Experiencing God - 259 Diaconate and Retirement

 

Effective on February 1 of this year, on my 78^th birthday, I have moved to what is called

 a non-active status as a deacon.  As a result of this, I have now moved from St.

 Stephen’s Church in Halifax back to my Dartmouth home church at St. Vincent de Paul.

 Since this is a major change for me, I thought that I would like to share a little bit about

 Diaconate, touching ever so briefly on my own journey during the last 41 years. Just as

 we often read at the bottom of many personal columns in our newspapers and

 magazines, the opinions and views expressed here are my own, and are not necessarily

 shared by others. Nor need they be.

As you all know, the scripture reference for deacons in the early church can be found in the book of Acts written by Luke.  The early Christian church that grew after Jesus’ resurrection was a shared community.  It was a community that looked after the welfare of it’s growing membership.  And some of these members were widows and orphans. So naturally, widows and orphans who had no visible means of support had to be cared for.  And since the community was very small at this early stage of development, problems arose then as they often do today.  When some of the Hellenists widows, the Greek Jewish Christians, complained that they were being neglected in the food distribution, the apostles gathered to discuss what to do about it. 

And they decided to select people from their community, people of solid faith, to deal with this problem.  These people were called deacons. Being a deacon wasn’t a glamorous position, one that would catch a lot of public attention, but a position of service, principally in the area or social justice.  The apostles selected seven men who would oversee the needs of widows in their community, one of them, as you know, was Steven.  Now Steven did not get his notoriety from serving widows.  His difficulties arose when he started to preach.  And obviously, a deacon preaching with exuberance caught the attention of those who opposed this new faith, one being, as you know, was Saul and later to be called Paul.  So Steven, through his preaching, became the first Christian martyr, stoned to death with Saul’s blessing.  Perhaps this is a lesson to anyone wishing to pursue being a deacon…if you stick to the service of widows, you will keep out of trouble.  Start preaching, and you will never know what trouble you may get in. But the primary role of the deacon was one of charity, particularly to the marginalized.  Our current Bishop Brian Dunn describes the deacon’s role as that of the Word, Liturgy and charity, but principally charity or social justice. 

Our church history records Permanent Deacons being around for the first 1000 years or so playing a vital service role, and then changes were put in place which changed it from a permanent ministry to a transitional one, a step on the way of becoming a priest. 

Then again, after Vatican 11 in the late nineteen sixties, under Pope John  XX111, the permanent diaconate was once again restored.  Our Bishop at that time, James Hayes ordained the first deacon, George Tucker, in the Archdiocese of Halifax, in the early seventies. 

When I entered the formation program in 1978, there were five ordained deacons in place, all but one have since passed away: Jim McClevey is still with us but retired for many years.  Also, when I entered the program in 1978, there were twelve others in formation.  Most have also passed away. I believe two are still with us but retired:  Dave Shortt and Bernie Coffin.  Many others have, of course, entered formation since that time and are serving as deacons in the Archdiocese.    
When I entered the program, most of the deacons and candidates entered for two main reasons.  The church after Vatican 11 was going through a strong period of renewal, very different from now.  After Vatican 11, the Charismatic Renewal, Cursillo movement, Marriage Encounter, Engaged Encounter, New Beginnings, Days of Enrichment flourished and the church became a new and exciting place to be.  Many began diaconate formation as a result of the influence of these renewal movements on their lives. This certain was my case as well.  Others came as a response to a previous calling to the priesthood that, for whatever reason, did not work out.  Diaconate became an opportunity for them to give expression to that previous call.

Over the past 41 years, I have seen an evolution of changes happening with the diaconate.  When I entered the program, most of the candidates were younger in years.  Many, like myself, had young children, and so, in many ways, the children became a part of the formation or at least being factored into the formation process.  The monthly masses we had at our homes during formation included the children.  The special feast day gatherings were filled with young children running around, doing what children do. Families interacted with each other, and permanent family connections were established.  Part of formation enquiry included asking your children what they thought about their dad becoming a deacon. It was a family affair. 

Also, back then, there was an underlying view that being ordained a deacon would be a movement towards a full-time ministry with the Archdiocese. One of the early deacons was told to quit his job after being ordained on the presumption of beginning a new ministry career which did not come about immediately. Needless to say, this caused considerable financial concern until it was finally dealt with.  Most of us in formation were prepared for this change, although later, it was shown to be more the exception than the rule.  Now I don’t believe this is even a factor of consideration.

Also, in those early years, the role of the deacon was not as clearly defined as it is now.  

In many cases, I don’t think the priest really knew what to do with us. So we were more often asked to take on the tasks that the pastor saw were lacking or absent in parish life.  A change in pastor at your church often meant a change in the Deacon’s role.  So you never were too sure as to what you might be doing if you changed churches or the church changed pastors. Today, much more stress is placed on the newly ordained deacon to discern or discover his ministry, with an emphasis towards social justice issues.

During my years of formation and early diaconate ministry, I often chuckled at the comments made by some that being ordained a deacon was an elevation from a lay status to the ordained.  I suppose in some sense, that may seem to be true, but I rarely saw my particular choice to become a deacon in terms of an elevation.  It was definitely a choice, but I would describe it more as a path. 

After experiencing Jesus in a very deep in personal way in my late twenties, I had to make a choice as to how I was to begin to live out this new-found faith that was suddenly very real to me. My exploration and research that followed at that time led to pursuing diaconate formation.  I was already somewhat involved in church; as a catechism teacher, part of a men’s group and a prayer group.  I knew a couple of deacons, and one or two in formation, so it became a possible path to follow.  The main obstacle that I saw was my family situation. 

