the way to work, and that gave me a full half-hour every morning to pray. Too often we surround ourselves with noise to distract us - radio, Television, whatever.

To be like Martha, we have dedicate ourselves to our work, but do one additional thing. In the midst of our work and daily life, we must listen to the Lord and be aware of his presence. Perhaps the reason Jesus rebuked Martha was that she was so busy with all the details of hospitality that she forgot that Jesus was in the same room. Perhaps if she had just slowed down a bit, she would have been able to listen to Jesus or even speak to him, in the midst of her work. And we can do the same, for we are always in the presence of the Lord.

When I would drive to work in Florida, there was a little sign outside a church that I would pass everyday, and it said very simply, “God speaks to those who take the time to listen.”

Jesus said to Martha, “only one thing is required.” And that one thing is Jesus himself. If we are aware of his presence now and respond to his call, then we have chosen the better portion, and, in the life to come, we shall never be deprived of it.

El Buen Samaritano

2010-07-11T02:03:00.000-04:00

San Juan Crisóstomo dice con la boca del Señor:

"No te digo: arréglame mi vida y sácame de la miseria, entrégame tus bienes aun cuando yo me vea pobre por tu amor. Solo te imploro pan y vestido, y un poco de alivio para mi hambre. Estoy preso. No te ruego que me libres. Solo quiero que, por tu propio bien, me hagas una visita. Con eso me bastará y por eso te regalaré el Cielo. Yo te libré a ti de una prisión mil veces más dura. Pero me contento con que me vengas a ver de cuando en cuando.

Pudiera, es verdad, darte tu corona sin nada de esto, pero quiero estarte agradecido y que vengas después a recibir tu premio confiadamente. Por eso, yo, que puedo alimentarme por mí mismo, prefiero dar vueltas a tu alrededor, pidiendo, y extender mi mano a tu puerta. Mi amor llegó a tanto, que quiero que tú me alimentes. Por eso profiero, como amigo, tu mesa; de eso me glorío y te muestro ante todo el mundo como mi bienhechor."

(Homily on Romans, 15; cited in Hablar Con Dios, v. 4, p. 134)

The Good Samaritan

2010-07-10T18:57:00.001-04:00

Homily, 15th Sunday Ordinary Time, C
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., St. Joseph's, Dalton, GA

“Christ Jesus is the image of the invisible God.” Here, St. Paul is affirming the great truth that the Church has proclaimed through all the ages: that Jesus Christ is the God-man, fully human and fully divine. And it is very important to understand what this means, that we do not misinterpret it. He is not part God and part man, or some mixture of the two; he became truly man while remaining truly God (CCC 464). Vatican II's Gaudium et Spes explains (GS 38). “God's Word, through Whom all things were made, was Himself made flesh and dwelt on the earth of men. Thus He entered the world's history as a perfect man, taking that history up into Himself and summarizing it. He Himself revealed to us that "God is love" and at the same time taught us that the new command of love was the basic law of human perfection and hence of the worlds transformation.”

And the story of the Good Samaritan is a good illustration of how he is both divine and human. For in this story, Jesus Christ is both the Good Samaritan and the man who fell in with robbers, and we have a role to play as well.

In answer to the question, “Who is my neighbor?”, Jesus tells the story of the traveler going from Jerusalem to Jericho. Well, that road would have been familiar to his listeners, for it was notoriously dangerous at the time. And when Jesus said, “going down” this road, he wasn’t kidding, for in just 20 miles, the road dropped down 3600 feet, and was full of narrow, rocky crevices and sudden turns. In short, it was a happy hunting ground for robbers and thieves, who could hit their victims with ease and escape quickly back into the hills. The traveler in Jesus’ story had no one to blame but himself for traveling alone, with valuables to steal, on such a dangerous road. So the help offered by the Good Samaritan was indeed gratuitous, for the traveler had, in a sense, brought the trouble on himself.

And if we look at this story from the standpoint of Christ’s Divinity, then Jesus is the Good Samaritan. We were the ones who fell in with robbers through our own fault. We tried to travel on our own without God and fell because of sin. We were wounded by our sin, left dying by the side of the road with no way to save ourselves, but Jesus came down from heaven to earth to heal us, bind us up, nurse us back to health, and provide for our care.

