Make Sure that You’re Planning FAR ENOUGH Ahead

(Eighteenth Sunday of the Year (C): This homily was given on August 3, 2025 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Ecclesiastes 1:2; 2:21-23; Psalm 90:3-17; Colossians 3:1-11; Luke 12:13-21.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Eighteenth Sunday 2025]

We’re often told that we should “Plan ahead.”

“You should plan ahead for your child’s education.”

“You should plan ahead for your medical care.”

“You should plan ahead for emergencies.”

“You should plan ahead for a hurricane.”

“You should plan ahead for your retirement.”

Planning ahead is normally a good thing—a very good thing.  It’s something we’re commended for.  It’s a sign of the fact that we’re taking personal responsibility for our lives.  It’s also an act (or a series of actions) through which we exercise a very important virtue: the virtue of prudence.  Given the uncertainties of life on planet earth, it’s prudent for a person to plan ahead.  Planning ahead can even be a moral mandate in certain circumstances.  Children, for example, need parents who will plan ahead for them in a responsible manner—especially when they’re very young.  That’s why many parents set up college funds for their children right after birth!  Given the ridiculous costs associated with getting a college education these days (and it’s probably only going to get worse), good parents know they need to plan ahead for their children NOW—not 18 years down the road. 

So I ask you, if planning ahead is such a good thing, why was Jesus so critical of the man in today’s gospel parable—this wealthy man who had an abundant harvest?  Shouldn’t the guy have been commended for working so hard?  Shouldn’t Jesus have praised him for being so industrious, and for doing such a great job of planning ahead? 

After all, it sounds like he was set for life!  He didn’t even need an IRA or 401(k)—or to buy any gold from Lear Capital!

So, what was the problem?

Well, believe it or not, I don’t think the issue for Jesus was that the man had planned ahead—I don’t think that was the problem at all.  I believe the problem that Jesus had with this man was that the guy hadn’t planned far enough ahead!  He was planning ahead for the next 40 or 50 years—or for however long he expected to live in this world, but his existence was not going to come to an end with his physical death.  After his death—which came a lot sooner than he expected—he was going to have to face Almighty God in judgment, and after being judged by the Lord he was going to face eternity.  And from what Jesus says here it doesn’t sound like this man was ready for those experiences, since his life was ruled by greed and not by charity.  He was rich in worldly treasure but not rich in what matters to God.

The lesson here for us is simple.  The Lord is saying to each of us today, “Yes, make sure that you plan ahead in all the ways that you need to plan ahead in your earthly life, but in the process always make sure that you are planning far enough ahead.”

In other words, we need to make sure that we’re always planning ahead for God’s merciful judgment—so that, whenever it comes (today or many years from now) we will be ready.

And how, exactly, do we do that?  How do we plan ahead for judgment?

We plan ahead, first of all, by striving to grow in our relationship with the Lord every day.  We plan ahead by taking our Catholic Faith seriously and by applying it to every aspect of our lives—including our conduct at home and at work, and including our political views.  We plan ahead by loving our neighbors as we love ourselves, by practicing forgiveness, and by being concerned for those less fortunate than we are (something the rich man in this parable was not).

And we plan ahead by repenting when we fail in these areas—which we all do at times.  On that note, it reminds me of the “Mercy Equation” that I shared with you during the Jubilee Year of Mercy back in 2015.

Recognition + Repentance = Reception.

That equation has an application in this context. 

If we recognize our sins (and the fact that Jesus died for them), and then sincerely repent of those sins, we will receive mercy from the Lord.

Recognition of our sins + Repentance for those sins, leads to the Reception of God’s mercy.

And receiving that mercy is an absolute necessity if we want to plan ahead properly for God’s judgment—that is to say, if we want to go to heaven.   This is one reason why confession is so important.

I’ve often said, if we want to live life successfully forwards (which I think we all do), then we need to think backwards.  In other words, we have to begin by thinking about the goal we want to attain, and then reflect back on the steps we need to take to get to that goal from wherever we’re at right now.