Mary Anne and I lived fairly quiet lives, she a stay-at-home mom, I worked with the Federal Government, and we also had three young children, the oldest not yet 10 and the youngest 7.  Was this the right path for me to take? The time I knew this was a right path for us was when Mary Anne, after a short time of prayer, agreed wholeheartedly to it.  It was then that I also realized that it wasn’t just my path. It was a path for the whole family as they were willing to embrace the changes that we would have to make.  During my four years of formation and the last 41 years as a deacon that followed, I don’t believe I ever saw it as being different from that.  I was involved in my own kids’ catechism classes. I worked at their confirmation retreats. Two of the boys were altar servers where I served at mass; the other played his guitar in the youth choir. Mary Anne was almost as much a part of the formation process as I was myself.  And there wasn’t to many of my involvements at church; baptismal preparation, marriage preparation, cursillo, retreats, conferences, you name it, that she wasn’t a part of in some way.  So it was a path that we both shared, and for us it would not have worked in any other way. 

But we all have a path.  You have taken your own particular path with your own family and life.  And the path that you have taken has led you to where you are now, and it continues. 

And your path, particularly as it relates to matters of faith and service has been and continues to be just as critical to the life of the church as the path that someone else may have taken.  In the four or five churches that I’ve been a part of during the last 45 years, there has not been one where I did not see people, and many of them, who held that community together through their shared faith and service, and who often humbled me in the work they did; their outreach to others, their ability to share their gifts in ways that I personally found difficult and often impossible to imitate.   

We all have our path.  Diaconate was a path that my family took in living our faith, to grow, as Matthew Kelly often says, towards being the best version of ourselves, with its ups and downs, failures and correction, often times of clinging to things too tightly, and times of letting go.  The same is true for each and every one of you

I am very peaceful with retiring from what is called ‘active service’ as a deacon.  I’m not quite sure what that will look like, but I see it as only another part of the path that we will continue to follow as best we can. 

I would like to end with a favorite line found often in our church prayer which sums up the essence of this journey:  “Your word, of Lord, is a guide for my steps, and a light for my path.” 

Experiencing God - 258 - Ascensions of the Lord

 

We hear from our first reading: “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the world.”

We have all known times of transition in our lives, when one phase of our lives comes to an end and a whole new phase of life begins.  One of these times of transition that I’m sure we can all relate to is when we leave home for the first time. At some point in time, we have all left the security and comfort of our parent’s home to begin our own way in life. We leave those who have instructed us, guided us, provided us with life’s essentials, to strike out on our own. And although our parents and family are often still there, at least at first, to keep a watchful eye on us, we know that something new is developing. In many senses, the letting go of the security we had experienced with parents and family in order to begin our own life can be a bit scary and uncomfortable, at least at first; but during this transition, we also carry with us an excitement, a joy and an expectation in regards to this new life that is unfolding. 
Today, we celebrate the Ascension of the Lord, Jesus returning to the Father. For the Apostles of Jesus, this would have been a time of a major transition in their lives, similar perhaps to ones we ourselves may have experienced. 

With the Ascension, one phase of the apostles’ relationship with Jesus was coming to an end, and a new and very different phase was beginning. 

For most of the apostles’ time, their connection with Jesus would have been very similar to that of any other close human relationship. After all, Jesus was as human and real to them as they were to each other. Jesus exhibited every human quality that they themselves exhibited. He shared all the same emotions, expectations, ups and downs that they themselves experienced, except perhaps for sin.  But for all intents and purposes, Jesus was one of them.  He had been present with them in an embodied way.  The apostles had listened to his teachings. They had witnesses Him serving and healing people.  They had walked with Him all over Galilee. They had accompanied Him on His journey into Jerusalem. They had shared many meals with Him. Now all of that was coming to an end.  Jesus was taking His leave, and from that moment on, He would no longer be visible to them in a bodily way.  So with the Ascension, there was an ending in the way that they previously connected with Jesus.  And there would certainly be a sadness and loss associated with this end.  In fact, in today’s first reading, the Apostles were described as left standing; ‘staring into the sky, or staring into space’, somewhat mystified, perhaps confused. 

Yet, from this ending, there was also a new beginning.  Jesus would be present to them in another way.  In our first reading from Acts, we hear that, as Jesus takes His leave, He promises them that in a few days time, they would receive the Holy Spirit’. “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the world.” And as we read in the Gospels, that they went back to Jerusalem as told, full of joy, full of expectation.

Therefore, at this time in 2023, as we celebrate this special feast day of the Ascension of the Lord, we are encouraged to celebrate it with the same joy and the same expectation that the apostles themselves experienced. And what the apostles experienced was the fulfillment of Jesus’ promise to them, the promise of an outpouring of the Holy Spirit that would change their lives forever. And the cause of their joy was that now they knew that the Ascension was not about Jesus leaving them but of leading them; leading them to a whole new way of being with Him: leading them to a whole new way of living out their faith.  Billions of Catholics and Christians around the world at this very moment know and live their faith in Christ, not by seeing Him as the apostles did, but by having their lives changed by the intervention of the Holy Spirit. Jesus continues to share His life with us, to lead and guide us this very way as much today as before.
Perhaps the greatest obstacle we face today is our tendency and danger of viewing this promise of Jesus merely from an intellectual or an ideological point of view.  In other words, Jesus’ promise of the Holy Spirit is only a metaphor to explain some extraordinary conversion event of those present during Pentecost.

