Pax et Bonum

Christ the King 2024

ljohnson@olgchurch.org (Landon Johnson) — Sun, 24 Nov 2024 19:04:37 GMT

Our Lord, the Righteous King, the Just Judge

Jesus Christ is the faithful witness, the firstborn of the dead and ruler of the kings of the earth. To him who loves us and has freed us from our sins by his blood, who has made us into a kingdom, priests for his God and Father, to him be glory and power forever and ever. Amen.

Our Lord, the Righteous King, the Just Judge. The titles bestowed on Him by His own splendor and glory are inadequate, just as language itself is inadequate to express the depth and mystery of the Triune Deity. As Sacrament expresses in faint glimmers the presence and person of the God who became flesh, so His words and parables express glimmers of His personality and character. He revealed to us God as Father, and instructed us so to pray. He told us of the prodigal, and He uplifted the adulterous woman cast at His feet with gentle—yet piercing—mercy. He railed against the self-inflated hypocrisy of the Pharisees and drove greedy men from the Temple with a whip that He fashioned specifically for the purpose.

How do we reconcile these acts? Is He impetuous? Is He of divided mind? Is He given to flights of passion or wild emotion? These questions all seem reasonable on their face, particularly as we address the seeming bipolar moods of a lunatic. Any man who behaved in such a way may be thought such. The grounded mind, rooted in the firmness of the immovable world would certainly think so. The grounded mind, however, tends also to be the mind stifled, lacking imagination, devoid of the color of beauty and the music of love. To prevent our disenchantment, we must listen to our Lord not only with the reason of intellect, but with the ear of love—for how else do we grasp the depth of Love Himself?

There is almost no “letter” in the words of Jesus. Taken by a literalist, He will always prove the most illusive of teachers. Systems cannot keep up with that darting illumination. No net less wide than a man’s whole heart, nor less fine of mesh than love, will hold the sacred fish. -C.S. Lewis, Reflections on the Psalms

The words of our Lord penetrate the firmness of the grounded world. He often responds not to the question He is asked, but to the heart which has asked it. His gaze pierces through the stony exterior and masks we wear to hide ourselves. He struck the pride of the Pharisees and the greed of the money changers just as much as He plucked the chord of the woman who had fallen to the sins of the flesh. We are told little of her, but His response tells us that her heart was not hard like the hypocrites—but soft and raw with the wounds of life that send someone to seek that sort of validation.

He is Just Judge not simply because He is perfect in all His righteousness, but because He is also perfect in His knowledge—knowing not only what we have done, but every dark corner of our hearts that bears witness to why we have done it. His justice is not the simple punishment of wrongdoing, but the supreme justice which seeks to put things right. His love is the love of the Father, who casts aside the sins of the son and runs to him for the joy that he has come home. As a Father admonishes, so does He, according to not only the weight of the sin, but the hardness of the heart.

Always remember that you are subject to this most gracious Sovereign, and never cease to come to Him with a suppliant heart. He will catch you with the most tender firmness, and lift the burdensome cross from your back to place it on His own.

32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

Sun, 10 Nov 2024 17:41:06 GMT

All Saints - Only Saints

Do you know who you are? Who do you see when you look in the mirror? A man/woman? A Father/Mother? A Child? A Husband/Wife? A doctor/lawyer/accountant? A teacher/office worker/skilled laborer? Our self-image and how we identify ourselves is key to how we operate in the world every day.

We recently celebrated All Saints Day, a day when we recognize those who have finished their race and gone to the heavenly Beatific Vision. What made them so special? Or were they special at all? The saints we remember are really not much different than any of us. They were faithful to what God called them to, fulfilling their mission and relying on His grace. Their calling is no different from ours. Our mission may be different, but the goal—the calling—is the same: to be a saint.

To be a saint is simply to fulfill the unique call God has put on your life. Many saints did not do spectacular things. Some were faithful, godly parents who attempted to raise godly kids (Ex: Saint Monica who raised Saint Augustine). Monica patiently prayed for her son and left it to God to bring him to faith. Her actions were not particularly spectacular. But, they were consistent, faithful and longsuffering. Augustine was no saint as a young man, but his mother’s example and faith planted the seeds that brought him to faith. Her faith showed him what his identity could be if he surrendered to God’s will.

Do we see ourselves as God sees us? Do we embrace our position as a child of a loving heavenly Father who delights in even our feeble attempts to please Him? Those of us who have children can recall them bringing home from school their first piece of artwork. It was probably not a museum-worthy piece of art, but we proudly magnetized it to the refrigerator to show them how much we loved them and appreciated their effort. My actions to try and please my heavenly Father may not always succeed, but I am convinced even my failures delight His heart.

Simply put, that is what a saint does. A saint tries to faithfully love and serve God one day at a time, recognizing that even the effort—the attempt—is part of God’s plan to change us with virtue into the image of Jesus. The more I surrender to His will, the more He sees Jesus when He looks at me. St. Paul himself recognized this in his letters to the churches.

“Paul, an apostle of Jesus Christ, by the will of God, to all the saints who are at Ephesus and to the faithful in Christ Jesus.” Ephesians 1:1

Saints were not perfect, just surrendered. And only saints go to heaven. That is our calling, our goal and our true identity. So, Church, be who you are, and are called to become.

31st Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

ljohnson@olgchurch.org (Landon Johnson) — Sun, 03 Nov 2024 17:34:57 GMT

Deep Calls to Deep

Deep calls to deep

at the thunder of thy cataracts;

all thy waves and thy billows

have gone over me.

By day the Lord commands his steadfast love;

and at night his song is with me,

a prayer to the God of my life.

(Psalm 42:7-8)

To enter into the deep is to encounter Love—the tempests and waves reside on the surface, but Love abides in the deep. It is for this reason that Christ instructs that the greatest commandment is you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength. Love calls to Love, deep to deep, and through love we are drawn to depths beyond the reach of the fiercest turmoils.

The second is this: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. There is no other commandment greater than these. Have you ever wondered why bitter people are so superficial? Or why the narcissist is so shallow? In the words of St. Thomas Aquinas, sin darkens the intellect , but it also makes us paper cutouts of men. Wafer thin, easily damaged, and blown about by every gust. Virtue fleshes us out, gives us weight, and allows us to enter the deep. Love calls to Love, and to love our neighbor is to love the image of God found in him.

Who is our neighbor? Quite simply, the one to whom we are closest. Your spouse is your first neighbor, your children next, your family, your friends, the person who lives beside you, the members of your parish, the members of your town, your fellow countrymen. Patriotism, says the Church, is a form of love of neighbor. But our

order of priorities must be set rightly. If anyone says, “I love God,” but hates his brother, he is a liar. (1 John 4:20) Love calls to love, and to respond in love is to forgive and to cherish—for love covers a multitude of sins. (1 Peter 4:8) To refuse love of neighbor, then, is to refuse Love Himself. Selfishness is the anathema of love, narcissism

its poison—and if love of money is the root of all evil, then hatred is the currency of Hell itself, for what selfishness disregards, hatred pays with cruelty and spite.

