Category: Homilies

On Filleted Fish

(Wis.18:6-9; Heb.11:1-2; 8-19; Lk.12:32-48)

In 1907, Robert Baden-Powell used his initials BP to create the motto Be Prepared for the Scouting movement.   He thought that scouts (and everyone else), should always be ready to meet any duty and any challenge.

This is good advice, but it came too late for Captain Sir John Franklin.  In 1845 he led a British Arctic expedition to Canada’s Northwest Passage.  He set off with two ships and 138 men on a dangerous journey expected to last for 2 to 3 years.

And how did Franklin prepare for it?  He packed 12-days’ worth of coal, 1,200 books, a hand-organ, lots of fine china, cut-glass wine goblets and sterling silver cutlery.  And he and his officers were clothed in fine blue cloth uniforms.  They must have been horrified when they discovered that they were totally unprepared for the deadly ice ahead.  They all perished. [i]

What about you?  Have you ever been caught unprepared?

In last week’s gospel, the Rich Man was so busy enjoying his treasure that he found himself completely unprepared for his sudden death.

This is what Jesus warns us about in today’s gospel.  He says, ‘You, too, must stand ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect.’

Now, we know that Jesus will return one day.  He has said so himself, and it’s recorded in John 14, Acts 1, Luke 21, Matthew 24 and many other places.  We affirm this belief whenever we recite the Creed and whenever we proclaim the mystery of our faith, ‘Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again’.

So, here’s the question: are we ready to meet Jesus face to face?  Are we ready to meet him at the end of our lives and at the end of all time?  And are we ready to receive Jesus in the many other ways he comes to us – through our prayer and reflection, in the Eucharist, in the faces of the people we meet, and in those sacred mystical moments when Jesus actually touches our souls?

If we’re not ready, then it’s time to do something about it. 

St Paul says that if we live according to the Spirit, then we’ll always be ready to receive Christ into our lives (Rom.8:1-14).  But what does it mean ‘to live according to the Spirit’?  

It means opening our hearts, our minds and our lives to our loving God. 

It means letting go of our pride, our selfishness and our worldly obsessions.  (For if we’re too full of ourselves, there’s no room for anything else.) 

It means getting closer to God through prayer and spiritual reading, and allowing him to change us from within (Jas.4:8). 

It means discovering the spiritual gifts he’s given each of us (1Cor.12:4,7).

And it means listening for God’s quiet voice in our lives, as he tells us what he’d like us to do with our spiritual gifts (1Kgs.19:11-12).

When we live in the presence of God and when we actively use the gifts he’s given us, then we’re always ready to receive Jesus.

Sadly, many people can’t be bothered.  They’d much rather pursue leisure and pleasure and every other distraction.  But such people eventually lose their instincts for anything else, and like the Rich Man in last week’s parable, the time comes when it’s just too late.

Fr Greg Jordan describes such people as ‘filleted’.  Just like fish, they’ve lost their backbones and every other bone in their body.  Bones give our bodies strength, structure and protection, and when we’re filleted we’re weak and we’re vulnerable.

In the same way, Jordan says our personalities have metaphorical backbones.  When we’re filleted, the backbones of strength of character, commitment and motivation are taken from us. [ii] 

Does that describe you? Have you been filleted?

In our secular society, there’s a strong current that’s carrying people further and further away from Jesus Christ, and many people have stopped resisting.  They’ve chosen to simply go with the flow, and they’re not thinking about where this current is taking them. 

We see this in the legislation that’s currently before the New South Wales Parliament. Our politicians are trying to extend legalised abortion to include babies all the way up to birth. It’s utterly disgraceful, but it’s not just happening here – it’s happening in many other parts of the U.S., in New Zealand and elsewhere, too.

They call it ‘reproductive health’, but it’s actually infanticide. It’s state-sanctioned murder, and yet another manifestation of the culture of death that’s pervading our society.

Loads of people will campaign loudly to save the whales, but they won’t lift a finger to save vulnerable human beings.

As W.C. Fields once said, it’s easy for a dead fish to float downstream, but it takes a live one to swim upstream.  And to swim against the current today you really need backbone, strength and commitment.

Jesus is coming.  Benjamin Franklin used to say that if you fail to prepare, then you’re preparing to fail.  Are you ready to meet Jesus?

If not, it’s time to prepare.

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[i] Annie Dillard, Teaching a Stone to Talk. HarperCollins, NY. 2013:29-64.

[ii] Patrick Richards, The Rosewood Table. St Pauls Publications, Strathfield. 2017:242.

On the Rich Fool

(Ecc.1:2; 2:21-23; Col.3:1-5, 9-11; Lk.12:13-21)

Years ago I knew a man who looked so poor that everyone felt sorry for him.  But when he died we discovered that he was actually fabulously rich; indeed, he was the largest private shareholder in a major Australian bank. But he wouldn’t spend a cent.  Why?

