Avoiding the Ultimate Consequence of Neglect

(Thirty-second Sunday of the Year (A): This homily was given on November 12, 2023 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Wisdom 6:12-16; Psalm 63:2-8; 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18; Matthew 25:1-13.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Thirty-second Sunday 2023]

 

Late, late so late! and dark the night and chill!

Late, late so late! but we can enter still.

Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now.

 

No light had we; for that we do repent;

And learning this, the bridegroom will relent.

Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now.

 

No light: so late! and dark and chill the night!

O let us in, that we may find the light!

Too late, too late: ye cannot enter now.

 

Have we not heard the bridegroom is so sweet?

O let us in, tho’late, to kiss his feet!

No, no, too late! ye cannot enter now.

 

Those words of Alfred Lord Tennyson, the famous English poet, allude to the parable we just heard from Matthew 25.  And they express what I would call the ultimate consequence of neglect.  Happily, none of us has ever experienced this consequence, and hopefully none of us ever will.  Now the parable itself may sound a bit strange to us, but it would not have sounded strange to the people who first heard it.  That’s because Jesus was speaking about the ordinary wedding customs of his day and using these as a vehicle to speak about “the four last things.”  Hopefully all of us know what those are.   We should, if we've studied our catechism lessons well.  The four last things are: death, judgment, heaven and hell.  And by the way, they haven’t changed since Vatican II.  The four last things were, are and always will be the four last things! 

The wise virgins who had oil in their lamps when the bridegroom arrived symbolize all those who are ready for judgment when Jesus comes for them (either at the end of their earthly lives or at the end of time).  The foolish virgins represent all those who are not ready for that decisive moment.  But what I find extremely significant is the reason why these virgins are judged unworthy, why they are told (in Tennyson’s words), “Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now.”  It’s not because they were a bunch of wild, crazy, cannibalistic serial killers.  It’s because they were slothful and negligent.  They simply failed to get oil for their lamps.  That was it.  Now--it’s interesting—I read several commentaries on this text in preparation for this homily, and almost all of the authors said that the oil in the story symbolizes good works.  Well, at the risk of disagreeing with several prominent biblical scholars, I think there’s more to it than that.  Most people—even very evil people—do some good works now and again.  Every once in a while, at least, they get it right and do something nice.  But Jesus tells us at the beginning of the parable that these virgins brought no oil whatsoever!  If the oil simply represented good works, I think Jesus would have said that they had brought “a little bit” of oil with them.  Not enough, of course, but at least a tiny bit (signifying the few good things they had done).  The fact that he says they brought none at all leads me to believe that the oil actually signifies what the Church would call sanctifying grace.  Sanctifying grace is the grace that makes us pleasing to God—the grace we first receive at Baptism.  It’s the grace we lose if and when we commit a mortal sin, but which is happily restored when we make a good confession.  If a person dies without this grace in his soul, he cannot enter God’s eternal kingdom.  Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now!

This is something I’ve thought about more and more in recent years, with all my health issues.  First Parkinson’s; then prostate cancer; now multiple myeloma.  It makes you realize how fragile and short this life really is, and that we always need to be ready to meet the Lord.

These virgins knew they weren’t ready.  They knew they didn’t have the oil they needed; which means they represent all those who know they need to repent and go to confession because they’ve missed Mass without good reason or committed some other serious sin.  But even though they knew they needed oil, these foolish virgins still decided to postpone their trip to the store.  And what was their reasoning?  They figured they had plenty of time.  Which, of course, is the very same reason why some people avoid repentance and confession!  By the way, I think this is one of the most effective lies that Satan uses on human beings: the lie that says, “Take your time.  There’s no rush.  There’s always tomorrow.”  Well, we all know of instances where certain people looked forward to tomorrow, and tomorrow never came.  They died, unexpectedly, that very day.  This parable also reminds us that when we leave this life we will be judged on our own merits, not on the merits of others.  As St. Paul says in 2 Corinthians 5:10, “The lives of all of us are to be revealed before the tribunal of Christ so that each one may receive his recompense, good or bad, according to his life in the body.”  On Judgment Day we won’t be able to borrow (or buy) sanctifying grace from someone else.  We will either have it, or we won’t.