Duc in altum —put out into the deep! Our Lord instructs wisely. The Deep calls to deep, Love calls us when we love, and when we abandon ourselves to that vast intimacy, we will there fill our nets with the abundance of Life, and that life will be the light of men—the beacon which others will follow—for deep calls to deep. Love ever points the way to the fathomless depths of Love Himself.

30th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

Sun, 27 Oct 2024 17:13:36 GMT

Excerpt from Letter to the Corinthians, Office of Readings

Let us fix our gaze on the Father and Creator of the whole world, and let us hold on to his peace and blessings, his splendid and surpassing gifts. Let us contemplate him in our thoughts and with our mind’s eye reflect upon the peaceful and restrained unfolding of his plan; let us consider the care with which he provides for the whole of his creation.

By his direction the heavens are in motion, and they are subject to him in peace. Day and night fulfil the course he has established without interfering with each other. The sun, the moon and the choirs of stars revolve in harmony at his command in their appointed paths without deviation. By his will the earth blossoms in the proper seasons and produces abundant food for men and animals and all the living things on it without reluctance and without any violation of what he has arranged.

Yet unexplored regions of the abysses and inexpressible realms of the deep are subject to his laws. The mass of the boundless sea, joined together by his ordinance in a single expanse, does not overflow its prescribed limits but flows as he commanded it. For he said: Thus far shall you come, and your waves will be halted here. The ocean, impassable for men, and the worlds beyond it are governed by the same edicts of the Lord.

The seasons, spring, summer, autumn and winter, follow one another in harmony. The quarters from which the winds blow function in due season without the least deviation. And the ever-flowing springs, created for our health as well as our enjoyment, unfailingly offer their breasts to sustain human life. The tiniest of living creatures meet together in harmony and peace. The great Creator and Lord of the universe commanded all these things to be

established in peace and harmony, in his goodness to all, and in overflowing measure to us who seek refuge in his mercies through our Lord Jesus Christ; to him be glory and majesty for ever and ever. Amen.

29th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

ljohnson@olgchurch.org (Landon Johnson) — Sun, 20 Oct 2024 16:42:04 GMT

Death to Self

The Lord was pleased to crush him in infirmity…through his suffering, my servant shall justify many, and their guilt shall he bear. It was not the crushing of Christ which pleased the Lord—His death is not the satisfaction of a God who delights in suffering. Rather, His obedience pleased the Lord. He accepted the crushing weight of sin, the scourging and humiliation of the cross, and the death accorded to criminals by their pagan rulers. His acceptance

pleased the Lord, and His humility unto death as a sheep led before the slaughter. He pleased the Lord through His

compassion, His meekness, and His choice of lowly estate. His poverty of spirit pleased the Lord.

The cup that I drink, you will drink, and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized. Whoever wishes to be great among you will be your servant; whoever wishes to be first among you will be the slave of all. For the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many. Like the camel and the eye of the needle, the weight of riches drags us down and makes it difficult to ascend the narrow way which leads to salvation. The cross alone is more than we can bear without His help, much less weighed down by our other attachments. Christ did not come to bring us wealth, but to instruct us in poverty. He did not come to bring us success, but to instruct us in humility. He did not come to give us comfort, but to instruct us in suffering.

The world is cruel because it is fallen—its temporal goods veiled in the shadow of the valley of tears. The forbidden fruit, which tempted our first ancestors, tempts each of us with bread which decays, glory which fades, and power which only dies.

Life comes not from these things, says our Lord, but from the Word which proceeds from the mouth of God—the Logos who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. The Word of the Cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. Christ tells us that everything we have desired, everything we have pursued, everything we have dreamed, everything that we are is wrong. So wrong, in fact, are we, that we must be reborn—started over from the very beginning. We must so thoroughly reject what we previously were that our old self is put to death as though on a cross, that we must put aside even our family in preference to Him, we must count trials as joy, and daily walk a path likened to the death marches of Roman convicts.

What miserable faith is this? What lousy company do we find in this macabre parade of death? We find the surprising truth that death has become life. Suffering has become joy. Poverty has become riches. The world is dead in sin, and to die to death is to live. Christ has forged the way for us, and He calls us out of that ancient grave

of our forefathers’ damnation. Why is His way so full of opposites? Because what the world offers is the opposite of what it seems. Do you have the faith to trust in what the world calls foolish? The first step is the ignominy of the cross. Take your impulses—your selfishness, your desires, your offense at others, your anger—and put them to death with the finality of Roman executioners. What awaits is not the searing nothing of annihilation, but liberation from the chains of sin. What awaits is the Eucharistic ocean which flows from the pierced Heart which so loves men. What awaits is the resurrection and the life, and the love beyond all telling which resides only in the bosom of Love Himself.

28th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

Sun, 13 Oct 2024 12:00:00 GMT

Devotion or Devotions?

We in the Church have been blessed with many gifts and tools to assist us in our prayer life. Things like the rosary, the Divine Mercy chaplet, Stations of the Cross, Lectio Divina , and, of course, Eucharistic Adoration. (As we sit before the Blessed Sacrament and adore Jesus in the Eucharist, what do you think He sees when he looks out at us? I believe He looks out and sees His Bride whom He also adores. Though He goes to prepare a place for us, He loves us so passionately He couldn’t stand to be away from us, so He comes to us sacramentally in intimate communion and we are never truly apart.)

The question is, as we practice these devotions are we growing in true devotion? Is the practice of these spiritual exercises and religious activities producing the Fruit of the Spirit? The danger is that we become great practitioners of our religion without producing the proper effects. It is analogous to being a spouse who fulfills all the obligations and responsibilities of marriage without actually loving his wife. I might “go through the motions” and claim to be a good husband because I pay the bills, cut the lawn and occasionally take out the garbage. I might claim to be a good husband because I do the actions, but do so without love and true devotion to my wife. That’s the definition of an empty marriage.

Our Lady of Grace is blessed to have priests who are committed to faithfully bringing us the sacraments. I am amazed at how often we have the Sacrament of Confession offered in our church. We also have frequent Adoration and other beautiful liturgies to enhance our faith life. But is it reflected in our life with each other? Do we treat each other at OLG with respect, appreciation, and true familial love? Is the Fruit of the Spirit here in abundance (Galatians 5:22-23 - Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness and Self-control)? Is the Spirit alive and evident in dynamic ministries that serve each other the wider community? Does the rest of Greensboro look at OLG and say, “Look at how they love each other!”? If not, what is the result of all our prayers and religious practice? If we’re not being personally transformed by all our prayers, why are we doing them? Do we truly love Jesus, our Father, and the Spirit more—allowing Their love to change us from the inside out? I would propose that unless we’re being changed more and more into His image and likeness, then all the prayers and practices we engage in are just to make us feel better.

So, consider whether all our devotions are making us better disciples—more loving and transformed to be more Christlike, showing each other and the world around us that Jesus is alive and still in the business of changing lives. Anything less is resisting all He wants to do in and with us, and He said Himself, “You shall know them by their fruit.”