Recently, I’ve been reading a book by Fr. Brice Higginbotham on Discipleship with an emphasis on John ‘s Gospel. In his book, Fr. Brice emphasizes that true Christian discipleship springs from two actions.  The first action is belief in Jesus.  Belief, as FR. Brice describes it, can be expanded to include things like trust or having confidence in.  So the first action for discipleship is to believe in Christ, to have trust and confidence in Him and His teachings.

But Fr. Brice emphases that belief by itself is insufficient for discipleship. Discipleship must also include ‘remaining with or abiding in’.  ‘Abiding in’ means encountering Jesus in a relationship of love, and being transformed by that relationship. ‘Abiding in’ is encountering of Jesus in a personal way, in an experiential way.  When we encounter Jesus in this manner, then there is no question about His continual presence with us, through the power of the Holy Spirit, that was promised to the Apostles at the time of the Ascension.  I certainly recall my own personal encounter with Christ in my late twenties that was a major turning point and a major transition into a whole new way of life. Before that, the Holy Spirit was just something that I had read about.  After that, everything changed; I moved more deeply into prayer, and scripture came alive me as never before. This encounter led me to receiving the Sacrament of Confirmation at the Basilica and later discerning Diaconate Ministry. 

In the Ascension, Christ does not leave us, but leads us, and makes Himself known to us in a manner that is different from before.

 I have a quote from Pope Leo the Great that speaks about this difference, this transition that the apostles experienced.    He writes:  In the Ascension, Jesus’ visible presence in bodily form has passed into the sacraments.  As a result, our faith is nobler and stronger because sight has been replaced a relationship of trust in Jesus whose authority is accepted by believing hearts, and enlightened from on high.  Our faith is increased by the Lord’s ascension and strengthened by the gift of the Holy Spirit poured out at Pentecost. 

 

So even though Jesus’ bodily presence is no longer visible to us, His presence continues to remain truly visible to us through the sacraments of the church, particularly the Eucharist, the body, soul, and divinity of Christ, that we share during mass.  We, the Church, becomes the Body of Christ, through the presence of the Holy Spirit.  And it is we as church that take up the great commission given to us by Jesus at the time of the Ascension:  “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. This cannot be accomplished without the presence of the Holy Spirit who remains active in each of our lives as we believe in Jesus and remain or abide with Him.

I conclude with the prayer of St. Teresa of Avila which describes for us this new relationship of trust and our call to respond.

Christ has no body now but yours. No hands, no feet, on earth but yours.  Yours are the eyes with which He sees, Yours are the feet with which He walks. Yours are the hands with which He blesses all the world. 

God Bless

 

Experiencing God - 257 Doubting Thomas

 

I’ve found that the journey through Holy Week beginning with the mass of the Lord’s Supper on Thursday, and ending with the Easter Vigil on Saturday can be a real Topsy Turvey ride. As we engage ourselves in reliving these Easter events, many emotions are aroused and we can get bounced around a bit. On Holy Thursday, we confidently embrace Jesus’ model for service to others through the washing of feet and the last supper. And then on Good Friday, we relive the cruelty of the rejection, torture and death of Jesus on the cross to finally to move into the hope, joy and celebration the resurrection event at the Easter Vigil and on Easter morning.  If you think this is an emotional roller coaster for us who are just replaying these events, imagine what it must have been like to those who experienced them in real time. One thing that I became more aware of this year is that when we dramatize these Easter events, we have the advantage of knowing the eventual outcome.  Those who experienced them in real time did not have that advantage.  In fact, for those followers who were closest to Jesus, it would probably be difficult to capture in words the trauma they experienced by these events.  Our Gospel reading today starts with these very people doing what we ourselves would do when faced with a disaster of such overwhelming proportions. They were huddling together, fearful of the perpetrators, sharing their grief and loss, and carrying the shame of wondering if they might not have done something more to prevent this tragedy. Without the appearances of the resurrected Christ that followed, it is unlikely that the Christian story, as we know it, would ever have happened as we understand it today.

In today’s gospel, we hear that Thomas was not present when these appearances began. We don’t know where he was, but it took some persuasion from the others before he would even meet with them. But it is obvious, if he did not go with them to experience the risen Christ himself, he would probably have continued live in doubt  since there would be no wounds of Jesus for him to see. There would be no profession of his changed faith: “My Lord and My God”. But he did go, and he saw and believed and it changed his life.  Because of his encounter with the Lord, he accepted Jesus’ great commission of spreading the Gospel to many places of the world including to the Parthians, Medes and Persians, and to be eventually martyred in India for doing so. Without the appearances, Peter and Andrew would probably have return to fishing, and James and John to their father Zebedee to take on what they had left behind some three years before. But the appearances of Jesus changed all that. With His appearances, they were all changed.  Three of the four I mentioned were eventually martyred for the cause of the Gospel; Andrew in Greece, Peter in Rome, James in Jerusalem. John the evangelist, would be imprisoned on the Island of Patmos.  For them and for the other witnesses to Jesus’ resurrection, their for their own selves were suddenly less important than sharing the Gospel of Christ which they did through their preaching and through their writings.

