who feeds your soul?

Homily
Thursday of the 3rd Week of Easter AII
+Pius V, pope
St. Lawrence Catholic Campus Center at the University of Kansas
30 April 2020
AMDG +JMJ +m

The hardest work of my entire life is simply to believe.  To believe that I am loved more than I want to be loved.  To receive as gift more than I could ever choose. To be drawn by God more than I could ever grasp for him.

The greatest victory of my life will come through faith and receptivity.  For Jesus defeated sin and death in just this way.  The victory of Lepanto, orchestrated by St. Pius X, was won not through weapons, but through the rosary and adoration.

The hardest work of our lives is to pray, and to be drawn by the Father, to receive what we do not dare to ask, and to be fed in a way that will never perish.

Our Lady of the Rosary is the first of our race to be redeemed through prayer and receptivity.  Her daily rosary is thus powerful in disposing us for eternal victory.

are you conservative or liberal?

Ferverino
St. James Academy Senior Class
Zoom Meeting during COVID-19
29 April 2020
AMDG +JMJ +m

Are you a conservative or a liberal?  How you see yourself probably influenced what college you have chosen .

KU where I minister is known as the most liberal school in Kansas!  Some say in political terms it's a blue dot in a red state - not a bad description for a school whose colors are crimson and blue.

But I'm not asking this question through the political Democrat/Republican framework, but from a spiritual one.  I'm asking if at heart you're tame or wild?

I love the prodigal son as a parable for how to prepare for college.  The younger son is a spiritual liberal - I'm tired of all this stuff crammed down my throat and I can't wait to get away and do my own thing.  The older son is a spiritual conservative.  I'm going to stick with what I know and stay in my bubble.

You probably relate more to one or the other as you prepare for college.  And as you may have guessed, most people judge the conservatives as good Catholics and the liberals as bad Catholics. But it's not that simple.  In fact both the older and younger sons both did a terrible job with the transition to college.  Both end up as good as dead at a time when they were made to become more alive - the elder son on the inside, and the younger son on the outside.

What I propose to you is to be both conservative and liberal!  Why are you going to college? The younger son wants to party.  The older son just needs a job.  Neither are high enough goals!  You go to college to become fully alive as a person!  And to do that you have to be both conservative and liberal.

Again, just to be conservative is to be afraid.  Just to be liberal is to be reckless.  You have to be both to get the most out of college!

You have to be conservative, receiving this awesome worldview that you have been raised in with gratitude.  Realizing that your life is a gift with a great responsibility.  And that your ability has an origin and a destiny.  And that your freedom works best when it's related to goodness, truth, beauty and unity.

You have to be liberal, using the worldview you have received not as a bubble that provides safety but as a launching pad for you to explode into a new universe of learning, relationships and experiences, and to become more than you thought possible.

Even the most conservative Catholic colleges have a robust liberal arts program, so that by being both conservative and liberal students have the best chance to come alive!  In fact, the Church started universities so that God would be glorified by students learning and growing and become more like Him and fully alive!

To be too conservative is to never get outside your comfort zone while in college because you're afraid.  To be too liberal is to say my life is just my own and I can do with it whatever I want - it's to throw away the relationships and meaning that have been given to you as a launching pad for you to become the next saint!

The Church started her first universities to be the most liberal and conservative places - why?  So that they would be places where students would come alive.  The Church is here to guide you as you grow and learn in this great adventure.  The elder son and the younger son didn't have the right approaches.  But the Father loved them through their growth, like a good Father.

So also we're here to be a good family to you in this most exciting time of your life.
I hope you consider the Church to be your family, and we can't wait to have you at KU!

is seeing believing?

Homily
Wednesday of the 3rd Week of Easter AII
29 April 2020
+St. Catherine of Siena
St. Lawrence Catholic Campus Center at the University of Kansas
AMDG +jmj +m

Is seeing believing?

Jesus says no..
Do you believe because you have seen me Thomas?
Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed!
Jesus teaches that seeing is seeing.
One has to move from seeing to believing.

In the Bread of Life discourse, Jesus says people see bread but not him.
I am the bread, He says.
Now that they see Him, He says that do not believe.

So seeing is just seeing.
Seeing is not believing.
Signs invite faith, but never compel faith.

My Easter invitation is to go from seeing to believing.
To see the Resurrection, to see the Eucharist,
and through these signs to believe that I too rise with Christ.

There's more space than ever this Easter
for me to move from seeing to believing.

what's the hardest job?

Homily
Monday in the 3rd Week of Easter AII
St. Lawrence Catholic Campus Center at the University of Kansas
27 April 2020

What's the hardest job I've ever had?

Working hogs jumps to mind for me.  Messy. Smelly.  Loud.  Exhausting.

But on second thought, it's not the hardest job I've ever had.

Trusting, Surrendering.  Receiving.  Praying.
These are a lot harder.

I'd much rather wrestle a hog than wrestle with God.
It's not even close.
And not just because I like bacon a lot.

Faith is the hardest work.
To believe that God is trustworthy.
Jesus told his new followers that this alone is the first and most necessary work.

His belief will eventually cost him his blood.

It's much easier for me to start with my to-do list.
And to pretend that everything is more urgent and harder.

But faith is.

Jesus' first signs were yummy and easy.
His ultimate signs are harder.
The cross.  The empty grave.  The Eucharist.

What am I supposed to do?
Believe in the One whom He has sent.

what do you not understand?