I’ll end with a great quote: “We repent enough to be forgiven, but do we surrender enough to change?”

27th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

Sun, 06 Oct 2024 12:00:06 GMT

The Little Way - Becoming a Saint!

+JMJ+

“Do not be afraid to be holy!” Such were the words of Pope Saint John Paul II on August 7, 1999 to the young people of Europe. And yet, these words are also for us ( all of us) today! The month of October is jam packed with beautiful feast days (such as Pope Saint John Paul II, Saint Teresa of Jesus, Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus and of the Holy Face, Saint Faustina, and Saint Francis of Assisi to name a handful); the month is then wrapped up as a big gift for God and Heaven by being the month of The Holy Rosary. Perhaps this is a good reminder for us that devotion and consecration to Our Blessed Mother is the “surest, easiest, shortest, and the most perfect means to becoming a saint.” (Father Michael Gaitley, MIC, 33 Days to Morning Glory ) But how do we set about becoming the saint God made us to be? Do we actually believe we were created to be a saint? If so, is this even possible?

Each and every one of you reading this is called to be a saint, to be holy, to be set apart for God–to be His own beloved one! Very simply, all those who make it to Heaven are saints, so, although we have many Saints’ feast days in the liturgical calendar, there are still many saints in Heaven that we are unaware of.

While it could seem a very lofty goal to become a saint, I would like to propose to you that it is not hard at all. In fact, it is so simple and so easy, that that is exactly what makes it seem to be so hard! Our little friend and sister, Saint Thérèse of Lisieux, taught us “The Little Way” to get to Heaven. She rediscovered the truth which we heard from Our Lord in today’s Gospel reading, which consoled her greatly during her earthly life and gave her confidence that she could become a great Saint: “Let the children come to me; do not prevent them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Amen, I say to you, whoever does not accept the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it.” (Mark 10:2-16) Therefore, Saint Therese reminds us that to enter the kingdom of God, we must remain very little, accept our weakness and littleness, aware that our weakness and littleness is the means by which we are drawn up into Communion with the Most Holy Trinity. That, by remaining childlike, Jesus' arms become “the elevator” (as Saint Therese said) by which we are lifted up to Eternity!

In order to become the saint God made us to be, we must also remain very little, surrendering ourselves completely to Our Father Who loves us, and fall madly in love with the “Loving Madman” (Saint Catherine of Siena). “It is the saints who know what being in love is all about. Earthly love pales in comparison.” (Father Thomas Dubay, SM, The Fire Within ) The Saints teach us how simple it all is, that it is all about trust and love–authentic, self-sacrificing love, and complete and radical trust. This love is heard by the first man and woman (Genesis 2:18-24), and again in a certain way by Our Precious Lord in His Presence in the Most Holy Eucharist: “bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh.” United to Love Himself in this Most Holy Communion, we can become the saints God made us to be. Not relying on our own merits, goodness, or virtue (although these will come naturally to a soul united to God), but rather depending totally on Him for everything, as a child depends completely on its mother and father.

Friends, this month of the Most Holy Rosary, let us find friendship with the great saints, and in particular the Queen of All Saints, that we might become the saints God created us to be. Let us remember often the words of Pope Saint John Paul II: “Do not be satisfied with mediocrity… Do not be afraid to be holy! Have the courage and humility to present yourselves to the world determined to be holy, since full, true freedom is born from holiness. This aspiration will help you discover genuine love, untainted by selfish and alienating permissiveness.” Let us also ask Saint Therese to help us discover (or rediscover) her Little Way. Let us hide ourselves in the Most Precious Wounds of Jesus, the Lover of our souls, that we might, even now, experience Eternity!

+ All you holy angels and saints, pray for us! +

26th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

ljohnson@olgchurch.org (Landon Johnson) — Sun, 29 Sep 2024 12:00:03 GMT

Bearing Our Burdens

In today’s Gospel, Jesus delivers a very astringent message. He speaks of the danger of Hell, and warns against being the cause for another to sin. He uses the phrase one of these little ones , and there are multiple interpretations—children, those who are children in the faith, those who are children of God (anyone to whom applies love of neighbor ), and to varying extents these are all valid interpretations. He then goes on to describe, in vivid detail, how it would be better to live with being physically maimed than to sin and perish in a fate worse than crippling injury.

I think, often as Catholics, we remember more than others that suffering is part of life. Offer it up is a common mantra and we do not shy from the Sorrowful Mysteries. While this is advantageous, what is common can also become rote. We think of the ordinary offering it up as the cold we had last week, or the toe we stubbed in the dark, or the annoyance with a bad driver in traffic. What Christ describes, though, is markedly more severe. Can we compare those minor offenses to our sensibilities to having an eye gouged out? Can a temporary illness compare to the permanent loss of a hand? The early Christians would not have made such a mistake, as they were subject to frequent persecution, torture, and martyrdom.

Last week, Father Coleman spoke about complacency and the tendency to do what is comfortable. In a society of convenience, it is a very common trap to be complacent. Pain spurs people to action by forcing them to seek relief. When the pains of day to day life are so greatly mitigated, we are responsible for providing our own motivation; but, the curse of the Fall works against us. Some may see the loosening of the requirements of the Church as laxity; but, to some extent, it is also necessary, for we live in a time of extraordinary personal weakness. The hardships that were commonplace just two or three generations ago would be absolutely crippling to many living today. We cannot endure the tasks that were appointed to them, much less the persecution that came to the early Church.

Just as it would be unwise to try a professional bodybuilder’s routine the first time one goes to the gym, it is unwise to try to attain the same level of devotion and penance of the saints and the martyrs when we barely even know what hunger feels like, much less the hunger of a week long black fast. However, it is to those things that Christ calls us—in His mercy, He knows the amount of work it will take us to get there. We are obligated to start, to begin developing lives of discipleship and sacrifice which will lead us toward that goal. We are required to walk the narrow road, crosses shouldered. We have to begin. If we do not, we will be the sleeping virgins who missed the coming of the Bridegroom. We will be the servants who hear the dreaded pronouncement, depart from Me, I never knew you.

As long as we try, He promises His faithfulness. We must try to bear our burdens gracefully. We must try to be charitable and kind. We must make a concerted effort not to assume the worst of others, or to gossip, or to be jealous, or to cause scandal or spread detraction. These acts, by their very nature, bring excommunication—not always by formal fiat, but by their very nature they break communion with the Body. However, if we accept the cross of attempting to rid ourselves of these impulses and defects, we can be assured of His mercy—because even if we do not always bear our burdens well, that we bear them is dear to the heart of Christ.

25th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

Sun, 22 Sep 2024 12:00:38 GMT

On Weak Christians

You have failed to strengthen the weak, says the Lord. He is speaking to wicked shepherds, false shepherds, shepherds who seek their own concerns and not those of Christ. They enjoy the bounty of milk and wool, but they take no care at all of the sheep, and they make no effort to heal those who are ill. I think there is a difference between one who is weak (that is, not strong) and one who is ill, although we often say that the weak are also suffering from illness.

