Why was the Archbishop Right?

 

(Corpus Christi 2022 (C): This homily was given on June 19, 2022 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Genesis 14:18-20; Psalm 110:1-4; 1 Corinthians 11:23-26; John 6:51-58.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Corpus Christi 2022]

Why was the Archbishop right?

In late May, Archbishop Salvatore Cordileone of San Francisco sent a letter to the Speaker of the House, Nancy Pelosi, in which he said the following:

 A Catholic legislator who supports procured abortion, after knowing the teaching of the Church, commits a manifestly grave sin which is a cause of most serious scandal to others. Therefore, universal Church law provides that such persons “are not to be admitted to Holy Communion” (Code of Canon Law, can. 915). …

Then, a little later in the letter, the Archbishop said this:

In striving to follow this direction, I am grateful to you for the time you have given me in the past to speak about these matters. Unfortunately, I have not received such an accommodation to my many requests to speak with you again since you vowed to codify the Supreme Court's Roe v. Wade decision in federal law following upon passage of Texas Senate Bill 8 last September. That is why I communicated my concerns to you via letter on April 7, 2022, and informed you there that, should you not publicly repudiate your advocacy for abortion “rights” or else refrain from referring to your Catholic faith in public and receiving Holy Communion, I would have no choice but to make a declaration, in keeping with canon 915, that you are not to be admitted to Holy Communion.

As you have not publicly repudiated your position on abortion, and continue to refer to your Catholic faith in justifying your position and to receive Holy Communion, that time has now come. Therefore, in light of my responsibility as the Archbishop of San Francisco to be “concerned for all the Christian faithful entrusted to [my] care” (Code of Canon Law, can. 383, §1), by means of this communication I am hereby notifying you that you are not to present yourself for Holy Communion and, should you do so, you are not to be admitted to Holy Communion, until such time as you publicly repudiate your advocacy for the legitimacy of abortion and confess and receive absolution of this grave sin in the sacrament of Penance.

People in the woke, liberal, secular media, of course, became apoplectic when they found this out and read the Archbishop’s letter—to which I respond (in all charity) that it’s none of their business!  These are the same people who talk about the “separation of Church and state” every time a group of Christians takes a position on a moral matter that they don’t like.  Well, it works both ways, Mr. Journalist!  The Church shouldn’t try to run the state, true enough; but neither should the state try to run the Church!  This is an internal Church matter, and—if you really believe in the separation of Church and state like you say you do, Mr. Journalist—then you have nothing to say about it!  Your opinion on a matter like this is totally and completely irrelevant.

Which brings me back to the question I posed at the beginning: Why was the Archbishop right?  Why was he right, first of all, in trying to reach out to Mrs. Pelosi in the past to encourage her to see abortion for what it really is, and to act accordingly in her public life?  (He makes reference to those efforts, by the way, in his letter when he says, “I am grateful to you for the time you have given me in the past to speak about these matters.”)  Why was he right in warning her that there would be consequences if she persisted in her radical pro-abortion position, while at the same time claiming to be a “devout Catholic”?  And why was he right to finally take that action and bar her from receiving Holy Communion at Mass?

Those questions actually have a very simple answer:  Archbishop Cordileone was right BECAUSE HE’S A FATHER, AND THAT’S WHAT FATHERS—GOOD FATHERS, CARING FATHERS, LOVING FATHERS—DO!

Good fathers instruct their children and teach them the truth.

Good fathers admonish their children whenever they do wrong.

Good fathers are patient with their children.

Good fathers teach their children to be honest.  They don’t teach their children to say they’re Catholic, for example, if those children really don’t believe the core teachings of the Church!

Good fathers make their children accountable for their words and for their actions.

Good fathers punish their children when they deem it appropriate.

But good fathers are also always ready to forgive their children, and to receive them back with open arms when they repent of whatever wrong they’ve done.