Which is the principle that should guide every decision we make in this life—including the decision to repent of our sins.  We should ask ourselves, “Is this decision going to bring me one step closer to my goal (which is heaven, of course), or will it take me down another road to another place—a place where I definitely don’t want to go?

The rich man in this parable didn’t think of that question when he made the decision to greedily store up his harvest for himself and forget about everyone else.

That night, when he took his final breath and met the Lord face-to-face, I’m sure he wished he had done otherwise.

He planned ahead for a lot of things.  Unfortunately, however, he failed to plan ahead for the most important thing of all, the judgment of God.

He planned ahead, but he didn’t plan far enough ahead.

My prayer at this Mass is that each and every one of us in this church this morning will learn from this rich man’s mistake. 

If God Knows What We Need Before We Ask Him, Then Why Do We Have To Ask Him For Things?

 

(Seventeenth Sunday of the Year (C): This homily was given on July 27, 2025 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Genesis 18:20-32; Luke 11:1-13.)  

 [For the audio version of this homily, click here: Seventeenth Sunday 2025]

Tom and Joanne, both 60 years of age, were celebrating their 35^th wedding anniversary, when suddenly an angel from heaven appeared to them.  The angel congratulated them and said, “God is so pleased with the two of you, that he’s given me permission to grant each of you one wish.”

Joanne said, “O that’s wonderful.  I wish that Tom and I had tickets for a romantic cruise that would take us all the way around the world.”

The angel said, “So be it”—and he handed Joanne two first class cruise tickets.

“And what about you, Tom?”

Tom replied, “I wish that my wife was 30 years younger than I am.”

The angel said, “So be it”—and Tom immediately became 90-years-old!

You might call that “a prayer of petition gone bad!”

There’s an old saying (and there is a lot of truth in it): Be careful what you ask for!

But this does raise an interesting question: Why do we need to ask at all?  We say that we believe in a God who knows everything.  Well, if that’s true—if Almighty God knows everything that we need before we ask him (as Jesus says he does in Matthew 6:8)—then why do we have to ask at all?  Why doesn’t the Lord just give us everything we need instantaneously and simplify the process?

Have you ever wondered about those things?

Probably most people have (at least most believers have) at some point in their lives.

This morning I share with you four reasons why: four reasons why God wants us to ask.  Now please don’t misunderstand: these are not the only reasons there are.  I’m sure that some of you could think of others, if you spent some quality time reflecting on the matter, as I did in preparation for this homily.  These are simply the ones that I would focus on, if someone came up to me and said, “Fr. Ray, why does God want me to pray prayers of petition, if he already knows all my needs?”

The first reason is this: Prayers of petition make us aware of our need for God.  They make us aware of the fact that we are not self-sufficient: that we need God’s grace in every situation of our lives.  The constant temptation we face in this life, of course, is to think just the opposite.  (This is one reason, by the way, why most Catholics don’t come to Mass every Sunday.  They don’t think they need it!)  And I’m convinced that this temptation to think that we don’t need God would increase a hundredfold, if we received everything from the Lord without asking.  The gifts would be from God, yes that’s true—but we probably wouldn’t recognize that fact.  So the bottom line is this:  God doesn’t need to be told what we need, but we need to know that we need him—and asking helps us to have that knowledge, that awareness.

Reason number 2 why God wants us to ask: Asking helps us to grow in faith.  Asking helps us to grow in our relationship with God.   In today’s first reading, Abraham intercedes for the people of Sodom.  He starts off by asking the Lord to spare the city if there are 50 innocent people living in it.  God says he will.  And that affirmative response from the Lord increases Abraham’s faith—so much so that he then asks, “Well, what if there are only 45 righteous people in the city?  Would you be willing to spare it for their sakes?”  God says yes again.  This increases Abraham’s faith even more, leading him eventually to the point of asking God to spare Sodom if there are only 10 good people left in the place.  Unfortunately, as we all know, there weren’t.  Remember, this is the city from which we get the modern English word “sodomy”—but the point here is that Abraham’s trust and confidence in the Lord grew much stronger through his verbal exchange with God, through this experience of asking the Lord again and again and again.