We all know that neglect has consequences.  We know that from our daily experiences.  For example, if we neglect our physical health, our blood pressure goes up, our waistline goes out, and our risk of having a heart attack or a stroke goes through the roof!  If we’re a student and we neglect to do our homework, our grades go down, and our parents’ blood pressure goes through the roof!  If we neglect a family member or friend in some way, our relationship with that person gets damaged, perhaps severely. 

From common, daily experiences like these the Lord wants us to learn not to neglect our souls! That’s the “bottom line message” of this homily!  Don’t neglect your soul—ever!  God wants us to examine our consciences frequently and honestly, so that we can take swift action against our sins and avoid what I referred to earlier as “the ultimate consequence of neglect.”  In case you haven’t figured it out yet, that ultimate consequence is hell—eternal separation from God.  Jesus, our Savior, died to give us life—eternal life. But that life is not automatic.  Eternal life is the consequence of vigilance—of standing guard over the gift of sanctifying grace first given to us in Baptism.  Sanctifying grace is what you might call “spiritual oil”; it’s the spiritual oil that burns, not just for a day, a month or a year—but FOREVER!  It’s the spiritual oil that allows us to gain entrance to the eternal wedding feast of the Lamb!  Today I pray that each and every one of us will have an abundance of THAT oil in our lamps, whenever our time comes to leave this mortal life and go out to meet the eternal bridegroom—who is, of course, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. 

 

When Priests Don’t Meet Your Expectations

 

The Bishop's 'Cathedra' in the Cathedral of SS. Peter and Paul in Providence.

(Thirty-first Sunday of the Year (A): This homily was given on November 5, 2023 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Matthew 23: 1-12.)

[For the audio version of this homily. click here: Thirty-first Sunday 2023]

 

Some of you have probably heard this before, but it bears repeating today:

If a priest preaches more than 10 minutes, they say he’s long-winded.  If his homily is short, they say he didn’t prepare it well.  If the parish funds are in the black, they say he has business savvy.  If he mentions money, they say he’s money-mad.  If he visits his parishioners, they say he’s nosy; if he doesn’t, they say he’s a snob.  If he has dinners and bazaars, they say he’s bleeding the people; if he doesn’t, they say there’s no life in the parish.  If he takes time in the reconciliation room to advise sinners, they say he takes too long.  If he doesn’t, they say he doesn’t care.  If he celebrates Mass in a quiet voice, they say he’s boring; if he puts emphasis in his words, they say he’s an actor.  If he starts Mass on time, they say his watch must be fast; if he starts late, they say he’s holding up the people.  If he’s young, they say he’s inexperienced; if he’s old they say he ought to retire.

I guess that last one applies to me now (probably a few of the others do as well—but we won’t go there!).

The point of this little reflection, of course, is that sometimes people have expectations of their priests and religious leaders that are excessive and unrealistic.  Not even St. Peter or St. Paul could live up to them.

And sadly, these unmet expectations sometimes cause people to leave the Church and abandon their Catholic faith—and, in certain extreme cases, to lose their faith in Jesus entirely and perhaps even to abandon their belief in God.

One day a woman emailed me about a priest who embarrassed and humiliated her publicly (this didn’t happen locally—let me make that clear), and she was honest about the fact that she was hurt so deeply by what he did that she was tempted, for a moment at least, to abandon her faith entirely.

Thankfully she didn’t.  But others have in similar circumstances.

This problem of religious leaders who don’t practice what they preach is nothing new, and it’s certainly not something that’s peculiar to the Catholic Church.  Every religious group has experienced it—including the Jews of the first century (as Jesus makes clear in the gospel text we just heard from Matthew 23).  Our Lord says there, “The scribes and the Pharisees have taken their seat on the chair of Moses.”  One note of clarification here: This wasn’t literally an old chair from the time of Moses that the scribes and Pharisees took turns sitting on!  The “chair” in this text is a symbol: a symbol of authority—a symbol of the legitimate religious authority that the scribes and Pharisees had in the Jewish community of the time.