In today’s Gospel, Jesus warns a crowd of followers about the dangers of greed.  A man calls out to him, ‘Master, tell my brother to give me a share of our inheritance’. In those days, Jewish law said that on a father’s death, the elder son should receive 2/3 of any inheritance, and the younger son 1/3.  So it was probably the younger son calling out, but in any case he seems more interested in money than his father or his brotherly relationship.

Jesus replies by telling the story of a rich man who’d had a great harvest and decided to build bigger barns to hold his new treasure.  And he planned to spend it on a life of leisure and pleasure.  

Now, many people today would admire this man; they’d envy his success.  Yet Jesus calls him a fool.  Why?  Here are three reasons:

Firstly, he thought these riches were his.  But God doesn’t bless us with riches so that we can be selfish.  The truth is that everything comes from God, and God wants us to use what we have wisely, to benefit others as well as our families and ourselves.

Secondly, that man’s barns were full, but his heart was empty.  The only thing he cared about was money and the pleasure it gave him.

And finally, he forgot about time.  He died soon afterwards and had nothing to show for his life before God.

When we think about it, this Parable of the Rich Fool isn’t about money at all.  It’s about our values and how we live our lives.  Having money and worldly comforts isn’t wrong, but what is wrong is being self-centred about them, and not using them for the greater good.

In his book ‘The Gospel of the Heart’ (2005) Flor McCarthy reminds us that Jesus wants us to be rich in the sight of God, instead of storing up treasure for ourselves.  He says that what makes us rich before God is not what we own, but what we are. 

And how do we measure what we are?  ‘By looking at the heart’, he says, for ‘We are what the heart is’.  

Deep down, we all recognise the beauty and wonder of a noble and generous heart.  But sadly it’s not something our world encourages.

In 1945 John Steinbeck wrote a book called Cannery Row, set in a Californian fishing town.  He wrote, ‘It has always been strange to me, but the things we most admire in people – kindness, generosity, openness, honesty, understanding and feeling – are associated with failure in our system.  And those traits we detest – sharpness, greed, acquisitiveness, meanness, egotism and self-interest – are the traits of success.  And while (people) admire the quality of the first, they love the produce of the second.’

Our society encourages us to do the wrong thing.  It urges us to be greedy and selfish.  It thinks that the more we have the happier we’ll be.  But we know that’s not true, for great wealth often comes with a great sense of emptiness.  And we know that whatever we have can never last. 

Many people today turn to things like yoga, self-help gurus and ‘feel-good’ seminars to fill that void, while others seek distractions like entertainment, alcohol and drugs.

But we should ask ourselves, ‘How does it profit a man if he gains the whole world, but loses his own soul?’ (Mt.16:26).

When we die, our wealth, our honours and our fame are meaningless.  What we are, however, lasts forever.  The only riches worth accumulating are the riches of the heart.  These are the only things that truly bring satisfaction, and the only things we take to the next life. 

Let me close with a story.  A wealthy English nobleman once gave his jester a wand.  He said, ‘Keep this wand until you find a greater fool than yourself’.  The jester laughed and accepted the wand, and he used it on festive occasions.

One day, the nobleman lay dying.  He called his jester to his bedside and said, ‘I’m going on a long journey’. ‘Where to?’ asked the jester.

‘I don’t know,’ he replied. 

‘What preparations have you made for the trip?’ the jester asked.  The nobleman shrugged, ‘None at all’. 

‘Then’, the jester said, ‘take this’.  And he gave the wand back to him.

‘It belongs to you.  You’re a greater fool than I am’. [i]

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[i] Gerard Fuller, ‘Stories for all Seasons’. Twenty-Third Publications, Mystic CT, 1997:123.

On Two Family Treasures

(Gen.18:20-32; Col.2:12-14; Lk.11:1-13)

Today, let’s talk about treasure:  in fact, let’s consider two family treasures that are too often overlooked.  The first is our grandparents, who we celebrate today.

When people think of Jesus being raised as a boy, they usually only think of Mary and Joseph.  But his grandparents played a vital role, too. They were Saints Anne and Joachim, whose feast day was on Friday (26 July).

Anne and Joachim were Mary’s parents.  They knew she was a gift from God because they’d had great difficulty conceiving a child.  Their faith, patience, wisdom and love had a profound influence on Mary, and on Jesus as well. It was they who chose Mary’s husband, Joseph.  And it was their good parenting that taught Mary to be a wonderful mother. St John Damascene described them as a ‘blessed’ and ‘spotless’ couple to whom all creation is indebted.

In 2013, Pope Francis called all grandparents a ‘treasure’, and said that Anne and Joachim were part of a long chain of people who had transmitted their love for God, and expressed it in the warmth and love of family life.