So with these appearances of the resurrected Christ, lives were changed, in fact the world was changed, and these events continued to influence the lives of people and societies throughout the centuries more than any other single event in human history.  Today, we are a part of that chain of events.
In the year 2000, Pope John Paul 11 designated this second Sunday of Easter as Divine Mercy Sunday.  He decided that immediately after Easter, when the Paschal mysteries were still fresh in peoples minds and hearts, it was a good opportunity for the church to reflect more deeply on God’s mercy manifested in the Resurrection of Jesus.  He noted that the resurrection of Jesus is the core of our faith. As we read in 1 Corinthians, without the resurrection of Jesus, there is no Christianity.  So Pope John Paul reinforces for the church that connection of God’s Divine Mercy with the transformational gift of Christ’s death and resurrection. They are one in the same.

So what is Divine Mercy?  The ordinary definition of mercy is the compassionate treatment of those in distress, especially when it’s within our power to punish or to harm. If someone has wronged us, and we are in a position to punish them for it, then to forgive is to show mercy. It is not as common in today’s world where suing or seeking retribution is looked upon as a sign of strength.  From the biblical sense, Divine Mercy, derived from the Latin ‘merced’ means “the price been paid”. So it relates directly to forgiveness, as Jesus continually taught in the Gospels.  If we each take the time to reflect upon this as Pope John Paul  intended, we can easily come up with many of our own personal stories of a time or situation where God extended his hand mercy to us. We all fall short of the glory of God. We all miss the mark. If God has extended mercy to us for our indiscretions, then we are called also to extend that same mercy to others.  

 

 

It is important to know that the reason why God extends His Divine mercy to us, and asks us to do likewise, is not because He feels sorry for us, or has pity on us.  It is because he wants to heal us, to transform us, to change us into the person that He intended for us to be in the first place. So change or transformation becomes the purpose. This transformation process is so evident in the relationship that existed between Jesus and the apostles. He connects with this rather rag tag group of people, invites them into a relationship, guides them, teaches them, heals them, sends them out. He never gives up on them.  And you can be sure, that He never gives up on us as well.  And even though they were a little slow off the mark at times, as we are often ourselves, Jesus teaches them that Kingdom of God cannot be found through a life of our own self rule, doing what only benefits ourselves, but by dying to ourselves through actions of love and service and mercy to others. Jesus not only teaches this to the apostles, but lived it out completely in His own life as witnessed by the unfolding events of Easter.  He does this by his own denial of self, and by his death and resurrection, paying the price for us. And then, appearing to the apostles, and sending His Holy Spirit so that we may be impowered to live that out in our  lives as well. 

So our transformation and God’s Divine Mercy found through forgiveness, are linked and inseparatable. In our first reading from Acts, we witness the fruits of this played out in the life of the infant Christian community: “The faithful devoted themselves to the Apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread, and prayers. Awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done. All who believed were united together, and had all things in common.” 

I would like to conclude with a quote from St. Mother Teresa on her own wisdom about God’s action of Divine Mercy. It’s a little different. Perhaps, more of a call, of how to respond to difficult situations in our own life in Christian community. She says:

People may often seem unreasonable and self-centered; Forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of ulterior motives. Be kind anyway.
If you are honest, people may cheat you. Be honest anyway.
If you find happiness, people may be jealous. Be happy anyway.
The good you do today may be forgotten tomorrow. Do good anyway.
Giving the world the best you have, may never be enough. Give your best anyway.
For you see, in the end, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway. 

Samaritan Woman at the Well - 256

 

There’s a story of a beggar who had been sitting by the side of the street for many many years. One day a stranger walked by: And the beggar, holding out his old baseball cap, mechanically mumbled: “Can you spare some change?”  “I have nothing to give you” said the stranger.  Then the stranger added: “What’s that you are sitting on”?  “Nothing” replied the beggar. “Just an old box. I have been sitting on it for as long as I can remember.” “Ever look inside?” asked the stranger. “No”, said the beggar.  What’s the point? There’s nothing in there.”  “Have a look inside,” insisted the stranger.  The beggar managed to pry open the lid.  With astonishment, disbelief, and elation, he saw that the box was filled with gold. 
Today, I am, in many respects, like this stranger who really has nothing much to give you, but inviting you to look inside.  Not inside any box, as in the story, but somewhere even closer: Inside yourself.  For it is only inside ourselves that we will find our true wealth.  This true wealth is not some material object like gold or some fleeting outward pleasure. If that is all we seek, then we will remain only beggars.  But our true wealth is that radiant joy of being, that unshakable peace that come from knowing Jesus in a deep and personal way.
Today, during this third weekend of Lent, you have just heard this rather lengthy Gospel we are all familiar with: Jesus meeting the Samaritan woman at the well. And in a sense, it is a story of a stranger, Jesus, inviting this woman to look inside to find her true treasure, which up to this time, remains hidden from her.

I’ve come to believe that we will never find this inner treasure that Jesus speaks about unless we first begin to seek it in a sincere way; until we begin to knock on the door of our hearts and invite it in, in prayer.  Otherwise, we only remain somewhat distracted by passing the events of life. I know this is true for myself, because when I am caught up in passing distractions, it is the times I feel most distant from God. But when I allow God to break through, it is then that I discover the treasure that has been there all the time. Sometimes we need someone to remind us of the importance of faith in our lives so that we may retain that unshakeable peace that comes from knowing Christ. 

And this is what Jesus is doing in our Gospel reading today.  He is taking the time to remind this Samaritan woman, a stranger to Him, that there is something in her life that she is missing, something worth searching for.  But first He must make that connection with her because she is very distracted by the things around her.  In making this connection, Jesus does not judge her, or remind her of her failings, but begins by letting her know that she too, despite her failings, is a Child of God.  Jesus invites her  to look inside, to claim this true treasure that is there but remained hidden from her view.  He does this by reminding her that “everyone who drink ordinary well water will become thirsty again.  But the one who drinks the water that He gives, will never be thirsty, and it will become like a spring within gushing to eternal life.”