My brothers, when I try to make that distinction, perhaps I could do it better and with greater precision, or perhaps someone with more experience and insight could do so. But when it comes to the words of Scripture, I say what I think so that in the meantime you will not be deprived of all profit. In the case of the weak sheep, it is to be feared that the temptation, when it comes, may break him. The sick person, however, is already ill by reason of some illicit desire or other, and this is keeping him from entering God’s path and submitting to Christ’s yoke.

There are men who want to live a good life and have already decided to do so, but are not capable of bearing sufferings even though they are ready to do good. Now it is a part of the Christian’s strength not only to do good works but also to endure evil. Weak men are those who appear to be zealous in doing good works but are unwilling or unable to endure the sufferings that threaten. Lovers of the world, however, who are kept from good works by some evil desire, lie sick and listless, and it is this sickness that deprives them of any strength to accomplish good works.

The paralytic was like that. When his bearers could not bring him in to the Lord, they opened the roof and lowered him down to the feet of Christ. Perhaps you wish to do this in spirit: to open the roof and to lower a paralytic soul down to the Lord. All its limbs are lifeless, it is empty of every good work, burdened with its sins, and weak from the illness brought on by its evil desires. Since all its limbs are helpless, and the paralysis is interior, you cannot come to the physician. But perhaps the physician is himself concealed within; for the true understanding of Scripture is hidden. Reveal therefore what is hidden, and thus you will open the roof and lower the paralytic to the feet of Christ.

As for those who fail to do this and those who are negligent, you have heard what was said to them: You have failed to heal the sick; you have failed to bind up what was broken. Of this we have already spoken. Man was broken by terrible temptations. But there is at hand a consolation that will bind what was broken: God is faithful. He does not allow you to be tempted beyond your strength, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.

-St. Augustine, On Weak Christians , Office of Readings

24th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

Sun, 15 Sep 2024 12:00:06 GMT

Stewardship in Action

This year, OLG has been highlighting stewardship as a focus. This topic often is related to finances, but it implies much more than simply money. Tithing a portion of our income and financial resources (typically 10%) is a well-established biblical principle. If you are a regular contributor to the financial needs of the church, thank you. It is a privilege to give back to God some of the blessings we have. His providence extends to concern for our material needs and He abundantly meets those needs. He gives us the ability to work and earn a living to support both our families and His church. If you are not a regular “giver” to the church, you and your household need to decide to what extent you will financially support the OLG ministries and family life. We all benefit from the sacramental and community life of OLG, and we, therefore, all share in the responsibility to support the mission on an ongoing basis.

The wider perspective is more focused on seeing our parish life as family. Families not only share their money, but their time and effort to make family life work. As such, I have written before about the need for us to all consider how else we can participate in the active life of the church. How else can we serve each other? What are the various ministries where I can contribute or participate?

A few months back we presented a “Discovering Your Gifts” workshop to help us all think through how God has given us abilities to give back to our church family. We then followed that with a successful Ministry Fair, an opportunity to gather more information about all the ways we can work together in the ministries and participate in the sacramental life.

The next step is our “Sign Up Sunday” on September 22nd. You will find a sign-up card in the pews and in the back of the church this week. Please take it home and prayerfully consider where you can “get in the game” and actively participate in our OLG family life. You can bring the completed card back with you next week or complete one on the 22nd. You are invited to Donut Sunday next week where you can again see information on the various ministries.

As I stated in the “Discovering Your Gifts” workshop, the greatest ability God asks of us is availability. We all have gifts to offer back to the Lord and to each other. We all need each other’s gifts to complete the work of Christ and enrich our church family experience. Thank you again for your prayerful consideration.

23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

ljohnson@olgchurch.org (Landon Johnson) — Sun, 08 Sep 2024 12:00:05 GMT

The Words of Eternal Life

Today’s Gospel reading is a simple one—on its face, it speaks to the impact of Jesus’ ministry. He performed such wonders that people could not help but talk about Him, such was their astonishment at His healings and miracles. These acts of Christ led to the following of the multitudes we read about in John 6; but, let us also remember why the multitudes ceased following Him. They followed because of the works they saw, but they left when He professed works they could not see. They believed what they had seen, but did not possess the faith to believe what is unseen. They did not trust Him enough to take Him at His word.

Our Lord, in this reading from Mark 7, performs several acts which should immediately be familiar to us. He touches a man’s infirmities—the matter of his illness—raises His eyes to heaven, and speaks. At the moment of His pronunciation, nature obeys. Similarly, we witness this action performed and recited by Christ’s minister, beginning by extending his hands over the offerings in the epiclesis— Be pleased, O God, we pray, to bless, acknowledge, and approve this offering in every respect; make it spiritual and acceptable, so that it may become for us the Body and Blood of your most beloved Son, our Lord Jesus Christ. The priest here prays in humble petition, asking for and telling us that he will perform the same acts as Christ. He then takes the bread in his hands, touching the matter of the sacrament. While narrating our Lord’s acts in the prayer, he raises his eyes to heaven, and then bowing in reverence, he speaks Christ’s words— This is My Body. This is My Blood. At the moment of this pronunciation, nature obeys.

What Christ demonstrated visibly, His ministers perform sacramentally and invisibly. By the evidence of physical healing, Christ demonstrates what He said of the paralytic in Matthew 9—“ which is easier, to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Rise and walk’? But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins”—he then said to the paralytic—“Rise, pick up your bed and go home.” Through healing the deaf mute, Christ demonstrates His authority to command nature. He says to us, through my touch and my words, nature obeys. My Father spoke and all that is came to be. When I speak, all that is becomes new. He passed this authority to His apostles when He gave the keys to heaven to Peter and pronounced what you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven and what you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven. He leaves us no choice—in John 6 He says that the act of belief is the act which saves—the act of belief is the act of obedience!

His minister obeys by taking up the power of the keys and imitating our Lord in the sacraments. We obey by trusting His words, heeding His promises given to His Church, and following after Him. How do we know the Eucharist is His body? Because He said it is, and He demonstrated to us that His word is the truth to which nature conforms itself! How do we know that there is life after death? Because He died and rose again, as He said that He would! How do we know that He is true God and true Man? Because He said before Abraham was, I AM! Those words were not just the words of a prophet, but spoken with the power and authority of God. So powerful were those words that when the mob came to arrest Him in the garden, demanding His life, He responded to them I AM and that great armed mob drew back and fell to the ground at the sound of Him!

Do not let today’s Gospel simply be a story. Let it be, as the author of the letter to the Hebrews writes, the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. The multitude who left Jesus, never to return, murmured and scoffed, how can this man give us his flesh to eat? He gives us precisely what He promised, not mere symbol or pageantry, but reality—because the very substance of nature bends its knee to His command. Let this Gospel be our conviction, modeled by Peter— You have the words of eternal life.

22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

Sun, 01 Sep 2024 17:08:27 GMT

Are You a Jonah or a Jesus?