‘How important grandparents are for family life,’ he said, as he stressed the importance of intergenerational dialogue, especially within the family. Children and the elderly, he said, build the future of peoples: children because they lead history forward; and the elderly because they transmit the experience and wisdom of their lives.  ‘This relationship and dialogue between generations is a treasure to be preserved and strengthened,’ he said.

But I wonder: what kind of relationship do we actually have with our elders?  

I recently saw a short film called ‘The Mailbox’ (1977).  It tells the story of an old widow named Leethe who loved her family, but they all lived some distance away.  She loved getting letters, but her children rarely ever wrote, they rarely ever called. Every day she walked to her mailbox.  Every day it was empty.

That was, until one day she did find a letter.  She was so excited. She rushed into the house to get her glasses.  But as she opened the envelope she had a heart attack and died. What was in that letter?  It was a message from Leethe’s daughter, telling her that it’s time to go into a nursing home.

Our grandparents are a treasure, and Pope Francis says the elderly are ‘like a fine vintage wine’.  ‘But’, he adds, ‘we live in a time when the elderly don’t count.  It’s unpleasant to say it’, he says, ‘but they are set aside because they’re considered a nuisance.  And yet, the elderly pass on history, doctrine and faith and they leave them to us as an inheritance.’

We owe so much to our grandparents, not least for our very existence.  They’ve played a significant role in our lives, both directly and indirectly.  And despite any flaws, we have much to thank them for.

The second family treasure I’d like to mention briefly is embedded in today’s Gospel.  It, too, is too often overlooked. It’s the Lord’s Prayer. It was given to us by Jesus, through his Apostles who had asked him to teach them how to pray.

The version we use comes from Matthew (6:9-13), and if you look closely you can see that it includes seven petitions.  In 1979 Pope St John Paul II said that everything that can and must be said to the Father is contained in those seven requests. 

He also said that there’s such simplicity in them that even a child can learn them, and also such depth that a whole life can be spent meditating on the meaning of each of them.  

In our throwaway society, it’s so easy to discard precious things.  Our grandparents are fundamental to our families and to society. They’ve given us love, encouragement and support, and they connect us with our history, heritage, culture and faith.

St. Thomas Aquinas called the Lord’s Prayer ‘the perfect prayer’ and the second century theologian Tertullian said it summarises the whole Gospel.  It binds us to our heavenly Father and to every other member of our Christian family.  But it, too, is easily overlooked.

Today, let’s combine these two great family treasures by praying for our grandparents, using the words that Jesus himself gave us:

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.  Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven.  Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.  And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. 

Amen.

On Martha and Mary

(Gen.18:1-10; Col.1:24-28; Lk.10:38-42)

Life is a struggle for many people. The daily grind of domestic chores, parenting and earning a living can be so hard.

The Spanish painter Diego Velázquez tried to capture some of this feeling of drudgery in the above painting, ‘Kitchen Scene with Christ in the House of Martha and Mary’.

It depicts an unhappy servant girl who’s in tears as she does her chores.  She’s grinding something with a mortar and pestle, while an older woman supervises her from behind.  On the table are other ingredients, waiting to be cooked. Is she perhaps preparing a garlic aioli?

Now, there’s a painting within this painting, because through the hutch on the right we can see Jesus talking with Martha and Mary.  Martha is resentful because Mary’s listening to Jesus and not helping with the chores.  But Jesus raises his left hand and tells Martha that Mary ‘has chosen the better part, and it’s not to be taken from her’.

Notice how these two scenes are linked. The older woman is pointing to the biblical story and explaining to the servant girl that she’s just like Martha.  Martha is only thinking of herself when she complains to Jesus, ‘Don’t you care that my sister has left me by myself? …tell her to help me.’  If the servant girl wants to be happy then she, too, must listen to Jesus.

Jo Fiore, one of our gifted parishioners, has taken another approach to this story of Martha and Mary and kindly penned this poem for us:

Martha hurried up the road, her thoughts on earthly things.
She was planning for the day ahead. Her mind was in a spin.
‘Mary!  Come and lend a hand! The Master’s on His way.
I’ve invited Jesus and his friends to dine with us today!

He showed how much He loved us – He showed how much He cared
When He raised our brother Lazarus and saved us from despair.
Now we’ll have a chance to thank Him on this very special day,
But we have so many things to do. There’s no time to delay!

Now look around this house and see its total disarray!
When Jesus walks in through that door, I wonder what He’ll say….
If our housework is not finished, and the meal’s not cooked just right,
And everything’s not in its place!  It fills my heart with fright!’

Mary smiled an inner smile – for she knew what He would say.
He’d say, ‘Come and listen to my words. I’m here with you today,
… For tomorrow I may not be here to teach you all I know,
My time is near at hand and to my Father I must go.’

As Mary set the table, and quietly swept the floors,
Her mind was on the Master, and not on her humble chores.
She thought of ways to honour Him, to show how much they cared.
‘I’ll anoint His feet with precious oils, and wipe them with my hair.’