Those of you who are parents: When your children need something (when they really need something) and they come to you and they ask and you give it to them—your relationship with them grows stronger, does it not?  Their trust in you—their confidence in you—increases. 

Well, the same is true of our relationship with God.

Which brings us to reason number 3 why God wants us to ask: Because our God is a Father, not a tyrant!  A tyrant imposes things on others.  God doesn’t impose things—even good things—on anybody!  Like a loving Father, he simply offers them to us.  He gives them to us if we want them—and if we ask for them.  That’s why Jesus encourages us in today’s gospel to ask, to seek and to knock—and to do so persistently and perseveringly!

Finally, God wants us to ask him for things in prayer because we are his co-workers!  This is an idea that St. Paul, St. John the apostle and Pope Benedict XVI would all understand very well.  In 1 Corinthians 3, Paul calls himself God’s “co-worker”; and in his third letter St. John talks about us being “co-workers of the truth.”  That last expression also happens to be the biblical phrase that Joseph Ratzinger (who eventually became Pope Benedict XVI) took as his episcopal motto.

We are called God’s co-workers because we are to have an active role in fulfilling the Lord’s plan of salvation for the human race.  God could have made us robots in a mechanical universe and worked out everything by himself; but he chose to create us as free human beings in a moral universe—a universe where we would have to freely and consciously choose the good and embrace it.  So if we believe that prayers of petition bring good things—blessings—into our lives and the lives of others (and we should), then those prayers are part and parcel of this partnership we have with God!  When we pray, in other words, we are acting as his “co-workers” in bringing his help and saving grace into the world.

So there you have it, four reasons why God wants us to ask: to make us aware of our need for him; to help us grow in faith; because he’s a Father, not a tyrant; and because we are his co-workers in this world.

Dear Lord, may these four reasons be reason enough—reason enough for us to take prayer and its power seriously, each and every day of our lives.  Amen.

 

 

 

And Who Is My Neighbor?

 

President Ronald Reagan (top) and John Hinckley

(Fifteenth Sunday of the Year (C): This homily was given on July 15, 2025 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Luke 10:25-37.)

 [For the audio version of this homily, click here: Fifteenth Sunday 2025]

 

“And who is my neighbor?”

This was the lawyer’s question to Jesus in today’s Gospel passage from Luke 10.  But this also needs to be our question!  Each of us needs to pose it and answer it in our own heart—honestly!—and then we need to compare our personal responses to the one Jesus gives in this text.

Now to properly understand Jesus’ answer, we need to “modernize” the main character of the story, the Samaritan.  We’re told in the parable that a man traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho was attacked and beaten by robbers, and then left to die on the side of the road.  This man—this innocent victim—was clearly Jewish, as were the two people who went by but refused to help (the priest and the Levite). 

The only one who stopped to lend a hand is identified as a “Samaritan.”  And he didn’t just put a Band Aid on the suffering Jew and then continue on his merry way; he treated the beaten man like a brother!  He cleaned his wounds and wrapped them in fresh bandages, and he provided for the man’s continued care. 

Now Scripture doesn’t tell us what the lawyer’s face looked like when he heard all this, but I’m quite certain he wasn’t smiling, because at the time most Jews and Samaritans hated each other!  In fact, I don’t think it would be a stretch to say that Jews and Samaritans of the first century normally had the same attitude toward one another that radical Islamic Fundamentalists (and groups like Hamas) currently have toward Jews and towards the citizens of the United States!

So, if you want to experience the force of Jesus’ message in the same way that the Jewish lawyer did who first heard the story, imagine two Americans neglecting a fellow citizen of theirs who had just been beaten and robbed, and a radical Islamic Fundamentalist coming to his aid and treating him like a member of his own family.

The point Jesus was making to the Jewish lawyer was simple: “Like it or not, Samaritans are people, too!  And all people have an inherent dignity, because they’ve been created in the image and likeness of God.  In that sense, everyone is your neighbor.” 