Homily
3rd Sunday of Easter AII
26 April 2020
St. Lawrence Catholic Campus Center at the University of Kansas

So what.
Jesus Christ is Risen.
So what.

I don't often do sermon series, but I'm going to pick up where I left off last week.  Let's call is the so what Easter series.

The Easter announcement has been made - He is Risen!
Thomas says - I doubt it.  The disciples today respond by walking in the wrong direction.

He is Risen. So what.

On Easter Sunday I professed through the renewal of my baptismal promises the Resurrection to be the most mysterious, dramatic and profound and true words that have ever been or could ever be spoken. - words that change everything.  And I meant every word I said.

But this does not mean that I have any understanding whatsoever on what difference this truth makes in my real life. 

Neither did Thomas. Neither did the disciples on the road to Emmaus.

The grave is empty.  It's true.  So what.  It doesn't automatically mean I know how to live differently!

The pivotal question for this week is - what do you not understand?
My answer is the same as last week.
What do you most doubt?  The Resurrection!
What do you not understand?  The Resurrection!

It's precisely because the Resurrection is the most dramatic, profound, mysterious and TRUE event in human history that it's too big to be swallowed whole. 

Jesus knew this.  Even though the Resurrection is the moment that creation has been groaning for since the fall, and the most prophesied event ever, he knows that I couldn't and wouldn't be ready to take it all in.  So after chastising the disciples a little for their slowness of heart, He has mercy on their 'so what.'  I pray He has mercy on my so what.  .

Hey Jesus - you were just slaughtered and thrown into a hole.  What's on your bucket list when you get out?   Good question!  "Oh, I don't know - I thought I would hang out with two nobodys going nowhere.'

You might recognize this Jesus - aka Divine Mercy.  The same guy who was born and died poor, naked and vulnerable, who preferred to eat with tax collectors and prostitutes, who leaves the 99 to go after the one - of course that same guy would waste his first Resurrected day with two disciples going the wrong direction.  That's what divine mercy does.  In the quest to give all of itself, it always wastes itself on those who least deserve it.  This Easter Jesus is definitely the same guy!

The Risen Christ is patient.  He gives the disciples time and space to explore the new reality of the Resurrection. His Church tries to imitate Him - giving us 50 days per year to bite off a chunk of this central mystery of our faith.

The Easter time is long conversation then - much longer than a one and done, winner take all, black and white, zero sum right or wrong game of Easter Sunday.  No, it's 50 days of trying to answer our 'so what' - of trying to understand how this mystery contains the power for me to live differently.

It's 50 days of rolling up my sleeves and getting my hands dirty like Thomas.  It's a long conversation that involves at least a 7-mile walk and a dinner that lasts until I see someone differently forever.

Thus, I profess the Resurrection as my greatest truth at the same time I admit it's the thing I least understand.  My I believe and so what go together.  Jesus is more than ok with that.

The Resurrection is a critical, pivotal truth that demands a decision.  Yes to all that.

But it's no less a grace that builds on the humanity of how I naturally learn and grow.  It's also a mystery that lies at the heart of how I'm writing this chapter of my own story. The Resurrection a moment that patiently infect the hours and days of my real life. 

But most of all, the Resurrection is a new marriage bringing together the heavenly and earthly dimensions of reality.  The Resurrection is not a golden ticket or a magic carpet ride gaining access to a heavenly galaxy far far away.  No, it's a down to earth, lifelong conversation between me and the Risen Christ, consummated in the my Easter duty to receive the Eucharist.  The Resurrection is a relationship inviting exploration and understanding of my real life.

It's all possible if I never assume that I understand the Resurrection.  I must never settle for an Easter faith that is merely a vain hope escaping my lips from the outside.  No, my Easter faith must be ever more an expression of my feeble understanding transforming my real life - a new way of life that only makes sense in light of the most mysterious, profound and dramatic truth - the Resurrection.

Feel free to say so what, before you profess again - I believe.

are you a part of Chiefs kingdom?

Homily
Saturday of the 2nd Week of Easter AII
25 April 2020
St. Lawrence Catholic Center at the University of Kansas

Am I a part of the Chiefs kingdom?

Sorry for the sports reference.  But the only live sports for the last month just happened -the NFL draft.  The Super Bowl Champion Chiefs have drafted three new players for the Kingdom. 

Let's admit it.  The Chiefs winning the Super Bowl is about the only thing that has gone well in 2020.  What a year already - sheesh!

I didn't watch the draft - only clips of the players being video-called by the Chiefs announcing the good news. That they are noticed. That they are appreciated.  That their name is known.  That they are chosen. That they are valuable.  That they have a new family.  That they know where to go next.  That they have a role.  That their hard work paid off. That they are needed.  Oh yeah . . and that they're going to make a lot of money playing football.

It's fun these days to see dreams come true.  There's not enough of that happening right now.

But putting Chiefs football to the side, how exciting is it for me to get the call?
If my faith is stale right now, it's probably because I don't hear the call.

The Easter mystery makes all things new.  This includes my vocation - Easter is a time to hear the call of Jesus anew.  All the apostles were called anew by the Risen Christ - St. Mark, whose feast we mark (pun-intended) today, announces this greatest apostolic calling of all time - the Great Commission, in the conclusion to His Gospel. 

The great commission is spoken to me this Easter no less dramatically than the first Easter.  What is my calling?  What is my mission? What problem have I been put on earth to solve?  What is my why?