 

 

The fact is, without God, we all thirst for something. Without God and that personal relationship with Christ, we all experience that sense of emptiness, and the more we try to fill this inner emptiness with those outer superficial things and events of life, the emptier we will feel. So as beggars, we must begin to look inside to discover that treasure that remains hidden from our view.  The Samaritan woman’s responds to Jesus: “Give me this water so that I too may never be thirsty again.” 

This story about Jesus meeting the Samaritan woman at the well is one of the recommendation Gospel readings for the rite of Baptism.  For the many baptisms that I have celebrated over the last 40 years, this particular Gospel has been used almost exclusively to open a discussion on baptism with the parents.  I have found generally that most young couples have a sense of the importance of having their child baptized, but they do not have a good understanding as to why. They perhaps see it as the responsible thing that parents do for their children: But, most often, they fail to see the Sacrament of Baptism as a beginning step in on-going faith development for their child: That the outward signs of water, chrism, candles and white garments must be accompanied by an inward seeking of Jesus, asking Him to be present in the life of their child and in their own lives as well. So it is important that they hear Jesus’ petition to the Samaritan woman to receive this living water that he offers freely to all who ask. “If only you knew this gift that God is offering you, and who it is who is asking you for a drink. Then You would ask Him instead, and He will give you living water.”  

 

Those of you who are familiar the New Evangelization initiative in our Archdiocese of Halifax/Yarmouth know that this particularly Gospel reading is often referenced as the best scripture examples of a way to reach out to those who, for whatever reason, are separated from our faith and our church.  A few months ago, I mentioned to you about the three B’s of the New Evangelization or conversion to Christ. Belonging, Believing and Behavior. The first step, belonging, means making that connection. We invite another to be a part of what we are about. We do this simply, without judgement, accepting the other person as they are.  Jesus does this simply by asking the Samaritan woman to share with Him a cup of water. He opens a conversation with one to whom a Jewish person would not normally associate. This begins the development of trust.  Secondly, after making this connection, we move to the believing; the sharing of our own experience of faith, perhaps how our lives have grown and have been changed by our relationship with Christ. In our Gospel, Jesus gently enters into this dialog by inviting the Samaritan woman to look deeper, getting in touch with her own thirst for what is missing in her life. With this, she begins to see something in Jesus that she was now aware of before.

And thirdly, going deeper leads to a behavior change, a movement away from the surface of things, to a change of heart, and a discovery Christ’s presence within.  We see this change in the Samaritan woman. After encountering Jesus, she leaves her water jar behind, and returns to the village where she shares her experience of Jesus with the town folks. And invites them to come and meet Jesus themselves.

The prayer booklet we are currently reviewing in our New Evangelization group on Thursday evenings is called: “We have come to Adore Him.”  I would like to conclude with a brief quote from Pope Benedict from this booklet.  He writes: “In our life with Jesus, in our life in prayer, we don’t simply find God; we also find ourselves.” What is this Christian life and mission really about. It is about a God who is infinite in His love for us, and who wants to share with us the richness this love.  And in finding ourselves, we receive and know that we are infinitely loved by God.  

I noticed that our parish has developed and is proposing a new mission statement which for me speaks of this.

  Our Mission is to be a welcoming community of Jesus’ disciples who journey together in right Faith, certain Hope, and live out of His love in word and deed.   Let us pray for the grace to see this come about in our church and our lives,   

Christ Our Light - 255

 

Three weekends ago at our masses, we heard that Gospel reading about Jesus coming to fulfill Isaiah’s prophecy of being a “Light of the World”.  “The people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and for those who sat in the shadow of death, a light has dawned.” An image we can all relate too. In our Gospels, Jesus is often referred to as the light, as the one who helps us see through the darkness.  When we speak of Jesus in this way, it is not in the same sense as turning on the electric lights in our homes or in our churches so that we can see to get around.  Nor is it like the light of the sun that rises in the morning to clear away the darkness so that we can get on with our daily chores. Perhaps these are good analogies, but Jesus as the light speaks to us in a different way.  The light of Christ certainly helps us to see through a darkness, but it is an inner darkness, an inner blindness that we all experience from time to time.  Through Christ’s light, we can see the world in a new way, we can see life in a new way, and we can see others in a new way.  You might say that we begin to see the world, life and others in a way that God Himself sees it.  And paradoxically, we also begin to see the mess we create when we ignore this light that Jesus offers.  The dysfunction in our homes, the violence in our communities, the wars and famine in our nations are now seen as signs of the absence of Christ’s light.  And we suddenly are no longer comfortable with standing by and allowing these atrocities to continue.  

We are called to action, to address these areas of darkness to the extent that it is possible for us.
Our Gospel this past weekend goes beyond announcing that only Jesus is the light of the world.  Jesus is proclaiming to you and to me that we are also the light of the world.  I would guess that what he is saying from this is that we who are Christian, we who have had their eyes opened by Christ’s light must become the bearers of that same light to others.  We are meant to share that light, through our actions, with those, who for whatever reason, are unable to see it.  The whole purpose of this is so that the lives of others and the actions of darkness may be changed as well.
In last weekend’s Gospel, Jesus tells us with great conviction: “Let your light shine before others so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” Do not put it under a bushel basket, but put it on a lampstand where it may shine for everyone in the house.”
In the same manner, Jesus is insisting that you are “the salt of the earth”.  What does that mean?  We all know what salt is used for. When we put a little salt on our food, we are highlighting and enhancing the flavour of the food itself.  This stimulates our sense of taste and enjoyment of the food.