When Jesus came, Mary sat – just as she had planned,
While Martha fussed and bothered; she just didn’t understand.
Martha moaned about her sister to the Master, but He said,
‘Worry not about these things, come and feed your soul instead.’

That day Martha learnt a lesson from our Saviour and our Lord,
She should focus her attention on her heavenly reward.
What He really only wanted was for her to make the choice
To hear the things He had to say, to listen to his voice.

Both this poem and this painting present a picture of what’s so common today: people struggling to make sense of their overly busy lives.

Most people think Martha’s doing the right thing:  working hard and preparing for her guests.  But she’s also worried and very unhappy.  Many of us are the same:  we run around exhausting ourselves and wonder what we’re missing.

The truth is that something is missing.  As human beings we’re not just flesh and blood; we’re also spiritual beings, but many of us ignore that side of our existence.  We don’t pray. We don’t reflect. We don’t tap into God’s gentle and merciful love.  (Or if we do, we don’t do it enough.)

The story of Martha and Mary teaches us that Martha would be much happier if she regularly spent some quiet time in prayer, listening to Jesus – just like Mary. 

To live our best lives, we must both work and pray.  In this story, Martha represents work and Mary represents prayer.  But they’re not in competition with each other; it’s not ‘either-or’.  Martha and Mary are sisters; they belong together, just as work and prayer belong together. 

When we combine a life of good work with a life of genuine prayer, we find ourselves living a life of loving service. 

That’s the pathway to peace, to happiness … and to sainthood.

On Loving thy Neighbour

(Deut.30:10-14; Col.1:15-20; Lk.10:25-37)

Over the last fortnight our Gospel readings have come from St Luke’s story of Jesus’ ‘Great Journey’ to Jerusalem, and a central theme has been the art of Christian discipleship. 

Two weeks ago, when he began his journey, Jesus told his disciples to be strong, to be prepared to embrace humility and discomfort, and to leave everything behind as they follow him.

Last week, when he sent 72 disciples out as missionaries, Jesus told them to travel light, to live simply, to be people of peace, and to engage deeply with the people they meet, by living as they do.

Today, Jesus tells us more about what it means to be a good disciple, by giving us the Parable of the Good Samaritan and his golden rule: to ‘Love your neighbour as yourself’.  One interesting point about this famous commandment is that most of the world’s cultures and religions share this same rule. They might express it differently, but Jews, Buddhists, Hindus and Muslims all agree that you should love your neighbour as yourself.

If it’s so widely accepted, then why did Jesus present this rule as something new?  It’s because he gave it new meaning.  The truth is that many cultures and religions define the word ‘neighbour’ very differently.

In Jesus’ time the Jewish sect, the Essenes of Qumran, believed that only those with the same religious beliefs could be their neighbour.  Another Jewish group, the Zealots, only accepted people as neighbours if they shared their nationality and ethnicity.

So, the Jews didn’t accept the Samaritans as their neighbours. They feared they might be contaminated by them, even if their shadows touched.  They had a real sense of ‘us’ and ‘them’.

What Jesus is trying to teach us in today’s Parable of the Good Samaritan is that all of humanity is one big neighbourhood.  We’re all neighbours, regardless of any differences we might have.

St Catherine of Genoa was an aristocratic woman who lived in the 15^th Century.  After her husband went bankrupt, she started working in a poor hospital.  She once prayed, ‘Lord, you say I should love my neighbour, but I can love no one but you’. 

But God replied to her, saying, ‘Everybody who loves me loves what I love’.  What he means here is that if God loves everyone, no matter what, then we should do the same.

So, who is my neighbour?  Anyone and everyone, without exception.

One thing that sets saints apart is the way they’re prepared to suffer the pain of profound love for their neighbours.

In today’s parable, we can see that Jesus is the Good Samaritan who goes out of his way to help the wounded man.  At the same time, however, he’s also the wounded man lying in the street.  We know that because in Matthew 25:40, 35,  Jesus says that whatever ‘you did to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did to me …’ 

Learning to love isn’t always easy.  As so many of us know, it can be painful.  For those who have never really loved, it’s like exercising a muscle you’ve never used.  It can hurt.  But with practice it gets stronger and loving gets easier.  

One thing that sets saints apart is the way they’re prepared to suffer the pain of profound love for their neighbours.  St Vincent de Paul used to say that we should pray continually that God may give us the spirit of compassion which is truly the spirit of God.

The Polish St Maria Faustina Kowalska did just that.  She was completely devoted to God’s loving Mercy, and used to pray, ‘… O Lord, may the greatest of all divine attributes, that of your unfathomable mercy, pass through my heart and soul to my neighbour’.  

