How to Deal with Our Losses in Life: ‘Look up’ and ‘Look out’

 

                
(This homily was given on May 13, 2021 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Acts 1:1-11; Psalm 47:2-9; Ephesians 1:17-23; Mark 16:15-20.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Ascension 2021]

Life is a series of losses.  I’ve come to realize that more and more as the years have passed.  (Of course, life can also be looked at as a series of “gains”—but that’s a subject for another homily!)  

Think for a moment this afternoon about some of the things that you lose during the course of your earthly life.  As time goes on you eventually lose your physical health.  You lose your youthful energy.  You lose your hair (some of us lose more than others).  Sooner or later you lose your job either through a layoff or a firing or through a retirement.

You lose your friends and family members because they die.  You lose your 20/20 vision.  You lose some or all of your teeth.  You lose your mental sharpness.

Losses are part of the fabric of this life—which is why it’s so important that we learn how to deal with them effectively.  If we learn to deal effectively with our losses, we can actually have a measure of peace and happiness on this earth in spite of their presence in our lives.  However if we fail to learn to deal effectively with them, those very same losses can easily overwhelm us and even drive us to despair.  

So there’s a lot at stake here.

In this regard, the apostles definitely have something to teach us.  Today we CELEBRATE the feast of our Lord’s ascension.  But quite frankly I don’t think the apostles felt like celebrating anything on the very first Ascension Thursday.  I say that because on that day they experienced the greatest LOSS of their lives: the loss of the physical, carnal presence of Jesus.  For three years these men had come to rely on our Lord’s wisdom, power and guidance in a very direct way.  He was there, with them—in the flesh.  They related to him as we relate to the people we have personal contact with every day.

But that all came to an abrupt end when Jesus ascended into heaven forty days after his resurrection.  And yes, he had promised to send them the Holy Spirit, that’s true, but I don’t think that meant much to them at the time since they probably weren’t too sure who the Holy Spirit was!

So what did they do?  How did they cope?  Well, if you read the Scriptures carefully you see they did two things in response to their physical loss of Jesus: THEY LOOKED UP AND THEY LOOKED OUT!  The Bible makes it clear that for the nine days between the ascension of Jesus and the coming of the Spirit at Pentecost the apostles met together in the Upper Room to pray.  In other words, they “looked up” to the Heavenly Father for the strength and help they needed—and in the process they ended up making what amounted to the very first novena!

At the same time they also “looked out” to one another (and to Mary, our Blessed Mother, who was there with them in the Upper Room).  They gathered as a group not only to pray, but also to console one another, to encourage one another, to build up one another.

Based on my experience of being a priest now for 35-plus years, I would say that the people who deal most effectively and most successfully with their losses in this life are those who do what these apostles did: they’re the people who make the effort to “look up” and to “look out” every day.  They’re the people, first of all, who have an active prayer life—who take prayer seriously—who try to pray every day with their hearts and not just with a lot of words.  That is to say, they “look up” often.

They’re also the people who don’t make the mistake of trying to live their lives as “Lone Ranger Christians”.  Quite oppositely, they consistently “look out” to others.  These are people who do not allow themselves to become isolated.  They’re people who are humble enough to admit that they need the support of their brothers and sisters in Christ to deal with their difficulties.  And they’re people who are smart enough to reach out and actively seek that support.

If we’re not coping very well with our own personal losses at the present time, chances are we’re falling short in one of these two areas.  Either we’re not “looking up” or we’re not “looking out” as we should be.  May the example of the apostles motivate us to change that, so that in the midst of our losses we will be able to gain at least a measure of peace and happiness—the peace and happiness that we all long for in our hearts—and that God, in his love and mercy, wants to give us.

 

The Powerful, Natural Bond between a Mother and Her Child

(Sixth Sunday of Easter (B): This homily was given on May 9, 2021 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Acts 10:25-48; Psalm 98:1-4; 1 John 4:7-10; John 15:9-17.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Sixth Sunday of Easter 2021]

I remember a conversation I had several years ago with a young mother from the parish.  She was telling me that, when she was pregnant with her second child, she went to see her doctor because she was convinced there was something wrong with her baby.  She wasn’t experiencing any glaring symptoms; it was just a feeling—a sense—she had.

