Parish Mission 2012

Fr. Isaac Spinharney

Fr. Isaac Spinharney and the Franciscan Friars of the Renewal led us in our parish Lenten mission this year.  The theme was, "Living our Faith in Jesus!"

To listen to Fr. Isaac's inspiring talks, click on the links below:

Talk 1: Who is Jesus?

Talk 2: Reconciliation

Talk 3: Healing

Talk 4: Homily at Closing Mass in Honor of Our Blessed Mother

Life Is a Process of ‘Letting Go’

(Second Sunday of Lent (B): This homily was given on March 4, 2012 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I. by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Genesis 22: 1-18.)

 [For the audio version of this homily, click here: Second Sunday of Lent 2012]

An elderly woman from the parish went to see her orthopedic surgeon a couple of weeks ago on a Friday morning.  She had been under his care—and homebound—for a few months after falling in her home and hurting her shoulder.  Well, happily, the doctor gave her a clean bill of health during that office visit, and she was looking forward to getting back to Sunday Mass and her normal routine.

But, unfortunately, shortly after she returned home that Friday, she tripped on a rug and fell again, this time breaking her pelvis and elbow!  The surgeon’s assistant later told me that when he received the call that this woman was in the emergency room at Westerly Hospital, he didn’t believe it.  He said to the nurse, “Oh no, that must be a mistake.  We just discharged her from our care a few hours ago.”

But, of course, it was not a mistake.

IT WAS LIFE!

For that elderly woman—and for each and every one of us—life is a process: a process of ‘letting go.’  Sooner or later, for example, we all have to ‘let go’ of many things.  We have to ‘let go’ of our physical health because of a fall—or because of Parkinson’s Disease or cancer or heart problems or something else. 

And it’s not easy.

Just ask that elderly woman!

We all have to ‘let go’ of loved ones when they die—which can be extremely hard if we’ve loved them deeply or had them in our lives for a really long time.  We’ve had a few deaths in our parish recently of people who were in their 90s.  The children of those parishioners were blessed to have their parents in their lives for 60 or 70 years.   

But that makes it all the more difficult for them to let go.

When people retire, they have to ‘let go’ of their work.  As we move on in life, we have to ‘let go’ of some of the recreational activities that brought us enjoyment in our earlier years.  We have to ‘let go’ of the control we’ve had over our daily activities.

Ultimately, we have to let go of what’s most precious to us on this earth.

Just like Abraham did.

In today’s first reading, we heard the famous story of how God tested Abraham by asking him to sacrifice his son, Isaac.

But we need to be clear about it: the test here was not, “Are you willing, Abraham, to kill your son for me?”—after all, we know that God never intended for Abraham to take his son’s life.

The test was about Abraham’s willingness to ‘let go’.  The Lord said to him, in effect, “Abraham, are you willing to let go of your son, Isaac?  He’s the child of the promise.  You waited 100 years to have him.  You love him deeply; you treasure him and the special bond you have with him more than anything else that you have in this life.  So, are you willing to let it all go?  Are you willing to let go of what’s most precious to you in this life and trust totally in me?”

We call Abraham “our father in faith” because he said yes—even though it had to have been the most difficult ‘yes’ he had ever said in his life.

In one way or another, we all face this very same test, don’t we?

Usually it involves someone we love.

But, unfortunately, not everyone responds like Abraham did.

As I was preparing for this homily, I thought of a scene from C.S. Lewis’ book, The Great Divorce—which, by the way, is not about marriage!

It’s a fictional book about an imaginary bus ride from hell to heaven.  All the people on the bus have the opportunity to go to heaven, but only if they ‘let go’ at some point on the journey.  First and foremost, of course, they have to be willing to let go of their sins thru repentance.  But they also have to be willing to let go of their attachments—their unhealthy, selfish attachments—to people and things; and at the same time they have to be willing to grow in their desire for God.