She prayed, ‘Help me, O Lord, that my eyes may be merciful, so that I may never …  judge from appearances …  Help me, that my ears may be merciful, so that I may listen to my neighbour’s needs …  Help me, that my tongue may be merciful, so that I should never speak negatively of my neighbour …  Help me, that my hands may be merciful and filled with good deeds …  Help me, that my feet may be merciful, so that I may hurry to assist my neighbour … and help me, O Lord, that my heart may be merciful so that I myself may feel all the sufferings of my neighbour…  O my Jesus, transform me into yourself, for you can do all things.’ 

May we all go and do the same.

On the Real Presence

(Gen.14:18-20; 1Cor.11:23–26; Lk.9:11-17)

Today, on Corpus Christi Sunday, we celebrate the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ.  Pope Urban IV established this feast in 1264, shortly after a Eucharistic miracle occurred at Bolsena in Italy.

In 1263, a pilgrim priest travelling from Prague to Rome stopped at Bolsena to say Mass.  He’d been having doubts about his calling and had asked God to strengthen his faith.  During the consecration, when he raised the host up high, it started to bleed onto the altar cloth.  Today that blood-stained cloth is kept in the Cathedral in Orvieto.  I saw it in 2008.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus says ‘My flesh is real food and my blood is real drink. He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood lives in me and I live in him’ (Jn.6:55-56).  He’s not speaking figuratively. He’s not speaking metaphorically. He’s speaking literally.

The Jews couldn’t understand it (Jn.6:60), and many people today can’t understand it either.  For how can the bread and wine at Communion possibly be the body and blood of Christ?  It doesn’t look any different.

Well, to teach us what really happens and to encourage our faith, every now and then God sends us a Eucharistic miracle.  Over the years there have been dozens of them, across 22 countries. [i] 

In their book ‘Unseen’ (2013), Ron Tesoriero and Lee Han explain three of these miracles. [ii]  The first was in 1996, in Buenos Aires, when Pope Francis was a bishop.  A priest found a host in a candle-stand.  He put the host in a bowl of water to dissolve it, and then he placed it in the tabernacle.  Eight days later the host had turned red, with something like blood oozing from it.

Pope Francis asked for photos and in 2004 a sample was sent to New York for forensic examination.  Several scientists investigated it, without knowing where it came from.

They identified the red substance as human heart tissue.  The presence of white blood cells indicated that the heart had suffered trauma.  It also indicated that the person was alive when the heart tissue was collected.

The second Eucharistic miracle was in 2008, in Sokolka, Poland.  A consecrated host was accidentally dropped at Mass.  It was also placed in water and locked in a safe.

Days later, a nun found that the host had developed a red mark on it.  It was sent for analysis, and again they found human heart tissue. The damaged myocardial fibres indicated that that heart had suffered agony in the form of painful spasms, and again the tissue was from a live heart.

The third miracle was in Lanciano, Italy, in 750 AD.  As the priest consecrated the bread and wine at Mass, they literally turned into flesh and blood. That flesh and blood are still there today in a reliquary in the Church of St. Legontian.

In 1971, these relics were examined by scientists at the Arezzo Hospital and the University of Siena.  These specimens, over 1200 years old, were still fresh.  The investigators found heart tissue, as well as the rare blood type AB.  

Interestingly, the NASA scientists who tested the Shroud of Turin in 1978 also found blood type AB.

When Jesus says, ‘This is my body, this is my blood’, he’s not kidding.  He’s literally giving us his Sacred Heart.  He’s giving us himself.

St Thomas Aquinas taught that when we approach the Eucharist, four of our five senses fail us.  He said that what we receive at Communion looks, smells, feels and tastes like ordinary unleavened bread.  But clearly it’s not.

At that moment, he said, we can only trust one of our senses: our hearing.  That’s when we believe Jesus when he says, ‘this is my body, this is my blood’. 

In John chapter 6, Jesus tells us thirteen times that we must eat his flesh and drink his blood.  He also says ‘whoever eats me will draw life from me (and) … anyone who eats this bread will live forever’ (Jn.6:57-58).

Now, as Christians we don’t have to believe in miracles – not even when they’re officially recognised.  We’re free to make up our own minds.  But Jesus does want us to have faith.  That’s why he encourages us with these signs.

Jesus is truly present in the Eucharist.  He’s right here, right now, offering us his love, his healing and his Real Presence. 

Jesus is always here for us when we come to Mass.

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[i] http://www.therealpresence.org/eucharst/mir/engl_mir.htm

[ii] Ron Tesoriero & Lee Han, Unseen.  Published by Ron Tesoriero, Kincumber: 2013.

On the Union of Love

(Prov.8:22-31; Rom.5:1-5; Jn.16:12-15)

Some people love a good mystery.  Pope Leo XIII once said that the greatest mystery of all is the Holy Trinity, for how can one God possibly be made up of three divine persons?

The only reason we know about the Trinity is because God told us about it himself.  The Bible doesn’t use the word ‘Trinity’, but its meaning is clearly there.  The Bible often refers to the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit – the three persons in one God.