The doctor probably thought she was overreacting, but he decided to order some of the standard, pre-natal tests for her anyway—all of which showed nothing.

But the woman wasn’t satisfied.  She kept pressing the physician.  Finally he ordered a specialized test, and, sure enough, they discovered that the baby had severely enlarged kidneys.

The doctor then asked the woman if she would consider an abortion.  At that point the baby was already five months old.  The woman told me she was shocked to find out that abortion was an option that late in a pregnancy (I told her that it’s legal in our country for all nine months—and it has been since 1973.)

To her credit, she got upset with the doctor and told him, “No, I would never do that!”

And, happily, four months later, she delivered a healthy baby girl into the world—and had her baptized here at St. Pius!

I tell this story on this Mother’s Day, not to focus on the abortion part of it (although that is certainly noteworthy!); rather, I tell this story because it illustrates in a powerful way how deep the natural bond is between a mother and her child—even when that child is still in the womb!

Amazing!

This young mother discerned that there was something wrong with her baby—even though all the initial tests said otherwise!

She knew it intuitively!

By the way, how can people in the pro-choice movement have the audacity to maintain that abortion does not harm women?

What a lie!!!

Even if the mother doesn’t want the child, this bond which is there by nature—by God’s design—gets violently severed!

And that has to hurt emotionally and spiritually, unless the mother is hard-hearted or in total denial.

This is why Rachel’s Vineyard retreats and other such events are so important and such a blessing: they help to heal that gaping wound in post-abortive women.

Praise God.

The love that Jesus describes in today’s gospel text from John 15 is the kind of love that many of us were blessed to experience through our mothers, even before we were born.  This is real love—the love of Jesus himself—the love he witnessed to in his own earthly life, and especially in his passion and death.

Notice that Jesus says here, “Love one another as I love you.”  That’s a very important qualifying phrase at the end of the sentence: “as I love you.”  In today’s world, as we all know, love means a lot of different things to a lot of different people.  For some, sad to say, it’s just become a synonym for sex. 

St. Thomas Aquinas defined love based on Jesus’ teaching here in John 15 and other places in the New Testament.  Aquinas said that to love is to desire the good for another person—which definitely describes Jesus’ attitude toward us.  Jesus came to this earth, and suffered and died on that cross, because he desired the good—the ultimate good—for every human being, namely, eternal life!

In this regard, his love was absolutely, positively selfless.  All real love is.  He suffered and died for us, not for himself. 

In fact, Jesus never thought of himself first.

Neither do good mothers.  Good mothers always put the needs of their children before their own.

This is what motivated that young mother to continue to press her doctor about the condition of her unborn child.  She didn’t care if he thought she was crazy; her one and only concern was for the welfare of her daughter in the womb!

Jesus’ love was also patient.  Just think of how patient he had to be—and was—with his own apostles.

Good mothers are also patient.  Mine sure was with me—and I know I tried her patience a lot!

Jesus’ love was also forgiving: “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.”

Good mothers will often forgive their children when almost nobody else will.

I think this is one reason, incidentally, why we refer to the Church as our “Mother”.  It’s because through the sacrament of Confession she will forgive us for anything.  Literally, anything!

And, above all else, Jesus’ love was self-sacrificial.  As we heard him say in today’s gospel, “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”  The best visual definition of love is the one hanging on the back wall of our sanctuary: the cross!

Now I haven’t done a scientific survey on this, but every mother I’ve ever talked to about this issue has told me in no uncertain terms that she would be willing to die for her children if she had to.

No questions asked.

And I believe these women. 

But this really should not surprise us—given that very special bond that a mother has with her child by nature—by God’s design—even before birth.

Now it’s true—not every mother does in fact love her children with the selfless, patient, forgiving, self-sacrificial love of Jesus Christ.  For those mothers we pray a prayer of petition at this Mass: a prayer that they will allow Jesus Christ into their hearts and experience a real transformation in their lives, both for their own sakes and for the sake of their children.

But for the rest—for those mothers, living and deceased, who have faithfully witnessed to Christ’s love in their motherhood—we, your children, offer a special prayer of thanksgiving at this Mass: We thank the Lord from the bottom of our hearts for your presence in our lives, and we ask Almighty God to reward you—here and in eternity—for all you have done for us.