The Risen Christ knows me and delights in me and chooses to need me.  As the Father has sent me, so I send you.

Jesus calls me by name.  Every Christian.  Everyone is valuable.  Everyone is needed.  Everyone has an essential role.

How exciting it is to be part of the ultimate draft, when I know my name will be called.  And to win a victory and build a kingdom that cannot tarnish or fade?

Today we honor one of Jesus' chief disciples -  St. Mark - evangelist and martyr - for making the Hall of Fame and showing us the way.  He heard his name called -and He answered. Simple as that!

Who's next on this Easter day?  The apostolic call is ever new - am I a part of Chiefs kingdom?

Petitions

For the Church, that she may rise with Christ this Easter and listen to His voice as He renews and calls forth new vocations in the Church,

For the world, that those who do not feel called or needed may listen for the role Christ has in His heart for them,

For the mission of St. Lawrence, that the many vocations heard and answered here may inspire a new wave of vocations to the priesthood, religious life and the sacrament of marriage,

For an end to the coronavirus pandemic, and for protection, healing and consolation for all those in harm's way, we pray to the Lord,

For the prudence to know how to live with integrity, courage, obedience and faith in the circumstances besetting mankind,

For all bishops that apostolic zeal, charity and courage may fill their hearts,

For those for whom we have promised to pray, and those who have asked us to pray for them, and for those who have no one to pray for them, and for our beloved dead and those near death, and for the lonely, sick, discouraged and doubtful, that the Lord may visit and refresh the souls of all those in need, 

do I lock myself up?

Homily
Wednesday of the 2nd Week of Easter AII
22 April 2020
St. Lawrence Catholic Campus Center at the University of Kansas

Do I lock myself up?

The disciples used to lock themselves up voluntarily!
Now nothing can keep them locked in.
Not even the ultimate stay at home order - a jail!

I'm not telling you to disobey the authorities.
Just not to lock yourself up or in.

There is a way for me to move during COVID.
The Easter move for today is from darkness to light.
Nothing can stop someone who chooses to leave the locked room of privacy, control, fear and self-preservation.  Light shines through transparency, vulnerability. and self-gift.

Don't lock yourself up or in.
Move from darkness to light.
That's today's Easter move.

what if your stuff was stolen?

Homily
Tuesday of the 2nd Week of Easter AII
21 April 2020
St. Lawrence Catholic Campus Center at the University of Kansas

If you see someone wearing my coat, smoking Malboro's and reading St. Augustine's confessions, call the police!

These are my favorite lines from the last two days.
One of our FOCUS missionaries was robbed.
She's fine.
I can't believe that she has a sense of humor about it.

Oh, and just to clear her name.  It is her coat and copy of St. Augustine's Confessions, and a bunch of other stuff as well.
But not her Marlboro's.
Whoever took her stuff was a smoker.
Those are the clues of the crime.

What is touching me is her sense of humor about it.
She is detached from her stuff.
More than I am.
I can learn from her again that everything is a gift, and everything we have is only good insofar as it frees us to make a gift of ourselves.
Blessed are the poor.
I can only claim to be a Christian insofar as I am detached from my things.

It's how we will get through this economic disaster together.
Not through stimulus checks and bailouts, though those may help.
But because we hold life and its gifts in common.
We will look after each other.
Our security lies in nothing else.
What happens if we don't?
Panic, crime, chaos, fear.

Ultimately, it's not about communism vs. capitalism.
It's about being children of the Spirit.
Free to live not only horizontally but even moreso vertically.

Those children who are trustworthy in small matters will be given great responsibilities in the kingdom of heaven..

But along your way, if you see a nice coat and a great book and a pack of Marlboro's, call the police.

when's the last time you surprised someone?

Homily
Monday of the 2nd Week of Easter AII
St. Lawrence Catholic Campus Center at the University of Kansas
20 April 2020

How surprising am I?

The Church has started her countdown to launch. 
It's scheduled for high noon.
It's Pentecost.

The disciples will be more surprising and exciting
than the latest trick shot
or dance on tick tock.

Born from above,
they're like the wind.

The liturgy, sacraments
are the groundwork for launch.
They set the stage.
The Holy Spirit takes it from here.

Spontaneous acts of heroic virtue,
surprising generosity,
unprecedented conversions,
and a new faith to see the signs.

Marked most of all by joy.
The fruit of the Spirit

what do you doubt?

Homily
Sunday in the Octave of Easter
Divine Mercy Sunday
19 April 2020
St. Lawrence Catholic Center at the University of Kansas

Jesus Christ is Risen!  He is truly Risen! Alleluia!  Alleluia!
So what.

Don't worry, I haven't lost my faith one week into Easter.  The Resurrection is still the one thing I know to be true out of everything I know to be true.  These words are the most mysterious, dramatic, profound and true words that have ever been or could ever be spoken in human history.  They change everything about the meaning of life and human destiny.  Martyrs are dying for this mystery even today.  I professed them with all I had through my baptismal promises on Easter Sunday.

So what.
Jesus Christ is truly Risen!
So what.

That's today's Easter move, and it's a big  one.  Thomas's skepticism and empiricism pays off in spades.  He is the patron saint of today's 'nones' - those who will not be told what they should believe by someone else. 

But here's the difference - he is not a lazy none.

No, he's a hero because he doesn't check out.  He shows up.  And his skepticism is one that not afraid to probe for the truth.  As a result, he gets to feel more than the other disciples.  He gets to feel the Resurrection - what wounds redeemed by love feel like!  Thomas is my hero.  He shows me that my Easter faith can come from a deeper place - where I most fear and doubt. 

