Fidelity in the Word, in the Works, and in the Presence of Christ: Friday of the Fourteenth Week in Ordinary Time (Hosea 14:2-10; Psalm 51:3-4, 8-9, 12-13, 14, 17; Matthew 10:16-23)

In the Catechism we read:

"This Kingdom shines out before men in the word, in the works and in the presence of Christ."  To welcome Jesus' word is to welcome "the Kingdom itself."  The seed and beginning of the Kingdom are the "little flock" of those whom Jesus came to gather around him, the flock whose shepherd he is.  They form Jesus' true family.  To those whom he thus gathered around him, he taught a new "way of acting" and a prayer of their own.

The Lord Jesus endowed his community with a structure that will remain until the Kingdom is fully achieved. Before all else there is the choice of the Twelve with Peter as their head. Representing the twelve tribes of Israel, they are the foundation stones of the new Jerusalem.  The Twelve and the other disciples share in Christ's mission and his power, but also in his lot.  By all his actions, Christ prepares and builds his Church.

These are among the foundational realities behind the creed we profess each Sunday.  All Catholics profess to believe our Blessed Lord gave one Church, a visible structure, choosing the Twelve Apostles with Saint Peter as their head. This one Church continues today, united under the Successor of Peter and the bishops in full communion with him.

Challenges to these truths of the faith are nothing new.  We have talked in the past about the Great Schism as well as the Protestant Reformation.  There are other concerning movements, such as Sedevacantism which holds that the Seat of Peter (or the Papacy) has been vacant since 1958.

Another example that has been in the news lately is the consecration of the SSPX bishops.  The SSPX, which stands for the Society of Saint Pius X, is a schismatic group originating in 1970 that sees itself as preserving traditional Catholicism and remaining faithful to the Church's historic teaching. 

Unfortunately, the SSPX has forgotten that authentic fidelity to tradition cannot be separated from obedience and fidelity to the hierarchy of the Church.

The SSPX consecrations undermine Church unity and papal authority, both of which are part of the tradition the SSPX claims to preserve.   The consecration of bishops is an ecclesial act that expresses communion with the Successor of Peter and the Church Magisterium.  Papal consent is required for the ordination of new bishops to ensure this communion.  To ordain bishops against the explicit will of the Holy Father is to strike at the very principle of unity Christ Himself established.

The Church has been very clear on this for decades.  As part of Pope Saint John Paul II’s response to illicit ordinations, the Holy See made it clear this is a line that cannot be crossed. Yet, the SSPX made their choice in 1988 and again just a few days ago.  

The reality is that the problems with the SSPX go well beyond the illicit ordinations: they reject the Second Vatican Council, they reject Papal authority, they reject the validity of the Ordinary Form of the Mass.  The SSPX has consistently disregarded juridic actions of the Magisterium since its original suppression in 1975.

In 1973, Our Lady of Akita warned of “cardinals opposing cardinals, bishops against bishops”, or perhaps through the lens of our Gospel today, brother against brother.  Our Lady’s warning of schism seemingly unheeded.

As faithful Catholics, we must never lose sight of where Christ promised His authority would remain. In today's Gospel, Jesus declares that the Spirit of the Father speaks through Peter and the Apostles. That apostolic authority continues through their legitimate successors, united with the Bishop of Rome.

We must trust in the promises of Christ, even when we see confusion and dissonance around us.  Jesus gave Peter the keys to the kingdom and promised the gates of hell will never prevail over His Church.  The one true Church that shines out before men in the word, in the works, and in the presence of Christ.

In full communion with Pope Leo and the Church Magisterium, my mouth will declare your praise.

Thanks be to God!

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Patience and Salvation: Optional Memorial of Saint Augustine Zhao Rong, Priest, and Companions, Martyrs (1 John 5:1-5; Psalm 126:1-2ab, 2cd-3, 4-5, 6; John 12:24-26)

Today is the memorial of Saint Augustine Zhao Rong.

Saint Augustine Zhao Rong was a soldier in China who helped escort a Catholic bishop to prison. While carrying out orders to persecute Christians, he encountered the bishop's faith and courage. Through God's patience and grace, he eventually converted to Christianity, was baptized, became a priest, and later suffered martyrdom himself during the persecution of Catholics.  

From a certain perspective, you could say he was a weed that became wheat that would later die to produce much fruit.

In Saint Augustine’s time, Christian missionaries and converts were imprisoned, tortured, and executed, while many of their persecutors appeared to hold power and authority.