But in another sense, in his humanity, Christ is also the man who fell in with robbers. For scripture tells us, (Isaiah 53:4-5) “it was our infirmities that he bore, our sufferings that he endured... he was pierced for our offenses, crushed for our sins... by his stripes we were healed”, (2 Cor. 8:9), “for our sake he became poor although he was rich”, (2 Cor. 5:21), and “for our sake he made him to be sin who did not know sin.”

So, in a special way, Jesus identifies with all those who suffer, for he took on our humanity so that he could raise up what was fallen, restore what was lost, and heal what was wounded.

And because Jesus identifies himself with the man who fell in with robbers, he calls us to be the Good Samaritan, to be like him and to respond with compassion and action to those in need. And at the last judgment, Jesus tells us that we will be judged on how we respond to that call, for he says (Mt. 25) “whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.... I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.”

St. John Chrysostom would reflect on these words of Jesus and have Jesus say to us: “I am not saying to you: solve all my problems for me, give me everything you have, even though I am poor for love of you. I only ask for some bread and clothes, some relief for my hunger. I am in prison. I do not ask you to free me. I only wish, that for your own good, you pay me a visit. That will be enough for me, and I in return will make you a gift of heaven. I have freed you from a prison a thousand times more harsh. But I am happy if you come and visit me from time to time.” (NPNF, v.11, p.458)

Throughout the history of the Church, people have responded to this call, to be the Good Samaritan who reaches out to Christ in the suffering and the poor.

If you ever have a chance to visit the Basilica Shrine of St. Elizabeth Ann Seton in Emmitsburg, Md., not too far from where I went to seminary, you will see two beautiful stained glass windows. One depicts what are called the Spiritual works of mercy, and the other depicts the Corporal works of mercy. They reflect the work that the Daughters of Charity, the order founded by St. Elizabeth, dedicate their lives to.

The Spiritual works of mercy are these: To convert the sinner; To instruct the ignorant; To counsel the doubtful; To comfort the sorrowful; To bear wrongs patiently; To forgive injuries; To pray for the living and the dead.

And the Corporal works of mercy are: To feed the hungry; To give drink to the thirsty; To clothe the naked; To shelter the homeless; To visit the sick; To visit the imprisoned; To bury the dead.

And in our day and age, there are so many opportunities to be involved with these works of mercy. In our everyday lives, we do the spiritual works by giving Christian witness, by teaching our children, by encouraging and supporting our friends, and by trying to be more virtuous people. And the opportunities for corporal works of mercy are even greater, for we can reach out to the homeless and needy, visit the lonely and abandoned, and pray for those who are sick.

Vatican II explains, (GS 38), “To those, therefore, who believe in divine love, [The Lord] gives assurance that the way of love lies open to men and that the effort to establish a universal brotherhood is not a hopeless one. He cautions them at the same time that this charity is not something to be reserved for important matters, but must be pursued chiefly in the ordinary circumstances of life.”

And I want to reiterate one point, that may be lost sometimes: the Good Samaritan responded to the needs of the man who fell in with robbers, even though this man was entirely at fault for not taking enough precautions when traveling a dangerous road. And we are called to do the same today, and respond with compassion and action even to those who have brought trouble on themselves. We are called to be like Christ who came to us even in the midst of our sin. St. Paul says, (Romans 5:8), “But God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us.” And if that is how God proves his love for us, then if we are to prove our love to him and inherit everlasting life, then we must do as Jesus tells us in today’s Gospel, “Go and do likewise.”

The Cost of Discipleship

2010-06-27T20:15:00.000-04:00

Homily, 13th Sunday of Ordinary Time, Cycle C
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr. (St. Joseph's, 6/26/2010)

In the Gospel today, our Lord reminds us of the cost of discipleship. On his last journey to Jerusalem, where he will take up his Cross and offer himself for our salvation, he encounters three men who could be disciples. While their motivations may have been good, our Lord wanted to help them understand exactly what discipleship means.

To the first, he says, “Foxes have dens and birds of the sky have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to rest his head.” Discipleship is costly. You will not find rest or security, but only hardship and the Cross.