How to Stay Connected—to Jesus

 

(Fifth Sunday of Easter (B): This homily was given on May 2, 2021 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Acts 9:26-31; Psalm 22:26-32; 1 John 3:18-24; John 15:1-8.)

 [For the audio version of this homily, click here: Fifth Sunday of Easter 2021]

 

This homily is about “staying connected.”

Now this is a topic that should be of interest to most of us, because this is precisely what most people in the modern world spend most of their waking hours trying to do!

We live in an age of what’s commonly called “social media”.  As most of us know, the term “social media” includes things like Facebook and Twitter and Instagram—and regular old email, the primary purpose of which is to help people stay connected to each other.

However, the sad irony is it doesn’t seem to be working!  In fact, generally speaking, it all seems to be having the exact opposite effect!  It’s appears that the more social media options we have—and use—the more distant we tend to get from one another.  And sometimes the more belligerent we become toward one another.

Our social media are leading many of us to social isolation.  “Interfacing” has become a common substitute for “people-facing”!  Now don’t get me wrong, interfacing isn’t bad in and of itself—I, for example, email people throughout the day; it’s become a very important part of my priestly ministry.  But this kind of thing does become a problem when it almost totally replaces person-to-person contact and interaction!

Telling 10,000 people through Twitter that you’re about to take a bath is not the same as actually having a conversation with another human being!

To really “stay connected” with other people, we need to go beyond the kind of interaction we get through the social media.

And, believe it or not, something similar is true of our relationship with Jesus Christ.  Our Lord calls himself “the vine” in today’s gospel text from John 15, and he refers to all of us as “the branches.”  That’s not a coincidence.  The branches need the vine to live: we need Jesus Christ and his saving grace to live eternally.  But we also need the Lord for everything else in life—even for things that we would normally call “natural”.  As Jesus says here, “Apart from me, you can do nothing.”  And, as St. Paul reminded the Athenians, in God “we live and move and have our being.”

So a relationship with Jesus can’t be optional; at least it can’t be optional if we want to reach our ultimate goal of heaven, and if we want to live this earthly life to the fullest.

Now most Catholics and other Christians will readily acknowledge this.  They’ll have no problem admitting that having a relationship with Jesus and “staying connected” to him is essential.

The problem comes in actually building that relationship and sustaining it!  Well here’s where the analogy of the vine and the branches—and the analogy of the modern social media—become very helpful.

As I just said, Jesus makes the point here that our relationship with him is like the relationship of branches to a vine. 

Well, as every gardener will tell you, for a branch to remain on a vine—and flourish—and produce a lot of fruit—two things have got to happen: 

1.    The branch has to avoid being cut off; or, if it does get cut off for some reason, it has to get grafted back on.

2.    It has to get enough nourishment.

And that’s precisely the way it is in the spiritual life.  Branches (that is to say, people) who produce great fruit for Jesus Christ are people who, first of all, don’t allow themselves to get cut off from the Lord through mortal sin (or, who, if they do get cut off, get “grafted on” again as soon as possible by making a good confession). 

Believe me, nothing pleases the devil more than when we either ignore or deny the serious sins in our lives—because the devil knows that those sins sever us from Jesus, the vine!  And think of how often this happens today!  Serious sins like hatred, adultery, fornication, self-abuse, artificial birth control, homosexual activity: these are now socially-acceptable sins that are committed a lot more than they’re confessed.

But avoiding and/or dealing with mortal sin is only half the story.  As Christian “branches” on the vine of Jesus Christ we also need nourishment (just like branches in nature need nourishment).  This is where prayer comes into the picture, and it’s also where we can learn a few lessons from the analogy with today’s social media.

I think it’s safe to say that many Christians do send “tweet-style prayers” or “text message-style prayers” up to Jesus every day.  You know what I mean . . . the quick one-liners: “Jesus, help me!”  “Jesus, heal me.”  “Jesus, give me strength!”  “Jesus, get me out of this mess and I’ll never do anything bad for the rest of my life!”

Now there’s nothing wrong with prayers like this.  In fact, many of the great saints have spoken about the importance of talking to God throughout the day in precisely this way—especially by praising him and thanking him and professing our love for him.

