Reverence

(Fifth Sunday of the Year (C): This homily was given on Sunday, February 9, 2025 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Isaiah 6:1-8; Luke 5:1-11.)

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

What do all these people have in common? 

• Jack comes into church before Mass from the side door, walks by the tabernacle, and immediately takes his seat in the first pew.
• Jill comes in the front door, and immediately goes over to the statues and lights a candle.  Then she turns around and walks out.
• Joe sits in the last row and text-messages his friends many times during Mass.
• Jane chews gum while Mass is going on.
• James wears his weekday-worst instead of his Sunday-best when he comes to church for Mass.
• Jerry comes to Communion with his mind on the pretty girl in front of him and receives the Holy Eucharist without giving it a second thought and without making any gesture beforehand.
• John comes to Mass late every week—although he could easily be on time; and he leaves early.
• Justine talks more to her friends than to God when she comes to Sunday Liturgy.
• Finally, Jacob comes to Mass faithfully each week, but only out of obligation and not because he thinks he needs it.

So, what do all these people have in common?

They all get on Father Ray’s nerves, right?

Well, yes, that is true—people like that do get on my nerves (and on the nerves of most other priests!); however that’s not the answer I’m looking for.

What they all have in common is a lack of proper reverence for God!  Perhaps it’s not intentional; in fact, in most cases it probably isn’t intentional—but it’s a lack of reverence nonetheless.

How different Isaiah and Peter were!  In our first reading from Isaiah 6, the prophet sees a vision of God on his heavenly throne, with a multitude of angels all around him singing his praises, and he’s so awestruck that he thinks he’s about to die!  He cries out, “Woe to me, I am doomed!  For I am a man of unclean lips living among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!”

Peter in today’s gospel text has a similar reaction after Jesus works a fish-catching miracle for him and his friends!  After catching nothing the previous night, the future apostles throw their nets over the side of the boat at the command of Jesus, and they immediately catch so many fish that their boat almost sinks.

And just like Isaiah, Peter responds with reverence and awe.  He falls to his knees in a sign of worship and says, “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!”

That, incidentally, was a prayer which Jesus Christ did not answer—thank God.  We may abandon the Lord at times, but he never abandons us, as he never abandoned Peter.

In this Holy Year, that’s an important message for us to share with those who have been away from Christ and the sacraments for an extended period of time.  They need to know that there’s hope for them.  They need to know that the Lord has not abandoned them and wants them to come home—soon!

Coming back now to those people I mentioned at the beginning.

What was the problem with Jack, the guy who came in the side door, walked by the tabernacle, and took his seat in the front row?

He forgot to genuflect to the Eucharistic Presence of Jesus Christ in the tabernacle!  Any time we pass in front of a tabernacle in a Catholic Church, we are supposed to genuflect on our right knee—out of reverence to Jesus Christ, who is present there body, blood, soul and divinity!

What about Jill, the woman who came in the front door, went over to the statues, lit a candle, and then walked out?

Well, her mistake was similar to Jack’s!  Before we light a candle and seek the intercession of a saint, we should genuflect toward the tabernacle out of reverence to the one—Jesus Christ—who made the saints saints! 

And believe me, that’s exactly what Mary and Joseph and Pius X and all the other canonized saints of the Church would tell us to do!

Jesus first!

The lack of reverence shown by Joe, the text-messager, Jane the gum-chewer and Justine the chronic-talker should be obvious.  At least I hope their lack of reverence is obvious!

James, who always wears his weekday-worst to Mass lacks reverence because he could easily make himself more presentable if he wanted to.  If he were meeting the president or the governor or a famous celebrity, I’m sure he would dress a little better than he does for Jesus.

John who constantly comes in late and always leaves early lacks reverence because he’s not giving the Lord his best effort.  But God deserves our best effort in everything—because he’s God.

Jerry, who comes to Communion with his mind on the pretty girl in front of him and who receives the Holy Eucharist without giving it a second thought, demonstrates a lack of reverence by not making the effort to focus his mind on Jesus, and by failing to make an act of reverence (like a head bow) before he receives.

Jacob’s lack of reverence might not be so obvious, but it’s present nonetheless.  It’s present in his attitude.  He’s there at Mass each Sunday only out of obligation, not because he recognizes the deep need he has for God and his saving grace.