Archbishop Salvatore Cordileone is a good father—a good spiritual father.  He’s a good spiritual father to Nancy Pelosi (although at the moment she might not think he is) and to the many other people of his diocese.  They’re blessed to have him as their spiritual leader.

We need many more leaders like him in the Church today—just as our society needs more biological fathers who are good in these ways. On this Fathers’ Day it’s important for us to remember that in America right now we’re experiencing what can be rightly called a “crisis of fatherhood”.  Many bishops and priests have failed their spiritual children, just as many biological fathers have failed their natural children.  And we’re seeing the tragic consequences of these failures all around us—especially in acts of violence at schools and other public places.  In one of his books, former Providence College professor Anthony Esolen wrote these foreboding words:

What is the single condition of a boy’s life that correlates most strongly with whether he will turn criminal?  Not income, not by a long shot. It is whether he grew up in the same home with his father.  Our prisons are full to bursting with fatherless boys who never became the men and fathers that God meant them to be.

As I said in an editorial I wrote this week for our diocesan newspaper:

Fathers matter!  They matter a lot!  Their love matters; their encouragement matters; their presence matters; their discipline matters; their forgiveness matters—and their example in every other dimension of life (including the spiritual dimension) matters!

My prayer on this Fathers’ Day is that every father, spiritual and biological, will understand these things—and live his life accordingly.

The Saints: The ‘Best’ of the Church, Whose Lives Were Transformed by the Power of the Holy Spirit

(Pentecost 2022 (C): This homily was given on June 5, 2022 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Acts 2:1-11; Psalm 104:1, 24-34; 1 Corinthians 12:3-13; John 20:19-23.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Pentecost 2022]

If you were trying to decide whether or not it would be a good idea to apply to a certain college—for example, to my alma mater, PC—how would you proceed?  What would be your thought process?  In other words, how would you judge the value of a Providence College education, and whether it’s worth investing in?  Would you make that judgment based on someone you know who partied from the first day he arrived on campus and who finally flunked out in his junior year?  Or would you make your assessment based on other people you know who graduated from PC with honors and then went on to do great things in the world?

If you were trying to decide whether or not to become a doctor, how would you evaluate the medical profession as a whole?  Would you evaluate it by the bad doctors you know, or by all the good doctors you know?

If you were trying to decide whether or not marriage was a worthy vocation worth pursuing, how would you do it?  Would you focus your attention primarily on the people you know who are in bad, unhappy marriages, or would you focus your attention primarily on the people you know who are in good, solid, happy marriages?

Pretty easy questions, right?

Well, that’s okay; they’re meant to be easy questions—easy questions which illustrate a very important truth: We almost always evaluate things in this life by looking at the best, not the worst.

To properly assess the value of a Providence College education, you need to focus on the best and most intelligent graduates of PC that you know—not on those who flunked out!

To properly evaluate the medical profession, you need to look at the good doctors in your life, not the bad ones.

And to properly assess the goodness and dignity of the vocation of marriage, it’s imperative that you focus your attention first and foremost on those who are living that vocation well, not on those whose marriages are on the rocks.

We almost always evaluate things in this life by looking at the best, not the worst.

But notice I say “almost always.”

That’s because there is at least one institution on planet earth right now which is normally evaluated not by its best members, but by its worst members, its absolute worst members.

And you all belong to it!  It’s called “the Church.” 

• When priests are talked about in secular society, for example, (especially in the media) the focus is almost always on the 4% who are bad, not on the 96% who are good.  Most of the time the 96% don’t even get mentioned!  It’s as if they don’t exist.
• When the history of the Church is spoken of or written about, the focus is almost always on the terrible sins that some members of the Church have committed over the centuries, and not on the billions and billions of loving acts that the majority of Catholics have performed over the same period of time in the name of Jesus Christ.
• And when people who have left the Church or given up the practice of their faith want to make their point and justify themselves, what do they say?  They say, “All those Catholics who go to church—they’re all the same; they’re a bunch of phonies; they’re a bunch of hypocrites.”