But if that’s as far as it goes, our relationship with Jesus won’t amount to very much.  Common sense should tell us that.  Think about it: if all you did was tweet and text-message a particular friend, without ever having a more extensive conversation with that person, how deep or strong would your friendship be?

They might know what time you took a bath every day, but that’s about it! 

“Staying connected” to our earthly friends requires more than tweeting and texting. 

 And so does staying connected to Jesus, the heavenly vine.

But fear not, my brothers and sisters, as Catholics we have all kinds of opportunities to do this.  They’re actually built into the very fabric of our religion.  For example, I don’t know about you, but I really enjoy eating with my earthly friends as often as I can.  Well, as Catholics we have the opportunity to “dine” with Jesus at least once a week here at Mass in order to intensify our connection to him.  Perhaps you’ve never thought of Mass as “dinner with Jesus”—but in a very real sense that’s what it is!

And he himself is our food!

I also like to call my friends on the phone and have conversations with them that are a lot longer and deeper than “tweets”.  Doing that makes our friendships stronger.  Well the same applies to our friendship with Jesus.  This is why we need to have a regular prayer time every day that goes beyond those one-liner prayers. 

(I would say at least 15 minutes.)

But face to face contact with our friends is always the best, right? 

Well, in a certain sense, isn’t that precisely what Adoration is?  As one man put it, “When I go to Eucharistic Adoration I look at Jesus and he looks at me.”

There’s a lot of truth in that statement.

Finally, there’s the importance of our Christian friends in helping us stay connected to Jesus. 

Hopefully we all have Catholic, Christian friends.

Here’s an interesting question: What would have happened to Saul of Tarsus without his good friend, Barnabas?  As we heard in today’s first reading, the Christians in Jerusalem wanted nothing to do with Saul, even after his conversion!  They didn’t trust him; they didn’t believe that he had really converted! 

Only with Barnabas’ help did all of that change.  He talked to the apostles and somehow convinced them that Saul’s conversion was genuine.

Without Barnabas, Saul of Tarsus might never have become St. Paul!

So the bottom line is this: We live in a world where it’s very hard to stay connected.  It’s hard to stay connected to our friends and to develop strong relationships with them (even with all our social media), and it’s even harder to stay connected to Jesus and to develop a strong relationship with him.  But the good news is that both of those things are possible, if we work at them.

Every day.

 

When the Name of Jesus is Said, What do You Think of?

 

(Fourth Sunday of Easter (B): This homily was given on April 25, 2021 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Acts 4:8-12; Psalm 118:1-29; 1 John 3:1-2; John 10:11-18.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Fourth Sunday of Easter 2021]

Sometimes all you have to do is say the name.  That’s all that’s necessary.  Say the name, and certain images and ideas will immediately come to mind.

For example, say the name “Tom Brady” and most people will immediately think of football games, clutch passes and world championships.  Say the name “Albert Einstein,” and people will think of science, and intelligence and complicated formulas.  Saying the name “Mother Teresa” will lead, quite naturally, to thoughts of prayer and holiness and self-sacrifice.  Say the name “Fr. Ray” and some will immediately have thoughts of a big mouth about the size of the Grand Canyon.  Others might think of Sominex, if they’re among the people who “snooze through” his homily every week.

Which brings us to Jesus Christ: the King of kings; the Lord of lords; the Son of God; the Savior of the world!  When the name of Jesus is said, what do people think of?  In this case, my brothers and sisters, it’s hard to say.  Hopefully we’re like the apostles in this regard.  When the apostles heard the name of Jesus, a number of wonderful ideas filled their minds.  They thought of God’s love and God’s gift of salvation.  They thought of power—the power present in the name of Jesus to forgive sins, and expel demons, and cure the sick and raise the dead.  When the name of Jesus was mentioned, the apostles had thoughts of reverence, awe and mercy.  They had thoughts of gratitude.  They had thoughts of joy.  They had thoughts of heaven.  Today’s first reading from Acts 4 illustrates this beautifully.  Peter is speaking here to the Jewish authorities about a crippled man who had just been healed.  The man had asked Peter and John for an alms, and Peter responded, “I have neither silver nor gold, but what I have I give you!  In the name of Jesus Christ the Nazorean, walk!” 