Isaiah and Peter were just the opposite, weren’t they?  Because of the incredible reverence and awe they had toward the Lord, they were extremely conscious of their need for forgiveness and salvation.

That comes through clearly in both the first reading and the gospel.

Today, at this Mass—and especially after Communion when we return to our pew to pray—let us ask the Lord to give us a spirit of reverence—deep reverence.

Because if we learn to be reverent toward Jesus in here—the Jesus who is present in his Word and in the Eucharist—we will in all likelihood become more reverent toward the Jesus out there: the Jesus who is present in the people we live with and work with and interact with every day.

 

’You Can Pick Your Friends, But You Can’t Pick Your Relatives’: The Spiritual Truth Of That Statement

(Third Sunday of the Year (C): This homily was given on Sunday, January 26, 2025 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Nehemiah 8:1-12; Psalm 19:8-15; 1 Corinthians 12:12-30; Luke 1:1-4; 4:14-21.)

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

There’s an old saying: “You can pick your friends, but you can’t pick your relatives.”  Today I’m here to tell you that there’s more truth in that statement than most people realize.  We all know the obvious application—Uncle Bill slurps his soup at a classy restaurant, then gives an earthquake-causing belch when the meal’s over; cousin Jane wears her hair like “Cousin It” of “Addams Family” fame; our son dresses up for the wedding, looking like something from the “Twilight Zone” or “The Outer Limits.”  We observe this type of behavior and, in complete frustration and helplessness, we throw up our hands and say, “Oh well.  You can pick your friends, but, unfortunately, you can’t pick your relatives.”

That’s the use of the saying that we’re all familiar with.  But there’s actually a deeper, more spiritual truth present in these words, and that’s what I’d like to focus on this morning. 

In today’s second reading from 1 Corinthians 12, St. Paul writes (and here I’m using a slightly different translation than the one we just heard): “The body is one and has many members, but all the members, many though they are, are one body; and so it is with Christ.  It was in one spirit that all of us, whether Jew or Greek, slave or free, were baptized into one body.”  Then, later on, he adds: “You, then, are the body of Christ.  Every one of you is a member of it.” 

Now, at first glance, those thoughts might not seem to be very challenging.  But do not be fooled!  There are some heavy-duty implications to what Paul says here.  He tells us that we have been baptized into “one body”.  Do you know what that means in practical terms?  It means that we’re all spiritual relatives.  So look around--take a good look at your family!  Some of you are thinking, “Oh no!  Not her!  Not him--don’t tell me I’m related to that guy!”  Well, I’m not telling you that, St. Paul is.  Hopefully, you’re now seeing the deeper implications of that saying, “You can pick your friends, but you can’t pick your relatives!”  Spiritually, everyone is related to us--like it or not!

But, Fr. Ray, what about people who are not baptized?  To answer that question, let me quote something that Pope Benedict said when he was still Cardinal Ratzinger.  He said, “A human being is a being that can become the brother or sister of Jesus Christ.”  But—think about it—when does the life of a human being begin?  It begins at the moment of conception.  So, at the moment of conception, every person automatically becomes a potential member of the body of Christ, and a potential brother or sister to us.  Consequently, that’s how we should think of them.

This means that in the spiritual order every homeless person is my relative; every sick man and woman in the local nursing home is my relative; every prisoner is my relative; Vladimir Putin is my relative; even my enemies are my relatives.

Now this does not mean that we have to approve of everything our spiritual relatives do.  St. Paul says here that “If one member [of the body] suffers, all suffer with it.”  That line applies not only to physical and emotional suffering; it also applies to sin.  Sin hurts the entire body of Christ.  My sins affect the lives of the other members of the body; their sins have a negative impact on my life.  And so, as Scripture says, we need to “admonish one another.” (Col. 3: 16).  Practically speaking, that means we should always “hate the sin, but love the sinner”—because the sinner is related to us, like it or not!

Let me direct your attention now to one other interesting statement that St. Paul makes in this chapter of First Corinthians.  He says, “God has set each member of the body in the place he wanted it to be.”  Yet another simple sentence with some powerful implications.  Paul is telling us here that God has a plan--a plan for our individual and corporate good.  It reminds me of what God said in Jeremiah 29: “I know well the plans I have in mind for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare, not for woe! Plans to give you a future full of hope.”  Now Paul implies here that everyone, without exception, has a specific and necessary role to play if God’s purpose is to be realized.  “God has set each member of the body in the place he wanted it to be.”  Paul began this chapter by talking about the unique set of gifts that God gives to each of us.  Those gifts, he said, are to be used “for the common good”—in other words, to help fulfill God’s good plan. 

