The Pathway to Peace (Advent IV.C)

Our Friday morning men’s prayer group celebrated Mass together at 6 a.m. last week. Like other members of the group, I invited some men in the parish to join us.

I was surprised by those who turned down the invitation because they were busy. Not because they didn’t want to be in church so early, but because they already had a work commitment at the crack of dawn.

Think about that. None of these men was a coal miner or a taxi driver or a doctor in the emergency room, but all of them were expected to be on duty shortly after most people wake up.

We can’t just blame their nasty bosses in Toronto. Many of us are living in the eye of a hurricane of busy-ness, whether we’re in business, managing a home, or serving a parish.

Is it any wonder that the Friday morning group chose “peace” as a theme for our Advent Mass?

Peace is a word that rings in our ears. Our hearts long for it, even if we aren’t entirely sure what it is.

In our first reading today, the prophet Micah doesn’t tell us what peace is; he announces who peace is. Writing at a time of political disaster and impending doom, he promises security from the Messiah who will be born in Bethlehem.

But he doesn’t say the Messiah will bring peace; he will be peace.

St. Paul says the same thing about 700 years later, when he tells the Ephesians that Christ Jesus “is our peace.” (Eph. 2:14)

Many people today seek peace through techniques. You can find dozens of books online that promise peace through deep breathing, yoga, or something called mindfulness training. Much of this is rooted in Eastern or New Age methods.

But only Christianity promises peace as a person—Someone on whom we can unload our limitations, our sorrows, our shortcomings, our imperfect spouses and children, our bad health, our fears—all of the ordinary “stuff” which we allow to rob us of our peace.

The security and peace promised to us in Christ comes from surrendering control of our lives to Him—not asking him to change everything we’re dealing with, but asking him to change us.

In our second reading, Jesus himself accepts God’s will, in an act of total surrender to the Father. None of can make such a complete sacrifice of ourselves, but all of us, made holy by Christ’s sacrifice, are also called to surrender ourselves to the will of God.

Doing God’s will can be as simple as bearing with the trials life sends us, uniting them to the supreme sacrifice of Christ through the Mass, through a morning offering, and by accepting them.

What does God’s will mean for you this week? For some, it might be accepting without complaint the arrival of a mother-in-law who likes to say “that’s not really how we stuff a turkey in our family…”

It might be bearing with the loneliness that comes from missing a departed loved one at Christmastime. Maybe we need to resist family social events that will make it all but impossible to come to Mass on Christmas.

For me, it will be finding time to pray during this wild week, trying to find time to write a good homily for Friday while getting to Costco before Thursday.

God’s will is different for each of us, but God’s peace is the same for all of us—Christ, who is our peace. Christ, born in Bethlehem, Christ, coming anew at Christmas.

The famous Serenity Prayer may be just what we need to help us understand how we are to accept God’s will and find the peace that Jesus promises, a peace the world cannot give, even at Christmas.

Let me close with its power-filled words:

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

Living one day at a time;
enjoying one moment at a time;
accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
that I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
forever in the next.   Amen.

Our First Permanent Deacons

Last evening, on the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Archbishop J. Michael Miller ordained the first permanent deacons for the Archdiocese of Vancouver. It was a great moment for our local Church, but also for me, since I have directed their formation since our permanent diaconate program began.

Here, with his kind permission, is the Archbishop's homily.

What a blessed and historic day this is – and at long last! – in the life of the Archdiocese of Vancouver: the Ordination of these sixteen men now elected to the Sacred Order of Deacons.  Not only is this the first group of men who will serve our local Church as permanent deacons, it is the largest Ordination ever held in our beautiful Cathedral.  Truly it is a moment of special grace and joy for each one of you, brothers, and for your families, but for all of us as well.  We cannot but repeat the words which marked the dawn of our salvation in Christ when the Angel Gabriel said to the Virgin Mary: “Rejoice” (Lk 1:28).  Yes, this evening we rejoice and give the Lord thanks and praise for he is doing marvelous things for us (cf. Ps 98:1) by enriching our Archdiocese, as he did the Church of the Apostles, with “men of good standing, full of the Spirit and of wisdom” (Acts 6:3) to share in the ordained ministry. 