Despite our best efforts, the ubiquitous influence of our culture can hardly be kept out of our lives. The messages of relativism, self-centeredness, and utilitarian relationships permeate virtually every form of communication and so-called entertainment. Radio, newspapers, the ever-present internet, TV shows all carry the subtle and not-so-subtle messages of a world view without a God perspective—not to mention the commercials! There are days when my household would love to pack it in, move to a remote hilltop, store up some food and water and retreat. Retreat is the right word, but is that what Jesus calls us to do?

Jonah was a righteous man. But his righteousness became just that— his righteousness. He fell into the trap of judging himself worthy by comparing himself to those around him he deemed less "godly" than he. For what's it worth, it’s probably safe to assume that there will always be those around us with characters better and worse than ours, so why bother judging at all? Paul states that he "did not even judge himself", so why would we get into the comparison trap? Regardless, Jonah found himself one day standing at a safe distance, viewing Ninevah, waiting for God to smite "those" sinners with fire and brimstone. But what happened? Rather than smite them and show His justice, God instead directed Jonah to be the messenger of His mercy. Needless to say, Jonah was disappointed (totally bummed is more like it!) at God interrupting what would have been an awesome display of His power as he destroyed the city. But then to direct Jonah to deliver the absolute last message Jonah wanted to bring to the inhabitants of these two cities—God’s mercy and an invitation to repent and turn back to God—well, he'd rather spend time in the belly of a whale! He got his wish!

Our own culture sadly resembles the Ninevah of Jonah’s day. No need here to document the many ills of our society. The question simply is would Jesus have been standing on the hill next to Jonah waiting for the fireworks to start, or would He have been walking the streets of Nineveh reaching out to the "worst of sinners" with a message of love and mercy? Just ask Matthew the tax collector, or Zacchaeus, or the woman at the well, or the woman caught in adultery (where was the guy she was caught with anyway?)

The challenge we have is to nurture our children and protect their innocence, while at the same time modeling a life which reaches out to the lost—those in most need of His grace. Many of us are involved in acts of mercy—giving to the poor, visiting the sick, comforting the grieving; but, what about those who are truly caught in the grip of evil or at least blinded by the Deceiver into ignoring God, living as practical atheists/agnostics? Mother Theresa, herself known for acts of mercy, spoke often of "seeing Jesus in His distressing disguise". She saw Jesus suffering in the eyes of a starving child, the outcast leper, the ostracized AIDS victim. These circumstances cry out for someone to touch them with love and mercy; but, what about those around us with less discernible crosses? The single mother struggling to raise her children under the burdens of time and poverty, the workaholic neighbor who sees his self-worth solely in his career and entrapments of materialism, the teenager alienated from his parents, crying out for someone to validate his worth by listening to him.

Certainly, living the Christian life should be attractive to those around us; but, perhaps we need to be close enough to them so they can not only see Jesus from a distance, but feel His touch, hear His voice, and experience the kind of look the rich young man saw in Mark 10. I can see Jesus as He felt the young man's inner struggle. What did Jesus do? He got close enough to his potential disciple to look deep into his eyes. Jesus "looked at him, and loved him and said, 'Give what you have to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven and, come, follow me.'" What was it about that look of Jesus that communicated His profound love for this young man? How wise and gracious of Jesus to profoundly and actively love this young man just as He was about to issue the biggest challenge of this young man's life. First the love—then the challenge.

We are surrounded by those who long for someone to look at them and love them—and then issue the invitation to follow Jesus. Let us not shrink back in fear or judgment from those around us masquerading in their modern day "distressing disguise". Let us instead show the world how love is an action word and the gospel a living, dynamic force of grace in a world in need of His look of love, touch of mercy, voice of comfort, and embrace of healing.

21st Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

ljohnson@olgchurch.org (Landon Johnson) — Sun, 25 Aug 2024 12:00:02 GMT

Humility and Christ's Teaching

By now, I am certain it has occurred to some readers to wonder why, for the last four weeks, we have had reflections from St. Benedict’s Rule to accompany our readings. St. Benedict has been instructing on obedience, silence, and humility—how does that connect with our Lord’s instruction in John 6?

The answer is simple: what St. Benedict instructs directly, our Lord illustrates in practice. In John 6, we see a progression where many disciples follow Christ because of the miracle He performs with the fish and loaves, but then the majority turn away when He teaches foreshadowing the Holy Eucharist. They followed what appealed to them, but rejected His teaching that was difficult. He calls them to receive the bread from Heaven which gives eternal life, but they balk, rejecting the very first instruction He had given them: This is the work of God, that you believe in the One He sent. This discourse all follows that instruction, they ask, What sign can you do, that we may see and believe in you? Christ tells them they must receive Him, the Bread of Heaven, and they must commit themselves fully, eating His flesh and drinking His blood. They answer with doubt, How can this man give us His flesh to eat? and again, This saying is hard; who can accept it? Then, many of them returned to their former way of life.

St. Benedict instructs, Let us follow the Prophet’s counsel: “I said, I have resolved to keep watch over my ways that I may never sin with my tongue. I have put a guard on my mouth. I was silent and was humbled, and I refrained even from good words.” (RB 6:1) This very obedience, however, will be acceptable to God and agreeable to men only if compliance with what is commanded is not cringing or sluggish or healf-hearted, but free from any grumbling or any reaction of unwillingness. (RB 5:14)

The first sign of trouble in the crowd of John 6 came as The Jews murmured about Jesus and they said Is this not Jesus, the son of Joseph? Do we not know his father and mother? Then how can He say, “I have come down from heaven”? The grumbling and murmuring of the crowd was the spark of the infection that led them astray. It was the canary in the coal mine that showed the emergence of pride over humility and led to disobedience.

The second step of humility is that a man loves not his own will nor takes pleasure in the satisfaction of his desires. (RB 7:31) Our Lord knew at once the hearts of the many disciples who pursued Him to Capernaum, Amen, amen, I say to you, you are looking for Me not because you saw signs but because you ate the loaves and were filled. Do not work for food that perishes but for the food that endures for eternal life. He saw that inclination toward satisfaction of their own desires, and He warned them where it would lead, but in want of humility, that warning was unheeded.

The fourth step of humility is that in this obedience under difficult, unfavorable, or even unjust conditions, his heart quietly embraces suffering and endures it without weakening or seeking escape. Another passage shows how the faithful must endure everything, even contradiction, for the Lord’s sake, saying in the person of those who suffer, “For your sake we are put to death continually;” (RB 7:35-36, 38) Humility is the key ingredient in obedience, which is the necessary disposition of the will to follow Christ. The crowd was not inclined to leave behind mother, father, brother, or sister; the crowd valued the comfort of the approval of the strangers left and right. They took in the grumbling, they acquiesced to the pressure of peers, they followed the ways which men call right that in the end plunge into the depths of hell. (Prov 16:25; RB 7:21). They returned to their former way of life and no longer accompanied him. From this point, the multitudes would never follow Him again.