As we often see, God did not immediately punish those involved in persecution. Instead, He showed patience. Saint Augustine himself benefited from that patience: before his conversion, he was part of the Christian oppression. Had God acted only in judgment, Augustine might never have had the opportunity to repent and become a saint.

His life demonstrates that God's patience is ordered toward salvation. The same patience that allows evildoers time to continue in their ways also gives them the opportunity to change. Augustine's conversion from a soldier carrying out persecution to a faithful priest and martyr is a powerful example of how God can transform a sinner into a saint.

In his monthly challenge, Archbishop Lori requests that we reach out to a family member or friend and invite them to go to the sacrament of penance.

In this challenge, he asks us to reflect on the following questions;  In what ways are you like wheat, and in what ways are you like a weed? Are you envious or disturbed by those who lead unholy lives but seem to prosper? Do you find it difficult to love the “weeds” in your life, to pray for and work toward their salvation?

Whether we more resemble a weed or wheat, or even if we feel like we are surrounded by nothing but weeds, we can be grateful that God's patience is ordered to salvation.  We can trust God to give opportunities through which He brings about repentance, conversion, and ultimately holiness.

In the spirit of patience and repentance, those who sow in tears shall reap rejoicing.

Thanks be to God!

The Flesh or My Flesh: Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Zechariah 9:9-10; Psalm 145:1-2, 8-9, 10-11, 13-14; Romans 8:9, 11-13; Matthew 11:25-30)

Throughout Scripture, we encounter two radically different uses of the word “flesh”.  In our second reading, we hear about the failings of “the flesh”.  At the same time, in the Gospel of John, Jesus commands us to eat “My Flesh”. 

On the surface, these phrases sound nearly identical.  In fact, many well-meaning Christians conflate the two, leading to a profound misunderstanding of not only Scripture, but also a profound misunderstanding of salvation itself.  At the same time, the distinction between the two is the difference between death and eternal life. 

When Scripture speaks of “the flesh”, it refers to our human nature.  There are two absolute truths we must understand about our human nature: 

“The flesh” is deeply wounded: Through Original Sin, we were robbed of our Original Dignity by the Father of Lies.  We were left spiritually bankrupt, left to live a life without grace.  As a result, "the flesh" is broken, selfish, and proud. It is not inherently evil, but it is deeply compromised—constantly prone to temptation and concupiscence. 

Despite this brokenness, “the flesh” is inherently good: It is fragile and broken, but it is fundamentally good because God created it.  We know this with certainty because God Himself became flesh.  He inhabited our vulnerable human existence, restoring its dignity…a dignity we receive through baptism. 

Still, left to its own devices, "the flesh" is a state of spiritual death. 

But Jesus makes perhaps the most bold and substantial statements of all salvation history when He says “My Flesh”.  The consequences of these statements cannot be overstated. 

That is because salvation happens through "My Flesh."  Jesus did not save us in theory; nor did Jesus did not save us in Word alone.  Jesus died in a real, physical, human body on the Cross.  

Through the Mass, we truly participate in that once and for all sacrifice on the Cross, and through that participation our mortal bodies are redeemed. 

We consume “My Flesh” every single time we receive the Eucharist.  Jesus promised in the Gospel of John that when we eat His Flesh, He dwells in us and we in Him.  This is exactly what Saint Paul refers to in today’s reading: He gives “life to your mortal bodies, through his Spirit that dwells in you.” 

That is because through the Eucharist, we are in communion with His resurrected body.  As Saint Ignatius of Antioch declared in the early second century, the Eucharist is nothing less than the "medicine of immortality." 

Let us be very, very clear:  Objectively speaking, apart from the Eucharist and the Sacramental Life Jesus Christ instituted in the Catholic Church, we are hopeless debtors enslaved to our own broken inclinations.  "The flesh", cut off from the Flesh of the Son of Man, can only inherit death.

You may ask why so many confuse the two?  You may ask why this core truth of Christianity is hidden from so many? 

Our Gospel reading gives us the sobering answers to those questions.  Those who rely on their own wisdom—those who believe that merely picking up a Bible and declaring Jesus as their personal Lord and Savior is enough—remain blind to the hidden mysteries of God.  They are blind because these mysteries are only revealed through the Sacramental Life that Jesus Christ instituted in the one church He built. 

When we live merely in “the flesh”—when we choose to live outside the Sacramental Life—we lack the spiritual capacity to grasp the greatest mysteries of God.