This week's pivotal question is:  what do you doubt?

This question is easy peasy today!
I doubt the Resurrection!
Yes, you heard me.
Following, Thomas, I doubt the Resurrection.

For it's precisely because this mystery is the most profound, dramatic and true event in human history that I must explore it, test it, wrestle with it, with all that I have.  Thomas keeps digging, literally, where the other disciples stop.  I can't stop digging!  The Resurrection either becomes more or less true at every turn in my life.  It only becomes more true if I'm like Thomas - exploring the places where I am most trapped by doubt and fear TODAY with the Risen Christ.  That's Divine Mercy!  That's my Easter duty.  That's what makes this Easter new!

Doubts and fears are never something to be put away.  Jesus says to Thomas - let's engage!  They're always going to be there, so let's deal with them.  Let's probe and face them - together.  The wounds are never removed.  They must be redeemed.  Again, the wounds, his and mine, are never removed.  They are redeemed.

The result if I dare to follow Thomas is an Easter faith that never barely escapes my lips on the outside.  It's a faith that wells up from my wounds on the inside.

That's Divine Mercy.  John Paul II not only proclaimed this Feast in 2000.  In 2005, he showed us exactly how to do it.  His open wounds were there for the whole world to see. We watched him suffer - where his doubts and fears were greatest.  And he allowed the Risen Christ to fill him and us with Divine Mercy.  He died on the eve on this great feast that he gave us.  Remarkable.

My friends, the Resurrection is never a magic trick that allows us to pretend to know more than we do or that everything will be ok.  It's the central mystery that engages our real lives, moreso every day.

Blessed am I, says Jesus, who get to encounter this Divine Mercy in a mystical and sacramental way, seeing less than Thomas.  Yet, he will always be my hero.  For because of Him, I know that Jesus wants me to keep digging, so that I never skip His invitation to put my finger in the nailmarks and my hand in his side.

Only then will the truth of Easter come from Divine Mercy, where he has truly healed my wounds.

So that's why today's Easter move is so important.
If I'm going to doubt anything, let me doubt the one thing that most matters.
I don't want my Easter faith to be superficial, passive, boring, innocuous, and nothing new.
Let my Easter faith be something that I have the honesty and guts to doubt.
Jesus Christ is truly Risen!
So what.

do a 180 in your real life

Homily
Friday in the Octave of Easter
17 April 2020
St. Lawrence Catholic Campus Center at the University of Kansas

One surprise after another.
The Risen Christ is popping up anywhere and everywhere.

First in a garden.
Then on a road.
Next in the locked room.
Now at the Sea. 

He's not mad the boys went back to fishing.
He told them to meet him where it all began.
For the resurrection is not an escape from real life.
It's moving from death to life right where we are.

Easter invites us to live our real life differently.
From the left side to the right.
From empty to full.
Right where we are.

what is your Easter duty?

Homily
Thursday in the Octave of Easter
16 April 2020
St. Lawrence Catholic Center at the University of Kansas

Jesus is Risen!  He is truly Risen!  Alleluia!
Shocker, right?
No, of course you've heard it before.
You've heard it a million times.

The disciples had plenty of advance notice for today's visit from the Risen Christ.
All the prophets prepared them.
Jesus foretold it.
They had at least two eyewitness reports that he was alive.
Surely they were ready.
Nope. They were scared to death.
They fell apart.

Jesus had a right to ask why.

I can tell him why.
The scariest thing imaginable
is someone who comes back from death to life.
It's always enough to scare us from life to death.
And that's the point.

For the Resurrection is an entirely new way to live.
We can't begin if we aren't first scared to death.

The good thing is we don't have to imagine this encounter with the Risen Christ.
It's here. Right in front of us.
We've been told of it a thousand times.
It's our Easter duty.
To receive the Eucharist even more intimately than the first disciples who touched his hands and sides.
It's the chance of a lifetime.
Just once to allow the Risen Christ to scare us to death.
So through his Resurrection, we can begin to truly live.

does the resurrection change everything?

Homily
Wednesday in the Octave of Easter
15 April 2020
St. Lawrence Catholic Campus Center at the University of Kansas

The Resurrection is not a myth.
It's a historical fact.
The evidence is overwhelming!
The proclamation of the deepest truth and greatest victory is going forth - He is Risen!
It changes everything.

So why are we still moving in the wrong direction?
Why do we still doubt?
The story of Emmaus is a precursor to doubting Thomas.

The Resurrection might be true.
But it's too much to take in.
And the message on the outside doesn't automatically change me from the inside.

I can still run.
I can still doubt.
I can still see only what I want to see.

The intimate and personal visit from the Risen Christ is far from automatic.
The Resurrection changes everything on the outside,
but the truth wants to operate from the inside.

It's why the Church gives us 50 days for the Risen Christ to come heal our fears.
For being disciples of the Risen Christ is the scariest thing of all.

how are my feet?

Homily
Monday of the Octave of Easter
13 April 2020
St. Lawrence Catholic Center at the University of Kansas

How are my feet?

Seems on the surface to be a rather pedestrian question.
Yet this is not a homily about my needing a pedicure.

Feet are a big deal in the Gospel.
Jesus' mandatum at the Last Supper was to wash each other's feet.
The most humble and contrite disciples wash and anoint his feet.
On Good Friday, we're invited to kiss his feet.