At Pentecost, Jesus said to his disciples, ‘if you love me, you’ll keep my commandments, and I’ll ask the Father, and he’ll give you another Advocate (the Holy Spirit) to be with you always’ (Jn.14:15).  

Jesus also told his apostles to go and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit (Mt.28:19).

Jesus often spoke about his Father and the Spirit, but he didn’t say everything.  In today’s Gospel, he says he has much more to say, but it’s too much for his disciples. He then adds that the Spirit, when he comes, will guide them towards the truth.

And that’s just what happened.  Early on, the Holy Spirit guided the Church towards the doctrine of the Trinity, which is what we affirm every time we say the Nicene or Apostles’ Creed.  That’s where we say we ‘believe in one God, the Father almighty, Creator of heaven and earth, and in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit …’   

Many people have tried to explain the Trinity. St. Patrick talked about the three leaves of the shamrock, with each leaf representing one of the three persons. But really, our ordinary human language and our limited experience make it impossible to precisely explain who God is. 

The Jesuit Fr Anthony de Mello said that explaining the Trinity is like describing the colour green to someone who’s been blind since birth.  God is always far greater and much more than anything we could ever think of.

But there is something we do know.  The thing that unites the three persons in one God is love. 

God is three persons permanently united in love. He wants us to join that union of love.

The Father and the Son love each other so completely that they are one. And the love between the Father and the Son is so strong that it’s a powerful force in itself – and that’s the Holy Spirit.

So, what does all this mean for us?

Well, firstly, we should remember St Paul’s words:  we are the Body of Christ. God became incarnate through Jesus Christ, and he continues to make himself incarnate through us, his disciples. We are now Jesus’ hands, feet and eyes.  It’s through you and me that God now delivers his love into the world.

Secondly, God gives us the model of the Trinity because he wants us to copy it in our own lives.  Just as the three persons in one God are permanently united in love, God wants us to experience that same perfect love in our relationships, in our marriages, in our families and in our communities.  He wants us all to be permanently united in perfect love.  And such divine love is never passive.  It can never be contained.  If we choose to live in perfect love, just like the Trinity, then our love will grow naturally to include others.  It will transform the world. 

That’s what God wants of us.

And finally, God the Father doesn’t want to leave us where we are.  We’ve all been created in his image, and he wants us to join him.  That’s why he sent us his Son and his Spirit.  They’re calling each of us to join them in that same perfect love – so that the divine three then expands to become four … five … six … seven …  That’s also what God wants.

We can’t do these things on our own. To succeed, we need the creativity of the Father, the loving heart of the Son, and the power of the Holy Spirit. They’re all available to each of us when we open our hearts to receive them.

So, whenever we make the sign of the Cross and whenever we pray, let’s remember that God is three persons permanently united in love. 

He wants us to join that union of love. 

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end.  Amen.

On the Gifts of the Spirit

[Acts 2:1-11; Gal.5:16-25; Jn.15:26-27; 16:12-15]

Today, as we celebrate the Feast of Pentecost, we also celebrate the Church’s birthday.  Happy Birthday!

Something we associate with birthdays is gifts, and happily Pentecost’s no exception.

After Jesus returns to his Father by ascending into heaven, the disciples go into hiding.  On Pentecost Sunday they’re huddled in the Upper Room, when suddenly a great noise like a mighty wind rushes through the house.  A tongue of fire rests on each disciple, and they’re all filled with the gifts of the Holy Spirit.

The Spirit they receive is the same powerful Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead, and in that instant the disciples’ lives are changed completely.  Instead of cowering in fear, they walk bravely into the streets of Jerusalem and start telling everyone the truth about Jesus.  And despite the differing languages, everyone in the crowd can understand.  That day some 3,000 people become Christians and the Church is born.

Now, the Holy Spirit’s work didn’t stop with Jesus and his Apostles.  Today the Holy Spirit continues to work throughout the world in many different ways, transforming the lives of many people (1Cor.12:4-11).  For each of us, our own personal Pentecost started with the Sacrament of Baptism, and this gift was strengthened through the Sacrament of Confirmation.

Through these two sacraments, the Holy Spirit gives us the same special graces he gave the Apostles.  At Baptism we receive the gifts of faith, hope and charity.  At Confirmation these graces are strengthened by the gifts of wisdom, understanding, right judgment, courage, knowledge, reverence and fear of the Lord (or wonder and awe).

These graces, these spiritual strengths, are exactly what the Apostles need to get going. They’re also exactly what we need if we’re to live our lives to the full.

St Thomas Aquinas described these spiritual gifts as being like the sails of a boat. Just as sails catch the wind and move the boat forward, so these gifts catch or receive the impulses that come from the Holy Spirit.  They drive us onward, helping us to love God and helping us to live as good disciples, doing what he wants us to do.

St Thomas also described these gifts as ‘perfections of man’, through which we become amenable ‘to the promptings of God’. 