We employ the same symbolism in the Catholic Church today when we use the word “cathedral” to describe the principal church of a diocese.  The English word “cathedral” comes from the Latin word “cathedra” which means “seat”.  A cathedral, therefore, is the place where the bishop has his “seat”—which is literally a chair (the big, presidential chair in the sanctuary) which only he is allowed to sit in during Mass.  If I or any other priest celebrates Mass in a cathedral, we have to sit in another chair—because only the diocesan bishop possesses the authority that the “cathedra” (the big chair) symbolizes.

The scribes and Pharisees taught the people the Mosaic Law, so in a certain sense they possessed the authority of Moses in the first century Jewish community. And because they had this legitimate authority Jesus tells his disciples, “You must obey them!”

“The scribes and the Pharisees have taken their seat on the chair of Moses.  Therefore, do and observe all things whatsoever they tell you, but do not follow their example.  For they preach but they do not practice.”

I think Jesus would say something similar to us today when we encounter an uncharitable priest (or bishop or deacon) like that woman did whom I mentioned earlier in my homily. 

He’d say, “Yes, you must obey them when they tell you to live the Gospel, but don’t do the things they do.”

This is a very important message for you to take to heart, my brothers and sisters, because God does not want your faith damaged or destroyed by an unpleasant encounter with “Father Pharisee”—or when your parish priest fails in some way to meet your expectations.

And it CAN be damaged or destroyed in such circumstances, as I said earlier—especially if your expectations are excessive and unrealistic.

Which leads to this very interesting question: What should you expect of your priests?

What are some realistic expectations that you should have of your clergy?

Well, here are a few that I think you should have …

·        You should expect them to believe—not just in God and Jesus, but also in everything the Catholic Church teaches and professes to be revealed by God.  Basically that means everything in the Bible and the Catechism.  That’s what we expect of converts to the Catholic faith, so it shouldn’t be too much to expect the same thing of our clergy.
You should also expect them to teach these doctrines—and not their own personal opinions—to their congregations.

·         You should expect your bishops, priests and deacons to acknowledge the fact that they’re sinners on the same pilgrimage that you’re on—like Pope Francis did when he was elected to the papacy and was asked to describe himself.  He said, very simply, “I am a sinner.”  That kind of humility goes a long way in ministry.

·         You should expect your clergy to avoid scandalous behavior, and to pursue holiness in their personal lives.  That’s just basic Christianity 101!

·         You should expect your clergy to be obedient to the authorities that God has placed over them—especially their bishops.  Some priests, unfortunately, are not obedient to their bishops, and yet they expect their parishioners to be obedient to them!  That’s wrong!

·         You should expect your bishops, priests and deacons to have the courage to address the hard issues of the day (like abortion and euthanasia and so-called “gay marriage”).  In other words, you should expect them not to be spiritual wimps!

·         You should expect them to avoid opulence and materialism.

·         You should expect them to live simple, detached lives.

·         You should expect them to care about the poor and those in need.

·         You should expect them to be men of prayer—who even pray about their ministry, so that God can help them to see what they’re doing right, what they’re doing wrong, and what he wants them to do next.

·         And, of course, you should expect them to be men devoted to the sacraments of the Church.

Those are all reasonable, realistic expectations.  There’s nothing outlandish or excessive about them.  So in closing I ask you to pray for us!  Pray for all bishops, priests and deacons in the Church today: pray that we will meet or exceed all these expectations in everything that we do.

And if we fail to meet them from time to time because of our human weaknesses (like the scribes and the Pharisees failed), don’t give up on your Catholic faith, and certainly don’t stop praying for us—because that’s precisely when we need your prayers the most.

Fifteen Common Misconceptions About the Saints

 

(All Saints’ Day 2023: This homily was given on November 1, 2023 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Revelation 7: 2-4, 9-14; 1 John 3: 1-3; Matthew 5: 1-12a.)

 [For the audio version of this homily, click here: All Saints 2023]

When you hear the word “saint,” what thoughts and images come to mind?

Do you think of someone who’s strong and happy and wise, or do you think of a person who’s weak and melancholy and naïve?