The second, invited by Jesus personally, responds to the invitation with a condition, “Lord, let me go first and bury my father.” Caring for ones parents is a noble vocation, a fulfillment of the Fourth Commandment, “Honor your father and mother.” But perhaps this duty would take many years in which this potential disciple could revisit the opportunity Jesus is offering. The invitation was now, and trust was required. “Let the bed bury the dead. But you, go and proclaim the Kingdom of God.” The beautiful thing about saying “yes” now is that “all these things will be given you besides.” Following Christ doesn't mean abandoning one's obligations, but that God will supply for your needs. One of the first duties I had as a priest was to bury my Father, who died of cancer nine months after I was ordained. The Archbishop was kind enough to ordain me early so that my father could be present before his cancer made it difficult for him. And I was able to begin my ministry and care for my father together. His death was all the more beautiful because as a family, we were able to see it in the context of our vocations as disciples of Christ.

To the third, who wants to say goodbye to his family, Jesus says, “No one who sets a hand to the plow and looks to what was left behind is fit for the Kingdom of God.” Like the second, God will carry your family and loved ones along with you on the journey of discipleship. Like the farmer who begins plowing and cannot take his eyes off his goal, else the line will turn out crooked, you cannot divert your eyes from Christ. The disciple does not ask “what if?”, but “what now?” We have a goal that we can reach through faithfulness to our vocations.

One good example of the Cost of Discipleship in the modern era was a Lutheran pastor who wrote a book with that title. He not only wrote it, he lived it.

[The following story is redacted from several common stories summarizing Bonhoeffer's life, and much information is available on the Internet. Here is the book, The Cost of Discipleship, and here is an outline of Bonhoeffer's life.]

Dietrich Bonhoeffer was a pastor, theologian, and teacher. A German, he lived during the rise of Nazi Germany and saw the terrible tragedy that was approaching Europe. Interestingly, the pastor had safely escaped the troubles in Europe and gone to teach in New York in June, 1939. He abruptly returned less than a month later saying: “I have had time to think and to pray about my situation, and that of my nation, and to have God's will for me clarified. I have come to the conclusion that I have made a mistake in coming to America. I shall have no right to participate in the reconstruction of the Christian life in Germany after the war if I did not share in the trials of this time with my people. Christians in Germany face the terrible alternative of willing the defeat of their nation in order that civilization may survive, or willing the victory of their nation and thereby destroying civilization. I know which of these alternatives I must choose. But I cannot make that choice in security.”

On his return, pastor Bonhoeffer was involved in the German underground, or resistance to Hitler and the Nazis. He was condemned for his involvement in “Operation 7”, a rescue mission that had helped a small group of Jews over the German border and into Switzerland. The 39-year-old theologian had also been involved in planning an unsuccessful assassination attempt on the life of Adolf Hitler. His participation in the murder plot obviously conflicts with Bonhoeffer's position as a pacifist. His sister-in-law, Emmi Bonhoeffer, cited his reasoning. He told her: “If I see a madman driving a car into a group of innocent bystanders, then I can't, as a Christian, simply wait for the catastrophe and then comfort the wounded and bury the dead. I must try to wrestle the steering wheel out of the hands of the driver.” His vocation called him to action.

Bonhoeffer, even while in prison, maintained his pastoral role. Those who were with him spoke of the guidance and spiritual inspiration he gave not only to fellow inmates but to prison guards as well. He didn't look back, but remained faithful to his vocation. In a letter smuggled out of prison Bonhoeffer showed no bitterness but rather explained how, “We in the resistance have learned to see the great events of world history from below, from the perspective of the excluded, the ill treated, the powerless, the oppressed and despised... so that personal suffering has become a more useful key for understanding the world than personal happiness.”

Bonhoeffer went calmly to his death. The morning as he was led out of his cell, he was observed by the prison doctor who said: “Through the half-open door I saw Pastor Bonhoeffer still in his prison clothes, kneeling in fervent prayer to the Lord his God. The devotion and evident conviction of being heard that I saw in the prayer of this intensely captivating man moved me to the depths.”

In his book, The Cost of Discipleship, pastor Bonhoeffer coins a term that is used commonly in the Christian world today as a wake-up call to authentic discipleship, he calls it “Cheap Grace” versus “Costly Grace.”

He explains it this way, “Cheap grace is the deadly enemy of our church. We are fighting today for costly grace. Cheap grace means grace sold on the market … Cheap grace means the justification of sin without the justification of the sinner... [In other words, excusing sin but not recognizing the Gospel's transformative power.] Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, Communion without confession, absolution without personal confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate.”