Expression of Gratitude

It is also fitting tonight to offer profound thanks to all those who, for over four years, have been intimately involved in accompanying our ordinandi on their journey to Ordination.  Above all, dear brothers, I am thinking of your wives and families, the domestic churches where your vocation to the diaconate first took root – for some of you even many years ago, and for others more recently.  Yours is a “vocation within a vocation,” a new gift and a new responsibility alongside the Sacrament of Marriage.

Often with considerable sacrifice, they have supported your rigorous program of formation.  I wish to acknowledge their invaluable contribution and you know – far more than I ever could – the extent to which their steady encouragement, sometimes their forbearance, and always their heartfelt prayer have played an indispensable role in sustaining the “yes” you have each given to the Lord’s call.  Married permanent deacons derive so much of their spiritual experience and strength from living in their families.

I also wish to express my deepest gratitude to Monsignor Greg Smith.  From the very outset, he was been tireless in putting together a superb, if demanding, formation program for the aspirants and candidates.  He has spent so many hours beyond what could be expected of any program Director that I can only marvel at all that he has accomplished to ensure that the permanent diaconate is established in our Archdiocese in an exemplary fashion.  Working closely with him have been many pastors, priests and Religious, as well as the Advisory Committee, and the administration and faculty of St. Mark’s College: all of these men and women have been extraordinarily generous in offering their teaching, as well as their wise and discerning counsel, at every step of the formation journey.

And, of course, I wish to thank you, dear elect in the Lord, for imitating in your own lives Mary’s response to the Lord as recounted in the Gospel for this Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception.  Because you are being ordained on this feast, you are by that very fact alone “Mary’s men, Mary’s deacons.”

She had within her heart the faith and generosity to say “yes” to the call of God: “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be done to me according to your word” (Lk 1:38).  That fiat didn’t make life easy for her.  Her “let it be” was not only acceptance of a vocation, but also a trustful openness to whatever the future might bring.

Today we thank the good Lord for your “yes.”  Despite your responsibilities as husbands, fathers and professional men, you are willing to devote yourselves to the service of God for his Church in Vancouver.  You are to be for us living icons of Jesus the Servant, the first Deacon, who came “not to be served but to serve” (cf. Mk 10:45).  Your ministry, like that of Jesus, is first and foremost the service of God, expressed in the pastoral care of the people to whom you are sent.

Threefold Ministry of Deacons

Through consecration by the laying on of hands, a practice that originates with the Apostles, and strengthened by the gift of the Holy Spirit invoked upon them, our deacons will show themselves to be servants of all and helpers of me and the priests of our presbyterate by serving as ministers of the altar, of the word, and of charity and justice.

Ministers of the Altar

“As ministers of the altar, they will proclaim the Gospel in the liturgical assembly, prepare the Sacrifice, and distribute the Lord’s Body and Blood.”  They also “preside over public prayer, administer Baptism, assist at and bless Marriages, bring Viaticum to the dying, and conduct funeral rites.”^[1]  They can also officiate at Exposition and Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament, conduct prayer services for the sick and dying, administer sacramentals, and lead popular devotions.

Dear ordinandi: whenever you will have the privilege of ministering at the Eucharist or bringing Holy Communion to those at home do so in such a way that the reverence with which you surround Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament may touch the hearts of your people and deepen their faith and their trust in him.

I hope that, with time, the Church’s rubrics for celebrating the liturgy will become second nature to you, so that when you are engaged in the Church’s sacramental worship, you can truly focus on drawing those you are serving into the mystery of Christ’s love, there to experience his mercy and healing, there to be nourished and strengthened so that they can all truly be missionary disciples.  Remember to pray before you celebrate and while you celebrate, so that your lives may give God glory after you have celebrated the liturgy.

Ministers of the Word

As sharers in the Church’s mission of evangelization, our deacons will also preach the Word of God at the liturgies, as well as be heralds of this Word by providing, among other things, catechetical instruction, adult faith formation, and preparation for reception of the Sacraments.

Dear brothers: you will be able to evangelize only if you yourselves are constantly being evangelized through your personal encounter and friendship with Jesus; only if you allow Jesus to take ownership of your lives.

And so, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, through your prayer, contemplation and study, cultivate a great reverence and love for God’s Word as authoritatively handed down in the community of the Church.