But I ask you this morning: what if a person is killed in the womb?  What if he is murdered through an abortion?  What will happen to the unique contribution which that individual is supposed to make to the human family?  Based on this text of St. Paul, the answer is: it will not be made.  I saw a cartoon once that made this point very powerfully.  A man looks up to heaven and cries out, “God, why haven’t you sent us people with cures for cancer and other serious diseases, and with answers to world hunger and all our social problems?”  A voice comes from heaven: “I did.”  The man says, “But where are they?”  The Lord responds, “You aborted them!”

I often wonder if that’s what happened to the person who would have discovered the cure for Parkinson’s Disease.

“You can pick your friends, but you can’t pick your relatives.”  When people say that about members of their biological families, they usually say it in sadness: “Oh poor me, I’m stuck with Uncle Bill and his bad table manners for life.”  But, spiritually, we should actually be happy and grateful that everyone is a member (or potential member) of the family.  Because this reminds us that God loves everyone equally and perfectly.  As Paul says here, “Even those members of the body which seem less important are in fact indispensable.”  And so God loves us, not for what we are, but because of who we are: individuals created in his image, and unique members (or potential members) of his Son’s body.  Let us pray today that we will understand this marvelous truth and apply it to our lives.  Let’s pray that, whenever we see another human being, we will think, “that’s my relative,” and be happy about it--even if the person does slurp his soup!

 

“The past is history, the future is a mystery, but today is a gift—that’s why they call it ‘the present’”: How These Words Apply to Baptism

 

(Baptism of the Lord (C): This homily was given on January 12, 2025 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Isaiah 42:1-7; Titus 2:11-14; 3: 4-7; Luke 3:15-16, 21-22.)

 [For the audio version of this homily, click here: Baptism of the Lord 2025]

The past is history, the future is a mystery, but today is a gift—that’s why they call it “the present.”

Some of you may remember that line from the movie, Kung Fu Panda—although that was not the first time it was used. 

I mention it today on this Feast of the Baptism of the Lord, because, believe it or not, this well-known expression is also very “baptismal,” as I hope to make clear in a few moments.

There are, of course, a number of differences between the baptism that Jesus experienced 2,000 years ago and the baptism we experience as contemporary Christians.

His was the baptism of John; ours is sacramental baptism.  He didn’t need baptism of any kind; we need baptism in some form in order to be saved.  He in a certain sense “sanctified the water” when he received his baptism; we are sanctified by the water when we receive ours.

Jesus was baptized in humble submission to the Father’s will, not because he needed forgiveness for his sins—since he had no sins to be forgiven for!  He was not a sinner; although he was willing to look like one by receiving John’s baptism in the Jordan that day, prefiguring what would happen at the end of his ministry, when he would once again look like a sinner in his death on the cross.

Which brings us back to that line from Kung Fu Panda, and its application to the baptism we receive today as Catholic Christians: a baptism that draws its power from the cross—and resurrection—of Jesus: The past is history, the future is a mystery, but today is a gift—that’s why they call it “the present.”

Take the first phrase: The past is history.  We all have “a past,” don’t we?  Some of us, of course, have a more colorful and eventful past than others.  Do we appreciate the power of baptism to take a person’s evil past and consign it to the dustbin of history?  In other words, do we appreciate the complete and total forgiveness that baptism brings to us?  Many of us might not, since we were infants when we received the sacrament, and so we didn’t have any “past” to be forgiven for.  But we still did suffer from original sin—that is, the lack of sanctifying grace—and that needed to be wiped away before we could have any hope of eternal life.

And besides that, in the years since our baptisms we’ve all been forgiven for a lot of sins in the sacrament of confession (at least I hope we have!).  Well, believe it or not, at the root of that forgiveness is baptism!  Remember, the only reason we can receive the forgiving grace of the sacrament of confession is because we’ve already received the saving grace of the sacrament of baptism. 

Baptism is the door to all the other sacraments; baptism makes confession possible. 