It’s nice to be loved, isn’t it?

Now, as baptized, believing Catholics I don’t think we should be looking for any kind of special treatment in this regard.  But I do think that we have the right to be judged and evaluated like everyone else is judged and evaluated: by our best representatives, not our worst.

And that’s great, because our best representatives are literally the greatest people who ever lived—the saints!

And who were the saints?

Very simply, the saints were ordinary people—like us—who allowed the Holy Spirit to transform their lives in a radical way.  For them, Pentecost wasn’t simply a liturgical feast that was celebrated once a year; rather, it was an experience they lived throughout the year! 

Just think of the apostles.  Before Pentecost, Peter, for example, was a hot-headed, impulsive coward, who couldn’t even defend Jesus to a servant girl in the high priest’s courtyard on Holy Thursday night.  After Pentecost, as we see in Acts 2 (where today’s first reading is taken from), Peter was—by the power of the Spirit—a level-headed, faith-filled man of incredible conviction and fortitude, who was willing to defend Jesus to anybody, regardless of the consequences.

Thomas went from super-doubter to super-missionary and martyr—by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Before he experienced his own personal Pentecost—beginning on the road to Damascus—Saul of Tarsus was, by his own admission, “a blasphemer, a persecutor, a man filled with arrogance” (that’s how he described himself in his first letter to Timothy).  But by the power of the Holy Spirit, he was transformed into the loving St. Paul, who wrote—and who lived—the message of love that we find in 1 Corinthians 13 (that beautiful text that you hear so often at weddings).

Today is a day to invite the Holy Spirit into our lives more fully, to transform us as he transformed these men 2,000 years ago—and as he transformed the many other saints of Church history.

Now you might ask, “Fr. Ray, why do we need a fuller outpouring of the Spirit in our lives?  Haven’t we already received the Spirit in Baptism and Confirmation?”

Well, yes, we have. 

But, lest we forget, the Holy Spirit is God, and God is eternal.  Hence, there’s always more of his life and grace that we can receive—if we desire it and are open to it.

All it takes is a simple and sincere prayer.  Begin it with the words, “Come, Holy Spirit,” and then ask for what you believe you need: a deeper faith, a stronger hope, a more fervent charity—whatever.

And don’t just ask the Spirit today; pray to him often—like the great saints did.

And one final point: Remember to tell your friends who are critical of Catholicism that they should evaluate our religion by the best people in the Church, not the worst; by the people who truly have lived the message the Church proclaims; by the people who have lived their lives in the power of the Holy Spirit: people like the apostles, St. Teresa of Calcutta, St. Catherine of Siena, St. John Paul II.

And hopefully, someday, you and me.

 

For Unity to be Attained, Something Radical Must Happen on the Inside of Everyone Involved

 

(Seventh Sunday of Easter (C): This homily was given on May 29, 2022 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Acts 7:55-60; Psalm 97:1-9; Revelation 22:12-20; John 17:20-26.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Seventh Sunday of Easter 2022]

It would be hard to think of two people who were more disunited than Saul the Pharisee and Stephen the deacon.  And the focal point of their disunity was none other than Jesus Christ: Stephen accepted Jesus as the Messiah and Savior of the world, and Saul categorically rejected him.  And because he was so utterly convinced that he was right, Saul made it his business to persecute, arrest and imprison those who professed to be Jesus’ disciples.

Ultimately, of course, his misguided passion made him an accomplice to murder.  As we heard in today’s first reading from Acts 7, when Stephen was being stoned to death, Saul watched over the cloaks of those who were throwing the rocks.  He looked on approvingly, while the first martyr of the Church was being killed.

Which brings us to this morning’s gospel text from John 17, in which Jesus prays for unity among his followers (and, since Jesus calls everyone to follow him, it’s actually a prayer for unity among all people).  Jesus says, “Holy Father, I pray . . . that they may all be one, as you, Father, are in me and I in you. . . . And I have given them the glory you gave me, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may be brought to perfection as one . . . “

The Lord desires unity in his Church.  But not only that—he desires unity in marriages; he desires unity in families; he desires unity among ethnic groups; he desires unity in every dimension of life.