Or as we just heard Saint Paul put it, “Whoever does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him.”

As the Mystical Body of Christ, we Catholics are uniquely privileged.  We are the ones to whom Jesus chooses to reveal the Father to the fullest extent possible. 

Think of the disciples on the road to Emmaus.  They simply did not recognize Jesus Christ through Scripture alone.  They only came to know Him in the Breaking of the Bread.  That exact moment of Breaking of the Bread is what we call the Mass today—the precise second the priest breaks the Host at the altar, placing us at the foot of the Cross, truly participating in the Paschal Mystery. 

Through the Incarnation, Jesus makes the invisible Father visible to mortal eyes.  It is then through the Mass, we continue to look upon Him with our own physical eyes.  It is only by touching, hearing, tasting, and therefore physically encountering the Flesh of the Son of Man that we are pulled into the deepest recesses of the intimate, burning life of the most Holy Trinity. 

I must ask you:  When you come to Mass, do you actually come seeking a physical encounter with the Son of Man?  Do you hear His living voice in the Gospel?  Do you look at the altar with eyes of faith and see the mysteries of God unfolding before you?  Do you realize that you are feeling His Flesh and tasting His Blood through the Eucharist?  Does your heart burn within you—like the disciples at Emmaus—with the grace of the Flame of Love as you truly receive Him? 

If your answer to any of these questions is "no", then maybe it is time to courageously ask yourself why.  What part of "the flesh" are you still clinging to that prevents you from truly experiencing Him?   What misconceptions from non-Catholic influences keeps you from truly believing the Eucharist is true meat and true drink, just as Jesus declared in the Gospel of John?  What broken habit, what secret pride, what lingering sin are you holding onto that forbids you from abandoning yourself to the Sacramental Life? 

Do not settle for a life lived merely in "the flesh".  Abandon yourself to Jesus Christ right now, today, through this and every single Mass.  Bring your labors, your anxieties, and your burdens to the altar.  If you can do that, they will be transformed by the Paschal Mystery into grace. Through the Eucharist, remain in Him, so that He may remain in you.  Objectively speaking, that is the only way you will ever find true rest in this life, and everlasting peace in the life to come.

Abiding in the Flesh of Jesus Christ, I will praise your name for ever, my king and my God.

Thanks be to God!

Apostle to India: Feast of Saint Thomas, Apostle (Ephesians 2:19-22; Psalm 117:1bc, 2; John 20:24-29)

If I were to ask you to tell me the first thing that comes to mind when I mention India, I am sure I would get some wonderful responses.  Many of us might mention Saint Mother Theresa, who spent a large part of her ministry on the streets of Calcutta in India.  Some of us might think of food.  Afterall, we are blessed with some great Indian restaurants in West County.  Others might think of some of the Hindu temples we have seen pictures of, or perhaps even Hindu deities we have heard of.

Conversely, very few of us would probably think of India as the landing ground for an Apostolic Church.  Yet, that is exactly what it is.

In 1498, Vasco da Gama successfully sailed around Africa and landed on the southwestern coast of India.  What he found was the last thing he could have ever expected:  a vibrant, deeply established community of Christians. They did not speak Latin. Instead, they chanted their prayers in Syriac—a dialect of Aramaic, the very language spoken by Jesus. Perhaps more astonishing, they had all seven of the Sacraments.

When asked who brought them this faith, they simply responded: Thomas.

In the year 52 AD, Thomas, the Apostle, stepped off a ship onto the shores of Muziris, of what is now the Malabar Coast of Kerala, India. 

When he arrived, Thomas found a melting pot of global trade.  This was a home to not only native Hindus, but also to Roman traders and migrant Jewish merchants. Naturally, Thomas began his preaching there, in the Jewish quarters, before his message rapidly rippled out into the broader Hindu population. 

Tradition holds that Thomas traveled on foot along the coastal rivers, establishing seven core faith communities—likely what we would refer to as parishes today in the Roman Church. 

The people who accepted his message did not abandon their culture. They formed the unique, beautiful liturgical life of the Syro-Malabaric Rite, which is comparable to the Latin Rite we celebrate in the Roman Church. 

They remained thoroughly Indian in their customs, dress, and societal structures, but profoundly Christian in their devotion. To this day, their descendants are known proudly as the Saint Thomas Christians.

Thomas’s journey did not end on the peaceful western coast. Eventually, he crossed over the subcontinent to the eastern shore, arriving near modern-day Chennai.