If a person is not baptized, then it’s baptism they need, not confession.  And when they are finally baptized all the sins of their past life are forgiven instantaneously—without ever being confessed!  That’s the power of this great sacrament!  Not only that, even the temporal punishment due to their sins is taken away (which means that if the person dies immediately after repenting of their sins and being baptized, there’s no need to pass through purgatory).

Perhaps it’s adult converts like Dr. Bernard Nathanson, who appreciate all this the most—because they really have a strong sense of what they’ve been delivered from.  Born in 1926, Dr. Nathanson was raised in a Jewish family, but eventually declared himself an atheist.  Back in the 1970s, as many of you know, he ran the largest abortion clinic in the world, located on the East Side of Manhattan, where he presided over approximately 75,000 abortions.

He even killed one of his own children.

He eventually became pro-life, not because he had faith—he was still an atheist at the time—but because he finally came to recognize the scientific truth that the fetus in the womb is a human being! 

However his past continued to eat at him.  In spite of all the pro-life work he began doing, he had no peace.  As he later said:

"I plunged into a very serious, profound depression. I found myself almost unable to go to work. I was deeply troubled by what I had done in my life. Another marriage was falling apart, my son was emotionally disturbed. I was getting older, and as I looked back all I could see was the baggage of 75,000 little lives interrupted and destroyed, and a great deal of adult lives that I had damaged. . . .I reached bottom spiritually in those years. . . . [and I seriously thought about suicide]. I felt there was really no reason to go on." 

His conversion happened over a period of time, with the help of a priest who’s been on EWTN from time to time over the years, Fr. John McCloskey.

Finally, on December 9, 1996, he was baptized—born again of water and the Spirit—at St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York City.  Cardinal John O’Connor officiated at the ceremony.

Dr. Nathanson described the experience in this way:

“It was a very difficult moment.  I was in a real whirlpool of emotion.  And then there was this healing cooling water on me, and soft voices, and an inexpressible sense of peace.  I had found a safe place. . . . For so many years I was agitated, nervous, intense.  My emotional metabolism was way up. Now I've achieved a sense of peace.

“I can't tell you how grateful I am, what an unrequitable debt I have, to those who prayed for me all those years when I was publicly announcing my atheism and lack of faith.  They stubbornly, lovingly, prayed for me. I am convinced beyond any doubt that those prayers were heard.  It brought tears to my eyes.”

The past is “history” the moment a person is baptized.  Dr. Bernard Nathanson definitely understood that; hopefully we do as well.

As for the future, that’s a mystery.  It was a mystery for Dr. Nathanson and it’s a mystery for all of us.  And that will be the case until our time on this earth comes to an end.  None of us knows the future.  But because we have a relationship with Jesus Christ—a relationship that’s rooted in our baptism—we have power available to us: the power to help us face the mystery—and the uncertainties of life—with faith and courage.  As St. Paul put it in Philippians 4:13, “I can do all things in Christ, who strengthens me.”  St. John conveyed a similar idea in his first letter when he said, “Who indeed is the victor over the world but the one who believes that Jesus is the Son of God?”

Which brings us to the gift that is today.  Today is where we live, is it not?  We may think about the future, and we may reflect on the past, but what we do now is what’s most important, because the now is all that we’re guaranteed.  The Bible tells us to make the most of every opportunity—and that means making the most of every opportunity NOW!

Sometimes, of course, we human beings don’t do that.  We delay doing things we know we should do right away: we delay repentance; we delay acts of charity; we delay making the positive changes we know we should make in our lives.  In other words, we do not make the most of the opportunities God gives us in the gift that is “today”.

But it doesn’t have to be that way.  Once again, if we’re living in a relationship with Jesus Christ—a relationship that’s rooted in baptism—he will remind us of what we should be doing NOW (whether we want to be reminded of it or not), and he will give us the grace, through prayer and the sacraments, to follow through on our good intentions.

And he will help us to be more grateful for everything—even the crosses and challenges we experience.

"The past is history, the future is a mystery, but today is a gift—that’s why they call it “the present.”

O Lord, help us to remember how these words apply to the sacrament of baptism, and help us to live our lives accordingly—beginning right now—in the present moment—at this Mass!  Amen. 

 

Good News is not always good news; at the same time Good News is always good news!

(Epiphany 2025: This homily was given on January 5, 2025 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Matthew 2:1-12.)