We currently live in a world where many people think of their neighbor as “everyone but . . .”—everyone but the unborn baby in the womb; everyone but the embryo with those stem cells I want; everyone but the person who has a skin color different than mine; everyone but the person who’s a member of this or that ethnic group; everyone but the person who’s a member of this or that religious organization; everyone but the person who hurt me and my family; everyone but the person who lives a sexually immoral lifestyle; everyone but [fill in the blank].

Do you know what always impressed me about Ronald Reagan?  It was that he considered John Hinckley to be his neighbor (in the sense that I’m using the term “neighbor” in this homily).  John Hinckley, of course, was the guy who tried to kill him back in 1981.  And yet, Reagan forgave Hinckley—publicly; he called him a “misguided young man,” and refused to allow hatred and bitterness to fill his heart.  He didn’t say that Hinckley should go free—nor should he have said that!—to let Hinckley go free at that time would have been a sin against justice.  But Reagan never forgot that Hinckley was a human being with an immortal soul.  In that he was just like our former Holy Father, Pope St. John Paul II, who forgave the man, Ali Acga, who shot him in St. Peter’s Square in May of that very same year, 1981.

And who is my neighbor? 

Jesus, in effect, said, “Everyone”; he did not say, “Everyone, but . . . “. 

What do you say?

 

The Mission of the 72 in Luke 10; the Mission of the Laity in the Church Today

(Fourteenth Sunday of the Year (C): This homily was given on July 6, 2025 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Luke 10:1-12, 17-20.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Fourteenth Sunday 2025]

What do you do to serve the Lord?

I think many lay Catholics would answer that question by telling you what they do in and around the church—“I’m a lector”; “I’m an extraordinary minister of Holy Communion”; “I’m an altar server”; “I’m a cantor”; “I sing in the choir”; “I’m on the parish finance council”.

Now please don’t misunderstand me—all these acts of service are good!  Lay people have essential roles to play in the liturgical and financial life of this and of every other parish.  But these roles are only secondary!  Even though they’re very important, they are not at the core of a lay person’s vocation in the Church.

In paragraph 898 of the Catechism, it says this (quoting one of the documents of Vatican II): “By reason of their special vocation it belongs to the laity to seek the kingdom of God by engaging in temporal affairs and directing them according to God’s will.”

Very simply, this means that if you’re a lay Catholic (and most of you are), then you are to live in the world, but you are not to be “of” the world; and you are to take your Catholic faith with you wherever you go.  That’s your primary calling!  Your faith, in other words, is to guide your personal life, your marital life (even in its private dimensions), your family life, your recreational life—and yes, even your life at work and/or at school.

When I was a deacon at St. Philip’s Church in Greenville in 1985, there was a lector at the parish who was involved in local politics.  He eventually became a big political figure at the state level; if I mentioned his name, many of you would recognize it immediately.  But this man was also pro-choice when it came to the issue of abortion.  Thankfully, he eventually was told he could no longer serve as a lector.  I mention him today because he’s a great example of a lay person who was “doing something for God” at Sunday Mass, but who was not doing for God what he really should have been doing for God out there in the world.  He was fulfilling a lay person’s “secondary role” very well—he was an excellent reader!—but he was failing miserably in fulfilling the primary role of a Catholic lay person in modern society. 

His problem, of course, was that he had “compartmentalized” his faith—as many Catholics today do!  In the words of Pope John Paul II—words that he wrote in his famous document on the laity, Christifideles Laici—this man had engaged in the “unwarranted separation of [his] faith from [his] life.”  (CL, 2)

I was reminded of the vocation of lay people as I reflected on today’s Gospel reading from Luke, chapter 10.  In this story, Jesus sent out 72 disciples on a special mission—a mission that was a little bit different from the one he had given to his 12 apostles.  Jesus told these 72 to go ahead of him to every town he intended to visit, to prepare the way for his arrival.  They weren’t supposed to lead services in synagogues; they were supposed to share their faith with people in a less formal manner, to prepare them to receive Jesus and his message.  That, of course, is exactly what you are supposed to do as Catholic lay people: by your words, actions and example—in the midst of your everyday activities—you are called to prepare others to receive Jesus and his message. 