But Jesus is not speaking here about food. He is speaking about something else.
During the weddings where I was the presider, I’ve often used this particular Gospel reading. When couples are getting married, there love for each other is so obvious, and the flavour of their relationship with each other is so evident to everyone.  So weddings are a good time to remind the couple of the importance of retaining that flavour, that saltiness in their relationship, to keep it alive and always in the forefront of things. In other words, give it a priority and to work at it.  Jesus came to reveal and share with us the true flavour of life, to open up in us the capacity to taste the goodness of His Grace and be transformed by it.  As Christians, we are, in turn called to share that flavour of Christ with those around us.  When Jesus calls us to be ‘the salt of the earth’, He is inviting us to extend that flavour into all areas of our life.  In that way, the lives of others who we encounter can also be awakened to that true flavour of a life of Grace as well.  But if we, as salt of the earth, lose this flavour, then we become very ineffective tools for sharing the joy of the Gospel or a life of Grace.   

 So what can we do to keep that light of Christ shining brightly in our own lives.  What can we do to retain our saltiness?
When I look back over the years of my own life, its not unusual to see that my spiritual journey did not flow in a perfect, straight and consistent line. I suspect that is true for all of us.

All those couples that I married in the past probably soon discovered that the salty flavour that was so evident on their wedding day was not always there, at least with the same intensity, in the years to come.  Circumstances would arise, often beyond their control, which would challenge their relationship.   
Some time ago, when Mary Anne and I were on a retreat in Kentucky, the retreat director spoke about it in this way. He told us that our spiritual journey is more like a zig zag line where we often veer off centre.  And he went on to compare it with the voyage of one of those ancient tall ships of the past as they crossed the ocean relying only on the sun and stars to guide them. They would start out with the greatest of intention, but because of storms at sea, they would often be blown of course until they realized a correction had to be made.  And when they made this correction, they would often over compensate, and then would have to back track.  At times clouds or fog would block their vision of the sun and stars, and they would go off course again.  And perhaps at times, the person steering the ship was just not paying attention, too much partying below deck, and they would again lose their direction and have to back track. But through persistence and patience, most ships would make the appropriate adjustments, and eventually reach their destination.
He went on to explain that our spiritual lives are something like that as well.

We encounter storms that temporarily blow us off course and leave us tossing about for a time. Perhaps a loss of a job, a death of a loved one, an unwanted pregnancy, an unexpected illness. At times, we may become inattentive, spending too much time on activities that were not healthy for us, and later realizing that we needed to make some important changes. And at time, perhaps the fog and confusion caused by inappropriate relationships or a pursuit of things grab too much of our attention causing us to leave more important priorities behind. But if during these times, we allow Jesus to be the light to guide us, and we make the necessary corrections when needed, we can get our lives back on track. But like the couple beginning a new marriage relationship, we have to give this a priority. We have to work at it.
The tall ships that crossed the ocean that I spoke about earlier had guide posts to help it in its journey. They had the stars at night, the sun by day, and probably a basic compass to keep in as much as possible on track. In our spiritual journey, we need guide posts as well.  

Three things that I have found personally necessary in my own life to help keep me on track are 1. Personal prayer, and I mean daily; 2. Sharing time with other people of faith, most often by being a part of a small group like this one; and 3. Attending church to be nourished by his word and by the sacrament of Christ’s Body and Blood. Without these three guide posts, I’m not sure where I would be.

There’s a song we often sing in church, in fact we’ve sung it during our group meetings here that, for me, speaks of this.  It’s called Christ our Light: Longing for light, we wait in darkness.  Longing for truth, we turn to you.  Make us your own, your holy people, light for the world to see. Christ be our light; Shine in our hearts, Shine through the darkness.  Christ be our Light. Shine in your Church gathered today.”  To be ‘light of the world’ and ‘salt of the earth’, as Jesus tells us we are, we as individuals and as a society need to acknowledge, and be willing to share with others what we ourselves have received. Let us pray that this flavour, this joy of the Lord may be truly alive in all of us.

Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God – 254

 

Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God – January 1, 2023

Happy New Year everyone.  This year, we have the unusual situation of New Year’s day falling on a Sunday: As a result, for this Sunday mass, we are celebrating the Solemnity of Mary, Holy Mother of God instead of the usual Feast of the Holy Family.  I understand that the next time that this will happen is 2033, so it is worthy of noting as we begin this new year, and perhaps a rare opportunity to focus on this important solemnity of Mary, Mother of God.  

In Psalm 119, there is a beautiful line that I’m sure you are all familiar with: “Your Word, oh Lord, is a lamp for my feet, and a light for my path.” “Your Word, oh Lord, is a lamp for my feet, and a light for my path.” This phrase is meant to emphasize the wisdom that comes from listening to and following God’s Word. God’s Word becomes a lamp that keeps our feet from stumbling over the unseen obstacles in our path. God’s Word becomes the light that provides guidance and direction we need for our journey.  I believe we can all acknowledge as well that Mary, the Holy Mother of God, is also a lamp for our feet and a light for our path.  She is that lamp, that light, perhaps not so much from what she has spoken, but from the faith and trust she exhibited during her whole life time in pondering, listening to and obeying God’s word spoken to her. In every aspect of her personhood, full of grace, she acts as intercessor, leading us to Jesus her Son. 
As Catholic Christians, we are very privileged to have that special connection to Mary, for it is not a connection that is shared by many other Christian denominations, and certainly not by our secular world. 