He definies Costly rgace this way, “Costly grace is the treasure hidden in the field; for the sake of it a man’ will gladly go and self all that he has. It is the pearl of great price to buy which the merchant will sell all his goods. It is the kingly rule of Christ, for whose sake a man will pluck out the eye which causes him to stumble, it is the call of Jesus Christ at which the disciple leaves his nets and follows him.”

“Costly grace is the gospel which must be sought again and again and again, the gift which must be asked for, the door at which a man must knock. Such grace is costly because it calls us to follow, and it is grace because it calls us to follow Jesus Christ. It is costly because it costs a man his life, and it is grace because it gives a man the only true life. It is costly because it condemns sin, and grace because it justifies [makes new] the sinner. Above all, it is costly because it cost God the life of his Son: “you were bought at a price,” and what has cost God much cannot be cheap for us. Above all, it is grace because God did not reckon his Son too dear a price to pay for our life, but delivered him up for us. Costly grace is the Incarnation of God.”

Those words are particularly important: “God did not reckon his Son too dear a price to pay for our life...” Echoing St. John, pastor Bonhoeffer reminds us that God loves each of us individually and uniquely, beyond measure. So much so that he gave his only Son for our sakes, so that we might share in the “only true life” that Christ came to give us.

He concludes, “Costly grace is the sanctuary of God; it has to be protected from the world, and not thrown to the dogs. It is therefore the living word, the Word of God, which he speaks as it pleases him. Costly grace confronts us as a gracious call to follow Jesus. It comes as a word of forgiveness to the broken spirit and the contrite heart. Grace is costly because it compels a man to submit to the yoke of Christ and follow him; it is grace because Jesus says: 'My yoke is easy and my burden is light.'”

The invitation to live our vocation is given by Christ, “Follow me” and explained simply by St. Paul, “the whole law is fulfilled in one statement, namely, 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.'” This love is costly. As true disciples, we respond with our whole hearts, embracing God's will for our lives, and going forth to “proclaim the Kingdom of God” in today's world.

Father's Day and St. Joseph

2010-06-20T11:25:00.000-04:00

Father's Day Meditation
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr.

In our lives, we often find that God does the unexpected, and when he does so, wonderful things happen. On this Father's Day, I thought it would be good to look at St. Joseph as model for husbands and fathers and how God works in our lives.

The first thing to note about St. Joseph is his dilemma. God not only does the unexpected, but he puts Joseph in a tough situation. His wife was pregnant, and he did not yet know that she had conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit after the annunciation by Gabriel. Yet certainly he could not believe that she could have done something wrong. So how does he handle his dilemma? Since he is an “upright man, unwilling to expose her to the law”, he chooses to divorce her quietly because that will cause her the least harm. He was not interested in what would benefit him the most, but instead, he thought only of what was best for her. In fact, the shame would have fallen on him, because he would have been seen as a deadbeat who abandoned his fiancé. He was not only a just man, but he was a charitable man, willing to make sacrifices for the sake of others, and to give of himself.

Perhaps God was testing him, to see if he was worthy to be the foster father of Jesus, to see if he would have the qualities necessary to be a father to the Savior. But finally, the Lord sends an angel to tell him the rest of the story, to tell him what he must do. And that is the next thing to note about St. Joseph: when he awoke, the scriptures say, “he did as the angel of the Lord had directed him.” He did not question the Lord’s will; he did not second-guess what he had been told; he simply submitted himself to God’s will and went about his duty as he was told.

Again, God had acted in an unexpected way, and for St. Joseph, that meant that his life from that moment onwards was radically changed. Through the tradition of the Church, in the writings of the saints, and in a lot of Christian art, St. Joseph is pictured as an old man. Since he was the guardian and protector of Mary’s virginity, many in the church, in their excess of piety, thought that he must certainly be an old man. But, this attitude, this image, as Fulton Sheen once said, “betrays a lack of confidence in the ability of young people to live chaste lives, as if the condition for living holy purity is that one be old.” So isn’t it much more beautiful to picture St. Joseph as a young man who immediately said “yes” to God when he called. St. Joseph was a chaste man. Not all husbands are called to live perfect continence within marriage as he did, but all husbands are called to live and act chastely, not treating their wives or other women as objects, but instead treating them with respect and dignity.