And the man walked!  Incredibly, he walked!  Later on, when the members of the Sanhedrin questioned him about it, Peter said the words we heard a few moments ago: “Leaders of the people!  Elders!  If we must answer today for a good deed done to a cripple and explain how he was restored to health, then you and all the people of Israel must realize that it was done in the name of Jesus Christ the Nazorean whom you crucified and whom God raised from the dead.  In the power of that name this man stands before you perfectly sound. . . . There is no salvation in anyone else, for there is no other name in the whole world given to men by which we are to be saved.”

These are some of the holy thoughts the apostles had when they said (or heard) the name of Jesus.  However, in our modern world, not everyone has such sacred thoughts regarding the name of the Lord.  And here I’m not only referring to non-believers; I’m also referring to some who would call themselves believing Christians.  For example, when some contemporary Christians say the name of Jesus they don’t have the wonderful thoughts the apostles had; believe it or not, these people think of their thumbs.  (Yes, you heard me correctly: they think of their thumbs!)  Others think of their toes.  Others think of their disobedient children or their aggravating boss. 

Why do I say this?  Simple—it’s because the only time these individuals say the name of Jesus in public is when they hit their thumb with a hammer, or when they stub their toe, or when they get angry at their relatives or their boss!  It reminds me of something a comedian said once in one of his comic routines.  He said that for years he actually thought his name was Jesus Christ—because those were always the first words out of his father’s mouth whenever his dad would get angry at him.

Here is something that some of us may need to get very serious about.  I would say that it’s an absolute disgrace when Christians profane the Lord’s sacred name—this name that the apostles held in such reverence!  Now you might say, “But Fr. Ray, it’s just a habit—a nasty habit.  I really don’t mean it.”  Well, if that’s the case for us then we need to work hard at breaking the habit!  We need to find other, more appropriate ways to express our anger or surprise.  In today’s second reading from 1 John 3 it says, “See what love the Father has bestowed on us in letting us be called children of God!  Yet that is what we are.”  We are the adopted children of God the Father, the brothers and sisters of Jesus Christ, and yet amazingly some of us will use our elder brother’s name as a curse word!  Would we do that with one of our earthly siblings?  I sincerely doubt it.

Of course we also need to be aware of the fact that there are other ways to profane the Lord’s name.  In the examination of conscience that I sometimes give out to people, here are two of the questions for reflection that are listed under the second commandment (“Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain.”):

Number 1: Have I been hypocritical by adhering to a ritualistic observance [of my religion] while not actually living out my faith in practice?

Number 2: In conversation, have I passively [acquiesced] to slander and to jokes aimed at demeaning religion, the Church, or God’s authority?

The message contained in those questions is this: If we’re not really sincere about trying to apply the Gospel message to our daily lives, or if we verbally demean the things of God, or if we engage in public defiance of the Church (something that Catholics like our current President do on a regular basis), then we are guilty of profaning the Lord’s name.  We’re profaning his name because as Christians we are known to be the brothers and sisters of Jesus Christ—but we’re not conducting ourselves accordingly!

How very different the saints were!  The other day I read an account of the martyrdom of Paul Miki and his companions.  Paul Miki was born in Japan back in the 16th century.  He entered the Jesuits at a young age and did some marvelous work evangelizing the Japanese people.  Eventually, however, a persecution broke out against the Church, and he and twenty-five others (including some young children) were condemned to death and crucified. 

But here’s the interesting fact about their martyrdom: as they were hanging there on their crosses, minutes from death, they were all saying the name of Jesus—over and over and over again.  These holy souls found strength and peace in the Lord’s name—the strength and peace they desperately needed at that decisive moment.  They experienced those graces because they said his name with a deep love, a deep reverence, a deep faith.  That’s the type of example we should all want to follow.

Our Lord once said, “Whatever you ask the Father in my name he will give you.”  That’s a beautiful reminder that countless blessings are available to us through the name of the Lord: the blessing of healing (when it’s God’s will); the blessing of mercy and forgiveness; the blessing of God’s peace. 

Some of you were probably taught in Catholic school or in Catechism class to bow your head slightly whenever you heard or said the name of Jesus.  Praise God!  I think that’s a marvelous gesture of faith and reverence; a gesture that reminds us of the attitude we should always have in our hearts toward name of the Savior of the world. 

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the living God, may your name be praised and glorified by each and every one of us and by every Catholic—now and forever.  Amen.