But what of the Twelve? Such people as these immediately put aside their own concerns, abandon their own will, and lay down whatever they have in hand, leaving it unfinished. With the ready step of obedience, they follow the voice of authority in their actions. (RB 5:7-8) We see this readily when they first heard the call of Christ, they abandoned their nets to follow Him. They were not fixated on the importance of their work or desires, they did not care about the thoughts of anyone who may have witnessed them. They abandoned what they had to pursue the Bread of Everlasting Life. They left the ways which men call right to pursue the narrow road that leads to life. (Matt 7:14; RB 5:11). Jesus asked them, Do you also want to leave? St. Peter answered for the Twelve, Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.

They no longer live by their own judgment, giving in to their whims and appetites. Men of this resolve unquestionably conform to the saying of the Lord: “I have come not to do my own will, but the will of him who sent me.” (John 6:38; RB 5:12,13) Heeding the warning of our Lord, and listening in humility to the teaching of St. Benedict, we must free ourselves from the vices which take us down the broad path of destruction. If we want to follow the narrow way, we must be free of the vices of grumbling, gossip, detraction, and all manner of ill speech. We must esteem silence and listen humbly. We must esteem ourselves little so that our own desires do not obstruct our will from being conformed to His. We must obey unhesitatingly and with joy. These actions prepare us for the ultimate obedience of casting off every disordered attachment as we plunge willingly into the fires of purgation—accepting without reservation the suffering which brings us to God in eternity.

The labor of obedience will bring you back to him from whom you had drifted through the sloth of disobedience. (RB Prologue:2) Through discipline we learn the virtues of humility and obedience, and through practice we grow in love that impels [us] to pursue everlasting life, making us eager to take the narrow road road. (RB 5:10,11) This message of mine is for you, then, if you are ready to give up your own will, once and for all, and armed with the strong and noble weapons of obedience to do battle for the true King, Christ the Lord. Do not be daunted immediately by fear and run away from the road that leads to salvation. It is bound to be narrow at the outset. But as we progress in this way of life and in faith, we shall run on the path of God’s commandments, our hearts overflowing with the inexpressible delight of love. Never swerving from his instructions, then, but faithfully observing his teaching until death, we shall through patience share in the sufferings of Christ that we may deserve also to share in his kingdom. Amen. (RB Prologue:3,48-50)

20th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

ljohnson@olgchurch.org (Landon Johnson) — Sun, 18 Aug 2024 12:00:00 GMT

Humility and Christ's Teaching

(continued next week)

19th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

Sun, 11 Aug 2024 12:00:00 GMT

Sixth through Twelfth Steps of Humility

The sixth step of humility is that a monk is content with the lowest and most menial treatment, and regards himself as a poor and worthless workman in whatever task he is given, saying to himself with the Prophet: I am insignificant and ignorant, no better than a beast before you, yet I am with you always (Ps 72[73]:22-23].

The seventh step of humility is that a man not only admits with his tongue but is also convinced in his heart that he is inferior to all and of less value, humbling himself and saying with the Prophet: I am truly a worm, not a man, scorned by men and despised by the people (Ps 21[22]:7). I was exalted, then I was humbled and overwhelmed with confusion (Ps 87[88]:16). And again, It is a blessing that you have humbled me so that I can learn your commandments (Ps 118[119]:71,73).

The eighth step of humility is that a monk does only what is endorsed by the common rule of the monastery and the example set by his superiors.

The ninth step of humility is that a monk controls his tongue and remains silent, not speaking unless asked a question, for Scripture warns, In a flood of words you will not avoid sinning (Prov 10:19), and, A talkative man goes about aimlessly on earth (Ps 139[140]:12).

The tenth step of humility is that he is not given to ready laughter, for it is written: Only a fool raises his voice in laughter (Sir 21:23).

The eleventh step of humility is that a monk speaks gently and without laughter, seriously and with becoming modesty, briefly and reasonably, but without raising his voice, as it is written: A wise man is known by his few words.

The twelfth step of humility is that a monk always manifests humility in his bearing no leass than in his heart, so that it is evident at the Work of God, in the oratory, the monastery or the garden, on a journey or in the field, or anywhere else.Whether he sits, walks, or stands, his head must be bowed and his eyes cast down. Judging himself always guilty on account of his sins, he should consider that he is already at the fearful judgment, and constantly say in his heart what the publican in the Gospel said with downcast eyes: Lord, I am a sinner, not worthy to look up to heaven (Luke 18:13). And with the Prophet: I am bowed down and humbled in every way (Ps 37[38]:7-9; Ps 118[119]:107).

Now, therefore, after ascending all these steps of humility, the monk will quickly arrive at that perfect love of God which casts out fear (1 John 4:18). Through this love, all that he once performed with dread, he will now begin to observe without effort, as though naturally from habit, no longer out of fear of hell, but out of love for Christ, good habit and delight in virtue. All this the Lord will by the Holy Spirit graciously manifest in his workman now cleansed of vices and sins.

-RB 7:49-70

Listen carefully, my son, to the master’s instructions, and attend to them with the ear of your heart. This is advice from a father who loves you; welcome it, and faithfully put it into practice. The labor of obedience will bring you back to him from whom you had drifted through the sloth of disobedience. This message of mine is for you, then, if you are ready to give up your own will, once and for all, and armed with the strong and noble weapons of obedience to do battle for the true King, Christ the Lord.

-RB Prologue:1-3

18th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

Sun, 04 Aug 2024 12:00:00 GMT

Humility

The second step of humility is that a man loves not his own will nor takes pleasure in the satisfaction of his desires; rather he shall imitate by his actions that saying of the Lord: I have come not to do my own will, but the will of him who sent me (John 6:38). Similarly, we read, “Consent merits punishment, constraint wins a crown.”

The third step of humility is that a man submits to his superior in all obedience for the love of God, imitating the Lord of whom the Apostle says: He became obedient even to death (Phil 2:8).

The fourth step of humility is that in this obedience under difficult, unfavorable, or even unjust conditions, his heart quietly embraces suffering and endures it without weakening or seeking escape. For Scripture has it: Anyone who perseveres to the end will be saved (Matt 10:22), and again, Be brave of heart and rely on the Lord (Ps 26[27]:14). Another passage shows how the faithful must endure everything, even contradiction, for the Lord’s sake, saying in the person of those who suffer, For your sake we are put to death continually; we are regarded as sheep marked for slaughter (Rom 8:36; Ps 43[44]:22). They are so confident in their expectation of reward from God that they continue joyfully and say, But in all this we overcome because of him who so greatly loved us (Rom 8:37). Elsewhere Scripture says: O God, you have tested us, you have tried us as silver is tried by fire; you have led us into a snare, you have placed afflictions on our backs (Ps 65[66]:10-11). Then, to show that we ought to be under a superior, it adds: You have placed men over our heads (Ps 65[66]:12).

In truth, those who are patient amid hardships and unjust treatment are fulfilling the Lord’s command: When struck on the cheek, they turn the other; when deprived of their coat, they offer their cloak also; when pressed into service for one mile, they go two (Matt 5:39-41). With the Apostle Paul, they bear with false brothers, endure persecution, and bless those who curse them (2 For 11:26; 1 Cor 4:12).