Mary Magdalen was the first to touch his Resurrected body!
She went for the feet.
How did Jesus leave the tomb?
By using his feet!

Peter's feet walked out of the locked room to witness the empty tomb.
The soldiers took a buyout instead to stay put where they were.

Notice all the running that takes place during Easter.
How are my feet?
Easter is a time for my feet to physically take me someplace new!
Post-quarantine, would anybody think first to embrace my feet?

what's your real cross?

Homily
Funeral Liturgy for Leo Ochs (grandfather)
13 April 2020
St. Lawrence Catholic Center at the University of Kansas

That tear in grandpa's eye.

I first remember seeing it at my priestly ordination.  I met his eyes as I came down the aisle with dad, but not mom. 

I saw that tear more often the last couple years during the few times I got to see him.  It would come when he was missing someone.  Grandpa always knew is someone was missing.

Shorty is known better for the twinkle in his eye.  He got excited about a lot of things.  You always knew when he was happy to see you.  I'm sure grandma and the kids can tell you about his dark side, but I'm a grandson.  I never knew it.

Happy memories came flooding back on Thursday when I learned the bad news. I can't turn them off, and I don't want to.

Cauliflower salad and goat terds as gag gifts.  Grandma's foil-wrapped harvest burgers.  A four-pound Ackerman catfish on the end of a fly rod. Doughbait.  Ew.  Roger's giggle.  Or cackle.  Or snicker.  Whatever it is.  Thanksgiving football.  The wide-open canvas that is my western Kansas home.  My Catholic faith. All because of my grandpa.

My life changed forever in 1st grade when I was dispatched to take grandpa and mom a pop on the  dam at Cedar Bluff.  They had to be a half-mile from the camper. Armed with slip bobbers and slipshot, they were perfecting the art of casting 30 yards into a 30 mile per hour wind without losing your shiner.  They thought the world turned on one more crappie.  They wouldn't even stop to pee.  They were plum stupid crazy insane. 

Anyhow, on the way with the pop I dashed my head on the rocks.  I have the scar to prove it.  After I recovered a started testing in the 99% in verbal intelligence, won the county spelling bee 3x, and haven't stopped talking like I know everything since.  All thanks to grandpa.

I'll never be happier then I was in 1985 when grandpa's faith in the infamous experiment known as 'the dam' hit the jackpot, and I reeled in one 3 lb largemouth after another for 4 days. 

Your stories I'm sure are better than mine, as most of you were closer to him than I was.  I'm just proud to have been his grandson.  The twinkle in his eye changed everyone who ever met him.  Shame on us if we don't tell every story, as soon as we can, for as long as we can.  He deserves it.  He lived a faithful and fruitful life.

But I think I'll remember most the times that twinkle in his eye twisted forth a tear.

The real cross of Jesus Christ whom grandpa taught me to trust,  is always that thing we least want, the thing we can't change, the thing that most isolates us, that thing that we know we can't do, but have to try.  It's that place where we eventually give all of ourselves.

We can wax eloquently about how to offer up all the hard parts of life, but those things are just a shadow of the real cross.

The real cross is what grandpa just went through.  Not knowing for sure how to do these last few years of life or what they were for, but giving it his best try.  Wanting to be close to those he loved, but dying with all of that stripped away from him.

That's the real cross, and Jesus taking grandpa to Himself through it.

I'll remember most of all that tear in his eye whenever someone was missing.

Now that we all miss him, let's keep that tear in our eyes, until we can all be together again.

does love win?

Homily
Wednesday of Holy Week

Love doesn't always win.  Because it chooses not to.

Love never forces its way.  It proposes.  It gives.  It forgives. It sacrifices.  It does not dictate.

Love doesn't always win.  Not that it's not stronger than anything.  It is.  Yet love shows its ultimate strength in not controlling the outcome. In not having to have its way.  In not having to win.

Today's Gospel is the harsh reality of when love doesn't win.  It would be better for that man if he had never been born.  The voice of mercy speaks these words. Is there anything harder for us to hear?  For Judas is us.

Today's story does not have a happy ending.  Jesus is neither condemning for judging Judas.  He loves Judas.  But because love never forces, he allows Judas to condemn himself.

Surely it is not I rabbi?  You say so.

And so, Easter Sunday doesn't arrive for everyone.  It's doesn't have to arrive for me.  Tough news to hear, but the voice of mercy wants us, needs us to hear it.  Never moreso, when on the cusp of this Holy Week, each one of us is tempted to say.

I don't care.  I can't change.  I won't change.  I quit.

what's your deepest conviction

Homily
Easter Sunday of the Lord's Resurrection
St. Lawrence Catholic Campus Center at the University of Kansas
12 April 2020

What's your deepest conviction?

I'm here tonight at the Easter Vigil to declare my deepest conviction.  I'll answer first. I doubt it's a surprise.  Maybe you've heard it before.

Jesus Christ is Risen!  He is truly Risen!  Alleluia!  Alleluia!

On this most holy night, I, in liturgical concert with the angels, saints, and yes, the martyrs who died for this conviction even today, shout into the darkness that this is the one thing I know to be true out of everything that I know to be true.

I further profess these words to be the most mysterious, the most dramatic, the most profound, and yes, the most TRUE words that have ever been spoken or could ever be spoken in human history.

Jesus Christ is Risen.  He is truly Risen!  Alleluia!  Alleluia!