And I do not find it too hard to believe that he would so joyfully accept God’s will for his life for he was already a just man who knew the joys of keeping the commandments and loving God and our neighbor as himself. After all, he was being called to participate in the greatest wonder in human history - the birth of the God-man, Immanuel, God is with us; he was being called to be the guardian and protector of this divine child, and he had the privilege to be the husband of the most marvelous woman who has ever existed, Mary.

And to top it all off, St. Joseph, at the command of the angel, had the privilege of giving that child the name of Jesus, “he who saves his people from their sins”, the name above every other name, the name at which every knee should bend, in the heavens and on the earth, the name that every tongue must confess as Lord.

There is a beautiful prayer in the tradition of the Church asking for St. Joseph's intercession:

O blessed Joseph, happy man whose privilege it was,
not only to see and hear that God
whom many a king has longed to see, yet saw not,
longed to hear, yet heard not;
but also to carry him in your arms and kiss him,
to clothe him and watch over him!
Pray for us, Blessed Joseph.

All the Rest of Life is Expendable

2010-06-05T16:22:00.001-04:00

Homily Corpus Christi, C
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr. St. Joseph's, Dalton, GA

I’m sure most of you are familiar with Flannery O'Connor, well-known Southern author, a native of Milledgeville Georgia, and a Catholic who belonged to the parish there. In one of her letters, she recalls a visit she made to another well-known author, who had been raised Catholic, but no longer believed. Flannery's friend said that "when she was a child and received the Host [the Blessed Sacrament], she thought of it as the Holy Ghost, he being the 'most portable' Person of the Trinity; now, she thought of it as a symbol and implied that it was a pretty good one." In the letter, Flannery tells us her response: "I then said, in a very shaky voice, 'Well, if it's a symbol, to hell with it!' [She goes on...] That was all the defense I was capable of, but I realize now that this is all I ever will be able to say about it, outside of a story, except that it [the eucharist] is the center of existence for me; all the rest of life is expendable."

When I look at the world today, it becomes pretty obvious that Jesus is the center of existence for fewer and fewer people. We have placed so many other things at the center of our lives: money, pleasure, politics, power. Sure, Jesus is a part of some people’s lives, perhaps as an example, a teacher, a friend we turn to as a last resort. Yes, he is all those things, but it seems as if he is no longer the whole, the center, the reason for existence.

And Christ is present to us in so many different ways. According to the teaching of the Church, he is present to us in the Word, especially the Gospel when it is read and proclaimed. He is present to us when “two or three gather” in his name, which is especially true when we gather to worship together in sacrifice of the Mass. He is present to us in the Church itself, which is his Mystical Body, in its people, ministers and authority. He is present in the sacraments, when he heals us, forgives our sins, and gives us grace for our various states in life. We know all of that, if only we would live it.

But there is another presence which I would like to talk about. Jesus said, “(Matthew 25:40) whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.” So, in a special way, the Church has always taught, Jesus is present among us in the poor, the sick, the imprisoned, the lonely, the suffering, those in need.

Mother Teresa illustrates this well with a story she would tell a lot. She begins the story this way, “I remember one of our Sisters, who had just graduated from the university. She came from a well-to-do family that lived outside of India. [she was assigned on her first day] to the Home for Dying Destitutes in Calcutta. Before this Sister went, I told her, ‘You saw the priest during Mass, with what love, with what delicate care he touched the body of Christ [in the Eucharist]. Make sure you do the same thing when you get to the home, because Jesus is there in a distressing disguise.’ So she went, and after three hours, she came back. That girl from the university, who had seen and understood so many things, came to my room with such a beautiful smile on her face. She said, ‘For three hours I’ve been touching the body of Christ!’ And [Mother Teresa] said, ‘What did you do? What happened?’ She said, ‘They brought a man from the street who had fallen into a drain and had been there for some time. He was covered with maggots and dirt and wounds. And though I found it difficult, I cleaned him, and I knew I was touching the body of Christ!’ [Mother Teresa goes on] She knew! Do we know? Do we recognize Jesus under the appearance of bread [in the Eucharist]? If we recognize him under the appearance of bread, we will have no difficulty recognizing him in the disguise of the suffering poor, and the suffering in our family, in our own community.”