The fifth step of humility is that a man does not conceal from his abbot any sinful thoughts entering his heart, or any wrongs committed in secret, but rather confesses them humbly. Concerning this, Scripture exhorts us: Make known your way to the Lord and hope in him (Ps 36[37]:5). And again, Confess to the Lord, for he is good; his mercy is forever (Ps 105[106]:1; Ps 117[118]:1). So too the Prophet: To you I have acknowledged my offense; my faults I have not concealed. I have said: Against myself I will report my faults to the Lord, and you have forgiven the wickedness of my heart (Ps 31[32]:5).

RB 7:31-48

17th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

Sun, 28 Jul 2024 12:00:05 GMT

Humility

Brothers, divine Scripture calls to us saying: Whoever exalts himself shall be humbled, and whoever humbles himself shall be exalted (Luke 14:11; 18:14). In saying this, therefore, it shows us that every exaltation is a kind of pride, which the Prophet indicates he has shunned, saying: Lord, my heart is not exalted; my eyes are not lifted up and I have not walked in the ways of the great nor gone after marvels beyond me (Ps 130[131]:1). And why? If I had not a humble spirit, but were exalted instead, then you would treat me like a weaned child on its mothers lap (Ps 130[131]:2).

Accordingly, brothers, if we want to reach the highest summit of humility, if we desire to attain speedily that exaltation in heaven to which we climb by the humility of this present life, then by our ascending actions we must set up that ladder on which Jacob in a dream saw angels descending and ascending (Gen 28:12). Without a doubt, this descent and ascent can signify only that we descend by exaltation and ascend by humility. Now the ladder erected is our life on earth, and if we humble our hearts the Lord will raise it to heaven. We may call our body and soul the sides of this ladder, into which our divine vocation has fitted the various steps of humility and discipline as we ascend.

The first step of humility, then, is that a man keeps the fear of God always before his eyes (Ps 35[36]:2) and never forgets it. He must constantly remember everything God has commanded, keeping in mind that all who despise God will burn in hell for their sins, and all who fear God have everlasting life awaiting them. While he guards himself at every moment from sins and vices of thought or tongue, of hand or foot, of self-will or bodily

desire, let him recall that he is alwasys seen by God in heaven, that his actions everywhere are in God’s sight and are reported by angels at every hour.

The Prophet indicates this to us wshen he shows that our thoughts are always present to God, saying: God searches hearts and minds (Ps 7:10); again he says: The Lord knows the thoughts of men (Ps 93[94]:11); likewise, From afar you know my thoughts (Ps 138[139]:3); and The thought of man shall give you praise (Ps 75[76]:11). That he may take care to avoid sinful thoughts, the virtuous brother must always say to himself: I shall be blameless in his sight if I guard myself from my own wickedness (Ps 17[18]:24).

Truly, we are forbidden to do our own will, for Scripture tells us: Turn away from your desires (Sir 18:30). And in the Prayer too we ask God that his will be done in us (Matt 6:10). We are rightly taught not to do our own will, since we dread what Scripture says: There are ways which men call right that in the end plunge into the depths of hell (Prov 16:25).Moreover, we fear what is said of those who ignore this: They are corrupt and have become depraved in their desires (Ps 13[14]:1)

As for the desires of the body, we must believe that God is always with us, for All my desires are known to you (Ps 37[38]:10), as the Prophet tells the Lord. We must then be on guard against any base desire, because death is stationed near the gateway of pleasure. For this reason Scripture warns us, Pursue not your lusts (Sir 18:30).

RB 7:1-25

16th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

Sun, 21 Jul 2024 12:00:08 GMT

Obedience and Silence

The first step of humility is unhesitating obedience, which comes naturally to those who cherish Christ above all. Because of the holy service they have professed, or because of dread of hell and for the glory of everlasting life, they carry out the superior’s order as promptly as if the command came from God himself. The Lord says of men like this: No sooner did he hear than he obeyed me (Ps 17[18]:45); again, he tells teachers: Whoever listens to you, listens to me (Luke 10:16). Such people as these immediately put aside their own concerns, abandon their own will, and lay down whatever they have in hand, leaving it unfinished. With the ready step of obedience, they follow the voice of authority in their actions. Almost at the same moment, then, as the master gives the instruction the disciple quickly puts it into practice in the fear of God; and both actions together are swiftly completed as one.

It is love that impels them to pursue everlasting life; therefore they are eager to take the narrow road of which the Lord says: Narrow is the road that leads to life (Matt 7:14). They no longer live by their own judgment, giving in to their whims and appetites; rather they walk according to another’s decisions and directions, choosing to live in monasteries and to have an abbot over them. Men of this resolve unquestioningly conform to the saying of the Lord: I have come not to do my own will, but the will of him who sent me (John 6:38).

This very obedience, however, will be acceptable to God and agreeable to men only if compliance with what is commanded is not cringing or sluggish or half-hearted, but free from any grumbling or reaction of unwillingness. For the obedience shown to superiors is given to God, as he himself said: Whoever listens to you, listens to me (Luke 10:16). Furthermore, the disciples’ obedience must be given gladly, for God loves a cheerful giver (2 For 9:7). If a disciple obeys grudgingly and grumbles, not only aloud but also in his heart, then, even though he carries out the order, his action will not be accepted with favor by God, who sees that he is grumbling in his heart. He will have no reward for service of this kind; on the contrary, he will incur punishment for grumbling, unless he changes for the better and makes amends.

Let us follow the Prophet’s counsel: I said, I have resolved to keep watch over my ways that I may never sin with my tongue. I have put a guard on my mouth. I was silent and was humbled, and I refrained even from good words (Ps 38[39]:2-3). Here the Prophet indicates that there are times when good words are to be left unsaid out of esteem for silence. For all the more reason, then, should evil speech be curbed so that punishment for sin may be avoided. Indeed, so important is silence that permission to speak should seldom be granted even to mature disciples, no matter how good or holy or constructive their talk, because it is written: In a flood of words you will not avoid sin (Prov 10:19); and elsewhere, The tongue holds the key to life and death (Prov 18:21). Speaking and teaching are the master’s task; the disciple is to be silent and listen.

Therefore, any requests to a superior should be made with humility and respectful submission. We absolutely condemn in all places any vulgarity and gossip and talk leading to laughter, and we do not permit a disciple to engage in words of that kind.

-RB 5-6

15th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

ljohnson@olgchurch.org (Landon Johnson) — Sun, 14 Jul 2024 12:00:06 GMT

Sending and Obedience

This week’s readings are about sending—a common theme throughout Scripture. Abraham was sent from his home to a new land, Moses was sent to Pharaoh to lead Israel from bondage, Jonah was sent to preach for the salvation of Nineveh. The list of Divine sendings is extensive, and they culminate in the sending of the apostles, first in today’s Gospel, then in the Great Commission. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, to the close of the age. (Matt. 28:19-20) There are many different angles to look at this sending—for our sanctification, for our participation in the communion of the Holy Spirit and of the Saints which God calls us to, for the salvation of the world, for the renewal of fallen creation. What I would like to touch, just for a moment, is the nature of what it means to be sent. For someone to send you, they must have the power to do so—authority, either by will or coercion, to compel you to go.