One person who has trouble doing this is a woman named Pam—whose son Michael died when she was still living on earth.  Her brother, Reginald, who’s already arrived in the kingdom, speaks to her at one point, and challenges her to love God first, and to let go of the selfish, possessive, manipulative love she had for her son when he was alive.  Reginald says to her, “[God] wanted you to love Michael as he understands love.  [And] you cannot love a fellow-creature fully till you love God.”  But Pam will hear none of it.  She blames God for her son’s death, and refuses to let go of that anger and the disordered love she had for her child.

A sad ending.  Thankfully other stories in The Great Divorce end much more happily!

There’s an old saying that most of us have heard before—and there’s a great deal of truth in it: Let go, and let God!

Pam did neither of those things.  Abraham did both—and because he did both he was rewarded beyond what he could possibly have imagined!

The Lord said to Abraham, “I swear by myself, that because you acted as you did in not withholding from me your beloved son, I will bless you abundantly and make your descendants as countless as the stars of the sky and the sands of the seashore.”

That prophecy was fulfilled, as we all know, on the natural level, in that Abraham became the father of the nation of Israel.

I suppose he could have imagined that natural dimension of the blessing.

But, as we also know, by making this promise God was telling Abraham that he would become the spiritual father of all the redeemed!  That’s yet another reason why we call Abraham “our father in faith”!  Spiritually speaking, we all trace our “lineage” back to him.

Now there’s no way that Abraham could possibly have understood that spiritual dimension of the promise when he first heard it.

But it was there!

If we follow Abraham’s example, by letting go AND by letting God take control and do his work in our lives, then we will, like Abraham, experience many blessings—sometimes even greater than what we can possibly imagine!

When I think of my great role model for dealing with Parkinson’s Disease, Blessed John Paul II, I think of what that illness forced him to let go of: his health, his skiing, his mobility, etc.  And yet, because he also “let God”: because he let God work in him and through him when he was battling that despicable disease, he did some of his most effective work in those later years of his life.

That fact certainly gives me a great deal of encouragement.

Some of you, like that fictional woman Pam, have lost children.  But, in the process of dealing with their deaths, you’ve actually grown closer to God and stronger in your faith.  You were forced to let go of someone who was very precious to you (you had no choice in the matter), but you did have the ability to choose how you’d respond to the tragedy.  And, thankfully, you made the choice to ‘let God’!  You made the choice to let God help you and console you and strengthen you and heal you and give you hope.  For that you have been greatly blessed; and, if you persevere in that trusting faith, you will be blessed beyond your wildest imaginings in eternity, where God will reunite you with many of your deceased relatives and friends.

Life is a process of letting go—and as such it provides us with many opportunities to ‘let God.’  May the Lord help us to take advantage of those opportunities in imitation of Abraham, and Blessed John Paul II—and all the other great saints of the past.

Repentance and Belief: Two Sides of the Same Coin

(First Sunday of Lent (B): This homily was given on February 26, 2012, at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read 1 Peter 3: 18-22; Mark 1: 12-15.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: First Sunday of Lent 2012]

Let me begin today by asking you to use your imagination.

Imagine a coin—a coin that has two words written on it.  On one side, you find the word “Repent;” on the other side you find the word “Believe.”

I begin with that image this morning, because it will help you to remember the message of my homily today, which is that repentance and belief are two sides of the same coin.

That is to say, these two ideas—belief and repentance—go together.  Or at least they should go together in our minds and in the minds of all Christians, because we know from today’s gospel reading that they definitely went together in the mind of Jesus!

In this text from Mark 1, we heard about the opening days of our Lord’s earthly ministry.  St. Mark doesn’t tell us everything Jesus preached on those occasions (to do that would have taken him several chapters, at least); but he does give us a clear and concise summary of Jesus’ message.  He tells us, in other words, the most important ideas contained in the early preaching of our Lord.  These are ideas that Jesus would share in one way or another with almost everyone he ministered to during the next three years.

The summary is recorded for us in three short sentences and two key commands: “This is the time of fulfillment.  The kingdom of God is at hand.  Repent and believe in the gospel.”