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

Here are two statements that seem to contradict one another.  When you hear them, you will probably be thinking that only one of them can possibly be true, but I assure you that both of them are.

Statement #1: Good News is not always good news.

Statement #2: Good News is always good news.

Fr. Ray, how can both of those ideas be true at the same time? 

It’s because one of the statements (the first one, to be exact) has to do with “perception,” while the other statement concerns “reality.” 

Let me now explain.

Just in case anyone is unclear about it, the “Good News” referred to at the beginning of these two statements is the Gospel.  In fact, that’s what the word “Gospel” means—Good News: the good news about who Jesus is and what he’s done for us, and the good news about how to get to heaven.

But when is this Good News not good news for a particular person?

It’s when that particular person does not want to change his or her life!  It’s when that particular person is committing a certain sin that he or she does not want to repent of.

Then the person perceives the Good News as bad news!  As I said a few moments ago, Good News is not always good news!

This, incidentally, is one reason why a priest will sometimes receive a less-than-charitable email or note after he delivers a homily.  Of course, he might get a letter like that simply because he gave a bad homily—that is certainly possible; but more often than not those letters come because the message of the homily struck a ‘spiritual nerve,’ so to speak.  The Good News of the Gospel is the good news of God’s incredible mercy, but for mercy to be experienced, sin has to be acknowledged—and that acknowledgement can sometimes be difficult.

Just ask King Herod.

We just heard how the Magi proclaimed “good news” to him when they arrived in Jerusalem 2,000 years ago: The Messiah had come!  The Savior of the world—the King of kings and the Lord of lords—had been born.  They knew that because they had observed his star in the heavens.  It’s an historical fact that even many pagans in the first century expected a great king to be born in their lifetime—it was not only the Jews who had this expectation—and many of these pagans believed that the birth of this new king would be indicated by a special sign in the heavens.

Herod should have been happy about all this.  His reaction should have been, “Halleluiah!  Praise God!  We have waited for our Messiah for centuries!  Thank God he’s arrived!  What a privilege I have to be able to welcome him into this world!”

But that was not his response, was it?

Rather, the Bible tells us that he was “greatly troubled”; other translations say that he was “greatly disturbed.”

In other words, he was angry and upset and didn’t like it one bit!  Amazingly, for Herod, this good news was really, really bad news!  That was his perception.  It was his perception because he was a selfish, power-hungry person and didn’t want to change his ways! 

Do you know that this particular Herod (one of 4 Herods mentioned in the Bible) murdered his own wife and 3 of his own children (and a number of other people as well!)?  He did that because he was deathly afraid that they were plotting to take over his kingdom.  Fear ruled his life, not faith.

It was that same fear that led him to slaughter the Holy Innocents when the Magi failed to return to him after their visit to Bethlehem.

And yet, in spite of Herod’s skewed perception, in reality the Good News of the Savior’s birth was still good news!  It wasn’t good news to him, but it was good news nonetheless.  The Messiah had still come to him to offer him eternal salvation.  Yes, even him!  His messed-up perception didn’t change that fact.  This is why I said at the very beginning that both statements are true: Good news is not always good news to us (if, like Herod, we don’t want to face our sin); but, even if we have the wrong perception—even if we see things upside down like Herod did—in reality the Good News is always good news! 

That’s why repentance is always possible for us, and why forgiveness is always available to us—until our dying breath.

But we need to reach out for it.

I once heard the confession of a man who wrote me a letter—a very nice letter—afterward.  In that letter he said this: “Many thanks for hearing my confession on Saturday afternoon. . . . I can understand why this is such an unpopular sacrament and why procrastination is so common.  It’s a bit like repeatedly canceling a dental appointment to get a decayed tooth pulled until it really begins to throb.  I put off going to confession to get my sins ‘pulled’ until my conscience begins to throb.  As you suggested, more frequent spiritual check-ups are probably the better approach.”

Have you ever had a “throbbing conscience?”

Do you have one now?

From what we know historically, King Herod never had his sins ‘pulled.’  For him the Good News remained bad news, and he lived and died in his fear.

God wanted something better for him, as he wants something better for us.

That “something better” comes with regular spiritual check-ups.  Then the good news of God’s mercy becomes really, really good news for us, because we experience that mercy personally through repentance and through confession—which is the cure for a throbbing conscience.