And that is the final, most perfect, and fullest way in which Christ is present to us. In the Eucharist. For “in the most blessed sacrament of the Eucharist, the body and blood, together with the soul and divinity, of our Lord Jesus Christ and therefore, the whole Christ is truly, really, and substantially contained.” (CCC 1374)

And that truth is what has guided, inspired, and given life to the Church. Throughout the ages, saints and the faithful would attest to this great mystery.

St. Paul would recall the institution of this great sacrament, when Jesus said, “This is my body, which is for you. This cup is the new covenant in my blood.” For Jesus desired to give us a memorial of his death, so that we could always have access to him and this great mystery.

And Vatican II would say this about the institution of the Eucharist, “At the Last Supper, on the night he was betrayed, our Savior instituted the Eucharistic sacrifice of his Body and Blood. This he did in order to perpetuate the sacrifice of the Cross throughout the ages until he should come again, and so to entrust to his beloved Spouse, the Church, a memorial of his death and resurrection: a sacrament of love, a sign of unity, a bond of charity, a Paschal banquet in which Christ s consumed, the mind is filled with grace, and a pledge of future glory is given to us.” (SC 47)

Because of this, Vatican II would call the Eucharist “the source and summit of Christian life.” (LG 11)

And our very own Flannery O’Connor would call the Eucharist the “center of her existence.” And if we want to do the same, to make Jesus in the Eucharist the center of our existence, then we need to recognize his presence in the Blessed Sacrament, and from there we can see his presence in the Word, when we gather for prayer and worship, in the sacraments, the Mass, the Church, and in the poor and needy. Ultimately, we need only follow the advice of Mother Teresa, “If we recognize him under the appearance of bread, we will have no difficulty recognizing him in the disguise of the suffering poor, and the suffering in our family, in our own community.”

And if we can recognize him in the Eucharist, then perhaps it would be easy to make him the center of our existence. If he is, then perhaps we will have some small affect on the world around us. Is Jesus in the Eucharist the center of your life? Come and receive him today at communion and give him the answer. Come and receive the real body and blood, soul and divinity of our Lord. Come and adore him in the tabernacle and on the altar and see the one who befriends us, refreshes us, defends us, and gives us life eternal - our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

The Holy Trinity

2010-05-29T14:33:00.000-04:00

Homily Trinity C
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr., St. Joseph's, Dalton, GA

There was a story in Catholic newspapers years ago, about a priest who was reprimanded by the Church for performing invalid baptisms. Apparently, for several years, he had been baptizing infants in the name of the Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier, rather than in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, as Jesus commanded us to do at the end of Matthew’s Gospel. I guess he thought he was being modern and progressive, but once this was discovered, the Church had to send a letter to hundreds of families explaining to them that their children had not received a proper baptism.

Why is this wrong? Why make such a big deal? After all, it is true that the Holy Trinity creates, redeems, and sanctifies. In fact, that neatly sums up the work of the Holy Trinity for our salvation. I even have priest friends who, I guess in an effort to be avant-garde, like to begin Mass in the name of the Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier. But what this fails to do is uphold two truths of our faith that have been revealed to us. First, that God is personal, he is one God in three persons, and second, how these persons of the Trinity are differentiated from each other, how they are related.

If you try to describe the Trinity as simply Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier, then you run the risk of falling into any number of religions that teach that God is an impersonal an force, that he is simply the divine mover. Many of the founders of our country had this view: in its extreme form, it was called Deism, where God is like a watchmaker, who created the universe, made it perfect, and then just let it run on its own, having no further involvement in his creation.

But, by the Incarnation of Jesus Christ, we know that God is personal, and he cares intimately about his creation. So much so, that, as St. Paul says, (Romans 5:8), “But God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us.” And St. Paul would go even further than that and say (Galatians 2:20), “I live by faith in the Son of God who has loved me and given himself up for me.” Christ on the cross gave his life for each one of us, individually, uniquely, and personally.

And so, by revealing the Holy Trinity to us as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, Jesus teaches us that God is a personal reality that we can have a relationship with. And that’s the second truth that has been revealed to us. As Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, God is a community of related persons, a family.