During my younger years of growing up in the country, I had the opportunity of attending some Sunday School classes at the local Baptist and United Churches. During these classes I don’t remember Mary ever being mentioned that much, except perhaps as being Jesus’ mother. At age 20, when I began to take Catholic instructions with Fr. Pienfettie at Canadian Martyrs Parish, it was then that I began to notice the special emphasis that the Catholic Church gave to Mary, particularly in the praying of the rosary, and the many prayers and special feast day offered to her.  And my curiosity was aroused at that time as to why this difference, and how did this difference come about. During this time as well, I remember a co-worker and good friend of mine, asking me: “Why do you Catholics give so much attention to Mary?  For us, Mary is just a person like ourselves. When we pray, we pray to Jesus or to God the Father. Very good questions, questions that I had no answer for at the time.
In my research that followed, I began to discover some of the answers to these questions which I would like to share with you briefly today.
 During the time of the reformation in the mid 1500, Martin Luther, in his response to errors that had crept into areas of the church, decreed that we are only saved by the actions of Grace, and not by works, or any kind or human action. This decree developed into a belief that the good works we humans do, in a response to faith, must never be attributed to the individual person, but only to God. 

 And those who thought that way quite naturally concluded that to honour Mary, the saints, for the good deeds they performed was to rob God of the glory, and to glorify a human person instead.

The Catholic position, on the other hand, has always been to recognize and insist on the basic goodness of human nature. We are part of God’s creation, and we are created for goodness.  But we cannot remain motionless in our response. As in any relationship, we must respond in kind. As a result, by the virtue of Grace, we work in cooperation with God and the Holy Spirit for our own salvation and the salvation of others. To think otherwise would be like believing that God created us hopelessly flawed and could only be saved by His action alone.  So the Catholic teachings related to Mary, and our devotions to her were quite simply acknowledging and following this ancient principle.  As a result, we continue to recognize and honour Mary, as a human person, who, through Grace, works in cooperation with God’s plan for salvation.  We honor Mary for her perfect response in faith in accepting to be Mother of God.  “I am the handmaid of the Lord.  Let it be done to me in accordance to your will.”    And we see Mary as specially chosen by God, to be the instrument of His Divine Plan.
The Church from the very beginning has always possessed a very strong connection to Mary and her role in the salvation event.  In fact, Mary’s title of Mother of God goes back to the Council of Ephesus in 431. It was through Mary, and through her intercession that many over the years have found the path to Christ and become followers of Jesus.   There is, it seems, an invisible mystical connection, between Jesus and His mother that draws us more deeply into drama of our Christian faith. 

We turn to Mary in our times of hardship and need, and pray that she may intercede for us to her Son.  Through Mary’s depth of faith and surrender to God, she becomes that icon of where we desire to be ourselves in matters of faith. In her assumption of both body and soul into heaven, she becomes the icon of where we desire to go, to enter that perfect union with the Father.
It seems strange to me that when our secular society recognizes our sports, music and movie stars by honouring them in Halls of Fame, that we should not also honor the Saints, whose faith and example have opened windows for us to touch the very source of life itself. And Mary, the Mother of God, the greatest of the saints, provides the clearest window we have to her Son Jesus, and His Kingdom.  She is that lamp for our feet and light for our path. Certainly, a human person like ourselves, but the person who became that perfect vessel to carry God’s greatest gift to us, her very own son Jesus. Our Gospel reading speaks of those special early moments in Jesus’ life where Mary was present; his birth, the visit from the shepherds, the giving of his name; all treasured moments that Mary pondered in her heart. Let us pray at the beginning of this new year that we do the same.   In celebration of this special solemnity, I invite you to share with me that prayer of the Queenship of Mary.

 Hail Holy Queen, Mother of mercy, Our life, our sweetness, and our hope. To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve. To thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears. Turn then, most gracious advocate, thine eyes of mercy toward us. And after this, our exile, show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus. O clement O loving O sweet Virgin Mary. 

V. Pray for us oh holy mother of God.
R. That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

Amen

 

Promotion of Diaconate "Come and See" 253

 

In today’s Gospel parable, the dishonest manager has been commended for his astuteness.  So what is this astuteness that he is admired for?  It’s that he takes the time to assess his situation and the people he is dealing with, and then doing what is necessary to turn it to his greatest advantage for himself.  On my first reading of this parable, I could imagine Jesus saying that in our own personal dealings, particularly with financial matters, many if not most of us can also be very astute. Don’t we expend considerable energy in looking at our own financial resources and expenses and the people we are dealing with, and then developing a plan that leads to the most beneficial use of our funds? And there is certainly nothing wrong in being astute about such things. But in commending the dishonest manager for his astuteness, I don’t think Jesus is referring to matters such as this. 

As Catholic Christians and followers of Christ, is Jesus not more interested in us using this gift of astuteness in order to become the best version of ourselves when it comes to faith; to live with purpose in the way God calls us, and to be a joyfully engaged in making God more visible in our own life and in the lives of others. Is this not the path of true happiness now, and in the eternal life with Him that follows?
This weekend in our Archdiocese of Halifax, the Archbishop has asked the Deacons to speak in all the churches about the permanent diaconate. As a lead up to this, I noticed that Deacon Grant has placed mini articles about the deacon in the St. Francis and St. Clare parish bulletin over the past several weeks. I hope you may have had an opportunity to read these summaries. If not, they are there for your review.