The Spirit can only unleash his power if we allow him to change us from within.

But we’re only amenable to God’s promptings if we play our part.  If we’ve forgotten our gifts of the Spirit, if we’ve packed up those sails and put them away, our boat isn’t going anywhere, no matter how hard the Spirit’s wind blows.

Three years ago, Pope Francis said, ‘Man is like a traveller who, crossing the deserts of life, has a thirst for living water, gushing and fresh, capable of quenching his deep desire for light, love, beauty and peace.  He said this living water is the Holy Spirit, which Jesus pours into our hearts.

But only last week, Pope Francis commented that the Holy Spirit seems to be a ‘luxury prisoner’ in the hearts of many Christians.  He said that too often the Spirit is someone who’s welcomed to stay, but he’s not allowed to move us or push us forward.

Pope Francis added that the Holy Spirit is the one who moves the Church, who works in the Church and in our hearts.  The Spirit does everything, knows everything, reminds us what Jesus said and can explain all about Jesus. But too many Christians don’t understand the Spirit’s role.  Instead they’ve simply reduced the Christian life to a code of ‘morals and ethics’.

Pope Francis said that the faith is not just an ethical life: it’s an encounter with Jesus Christ.  It’s an invitation to a personal relationship with God himself, but to accept this invitation we must open up our hearts to the Holy Spirit.

‘This is what we must do’, he said. We must ‘think of the Spirit and talk to him.’

In 2008, in Sydney, Pope Benedict XVI described the Holy Spirit as the spirit of God’s love.  He can perform miracles.  But the Spirit can only unleash his power if we allow him to change us from within.

We need to allow the Spirit to work his magic in us, transforming us, just as he transformed those fishermen and tax collectors 2,000 years ago.

If we do allow the Holy Spirit to work his magic in us, we’ll then start reaping the fruits that St Paul spoke about in Galatians 5:22: ‘love, joy, peace, generosity, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control’.

On the Kindling of a Flame

(Acts.1:1-11; Heb.9:24-28, 10:19-23; Lk.24:46-53)

The Greek philosopher, Socrates, used to say that education isn’t the filling of a vessel; rather, it’s the kindling of a flame.

Ten years ago I was in Italy, travelling by train from Florence to Pisa.  I was at a crossroads in my life and took this opportunity to pray, asking Jesus, ‘Please tell me what you want me to do with my life.  Tell me, and I’ll do it.’

Over and over again I repeated those words, and suddenly, to my great surprise, I got an answer.  I heard Jesus say with firm voice, ‘I want you to learn’.

Those words completely changed my life.  When I returned home I enrolled in a theology degree and I applied to join the Permanent Diaconate.  Ever since then I’ve been learning all I can about Jesus and the Christian faith.  

I know from personal experience that the learning God wants me to do hasn’t just filled an empty vessel.  It’s actually lit a fire that’s still burning inside me.

Part of my learning included a course on preaching.  At one point I asked the lecturer, ‘If a congregation includes people of different ages, to whom should I pitch my preaching?’  His answer surprised me.  He said, ‘to a 14 year old’.  When I asked why, he said that’s because the average adult Catholic hasn’t grown much in faith since they were in middle high school. He said their understanding of the Church is limited to what they learnt up to the age of 14. Most haven’t bothered to learn any more since then.

What do you think?  Do you agree?

Pope St John Paul II used to worry that too many Catholics really don’t understand their own faith.  He encouraged everyone to do something every day to strengthen their faith – to read the Bible, to learn about the saints, to pray, to go to Mass.  The important thing, he said, is to keep learning and growing.

He practised what he preached.  Every day from 10 to 11pm, before going to bed, he read books or articles he’d set aside during the day.  Every Tuesday he invited 5 or 6 experts in various fields – theology, philosophy, sociology, politics, culture or science – to talk and have lunch with him. 

He made a point of understanding not only his own faith, but many other things as well, including physics and history.  He believed in lifelong learning. 

In Luke’s Gospel today, Jesus says farewell to his disciples.  He’s finished his work on earth and it’s time to return to his Father. He’s taught his disciples all they need to know, and now it’s up to them to continue his work.  He knows they can’t do it on their own, so he promises to send the Spirit to help them.

Becoming a Catholic is a lifetime process. It’s not a one-off event. It’s a continuous process of change.

Now, I wonder how much confidence Jesus had in his disciples, because earlier, in Luke 18:8, he asks the question, ‘when the Son of Man returns, will he find faith on Earth?’  He must have worried about it, just as John Paul II did. 

Today, many people have given up learning about their faith. They think they know enough already.  But like everything in life, we only get out what we put in. 

In his book ‘Talent is Never Enough’ (2007), John Maxwell says ‘the greatest enemy of learning is knowing’.  What he means is that sometimes when we know a little bit, we think we know it all.  But the problem is that when we think we know it all, we usually prove that we don’t.