Minister of Charity

Because the deacons’ ministry is a visible sign of the Church’s service to the world, they will dedicate themselves generously to the works of charity and justice in the Archdiocese, above all to the corporal and spiritual works of mercy.  In doing so, they are continuing the ministry of waiting on tables entrusted to the first seven deacons as recorded in the Acts of the Apostles (cf Acts 6:2).  “The social service which they [the first deacons] were meant to provide was absolutely concrete, yet at the same time it was also a spiritual service; theirs was a truly spiritual office which carried out an essential responsibility of the Church, namely a well-ordered love of neighbour. [As Pope Benedict wrote,] With the formation of this group of seven, ‘diaconia’ – the ministry of charity exercised in a communitarian, orderly way – became part of the fundamental structure of the Church.”^[2]

They are to bring the marginalized to the Church and the Church to those on the peripheries of society: the unprotected unborn, the sick, the abused, the dying and bereaved, the deaf and disabled, those with troubled marriages, the homeless, victims of substance abuse, prisoners, refugees, and street people.  Fostering the practice of justice as contained in the Church’s social teaching is a duty entrusted in a special way to diaconal ministry.

Jubilee Year of Mercy

Dear elect: in God’s Providence, you are being ordained on the day when the Holy Father is inaugurating the Jubilee Year of Mercy and is inviting the whole Church to “render more clearly her mission to be a witness to mercy . . . [and] to live in the light of the word of the Lord: ‘Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful’ (cf. Lk 6:36).”^[3]  In Pope Francis’s words, “the Church’s primary task . . . is to introduce everyone to the great mystery of God’s mercy by contemplating the face of Christ.”^[4]

Yours, then, is to be a ministry of mercy: walking with people whose wounds cry for healing; going out to seek the lost and the hopeless; lifting up those who have fallen; helping others to find the path that God is calling them to, the happiness that he intends for each of his children.  May you always have the eyes of faith to recognize the face of Jesus himself in the “little ones” entrusted to you.

Never let people “forget that God forgives all, and God forgives always.”^[5]  Mercy is “the beating heart of the Gospel.”^[6]

Conclusion

As we continue now with the Rite of Ordination, let us ask the Immaculate Virgin Mary to awaken in all of us – but now especially our ordinandi – a renewed desire for holiness: that the beauty of worship may transform our lives, that the splendour of truth may shine forth in our words, and that the song of charity may resound in our works.^[7]

---

^[1] Roman Pontifical, Rite of Ordination of Several Deacons.

^[2] Benedict XVI, Deus Caritas Est, 21.

^[3] Francis, Homily at Penitential Vigil (13 March 2015).

^[4] Francis, Misericordiae Vultus, 25.

^[5] Francis, Homily at Penitential Vigil (13 March 2015).

^[6] Francis, Misericordiae Vultus, 12.

^[7] Cf. Francis, Prayer for the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception (8 December 2013).

Doing as Christ the King Commands

I often wondered how Christ the Redeemer Parish got its name and finally received the answer on the feast day of St. John Paul II last month. Father Craig Scott, who was the assistant pastor to Monsignor Peter Mallon, who began building our church, says the inspiration for the name was the title of Pope John Paul’s first encyclical letter, The Redeemer of Man.

As luck would have it, our founding pastor, Father Tim McCarthy, joined us at Mass today for our parish feast day and confirmed what Father Scott had told me.

So last night I took a look at Redemptor Hominis, a document, which I hadn’t read since I was in the seminary. I found enough to preach a hundred homilies on our parish feast day.

In a nutshell, St. John Paul teaches that the Church’s job is to point humanity towards the mystery of God. In other words, the Church—which is to say, our parish—exists to help people understand Redemption, the gift of healing and hope in Christ Jesus.

So you might say that our parish is all about our Redeemer. But St. John Paul says something more: “at the same time man's deepest sphere is involved—we mean the sphere of human hearts, consciences and events.”

The sphere of humanity—and of human events.

Motivated by our faith in the Redeemer, our parish responds to human hearts. We celebrate the joys and sorrows of births, deaths, and marriages within our community. We help to form the consciences of our parishioners, young and old, through our schools, faith formation programs, spiritual direction and the sacrament of penance.

Beyond our boundaries parishioners meet the needs of the poor on the downtown east side and elsewhere.

But beyond all that, as disciples of the Redeemer of all humanity, we are connected to the sphere of world events—of tsunamis, famines, and earthquakes—and have provided generous support to those affected.