The two key commands, of course, are there in the very last sentence: repent and believe.  For Jesus, these two realities were inseparable.  And that’s also the way it is for the Church today, especially during the season of Lent.  This explains why the priest or deacon or extraordinary minister who gave you ashes a few days ago probably put them on your forehead while saying these very words: “Repent and believe in the gospel.”  You’ll remember that we used to say, “Turn away from sin and be faithful to the gospel,” but now we use the exact words of Jesus as recorded in  Sacred Scripture—which is really the way it should be.

I mention all this because many people in the modern world—including, sad to say, many Catholics—treat repentance and belief as if they were two separate and distinct coins (to use the image of this homily) rather than two sides of the same one.  This is something that Pope John Paul II alluded to in the encyclical he wrote back in 1993, Veritatis Splendor (the Splendor of Truth) when he talked about “the intrinsic and unbreakable bond between faith and morality,” and the tendency many people have to separate those two things. 

Notice that St. Peter implicitly connects belief and repentance in today’s second reading.  There he says, “Christ suffered for sins once, the righteous for the sake of the unrighteous, that he might lead you to God.”  The fact that Jesus suffered and died for our sins is something we believe; but the only way to be saved by the death of Jesus (or, as Peter puts it here, the only way for a person to be led to God by Jesus) is through repentance.  So, in that one sentence, we see both sides of the coin implied. 

Let me share with you now one real life example to make clear how important it is to keep these two ideas—belief and repentance—together ALWAYS.

The difference between treating belief and repentance as two separate coins and treating them as two sides of the same coin, is the difference between Judas Iscariot and Simon Peter.

Judas despaired and hung himself precisely because of the fact that he separated his repentance from his faith in Jesus (which, unfortunately, was pretty weak to begin with).  You know, it’s clear from Scripture that Judas did repent after he betrayed our Lord on Holy Thursday night.  Here’s how St. Matthew puts it in chapter 27 of his gospel: “Then Judas, his betrayer, seeing that Jesus had been condemned, deeply regretted what he had done.  [Sounds like repentance to me.]  He returned the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and elders saying, ‘I have sinned in betraying innocent blood.’  They said, ‘What is that to us?  Look to it yourself.’  Flinging the money into the temple, he departed and went off and hanged himself.”

Judas repented, in the sense that he deeply regretted his actions, but he definitely did not believe!  His “coin” had “Repent” written on one side, but absolutely nothing written on the other.  He didn’t believe that Jesus still loved him; he didn’t believe that Jesus would forgive him.  And he certainly didn’t believe that Jesus was dying for him and wanted to save him from his sins.  He probably didn’t even believe that he could be saved—or that he was worth saving.

And that lack of belief made all the difference in how he responded to the situation he found himself in.

This reminds me of the people who come into the confessional and confess the same sin over and over again—not because they’ve committed the sin over and over again (because they haven’t).  They confess it again and again because they don’t believe God has forgiven them for it!  Even though they’ve repented; even though they’ve done the right thing and brought their sin to the sacrament—they don’t believe that Jesus has taken it away (even though he has!).

Like Judas, these men and women repent, but they don’t believe.

And so they have no peace.

How different Simon Peter was—even though his denials of Jesus were every bit as bad as Judas’ betrayal!

The Bible tells us that after he denied our Lord for the third time and heard the cock crow, Peter went out and wept bitterly.

So, like Judas, he repented.

But unlike Judas, he never ever stopped believing.  He never stopped believing that Jesus loved him; he never stopped believing that Jesus could and would forgive him if he sincerely repented. 

So he never gave up.  Consequently, when he had the opportunity after the resurrection, he went back to Jesus and professed his love.  He did it three times, in reparation for his three denials.

“Simon, son of John, do you love me?”

“Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”

“Simon, son of John, do you love me?”

“Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”

“Simon, son of John, do you love me?”

“Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.”

Peter’s coin had “Repent” on one side and “Believe” on the other—always.