There, the Gospel message began to clash with the local religious establishment. In the year 72 AD, while praying on a hill now known as Saint Thomas Mount, the Apostle was attacked and martyred, pierced by a spear.

He was buried nearby.  Currently, the majestic San Thome Basilica stands over his burial spot. 

Today, millions of Saint Thomas Christians are part of the Syro Malabar Catholic Church, including the Sacred Heart mission in Hazelwood.  

They continue to sing their ancient Aramaic chants, and preserve an unbroken chain of faith that stretches back to the upper room of Jerusalem. 

I think it is time to let go of this image of the doubting Thomas many of us have, and remember instead his fierce, unimaginable courage. He was the skeptic who traveled further than any other Apostle to spread the Kingdom of the Sacred Heart.

Like Saint Thomas, the Apostle, let us go out to all the world and tell the Good News.

Thanks be to God!

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Ordinary Saint: Memorial of Saint Josemaría Escrivá (Genesis 2:4b-9,15; Psalm 2:7,8-9,10-11,12; Luke 5:1-11)

Saint Josemaría Escrivá was born in Barbastro, Spain, in 1902. 

At the age of two, he nearly died from a serious illness. In the years that followed, three of his younger sisters passed away. Then his family lost much of what they had worked for when financial disaster struck unexpectedly. By the time he reached adulthood, he had already experienced a lifetime of pain, uncertainty, and disappointment.

For most people, such experiences can leave deep wounds. Chronic illness, loss, financial struggles, and daily hardships can easily lead to discouragement, bitterness, and despair. 

Saint Josemaría was not most people.  He responded differently. Rather than allowing suffering to push him away from God, he allowed suffering to draw him closer to God.

Through life's trials, he developed a profound trust that God remains present even when life feels fragile, unfair, or just outright impossible. He learned that faith is not reserved for the moments when everything is going well. Faith is strengthened through suffering, sacrifice, and ordinary struggles that seem to have no end.

As a young man, Saint Josemaría initially studied to become an architect. Later, however, he discerned a call to the priesthood and was ordained in 1925.

In 1928, he received a revelation that would come to define his life's work: every Christian is called to holiness, not apart from ordinary life, but within it. We do not need to escape our responsibilities, our families, our workplaces, or even our sufferings in order to find God. Instead, God meets us where we are.

Holiness is possible in the middle of everyday life. It is possible for parents caring for children, workers facing exhausting schedules, caregivers tending to loved ones, and those living with chronic pain, fatigue, or disability. God is present not only in extraordinary moments but also in the ordinary routines that make up most of our lives.

Saint Josemaría Escrivá taught that even the most common tasks can become holy when they are carried out with love, obedience, and a desire to serve God and others. The daily effort to persevere through pain, to fulfill one's duties despite limitations, or simply to begin again after a difficult day can become an offering pleasing to God.

To help others live this vision, he gathered his spiritual reflections into a book called “The Way”, a collection of nearly one thousand points for meditation on finding God in the midst of ordinary life.

He also founded Opus Dei, which is Latin for "Work of God." Its mission is to help ordinary men and women discover that their daily lives—their work, their family responsibilities, their struggles, their joys, and their sufferings—can all become pathways to holiness. Members seek to remain close to God through practices such as daily Mass, the reading of Sacred Scripture and other spiritual books, the Rosary, time spent each day in personal prayer, bearing witness to their Christian faith wherever they are, and small acts of self-denial offered in union with Christ's suffering.

On June 26, 1975, Saint Josemaría Escrivá died suddenly in Rome after casting a final loving glance toward an image of Our Lady in his workroom. He was canonized by Pope Saint John Paul II on October 6, 2002.

The enduring message of Saint Josemaría Escrivá is one of hope for ordinary people. As he taught:

"Sanctity is not for a privileged few. The Lord calls all of us. He expects love from all of us—from everyone, wherever they are; from everyone, whatever their state in life, their profession or job. For the daily life we live, apparently so ordinary, can be a path to sanctity... because all the paths of the earth can be the occasion for an encounter with Christ."

For those whose days are marked by chronic illness, persistent pain, caregiving responsibilities, financial strain, or simple exhaustion, Saint Josemaría Escrivá offers a consoling reminder: God has not abandoned you to those struggles. He is present within them. The ordinary circumstances of your life—even the difficult ones—can become the very place where you encounter Christ and grow in holiness.

Along with Saint Josemaría Escrivá, praise the Lord, all you peoples.

Thanks be to God!

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