Today, there is one event in the world that overshadows even the worst of natural disasters: the terrorism and war that is tearing people from their homes and creating a tsunami of exiles. This above all demands a redeeming response from God’s people.

Here you can see something of what we have done as a parish community.

And we are about to do it again. What our parish was able to do for the Shaboo family, who joined us at Mass this morning, we are about to repeat for three refugee families, one with very special needs.

I had hoped to be able to announce on the feast of Christ the King all the details about the  families we are going to sponsor, but some last-minute glitches came up last week. The plan will take another week or two.

But for now I can say that the necessary funds and volunteers are now available for us to do this all over again, but in a more daring way.

There's no doubt in my mind that our parish community has heard and is living the words of our Redeemer and King: whatever you do to the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you do it to me.

'Generous Jimmy' Not the Answer! (Covenant of One III)

BC’s richest man 
lives in our parish. Just up the hill, in fact. And he’s a generous man—in a few weeks his house will be shining with Christmas lights for all to enjoy.

Jimmy Pattison is a serious Christian, but he’s not a Catholic. But think if he was! Our money problems would be solved. The rest of you could close your purses and sit on your wallets. Generous Jimmy could look after all our needs, starting with the latest leaks in the roof. We’d be on easy street at Christ the Redeemer.

Or would we?

Far from being on easy street, we’d be on a path to ruin and within a few years our parish would be spiritually weak, lacking in joy and energy,

Because Christians need to give. We don’t just give to needs, we need to give.

Our Covenant of One is based on solid biblical principles about the Christian life. We need to give our hearts to God in prayer. We need to give our time to others in service. And we need to give a share of our income to the Church and other charities.

Time, talent and treasure—these sum up everything we possess. And everything we have comes from God. On that simple fact rests the whole notion of Christian stewardship. We give what we ourselves received as a gift from God.

This Sunday we wrap up the three Sundays during which we’ve talked about the next steps in our relationship with God—small steps, really, but important ones. Are we ready to offer God a simple covenant of one, a promise of an extra hour of prayer, and extra hour of service and an hour of wages?

And if those three commitments are too much, are we ready to offer one of them? An extra hour of prayer means less than ten minutes a day—but in my first Covenant of One homily, I offered a few ideas for just an extra ten minutes a week, since it’s all about trying rather than just ticking off boxes.

An hour of wages, for a household with an income of $80,000, is a weekly contribution of about $40 That would compare with a devout Protestant’s 10 per cent tithe of $154! The hour’s wages we suggest is something closer to 3 per cent.

Most priests hate to preach about money, and most parishioners hate it when priests preach about money. So maybe I should not preach about money—except that Jesus does it, St. Paul does it, even the Old Testament prophets talk about it.

What Jesus says in today’s Gospel is almost all we need to know about sacrificial giving. God is honoured not by amounts but by attitudes. Whether you are rich or poor, your contribution to the parish should require some sacrifice; giving that has become too much of a routine is spiritually fruitless, even if it does help the parish pay its bills.

The first reading also tells us something that’s truly important: God is not outdone in generosity. The faithfulness of the widow of Zarephath is a model of generosity, and the reward she is given comes to her from God. Like the widow in the Gospel with her famous mite, this woman gives what she has and it pleases God greatly.

The Word of God today presents spiritual truths that are especially wonderful for a parish like ours. These readings put all of us an equal footing—the richest and the poorest, the parishioners and the priests are all equally able to please God by their sacrificial gifts; indeed, the poor have an edge, because no-one is suggesting that the rich should contribute all they have to live on. There’s not enough room for them to move into the rectory, large though it is.

Our parish has many generous stewards of God’s gifts—people who pray, people who serve, and people who donate with great generosity. But the call to stewardship is not for some; it’s for all. Because God’s covenant is offered to each one of us.

All Saints: An Invitation to All

Every year on Holy Thursday hundreds and hundreds of priests gather with the Holy Father for the Chrism Mass at St. Peter’s. The sight of such a long line of white-robed priests streaming into the Basilica is nothing short of amazing.

But if you think the sight is amazing, imagine what it’s like to be in the procession!

In 2007 I was in Rome on Holy Thursday. I was one of those hundreds of priests processing into St. Peter’s. And I can tell you, being part of the action beats watching from the aisle.