Deacons and Diaconate ministry in our day has a relatively short history.  Although diaconate ministry in the early church is mentioned in the book of Acts, it had all but disappeared by the middle ages except as a transitional stage towards being a priest. But the permanent diaconate was restored again after Vatican 11. Archbishop Hayes was instrumental in restoring it in our Archdiocese of Halifax in the early seventies. As a result, it has a relatively short history, and over the last 50 years or so, has been redefining itself.  In this process of redefining, I believe this ministry has been misunderstood in some circles; and perhaps at times, even by the Deacons themselves. 

From my conversations with people over the last 40 years, it seems that some think the deacon is one who has been elevated to a level in the church hierarchy that falls between a lay person and the priest. 

As a result, we were often described as a mini-priest.  And, of course, this is far from the true reality of being a deacon. So what is a Deacon?  By virtue of our baptism and our common desire to respond to Christ’s love, as Catholics, we are all called to serve in some capacity in our Church, the Body of Christ. This is done in any number of ways, mainly based on the gifts that God has given us for this mission.  One of these ways is through the ministry of Deacon, or service principally in the area of charity and social justice.  Therefore, it is not an elevation but more a movement towards a way of life or ministry that arose from the needs in the early church.  In Acts of the Apostles, Luke writes that the ministry came about as a result of problems that arose in the distribution of food. Some of the widows and orphans had been neglected in their needs, and the apostles, because of their own ministry, did not have time to deal with it:  So several men, which they called deacons, were chosen to explore this area of neglect and provide the service in this area of need. So the Deacon, in effect, became the hands and feet of the Bishop to handle details of ministry that he was unable to do himself.  Unfortunately, because of the church’s current shortages in the areas of priestly ministry, the Deacon was often used to supplement these shortages.  So it has become the custom of many Deacons to minister in pastoral and parish roles that were previously attended to by the Priest.  

However, it is normal for the Deacon to be involved in areas of ministry such sacramental preparation and catechesis, to be presiders at weddings, baptisms, funerals, and liturgies of the Word with communion.  And deacons do have an official role to play at mass in proclaiming the Gospel, offering the intercessory prayers, and distribution from the cup. 

Brian Dunn, our current Archbishop has recently emphasized that he would like to see the Permanent Deacons refocus their primary ministry to areas of Charity and Justice which we have always done, but perhaps not to the extent that he is now suggesting.  So there is still further redefining going on.

On more of a personal note, my first interest in the Diaconate formation program came about in 1978 when I was 32 years old. At the time, Mary Anne and I had been married for 10 years, she was looking after our three children under 10 years of age, and I was working full time. She, being a cradle catholic and me being the convert, most faith matters regarding the children fell into her hands

The most common question that I’ve been asked is why the diaconate formation program at such a pivotal and busy time of life for both of us.  I guess the only quick explanation that I can give is that I had become enthralled with this person of Jesus Christ.  A few years previous to this, I had a personal encounter with Christ that had a profound effect on my life; an encounter that radically changed the whole direction that my life was going. 

You might say that as a result of this encounter and the relationship with Jesus that was formed through prayer, I became more engaged in my faith and began to explore a deeper prayer life and new possibilities for ministry in the church.  We were involved in quite a few activities in our parish at St. Thomas More during this time, and through discussions with others, the permanent diaconate formation came up as a possible avenue for further growth towards ministry. 

After some serious prayer and ongoing discussions with Mary Anne, we together decided to proceed in this direction and see where it might take us. I didn’t enter formation with the thought “I want to be a Deacon.” I entered the program to discern if this was an avenue for us as a family.  Is this where God was calling us? 

The formation years that followed became a life-line for all of us. With the other candidates and their families, we became part of a like-minded community where we shared many life-giving experiences.  This eventually led to my acceptance for ordination in 1982.  Like I said previously, Diaconate ministry for us was not so much focused on duties and roles to be assumed, but on a way of life to be adopted. Our sons were involved in church before and after this time, two being altar servers and the oldest playing in a youth band at mass.  I had them in my catechism classes for confirmation  preparation, and worked on the youth groups they attended. As a deacon, I participated in their weddings, and where possible, the baptism of their children. 

Mary Anne and I worked on marriage and baptism preparation programs, and she joined me in my first assignment as Chaplin of the Frederick Fraser School for the Visually Impaired where we celebrated liturgies with the children and involved ourselves in sacramental preparation for some who were living away from home. We shared formation weekends together along with the annual deacons and wives retreats.  Also we shared the responsibilities of most of our committee work, one being the Spiritual Life Committee which arranged retreats and study days for the Deacons and their families.

So why am I telling you all this.  On October 1 at St. Ignatius Church in Bedford, there will be a “come and see” session for those of you who may be curious about diaconate formation and the ministry of Deacon. If you are somewhere between 30 and 60 years old, and are currently seeking a deeper prayer life and a direction for church ministry, this session may be for you. At least it will respond to any questions you may have.  If you are married, speak to your wife about it, or if you know someone who may be interested in exploring this as an avenue for ministry, please let them know and invite them to this session. For those interested, or who know someone who may be interested, I have a single page information sheet at the back of the church which you are welcome to take with you. The Diaconate formation process has recently changed to a five year cycle; so this invitation will not be extended again until after this upcoming five years program is complete. So if you or someone you know may be interested, it is important that you consider this opportunity.  Our prayers are with you. and may God bless you all in your discernment.