And we are created in God’s image and likeness, so we also define ourselves by our relations. Each one of us is the son or daughter of a mother and father, and we might also be gifted to have brothers and sisters or be parents ourselves. We sometimes define ourselves by what we do – doctor, lawyer, teacher, carpenter, accountant – but these often change, and they don’t describe us totally. But our relations with others define what we are, in our essence. And this happens spiritually as well, its more than mere biology, like adoption, where adopted sons and daughters truly call their parents mother and father, and I like to think that being a priest is more than what I do, but what I am, and that when people call me Father, it is more than just a title.

So, the new catechism says of the Holy Trinity, CCC 254, “The real distinction of the persons from one another resides solely in the relationships which relate them to one another.” And then it quotes the Lateran Council, “It is the Father who generates, the Son who is begotten, the Holy Spirit who proceeds (from both).”

This is the community of the Trinity, the family of the Trinity. And if we are created in God’s image and likeness, then our human family is also an image of the Trinity. When explaining the persons of the Holy Trinity, the Fathers of the Church liked to say that the Father so loved the Son, and the Son so loved the Father, that the result of their mutual love, the personification of their love, is the Holy Spirit. That’s why St. Paul can say in today’s second reading, (Romans 5:5), “the love of God has been poured out into our hearts through the holy Spirit that has been given to us.” In an analogous way, the human family reflects this image of the Trinity. The love of the spouses for each other is so great that their love is personified in their children.

But as we all know, human families are not always perfect. Because of original sin and our own personal sin, we often harm our relationships with others. Not just within our own families, but also within the community at large and even the community of nations, there is a lot of harm because of sin and selfishness. And it seems that no matter how hard we try, the damage often seems beyond repair.

But since God is not this impersonal watchmaker God who cares nothing for his creation, he decided to fix it, and there was only one way he could do it: adopt us into his family. As St. Paul says, “All who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. You did not receive the spirit of slavery, but a spirit of adoption through which we cry out Abba, Father. And if we are children, we are heirs as well, heirs with God, heirs with Christ.”

And this great truth – that by our baptism we are children of God, sons and daughters of a loving Father, brothers and sisters of Christ and in Christ through his Church, filled with the love of the Holy Spirit – should fill us with a sense of wonder, and we can say with the Psalm today, “What is man that you should be mindful of him, or the son of man that you should care for him? You have made him little less than the angels and crowned him with glory and honor.” For as St. Paul says, we have been called to a great hope, a place which the Lord has prepared for those who love him, our heavenly home, where we will be united forever with the greatest family there ever was or will be, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

In just a few minutes, Lord, I'm going to get out of bed...

2010-05-23T00:04:00.000-04:00

Homily, Pentecost C
Fr. Paul D. Williams, Jr.

A parishioner once gave me a prayer that had a ring of truth to it that I thought would be very appropriate for Pentecost.

It goes like this: "Dear Lord, So far today, I've done alright. I haven't gossiped, haven't lost my temper, haven't been greedy, grumpy, nasty, selfish, or over-indulgent. I'm very thanful for that. But in just a few minutes, Lord, I'm going to get out of bed. And from then on, I'm going to need a lot more help."

That's very true, isn't it? Well, of course, the help we need, the help the Lord promises, is given to us by the Holy Spirit.

St. Augustine said, "What the soul is to the body, the Holy Spirit is to the Body of Christ, which is the Church." (CCC797) So, the Holy Spirit helps us in many ways. He dwells in us through Baptism, he works in all the sacraments which give growth and healing to the Body of Christ. He gives each person a gift or ministry to perform to help build up the Body of Christ, as St. Paul says.

But what I want to talk about today are what have been traditionally called the Seven Gifts of the Holy Spirit. I'm sure we all learned the names of the seven gifts when we were young, most likely when we prepared for Confirmation. They are: Wisdom, Understanding, Counsel, Fortitude, Knowledge, Piety, Fear of the Lord.

But, do we know what each of these gifts mean? Each gift has a specific purpose to help us on this earthly journey to our heavenly destination.

The spiritual writers have always used the image comparing the Gifts of the Holy Spirit to sails on a ship. Just as sails prepare a ship to respond to the wind, so the seven gifts prepare us to be open, docile and obedient to the promptings of the Holy Spirit. In this way, the saints are like great sailing vessels under full sail, properly responding to the different movements of the wind. Our Lord used this image himself when he said, (John 3:8), "The wind blows where it wills, and you can hear the sound it makes, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes; so it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit."