On these words, I bet all that I am and all that I ever will be.

What is your deepest conviction?

Tonight, I just want to witness.  I'm not going to try to convince you or try to make you feel guilty for what you struggle to believe.  To heck with all that.  What I'm interested in is your real faith.  Your deepest desire.  Is there a truth that you would give your life for?  This is the night set apart for this conversation.  So let's have it . . over Facebook live.

Tonight my prayer is that everyone gets off the couch. Ironically, most of you right now are on a couch.  Yet if tonight is worth doing at all, then there can be no sideline and no bench.  No couch potatoes.  No wall flowers.  No bystanders.

Don't be afraid to answer the pivotal question of this night -  what is your deepest conviction?
Don't blow it off.  Don't be afraid.

You have my answer - Jesus Christ is Risen.  He is truly Risen!  Alleluia!  Alleluia!

Why these words for me?  Because without them, the most heartfelt words I ever say, words first spoken by Jesus - this is my body broken for you - lose their meaning.  Without the Resurrection even the greatest sign of love I have ever known - the cross to which I gave the most passionate kiss of my life last night - is powerless in the face of death.  St. Paul said it best - if Jesus isn't Risen, I'm pathetic.

But I don't profess these words tonight because I need them to be true.  My conviction about the empty tomb isn't a vain wish that justifies my life, it is the fruit of my being a disciple of Jesus.  Jesus invites faith, but also calls disciples to follow Him all the way to the cross to verify whether there is a love stronger than death.  I pray my discipleship has been a courageous one, filtered through the cross of Jesus where I have learned from him how to fear nothing and avoid nothing. 

My conviction comes from the times I dared to be a real Christian, and I'll be darned if Jesus wasn't right.  Every time I die to sin and myself I lay hold of a new, different, and powerful life that does not fade. 

Jesus Christ is Risen! He is truly Risen!  Shame on me if this is ever something that I pretend to be true, instead of something that I because I am a disciple have personally discovered to be true in my real life.

On this truth I am happy to bet all that I am and ever will be.  Not because I need to, or I'm afraid not to, but because I want to.

What's your deepest conviction?

You're invited to beat mine, by all means.  Or join me through the renewal of baptismal promises.  I just pray that none of us will do something cheap, easy or pitiable. On conviction night, let's decide with sharp minds, and pure hearts and courageous wills.

And so, I propose to you now words that have changed the meaning of life, and the destiny of man, more than any other.  On this most holy night set apart for this very decision, I present to you the most mysterious, dramatic, profound, and TRUE words that have ever been or can ever be spoken.

Jesus Christ is Risen!  He is truly Risen!  Alleluia! Alleluia!

who's the best kisser?

Homily
Good Friday of the Lord's Passion
10 April 2020
St. Lawrence Catholic Center at the University of Kansas

Tonight, who will give the best kiss?

C'mon man.  We just tortured Jesus.
That's the pivotal question?
I'm not kidding.

Who will emerge from this night as the best kisser?

Tonight's liturgy involves the only liturgical kiss of the year by the faithful.  You only get one shot per year to get it right.  Pressure intended!  So who is going to win tonight's smack down?  Will it be me?  Will it be you?

You're invited to make the most passionate kiss of the year on Good Friday, because the cross is the ultimate sign of compassion.  I pray that at a minimum tonight's sacred remembering helps you to feel what He feels, and in turn deeply trust that He feels what you feel.  That alone is worth a kiss right there.

But there's so much more. And you will not win tonight's kissing contest if you stop there.

For the cross that you kiss is also the axis for the creation of all that is and will be.  Wait a second, you might say.  I know better.  Long before there was a me, God through a kiss of love created everything out of nothing.  True enough. 

But tonight destroyed all that.  That first kiss that created everything from nothing has been revoked by the kiss of Judas.  I have added my own betrayal to his regarding that first everything.  Crucify him.  I prefer the tree of death to the tree of life.  The author of life himself is dead, and I killed him.  It is finished.  That first everything is once again nothing.  The cross proves it.

And the new nothing of the cross is darker than the first abyss.  The victory of evil is a a more complete defeat than the mere absence of goodness.  What could negate being more than the death of God?

Wherever ground zero is, we're way south of there.  So where could we possibly go from this new nothing that is the cross?

That's where your kiss comes in.
What's the biggest difference between that first abyss and the nothing of the cross?
Surprisingly, it is this.
You weren't there.
But you are here.

God created from the first abyss without you, through a kiss that was just a piece of Himself.

From tonight on, he desires to creates from the nothing of the cross through you.  Through anyone who joins Jesus at the spot where He gave all of Himself.

Will I, on the same night that I betrayed him with a kiss on the lips, kiss his feet and tell him I'll suffer and die with him to create life that can never again be reduced to nothing? 

If so, the cross can never again be the place where my story ends, but precisely the axis where my life begins.

My kiss is my answer. 

So let the smackdown begin.

Who will give the best kiss?

what's the last no in your heart?

Homily
Holy Thursday Mass of the Lord's Supper
9 April 2020
St. Lawrence Catholic Campus Center at the University of Kansas

Jesus is the worst . . at taking no for an answer.

From the no of the garden, to the no of the cross, to the last no remaining in my heart, Jesus is the worst . . at taking no for a final answer.  Instead of accepting my no, he moves, so that every no which is initially a step away from him, might eventually be a step toward him.  And when he moves in search of my next yes, He moves dramatically.