If we want to be like Peter during this season of Lent, I think we should plan to do two things:

First of all, we should plan to attend the parish mission, beginning on March 12.  Doing that will help to strengthen us in our belief (side 1 of the coin).

And secondly, we should repent by getting to confession at some point before Easter (side 2 of the coin).

Belief and repentance—TOGETHER—helped to make Simon Peter a saint.

May they help us to attain the very same goal in our lives.

The Word for Lent: Cross!

(This homily was given on February 22, 2012 (Ash Wednesday) at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Matthew 6: 1-6, 16-18.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Ash Wednesday 2012]

I asked the Lord to give me a theme word for the season of Lent two years ago, and the word he gave me was “perseverance.”  He didn’t speak it to me audibly (no, Fr. Ray isn’t hearing voices these days); he simply, I believe, brought the word to mind and put it on my heart as I was praying in preparation for Ash Wednesday of 2010.

And so I spoke in my homily that day about the need to persevere in our Lenten disciplines—especially if and when we’re tempted to give up on them halfway through the season.

Last year I did the same thing, and the word that came to mind was “consistency”.  So I spoke on that Ash Wednesday about the importance of being consistent in our prayer, fasting and works of charity during the season of Lent—and throughout the year.

So I figured that if it worked twice, I should try it again this year.  And when I did—when I went before the Lord in prayer to ask for a theme word to share with you today—what popped into my mind was the word, “cross.”

Now when that happened my first thought was, “Well that makes sense, Lord, since the season of Lent prepares us to celebrate our eternal salvation—the salvation you won for us by your sacrifice on the cross.”

But as I reflected on it a bit more, I also came to realize that the cross symbolizes (or at least it should symbolize) the two purposes of this season for us and for all Catholics: deepening our relationship with God, and improving our relationships with other people.

It’s not one or the other of those two things; it’s both.

Notice that every cross has two beams: one is vertical, the other is horizontal.

That vertical beam symbolizes our relationship with the Lord; the horizontal beam symbolizes our relationships with other people.

The season of Lent is a time to bring both these realities together (so that they, hopefully, will stay together for the remainder of the year!).  We are to work, first of all, at deepening our relationship with God by spending more time in prayer, and Scripture reading and adoration; and perhaps by coming to daily Mass and the parish mission; and by getting to Confession if we need to.

But that can’t be the end of it.  If it is, then we’ve really missed half the message of this season—and half the message of the Christian life!  Remember Jesus said that there are two great commandments: Love the Lord your God with all your heart and soul and mind and strength; and love your neighbor as yourself. 

And that’s where the horizontal beam comes into the picture.  That beam of the cross symbolizes our relationships with our brothers and sisters.  Improving those relationships (and healing them when necessary) should also be a primary focus for us, especially during this season of the year.  That’s why “almsgiving” is included among the 3 traditional activities of Lent.  Prayer and fasting concern our relationship with God, but almsgiving directly involves our relationships with our brothers and sisters. 

And it symbolizes more that just giving money (although it certainly includes that!).  To give alms is to extend charity—love—to one’s neighbor.  And that charity can take many forms.

To forgive, for example, those who have offended us in any way is an act of charity symbolized by the word “almsgiving”.  (That means if you’re harboring a grudge against anyone else in your life right now, you need to work at forgiveness during this Lenten season!)

Visiting a sick relative or friend is another act of charity symbolized by “almsgiving”.  So is showing patience to those who try our patience.  So is giving your time to worthy causes at your church or in your local community.

Even praying faithfully and persistently for the needs of others is a form of giving alms—since we’re asking God to help those people in whatever way they need to be helped.

So I ask you to keep that word “cross” in your mind during the next 40 days, and to evaluate your Lent by that standard. 

Every once in awhile say to the Lord, “Lord, am I truly ‘living’ the cross this Lent?  Am I really working to improve my relationship with you and my relationships with my brothers and sisters?”

And if the answer to either of those questions is no—then make the changes you need to make, so that when you reflect on those questions again later on in Lent, you’ll be able to answer them BOTH with a resounding yes!