Today we celebrate the feast of All Saints—a day in which we are reminded that we are all called to sanctity.  St. John tells us in our second reading that “we are God’s children now.”  His implication there is that we are to LIVE in accord with this identity.  In other words, we are to live as God’s children now—in this life—by being holy, and by putting into practice the Beatitudes that we heard in today’s gospel text from Matthew 5.

And the good news is, if we do that, we will eventually become part of that immense crowd that John saw in his vision in Revelation 7: that group of fully redeemed souls “from every race and tongue and people and nation.”

That is to say, we will be saints!

And this is not optional!  Indeed being a saint can’t be optional, since at the end of time there will be only two groups of people: the redeemed and the damned; the saints of heaven and the condemned souls of hell!

So it’s very important that we “strive for that holiness . . . without which no one can see the Lord,” as the author of Hebrews tells us in chapter 12 of his letter.

But many people don’t do this—they don’t actively pursue holiness—because they have a number of misconceptions about the saints (especially those saints who are officially canonized by the Church).  Which is why I asked that question that I asked at the beginning of my homily: When you hear the word “saint,” what thoughts and images come to mind?

In preparation for this Mass, I made a list of some of the common misconceptions about the saints that I’ve encountered over the years.  I ask you, have you ever believed any of these things in the past?  Do you believe any of them now? 

1. The saints said yes to everybody; they never offended anyone by saying no.
2. The saints didn’t care at all about this world; all they cared about was heaven.
3. The saints were not practical people; their heads were always “in the clouds,” so to speak.
4. The saints didn’t experience temptation like ordinary people do.
5. The saints were all celibate.
6. The saints never had any fun. (This, apparently, is what Billy Joel thinks.  Remember that line from his song, “Only the Good die Young”?  Joel sang, “I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints.  The sinners have much more fun.”  That song had a great tune, but a rotten message!)
7. The saints prayed all day.
8. All the saints started off as good, holy people.
9. The saints never got discouraged or depressed.
10. The saints were always happy; they were always on a “spiritual high.”
11. The saints allowed people to walk all over them: they had no backbone.
12. The saints never thought about or talked about anything or anyone but God.
13. The saints loved people less because they loved God more.
14. The saints got along with everybody; they never had conflicts with other people like ordinary men and women do.
15. The saints were all perfect and sinless, like the Blessed Mother was perfect and sinless.

 

Each and every one of those 15 statements is false.  For example,

 

• The great saints of the Church did not say yes to everybody.  Because they were men and women of such strong conviction, they often said no—especially to sin!  And they offended some people in the process.
• The saints didn’t only care about heaven. (As the old saying goes, most of them had their feet firmly planted on the earth.  Most saints, in other words, appreciated the blessings of this life, and they had a great deal of common sense.) 
• The saints were tempted just like the rest of us are. 
• The saints sometimes got discouraged and depressed (just think of the prophet Jeremiah and how discouraged he got because of all he was forced to go through). 
• Many of the saints were married people. 
• The saints knew how to enjoy life.  In fact you could make the case that saints have much more fun than worldly people do, since they know how to properly enjoy the good things of this world.  They don’t abuse them.
• The saints didn’t love their families and friends less because they loved God more.  In truth it was exactly the opposite: because they loved God so much, they were able to love the other people in their lives more completely.  And that includes their enemies.
• If you’ve read St. Paul’s letters and the Acts of the Apostles, you know that the saints didn’t always start off as holy people.  St. Paul certainly didn’t!  And even after their conversions they didn’t always get along with others—which means that they weren’t perfect and sinless, like our Blessed Mother was perfect and sinless.

 

I mention all this today because, if you believe any of these 15 falsehoods that I’ve outlined in this homily (or any others that I didn’t mention), you will probably think that being a saint is impossible.  And, of course, if you think it’s impossible to be a saint, you won’t actively pursue the holiness necessary to be one.

Which will put you in grave danger of losing your soul!

But it is possible!  That’s the good news!  As St. Paul said in Philippians 4: “I can do all things in Christ who strengthens me.” 

And that includes being a saint—even if we’ve been very un-saintly in the past.

May God help us to believe that—and to live like we believe that—so that someday the possibility of being a saint will become a reality for us all.