The American writer Flannery O’Connor (1925-64) used to say that becoming a Catholic is a lifetime process.  It’s not a one-off event.  It’s a continuous process of change in the way we see ourselves and the way we live our lives. It’s a never-ending process of conversion, and it relies on lifelong learning.

Of course, every learner needs a teacher.  St Therese of Lisieux called Jesus the Teacher of teachers.  She said, ‘… though I’ve never heard him speak, I know he’s within me, always guiding and inspiring me; and just when I need them, lights … break in upon me’.

The Irish poet W.B. Yeats agreed with Socrates.  He said ‘education isn’t just the filling of a pail, it’s the lighting of a fire’. 

Henry Ford said that learning keeps you young.

So, let’s honour our families, ourselves and Jesus himself by becoming the best people we possibly can be.

Both Jesus, and our families, would be proud to know that we’re lifelong learners, filled with fire and passion for the truth, and living life to the full.

It’s time to start learning what we really need to learn.

On Unconditional Peace

(Acts 15:1-2, 22-29; Rev.21:10-14, 22-23; Jn.14:23-29)

In John’s Gospel today, Jesus is talking with his disciples just after the Last Supper.  He knows he’s going to die and that his disciples are scared and confused.  So he says to them, ‘Don’t be troubled or afraid … my peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you.  A peace the world cannot give, this is my gift to you’.

The peace Jesus offers us isn’t the same as worldly peace.  Worldly peace typically is temporary; it’s fragile and it’s conditional.  In many places, peace is simply the absence of trouble and war, and it often depends on fear and armed force to enforce it.  Such peace usually has conditions attached, and it only lasts while these conditions are kept.  

That’s not genuine peace.

Jesus’ peace is different.  It’s unconditional; it’s an eternal and spiritual gift, and there are no strings attached. 

So how can we get some of this peace? 

Well, the first thing to note is that the peace of Christ doesn’t come from any human effort.  Some people think that all they have to do is properly organise the world around them, and then they’ll have peace.  But true peace isn’t external, it’s internal.  It’s not based on order or control.  It’s not based on fear or strength.  True peace is based on love and surrender.  It’s about letting go.

Jesus’ peace is like the calm at the bottom of the ocean.  Storms may be raging above, but there’s a wonderful calm deep below the surface.

The true peace of Jesus is a free gift that’s only available to those who have a close, loving relationship with him.  When you genuinely ask Jesus to enter into your heart and life, God’s peace will come flooding into your soul.

The second thing to note is that apart from any peace for ourselves, each of us also has a responsibility to help spread peace wherever we may be.

Think about this.  How much peace do we really bring into the lives of others?  Some people live under a delusion.  They think they’re living kind, considerate and sensible lives, but really they’re doing just the opposite.  Their actions and attitudes work against peace.  They’re actually making others unhappy and they’re unaware of the difficulties they’re causing.

Sometimes we think we’re doing the right thing, but we’re not.  Sometimes we miss the obvious.

When Jesus spoke about peace, the word he used was ‘shalom’ which means much more than peace as we know it.

Consider the case of Alfred Nobel.  He was a wealthy Swedish chemical engineer and inventor in the 1800s.  He spent much of his life developing things like artificial silk and synthetic rubber and leather.  He was very successful and fabulously wealthy.  He had more than 90 factories, and laboratories in 20 countries, and he held 355 patents.

In 1866 he invented dynamite.  He named it after dynamis, the Greek word for power.  But he didn’t expect it to be used for war.  He thought it would be used for peaceful purposes like construction – blasting rock and building tunnels and canals.  But he was wrong, and in 1870 it was used in the Franco-Prussian War … and in every other war since then.

In 1888, Alfred’s older brother Ludvig died.  A French newspaper thought it was Alfred himself who had died, and it published his obituary instead. It described him as the ‘merchant of death’ and said he’d become ‘rich by finding ways to kill more people faster than ever before’.

Alfred was horrified.  He didn’t want his life to be remembered that way, so he decided to change it.  To relieve his conscience, he began supporting the international peace movement, and when he died in 1896, he left most of his wealth to fund the Nobel Prize, the award for scientists and writers who work to foster peace.

Alfred Nobel said that every person should have the chance to correct his own obituary midstream and to write a new one.

What about you?  What would you like your obituary to say?  Are you a peacemaker?  Or do you need to change the way you live?

When Jesus spoke about peace, the word he actually used was ‘shalom’, which means much more than peace as we know it.  ‘Shalom’ is a very rich Hebrew expression which speaks of completeness, wholeness, fulfilment and everything in life being as it should be. 

This kind of peace isn’t a place.  It’s a loving relationship with God, and this is the free gift that Jesus offers us today. 

‘My peace I give to you,’ says Jesus. 

Let’s accept this wonderful gift with a warm, open heart and very grateful hands.