From the no of the garden he hoped in the Immaculate Fiat of the Virgin, and so traveled from the abundant heart of the Father to be conceived poor, small and naked in her womb.  From the no of the cross he could see the repentant yes of Peter, and through him to the eventual, sin-soaked yes of a poor priest like me. 

And so he travels, allowing Himself to be moved even more dramatically by words than by her perfect Fiat, even though I have no clue what I'm doing up here.  He travels from the pure Magnificat sung in the soul of His perfect tabernacle into the pitiable liturgy of a Church that this year has to downsize and livestream on Facebook. 

From the no of all those who scourged him in the flesh he could see your desperate, half-hearted yes to adore His mystical sacramental presence on YouTube from your couch.  So he moves to be born for you on this altar.

See how bad he is at taking no for an answer?  He travels a span greater than the universe for the slightest chance of finding the most pathetic yes.  And still, he's just getting started.

For the greatest distance remains.  Here is where it gets most real.  All of that traveling, all of that refusing to take no for an answer, is worth nothing, if the final destination for Jesus is on this altar.  For the distance that Jesus is most desperate to travel on this most holy night is the distance between this altar and my heart.

What is that last no of my heart?  That's the pivotal question.  Where am I saying to him - Lord, you will never wash my feet.  I know, this year, this Lent has gone to shreds.  I haven't talked to a single person who had a good Lent.  Not one.  You're watching this on TV, for God's sake.  Maybe you're expecting nothing to happen this Triduum.  I don't know.

I do know this.  If this is not the year that I let him travel this final distance, and wash my feet, when can I honestly say I will ever let him?

Whenever it is, remember this.  Jesus will never give up on you.  For he is the absolute worst . . at taking no for a final answer.

He will keep moving, and moving dramatically, until the promise of this holy night is fulfilled - and he sees all of us washing each other's feet.

throw in the towel?

Remarks on Holy Week during COVID
4/6/20

Should we just say to hell with it?
Should we just throw in the towel?
And cancel Holy Week?

If sports are canceled, shouldn't Holy Week be?  For Catholicism, if it is anything, is a full contact sports.  It always is.  It always will be.

Yet this is hard.  If Catholicism is a full contact sport, who gets to play during this year of social distancing?  Is everyone except a couple people in Church just playing a video game from home?  Are we playing for keeps this year or just producing the latest reality TV show, that hides more than it shows?

I think these are legitimate questions.  Obviously, if we have any faith whatsoever, we can't cancel Easter.  We can't skip Holy Week.  Yet I'm not sure we are nailing our response as a Church to COVID-19.  If McDonalds can stay open and deliver food, I think there has to be a way for us to safely deliver sacraments even in the worst of pandemics.  But this is above my pay grade. I trust and support the decisions that have been made.  What isn't above my pay grade is my advice on how to still make Holy Week a full contact sport, as it always must be for us, even without us being physically together.

Let me emphasize again why this is so hard for the Catholic faith to be delivered this week.  The Church understands that to be human is to be a unity of soul and body.  To turn Holy Week into something virtual is to divorce soul and body. That can't be an option. 

The Church teaches as well that grace builds upon nature.  So we are saved according to the same pattern by which we are created.  That is to say, we are saved not by the separation of soul from body, but by their full healing and integration.  So Catholics have to profess more than anyone, COVID or no COVID, the central truth of Easter, the Resurrection of the Body, for the Catholic Church is physically part of the Body of Christ that rises.  Our celebration of the Paschal Mystery can never be less sacramental, then, it must ALWAYS, this year included, but mediated in and through our bodies.

Furthermore, the sacraments are how we consummate (non-sexually of course) our marriage to God. They are the greatest treasures given by Christ to His bride, the Church.  So again, it's the hardest thing imaginable -  to go online this year. It seems to go against everything that makes us Catholic Christians - to have a virtual Holy Week.  It could come across as fake to its very core.  So why not just mail it in this year - and if Catholicism can never be anything but a full contact sport, to cancel like every sporting event is canceled, and wait for a better day?

It's because the mystical body of Christ includes a physical dimension that we can and must go forward this year into the celebration of Holy Week as a full contact sport.  No, you will not be allowed in the Church this year.  I'm sorry.  But you will mysteriously be just as physically present as if you were. 

It's because we are a sacramental Church that ironically we are together even when we are apart.  When we go to confession, Christ shows up in the person of the priest.  Even moreso at Mass, Christ shows up in the word, the priest, the bread and wine, and yes last but not least, in the ASSEMBLY.  So if Christ is made mystically but physically present when you show up for Mass, so you are made mystically but no less physically present in Him when He shows up for Mass.

We know this to be true in our bones - that we are really and physically present to each other, even with those who we can no longer see because of death or distance, in the Eucharist.  See you in the Eucharist.

So even though you won't be there on Easter Sunday, I promise you will be there. 

St. Paul delivers this truth this way.  If one part of the body suffers, then everyone suffers. If one part rejoices, all parts rejoice.  The Church is made of individual members, but all mysteriously and no less physically present to each other.  We are in this together.  They mystery of faith and the grace of the sacraments are delivered physically to a bride that is also a communion of persons, a family and a Church. 

When you are watching a priest receive the Eucharist on your laptop TV, you are there. You really are.  The nourishment that enters the head is distributed to the whole body.  While the expression and the actualization of the salvific and sacramental grace will be vastly different this year, it will be no less available.  The grace of one Eucharist, which is enough to save the whole world and everyone in it, will reach the bodies of all her members who prepare to receive Jesus. All members will be physically present and invited to rise bodily with Christ this year.  There is no such thing as a merely spiritual or virtual Easter.