But it often seems to be an elusive goal, does it not?

Well, today I’ll share with you a simple insight as to how we can all move closer to the goal.

It’s a rather simple concept, but (as is so often the case) it’s not so simple to put into practice.

Our teachers of this crucial lesson about unity, believe it or not, are Saul the Pharisee and Stephen the deacon.

Now you might say, “But, Fr. Ray, you just spoke about how disunited those two men were!”

That’s true.  But they are not disunited now!  In fact, at this moment, they have achieved a perfect unity—the kind that we can only dream about on this side of the grave. 

What caused this incredible, 180-degree change in the quality of their relationship?  And what’s the lesson they teach us about how to achieve greater unity in our Church, in our families, and in our other interpersonal relationships?

Very simply, the lesson is this: For unity to be attained within a group of people, something radical must happen on the inside of everyone involved!  And I mean everyone!

We see this clearly in Saul and Stephen.

Something radical happened inside of Stephen just before he died: he forgave his murderers—and that included Saul!  He fell to his knees and cried out, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.”  Stephen cooperated with the grace which God offered him at that moment, and made the decision to pardon those who were stoning him to death.  If he had not made that decision—if he had allowed hatred to fill his heart, and had carried that with him to his grave—he could never have been united with Saul in God’s kingdom.  His hatred would have been an insurmountable obstacle to unity. 

The radical change that happened in Saul occurred not long after Stephen’s death.  We all know the story: Jesus knocked him to the ground as he was heading to Damascus to arrest more Christians, and our Lord said to him, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?”  The radical, interior change Saul experienced was his conversion to Christianity—a change that would ultimately lead to his becoming Saint Paul, the Apostle of Jesus Christ.

The unity which Stephen and Paul now share in heaven is beautifully expressed in this writing from a 6^th century bishop and saint:

Love was Stephen’s weapon by which he gained every battle, and so won the crown signified by his name.  His love of God kept him from yielding to the ferocious mob; his love for his neighbor made him pray for those who were stoning him.  Love inspired him to reprove those who erred, to make them amend; love led him to pray for those who stoned him, to save them from punishment.  Strengthened by the power of his love, he overcame the raging cruelty of Saul, and won his persecutor on earth as his companion in heaven. . . .

Now at last, Paul rejoices with Stephen, with Stephen he delights in the glory of Christ, with Stephen he exults, with Stephen he reigns.  Stephen went first, slain by the stones thrown by Paul, but Paul followed after, helped by the prayer of Stephen.  This, surely, is the true life, my brothers, a life in which Paul feels no shame because of Stephen’s death, and Stephen delights in Paul’s companionship, for love fills them both with joy.  It was Stephen’s love that prevailed over the cruelty of the mob, and it was Paul’s love that covered the multitude of his sins; it was love that won for both of them the kingdom of heaven.  (From a sermon by St. Fulgentius of Ruspe, 2^nd reading in the Office of Readings for Dec. 26.)

Think, this morning, of the people in your life with whom you desire a greater unity.  (No doubt some of them are in your own family.)  Then ask the Lord to help you to see what radical changes need to occur INSIDE YOU before this unity can come about.  The Lord may bring you to the realization that you need to forgive, or swallow your pride, or ask forgiveness, or deal with a bad habit or a personality flaw.

But—whatever it is—resolve to make that radical change with the help of God’s grace, and pray that everyone else involved in the situation will do the same. 

Remember, for unity to be attained within a group of people, something radical must happen on the inside of everyone involved. 

St. Stephen and St. Paul, pray for us, that we will be one, as you are one!