I once spoke to a woman on the phone who wanted to register for the parish and have her daughter baptized.  That was wonderful.  But during the course of our conversation she indicated that she hadn’t practiced her faith in many years, and she had no intention of practicing her faith in the future.  Her idea was to have her daughter baptized, and then let her daughter decide what she wanted to be when she was old enough.  This woman obviously didn’t understand her role as a Catholic lay person!  As a mother, she was called to teach the faith to her child; she was called to be an example of faith and charity to her child—to prepare the way for Jesus to become the Lord of her child’s life! 

Parents, I hope that makes sense to you!  Jesus wants to visit your children and become the Lord of their lives—so he sends you ahead of him to prepare the way (like he sent the 72!).  Jesus wants to visit your workplace and change the lives of your co-workers, and so he sends you ahead of him to prepare the way.  Jesus wants to visit your school and change the lives of your fellow students, and so he sends you ahead of him to prepare the way.

Will everyone accept the message of faith and love that you offer?  Of course not!  Some—even perhaps in your family—will reject the truth of the Gospel, regardless of how lovingly and respectfully you present it to them!  Jesus made that fact clear to the 72. 

But the difficulty of the task doesn’t make it any less of an obligation! 

All of this makes me think of Blessed Carlo Acutis, who will be canonized a saint later this year.  Carlo was born in 1991 and died of leukemia in 2006 at the age of 15.  He was an ordinary person—a young, ordinary lay person—in so many ways: he enjoyed spending time with his friends; he loved to play sports; he loved animals; he played a musical instrument.  But in the midst of all those ordinary things, he had a strong and unwavering faith in and love for Jesus and the sacraments—which interestingly enough he did NOT get from his parents!  In fact, his mother says that when Carlo was born, she had only been to Mass 3 times in her entire life. Carlo evangelized her and her husband (he in essence fulfilled the mission of the 72 for them)—mostly by asking them questions about God that they couldn’t answer!  In an article that appeared in the National Catholic Register his mother was quoted as saying:

“[Carlo] pushed me to do research and to read. I began to take theology courses and reflect on life. I discovered the beauty of my faith. We are all on a journey in the spiritual life, but because of Carlo, I was inspired to start that journey.  Carlo saved me.”  Later on she added, “He read the Bible every day as well as the Catechism put together by Pope John Paul II. Carlo would say that the Bible was his compass. By the age of 11, he was teaching catechism to younger children.”

Of course, what Carlo is most known for around the world is the skill he had working with computers.  Some have called him a computer genius. Computers, as we all know, can be used for good or they can be used for evil.  Carlo used them for good.  As it said in the Register article, “Once he mastered computer programming, Carlo began to use it to spread the Catholic faith. He developed a website on Eucharistic miracles, which he worked on for four years. The website has a compilation of 196 stories of Eucharistic miracles. It has been turned into an exhibit that has traveled the world.”

That exhibit has even traveled here to Rhode Island.  Many of us, I’m sure, have been blessed to see it.  No doubt it’s led many people all over the world to open their hearts to Jesus and the Catholic faith.

So here we have an ordinary lay person—a teenager no less—fulfilling the mission of the 72 disciples—for his parents, and for people in many other places.  So it can be done—by anyone—at any age!

St. Luke tells us that when the 72 came back from the mission Jesus had given them, they had good news to report.  Yes, they had faced difficulty and opposition, but because of their efforts many people were healed and many lives were changed for the better.

Your mission as a lay person in 2025 is like the mission of the 72 in many respects, but it’s different in this one sense: their mission lasted only for a brief period of time; yours—like mine—lasts a lifetime.  When our missions are finally finished—on Judgment Day—we also will be asked to give a report to Jesus of what we’ve done in his service.  Let’s pray that when that moment comes we, like the 72—and like Blessed Carlo Acutis—will be able to tell Jesus lots of good news!