Yes, it will be hard.  But you will be in solidarity with vast numbers of Catholic Christians throughout the centuries who have had to rise bodily with Christ on Easter, and become saints, without being able physically and individually to go to Mass.

Yet it doesn't mean that Catholicism is not still a full contact sport.  It doesn't mean that Holy Week is canceled.  The grace of this Easter is as real and physical as ever.  And the same holds true for this Easter as every Easter.  If I do not rise physically and totally with Christ to the fullness and newness of life this Easter, can I honestly say that I ever will?

what are you all in for?

Homily
Monday of Holy Week
5 April 2020
St. Lawrence Catholic Campus Center at the University of Kansas

What are you all in for?

I spent $3K on the 2014 World Series. The Royals lost.
I spent $800 to go to the 2019 AFC Championship game versus the Patriots.  The Chiefs lost.

I didn't really have the money in either case.  But I was all in.  And I didn't care what anybody thought.  Nothing could keep me from being there for my team.  It's the only way I know how to be a fan.

What are you all in for?

Hopefully not sports. They can be an idol.  But what is it for you?

Mary spilled the whole jar of perfume on feet.  Pretty ridiculous. Very wasteful.  She was ridiculed.  Yet she bet it all on Jesus.  She didn't care what anyone thought.  Devotion does not count costs.

What are you all in for?

Jesus is apparently all in for us.  He's all in for this most Holy Week of the Year.  Because half measures are lame.  And they never work.

Jesus is all in for this week.  Is anyone else?


What are you all in for?

what have you been most wrong about?

Homily

Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion

4 April 2020

Crucify him.  Crucify him.

Those words used to hurt me a lot.  I can remember how they felt when I was 7 years old.  My heart would break. Tears would well up in my eyes.  It would stick with me for days after. I was so sorry for hurting Jesus.  Really sorry. I never wanted to hurt him again. It was maybe the last time I had perfect contrition, when I was 7.  I knew that I wanted to spend my life trying to stop people from hurting Jesus. There was nothing I was more sure of.

I don’t know how things changed or when I lost that heartbreak.  When those tears stopped. When I got used to crucifying Jesus. When I became ok with it.  I just know that I’ve lost it. What I don’t know is how to get it back.   

Our pivotal question this week is:  what have you been most wrong about?  I think the coronavirus is showing us that there’s a lot we don’t know, and that we are wrong about most things.  I never thought I’d be hearing Holy Week confessions outside six-feet apart wearing a mask. I don’t like it. It seems dumb.  Life is upside down right now. A reminder that we’re wrong about most things.

But what have I been most wrong about?  It’s that I would spend my life trying to stop people from hurting Jesus.  I was certain of that, and I still want to live my life for that. But I lost it.  I was wrong. What is worse, instead of learning how to stop hurting Jesus, I’ve learned instead how to stop caring, how to shout all the louder, and how to lead the band.

The greed of Judas?  Check.

The betrayal of Peter?  Check

The sloth of James and John?  The cowardice of every disciple? Check and check.

The scapegoating of Caiphas?  The envy of the Pharisees? The injustice of Pilate, the unrepentance of the chief priests?   Check. Check. Check. Check.

The bloodthirst of the crowd?  The violence and scorn of the soldiers.  Guilty as charged.

Last and certainly not least - the despair and self-destruction of Judas - the final sin against the Holy Spirit?  Yes, I do that too. Most of all, I do that. I’m quite good at giving up and giving in.

Crucify him. Crucify him.

When I hear it now, at age 46, the flutter in my heart is barely noticeable.

The rationalizations are near at hand.  It’s the way things go. It’s a part of life.  It’s fine.    

Crucify him. Crucify him.

Even standing here in persona Christi at the altar, no tears are welling in my eyes.    

It’s who Jesus is.  It’s what he wants. It’s what he chose.  It’s fine.

Crucify him.  Crucify him.

My contrition is lukewarm if I feel any at all.  I’m used to hurting him. I doubt I’ll ever stop.  I love myself, not him, too much to want to change.  Things are good enough the way they are. It’s fine.

Crucify him. Crucify him. 

I thought those words would always break my heart.  It’s what I’ve been most wrong about. I honestly don’t know if they will ever break my heart again.

Still.  Jesus. Comes.  

Even knowing I’m lying in wait for him.  Even knowing my inoculation to his passion. Even knowing that through the social distancing and sanitization of my heart that I would be leading the band this year.  Still he comes into the cacaphony of my sins and yours, to be bludgeoned in every way we can conjur up.

You know what I really want for Holy Week this year?  For him to stop coming. I do. Yet here he is.

Crucify him. Crucify him.

What happens to your heart when you say those words this year?

At least Peter weeps bitterly.  At least Mary and John, Mary Magdalen, Simon of Cyrene and Joseph of Arimathea don’t social distance.  Even Judas deeply regrets and tries to make amends, which is more than I can say for me right now. And you know how his story ended.

Today’s story does not end well.  A sober reminder that Holy Week doesn’t have to change anything. Not even during the coronavirus pandemic.  And it won’t change anything, unless we allow our distant and sanitized hearts to break.

Crucify him.  Crucify him..

I don’t know if those words will ever break my heart again.  But at the end of this story, that’s what I want to be most wrong about.