 

The Ascension of Jesus and the Importance of the Human Body

 

(Ascension Thursday 2022: This homily was given on May 26, 2022 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Acts 1:1-14; Psalm 47:2-9; Ephesians 1:17-23; Luke 24:46-53.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Ascension 2022]

When Jesus Christ—the Word made flesh—the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity made man—ascended  into heaven 40 days after he rose from the dead, he did so with his human body.

That fact is significant, because it means that ever since Ascension Thursday, heaven has been inhabited by a divine person who has a body like ours (although his body is already in a glorified state).

This is a truth of our faith—a truth of our faith that has some very practical implications for our daily lives.  It’s not just a tenet of the Creed! 

You see, if the Son of God had discarded his human body after his resurrection, and gone to heaven as a pure spirit, it would have sent us a message that our bodies are really not very important; it would have said to us that only our souls and spirits matter.

But that’s not what happened.  As I just said, Jesus went to heaven with his body!  That means our bodies do matter—they matter a lot! 

It’s not a coincidence that the Church says we are to respect the human body always—even in death. 

Sometimes when a relative dies, an otherwise good Catholic will ask questions like, “Why can’t I scatter grandma’s ashes to the four winds at the beach?  Grandma loved the beach!”  “Why can’t I keep grandma’s ashes in the living room on her favorite coffee table?  She sat in front of that table for years; it was her favorite place in the house.” 

Grandma’s ashes are to be interred in the ground or in a mausoleum, as the proper committal prayers of the Church are prayed, because her ashes are the ashes of a human body that will be raised from the dead at the end of time!  They’re the ashes of a body that was redeemed by Jesus Christ; they’re the ashes of a body that was made to live forever in a glorified state in the kingdom of heaven.  Hence they’re not to be thrown around like confetti at a wedding; nor are they to be used as a decoration for the living room coffee table!

Human bodies are to be treated with proper respect in death, because that’s the way we’re supposed to treat our bodies in life!

Of course, in treating our bodies with respect in life, we need to avoid two extremes: worship and abuse—both of which are extremely common today.

People who “worship” their bodies are people who value their physical health above everything else—including the health of their souls.

It’s a phenomenon that Pope John Paul II and other popes have referred to as “the cult of the body”.

Now what makes this attitude so difficult for us to resist is the fact that our materialistic and hedonistic culture actively promotes it!  For proof of that, just watch one of those cosmetic surgery programs on cable TV; or pick up a bodybuilding magazine or the latest issue of Cosmopolitan; or read the statistics on how many people—men and women alike—suffer from eating disorders.

Now don’t misunderstand me here.  As one who loves to work out at the gym, I’m a firm believer that maintaining your physical health is good; I’m a firm believer in the importance of taking proper care of your body—especially when you have a serious disease like I do.  But your body in its present condition is not immortal—so its value is not absolute.  You can do 1,000 push-ups and sit-ups a day, and have plastic surgery on 90% of your body—the fact is you’re still gonna die!

You may “die at your ideal weight” (as the old saying goes), but you’re still gonna die!  

Pope Pius XII said it very simply and very clearly many years ago: “Care for the body, strengthening of the body—yes; but cult of the body, making a god of the body—no.”

It’s a hard balance to achieve—especially nowadays—but we all need to work at it.

Which brings us to the other extreme that must be avoided, namely abuse.  Those who worship their bodies care for them too much; those who abuse their bodies care for them too little.

Obviously it’s wrong to abuse your body through drugs or alcohol—that’s a given.  But it’s also wrong to abuse your body in other ways: for example, by eating too much—or by not eating enough. 

It’s wrong to abuse your body by failing to go to the doctor when you’re sick, or by failing to take the medication you know you need to take for an illness that you have.

And it’s wrong to abuse your body by engaging in immoral sexual behaviors.

The Ascension of Jesus Christ reminds us that our bodies are made for heaven, not just for earth. 

Lord Jesus, help us all to remember that, and help us to live our lives accordingly—treating our bodies (and the bodies of others) with the respect they deserve, so that someday our glorified bodies will join yours in the kingdom of heaven.  Amen.