But the gifts come in different degrees, with Fear of the Lord at the beginning, and Wisdom as the crown. (see Garrigou-Lagrange, bk2p226ff, and bk1p66ff)

So the first gift is that of Fear of the Lord. Now this is not a worldly fear, or a servile fear related to fear of being punished. But instead, it is a filial fear, that of a child to a parent. It is a fear of sin, not because of sin's punishments, but a fear of offending the Lord, who is so deserving of our love, like we say in the act of contrition. This is why the psalm (110:10) says, the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. It turns us from evil and points us towards good.

The second gift is the gift of Piety, which inspires in us love for God, for our Savior Jesus Christ, and for our Blessed Mother and the saints. It makes us fervent in our religious practices, helps us to seek spiritual things, and frees us from undue attachment to worldly things. As St. Paul says, "The Spirit too helps us in our weakness, for we do not know how to pray as we ought; but the Spirit himself makes intercession for us with groanings which can not be expressed in speech."

The next gift is the gift of Knowledge. On the one hand, human knowledge is good, and is a gift from the Lord. All areas of knowledge can be good: the arts, humanities, sciences, and medicine. But they can also be misused. So, the gift of knowledge from the Holy Spirit helps us to rightly judge human things, so that we use them for the love of God and neighbor and not misuse them from selfish or prideful behavior. It also gives us true knowledge of good and evil, that we love what is right, and detest what is wrong.

Above knowledge comes the gift of Fortitude. And this is a higher gift simply because knowing what is good and evil is not good enough, we have to have the strength of will to choose what is good and avoid what is evil. We need the gift of fortitude to help us in our battle with the three-fold source of sin: the world, the flesh, and the devil.

After knowledge comes the gift of Counsel. Our Lord said that we needed to be as simple as doves and wise as serpents. In serving the Lord, sometimes we are called to be meek, humble, and patient, but other times we need to be firm, bold, and strong. How do we know which? Well, the gift of counsel strengthens our prudence, so that we can know harmonize these different virtues.

Next comes the gift of Understanding, which helps us to penetrate the mysteries of our faith, of our salvation. It's one thing to believe what we have been told by a trustworthy authority, it's quite another to understand it and want to live it. It's one thing to memorize formulas and repeat them, it's quite another to savour and taste them. And that's what this gift does: it gives us not an intellectual understanding of our faith, but it helps us to understand the truths of our faith with our hearts. So even the simplest of souls can have this gift. I think the best example is St. Therese of Lisieux, who lived a simple life as a nun, and wrote only one book, "The Story of a Soul", yet she is a doctor of the faith because of her deep insights into the reality of our faith and how to live it out with a profound love.

The final gift, the crown of all the gifts, is Wisdom, which helps us to view all things in relation to God, who is our source and destination, our beginning and our last end, the Alpha and the Omega. It especially helps us to understand the central mystery of our faith: the Lord's death and resurrection, and how the Cross fits into our everyday life. It helps us to see the Lord present in all things, so that we know the truth of what Jesus said, (Matthew 25:40), "Amen, I say to you, what you did for the least of my brethren, you did for me."

How do we prepare ourselves to receive these gifts? Very simple: first, follow the will of God as it is known in the commandments and in the teaching of the Church; second, actively seek to do good, performing acts of charity; and finally, like I said at the beginning, ask for his help, and pray frequently and fervently. And a good place to start is from the sequence today, "Come Holy Spirit, come! And from your celestial home shed a ray of light divine!"

How do we judge our progress, how do we know we have these gifts? Again, simply look for the fruits. And the Fruits of the Holy Spirit, as we learned in our catechism (CCC1832), are twelvefold: Charity, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, generosity, gentleness, fidelity, modesty, self-control, and chastity. These are, what the new catechism calls, the "first fruits of glory."

So, as one of the spiritual writers says, "Let us be like ships with our sails, not furled, but fully spread, so that we might be reponsive to the promptings of the Holy Spirit, so that he might lead us through the storms and troubled waters of this world into that everlasting port, our heavenly home, which the Lord has prepared for those who love him."