The first reading for today’s great feast of All Saints describes a procession vastly more majestic than anything on earth. The white-robed multitude are not priests, but men and women who now stand before the very throne of the Lamb of God.

There’s no doubt: to join their number is incomparably more wonderful than even the vision given to St. John of their heavenly triumph and glorious worship.

The Solemnity of All Saints, certainly, honours the great heavenly company and gives thanks for the victory of so many of our brothers and sisters in Christ. But this annual festival is also an opportunity for us “to implore the Divine Mercy through this multitude of powerful intercessors” and to make up for any failure or lack in honouring God in His Saints throughout the year. If we’re honest, most of us will admit that we pay too little attention to the individual saints whose feast days occur throughout the year. And so we have this one solemn day, as “an image of that eternal great feast which God continually celebrates in heaven” with all his saints [Butler’s Lives of the Saints, Nov. 1st].

But amidst all these wondrous aspects of today’s feast, one stands out above all. Today we’re called and challenged by the example of the saints—especially those whom we have known and loved. Today we’re called to imitate their virtues so that we might share in their reward.

I’ve already said that it’s far more exciting to be in a procession than to watch it. And though our second reading is less dramatic than the first—instead of triumphant white-robed martyrs John calls us ‘children of God’—surely that’s even more exciting, even more worthy of our deepest longing and serious effort.

And so we come to the question: what do we have to do to join the great multitude in heaven? What do we have to do be called God’s children?

The Gospel today gives two simple answers. First of all, accept your sufferings in poverty of spirit—which is to say in a spirit of surrender, accepting life’s hardships as the pathway to peace.

Secondly, strive for righteousness, show mercy, live purely, make peace, and persevere through persecution.

Two simple answers, but are they all that simple? Two weeks ago I spoke about facing suffering, and a week ago about prayer, an essential ingredient in that process and in obtaining purity of heart. But what does it mean—really mean, in daily life—to strive for righteousness, show mercy, make peace, and persevere through persecution?

Well, it won’t be long before some of us learn how to persevere under persecution as the state increasingly turns its power against the vulnerable and those who defend the vulnerable, especially Christians. But that’s for another day. Let’s just look at righteousness, which is another name for justice, mercy, and peacemaking. How do these virtues help us join the ranks of the heavenly host? How do they form us as children of God?

Today is the second Sunday of the three our parish is devoting to the themes of stewardship as part of our Covenant of One, an extra hour of prayer, service and sacrificial giving offered to God.

Last week we spoke of prayer, a gift of time. This week we turn to talent, the gifts we have received ourselves. An inventory of our talents, and a willingness to share them generously, is the fastest shortcut to the practical answer “what can I give?”

None of us can devote ourselves equally to the battle for social justice, to merciful compassion to the poor or to the making of peace in a world of conflict. But all of us have God-given gifts we can put to work in one or another of the works of mercy that have traditionally defined the Christian’s service to God and neighbour.

What do I have that equips me to be the hands and feet of Christ? With an answer to that question and a generous spirit, I can make a covenant of one hour that will draw me straight into the mystery of the communion of the saints.

Of course, we need to know not only what we have to give, but also what needs to be given. What we have to offer we learn from self-knowledge; but what is needed we learn from reading the signs of times. In the last few weeks, many members of our parish community have responded to the most startling human crisis of recent times, the implosion of civilized life in Syria and other war-torn countries with the consequent exodus of refugees.

Our parishioners have offered time, talent, and treasure; but a significant number have placed their talents at the service of the refugee families we intend to sponsor. Accountants, language-tutors, pickup-truck drivers, dentists, retirees, lawyers, and many others saw the needs and responded to them. One elderly parishioner came to our refugee meeting and said “I’m going to pray!”

As a pastor of this generous community of Christians, it touches my heart to see this response to the refugee crisis; but as a Christian, it moves me even more because some of those we hope to support are precisely those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake. We will be peacemakers and comforters for these brothers and sisters, helping to fulfill the promises God makes to them in the words of Jesus we’ve just heard.

There are, of course, numerous other ways to share your talents for the good of others in a covenant of one extra hour each week, and we will suggest some next Sunday.

But this Sunday we focus on the best reason for making a gift of ourselves—because it is a sure path to holiness of life and an eternal inheritance with all the saints. Our generous service will hold us a place in the great line of saints streaming to the throne of God.