Our Commitments

our-commitmentsSeveral weeks ago I wrote: I believe we are called to live out the deepest meaning of faith, gratitude, and belonging: “And whatever you do, in word or in deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.” (Colossians 3:17)

This past weekend we asked for your commitment. And not just to parish ministry, but “whatever you do.” And more than 300 of you responded, bringing forward your commitment and receiving a blessing that, with God’s grace, the commitment will come to fruition. Continue reading

All Souls: bless their hearts

Part of the blessing being a parish priest is that you are invited into some of the most intimate moments of a family’s life. There is perhaps none more intimate and intense than the moments when illness passes through uncertain diagnosis, to one which blurs into the final days of a life. It is part of a life of ministry to be into a family whose loved one’s days are numbered. It is a privilege to journey with the family are they prepare for the loss that surely and steadily this way comes. In those times, Hope can seem more tentative, more distant; perhaps hovering on the edge of disappointment. Continue reading

Forming a moral conscience

conscience-aheadIt is a common refrain: the “Vatican” and “bishops” are out of touch with the people of the United States. It rises to the surface whenever the bishops, in their role as teachers of the faith, offer moral guidance – and every four years in our presidential election cycle. Such proclamations often include some veiled reference to Catholics being required to have slavish adherence to every pronouncement. Actually the Church’s position is quite surprising to the “experts” and Catholic alike. I believe the Church’s position on the formation of a moral conscience is one of the better kept secrets of Catholic life. Continue reading

And what ever you do…

in-jesus-nameIn writing these columns over the last several years, it seems to me that several themes are recurring, namely: belonging and gratitude. I think we assume people who are faithful then display a sense of belonging and gratefulness, but it is actually a bit the other way around. People who find an abiding sense of belonging to a worshipping community become people of faith. Similarly, people who intentionally practice gratitude, become more faithful. Continue reading

A determined commitment

GratitudeI am often given to repeating St. Bonaventure’s wise council: humility is the guardian and gateway to all the other virtues…and the first evidence of it is gratitude. We can all have moments in which we are profoundly grateful, but are we grateful people? The first is a description of a moment in time, deeply remembered; the second is an intrinsic condition of who you are as a person. It is at the root of your being, it is the lens through which you see the world, and it is the mode by which you engage the world. Even as I write that last sentence, I am thinking, “Gosh, I want to be that person!” Continue reading

The Feast of St. Francis

francis-in-stained-glassIn a 13th century text called the Il Foretti (The Little Flowers), a story is told about St. Francis in which a brother friar came to him and asked, “Why after you? Why is the whole world coming after you, wanting to see you, to hear you, to follow you?” Some 800 years after the life of St. Francis, this question remains. What is it about this unpretentious figure from the early 13th century which continues to exert such a perennial fascination for Catholics and non-Catholics, believers and agnostics alike? What is it that has made Francis the subject of more books than any other saint? Why has he inspired artists, led ecologists, peace activists, and advocates for the poor to claim him as a patron? Why has he inspired countless tens of thousands of men and women to follow his Rule of Life in religious and secular communities? Continue reading

Life in Prayer

power-of-prayerIt’s hard to sustain a regular life of prayer.  Why?  Why is it so difficult to pray regularly? Some reasons are obvious: over-busyness, tiredness, and too many demands on our time, constant distraction, spiritual laziness, worship services that bore us, and methods of prayer that leave us flat and inattentive.

But there is another reason too, suggested by monks and mystics.  The problem we have in sustaining prayer, they say, is often grounded in the false notion that prayer needs to be interesting, exciting, intense, and full of energy all the time, but that is impossible.  Nothing is meant to be exciting all the time, including prayer and church services, and nobody has the energy to always be alert, attentive, intense, and actively engaged all the time.

Sometimes we don’t pray regularly precisely because we simply cannot find within ourselves the energy, time, intensity, and appetite for active participation that we think prayer is demanding of us.  But prayer respects the natural rhythms of our energy.  Praying is like eating.  You don’t always want a banquet – sometimes we just want a quick sandwich by ourselves.

Eating has a natural rhythm:  banquets and quick snacks, rich meals and simple sandwiches, high times with linen serviettes and low times with paper napkins; meals which take a whole evening, and meals which you eat on the run.  And the two depend upon each other:  You can only have high season if you mostly have ordinary time.

Healthy eating habits respect our natural rhythms:  our time, energy, tiredness, the season, the hour, our boredom, our taste.  Prayer should be the same, but too often we are left with the impression that all prayer should be this wonderful moment sensing the presence of God.  And when it is not, we wonder about our faith, our prayer, or if God is listening.

Monks have secrets worth knowing.  They know that it is the rhythm, routine, and established ritual of prayer that is key.  For monks, the key to sustaining a daily life of prayer is not so much variety, novelty, and the call for higher energy, but rather a reliance on the expected, the familiar, the repetitious, the ritual, the clearly defined.  They know that what’s needed is a clearly delineated prayer form which gives you a clear time expectation and does not demand of us an energy that we cannot muster on a given day. What clear, simple, and brief rituals provide is precisely prayer that depends upon something beyond our own energy.  The rituals carry us, our tiredness, our lack of energy, our inattentiveness, and our indifference.  They keep us praying even when we are too tired to muster up our own energy.

The rhythm, routine, and established ritual of prayer can sustain our love for God and our neighbor – even if we don’t have the energy for it.

Finding What’s Lost

sunglassesLast weekend, as part of the “Be-Cool Campaign,” I incorporated a set of sunglasses into my appeal. I have to admit that I haven’t bought sunglasses in all my years here at Sacred Heart.  Given that sunglasses are a de facto part of life here in Florida, this means that I am either very careful about taking care of my sunglasses or that I am a pastor of a Florida church.  The parish Lost and Found box always has a pair or two in residence.  After some months laying fallow in the darkness of a drawer, the sunglasses were found….by me. Continue reading

Juggernaut

steam_locomotiveI have always like words and the origin of words – just fascinating stuff.  Today’s “Word of the Day” from Merriam-Webster is a blend of etymology and things Franciscan. Juggernaut is a massive inexorable force, campaign, movement, or object that crushes whatever is in its path.  So, why is that the definition? That’s where the Franciscan aspect comes in. Continue reading

Telling our stories

TheConfessionsSt. Augustine of Hippo begins his great work The Confessions with a question: “How shall I call upon my God and my Lord, when by the very act of calling upon him I would be calling himself into myself? Is there any place within me into which my God might come? How can God who made the heaven and earth come into me? Is there any room in me for you, Lord, my God?” (I:2)

As Augustine continues to write you can sense his feeling of frustration or bafflement grow until he asks the ultimate question to God that we all should ask of ourselves: “What are you to me?” Then wonderfully Augustine continues, “Have mercy on me, so that I may tell you.” (I:5) Augustine then proceeds with the rest of The Confessions in which he finds God in the telling of his own story – not in the universe or theological books – but in his own story. Continue reading