There was famously a rebellion in Heaven, before the creation of the universe. The angels who were made were presented the will of God, and Satan and his third pronounced the dreadful non serviam which sent them from the Father. Our first ancestors acted out the non serviam of the heart when they chose what they perceived as desirable over the will of God. Yet, despite this rebellion, we still see in the ministry of our Lord that He has the power to compel the demons—He drives them out, commands them, and they obey. It is not willing obedience, but they are compelled, coerced by the ultimate authority of God Himself. St. James writes that even the demons believe, and they shudder. (Jas. 2:19) To the counter, Christ says if you love Me, you will keep My commandments. (John 14:15)

In our modern culture of “critical thinking,” which often simply means demeaning, it is the order of the day to grumble and only begrudgingly follow what we dislike—or even flaunt the rules outright. It is considered the American spirit of individualism to govern one’s own way and decide one’s own path; however, we are given a faith of discipleship, of which St. Benedict writes the labor of obedience will bring you back to him from whom you had drifted through the sloth of disobedience. (RB Prol:2) We find, studying the Scriptures and saints, that it is our will which most desperately needs rebirth. The will of the Devil brought him low, the will of our ancestors rent all creation, and it is the will which Christ’s ministry, death, and resurrection are oriented to repair.

Do I obey God because I love Him or because I feel coerced? Do I grumble because the Church has rules for the Sacraments that I must abide by? Do I try to skirt the edges, do the bare minimum, and get by without putting in the work of obedience? Do I even go so far as to bend the truth, cast blame, or lie when I fail in my obligations to the faith? Do I respond to the presence of Christ with the full gift of myself, offered as a living sacrifice? Or do I begrudgingly present the answer of the demoniac, What have you to do with us, O Son of God? Have you come here to torment us before the time?

14th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

Sun, 07 Jul 2024 12:00:07 GMT

Love Will Keep Us Together

For those of us of a certain age, you will recall the pretty cheesy song from the 70s, “Love Will Keep Us Together” by The Captain and Tenille. It was one of those catchy tunes you heard first thing in the morning, and you couldn’t get out of your head the rest of the day. (I know some of you can’t help humming it right now!)

A few weeks ago, OLG had the privilege of hosting our new bishop’s first Confirmation liturgy. It was a beautiful, bi-lingual Mass followed by a wonderful reception hosted by the Women’s Club ministry. I was touched by the energy and warmth in the room as our diverse congregation gathered to celebrate the occasion. It was “love in action”.

My question is what motivates us to love and serve? How do we live with the filial love Jesus calls us to as His followers rather than the often self-seeking love of the world?

I’d like to quote from a classic daily devotional, “Divine Intimacy” by Father Gabriel of St. Mary Magellan.

The attitude we take in our spiritual life depends greatly on the idea we have of God. If we have a poor, impoverished concept of God, like the slothful servant in the Gospel (Mt. 25:14-30), instead of being impelled to love Him and to give ourselves generously to His service, we can be cold, indolent, calculating, and burying the talent we have received from the Master, we shall not trouble ourselves to use for God the benefits we have received from Him. Unfortunately, many Christians live this kind of life; they serve Him like slaves, and if they do not commit sin, it is only though fear of being punished; if they pray or perform some good work, it is for their own personal interests and is devoid of generosity and love. When, on the other hand, our soul begins to understand that “Deus caritas est”, God is charity (1 John 4:8), when we penetrate even slightly the mystery of the infinite love that surrounds us, realizing God’s love in the love which Jesus has for us, then everything changes spontaneously, because “love calls to love.”

Let our loving response to God reflect the conviction that Jesus came to save us all, but He would have come for even just you if you were the only one needing rescue. Faced with that kind of love, we can do nothing else than give Him everything, pouring ourselves out for His purposes, His kingdom. What better way to spend all we have (our talents, money, time, attention, devotion) than to invest in the eternal rather than the things of this world which are passing away? The degree with which we love is equal to how much we believe we are loved by God. Once you accept His love on His terms, His lavish, overwhelming, all-forgiving love, there is no other response than one more favorite old hymn: ”I Surrender All.”

13th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

Sun, 30 Jun 2024 12:00:00 GMT

Lauda Sion

His own act, at supper seated

Christ ordain'd to be repeated

In His memory divine;

Wherefore now, with adoration,

We, the host of our salvation,

Consecrate from bread and wine.

Hear, what holy Church maintaineth,

That the bread its substance changeth

Into Flesh, the wine to Blood.

Doth it pass thy comprehending?

Faith, the law of sight transcending

Leaps to things not understood.

Here beneath these signs are hidden

Priceless things, to sense forbidden,

Signs, not things, are all we see.

Flesh from bread, and Blood from wine,

Yet is Christ in either sign,

All entire, confessed to be.

They, who of Him here partake,

Sever not, nor rend, nor break:

But, entire, their Lord receive.

Whether one or thousands eat:

All receive the self-same meat:

Nor the less for others leave.

Both the wicked and the good

Eat of this celestial Food:

But with ends how opposite!

Here 'tis life: and there 'tis death:

The same, yet issuing to each

In a difference infinite.

Nor a single doubt retain,

When they break the Host in twain,

But that in each part remains

What was in the whole before.

12th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

ljohnson@olgchurch.org (Landon Johnson) — Sun, 23 Jun 2024 12:00:02 GMT

Devotion to the Sacred Heart - Week 4

June is the month of the Sacred Heart--it is absolutely no shock that the Enemy wants to claim it so ravenously. Rather than acknowledging the assertions of the demonic and attending to the demonstrations of depravity, let us instead acknowledge the Heart which so loves men and attend to the eternal sacrifice on which the world spits its contempt. We were all of us “born this way,” and so the Master calls us to be reborn. Allow me to offer a prayer of devotion to the Sacred Heart, and each week this month will have a meditation on a line of the prayer.

_____

O Sacred Heart, burning with love, consume me with Thy flame. Test all my deeds and burn up whatever is unworthy of Thee. My Jesus, leave nothing but what is precious to Thee.

O Sacred Heart, encircled by thorns, bind me fast to Thee. Make me slave to Thy Passion, but with Thy thorns rather than chains-that, mercifully, to leave Thee might prick deeper than to remain.

O Sacred Heart, pierced with a lance, pierce me through with Thee. Rend my own heart as Thine--that all grace Thou givest may, by this broken vessel, pour freely into all the world.

O Sacred Heart of Jesus, I place all my trust in Thee. (x3)

_____

O Sacred Heart of Jesus, I place all my trust in Thee. To trust is to have no qualm, no reservation, to surrender apprehension fully and freely. We trust for all that we hope—for eternal life, not to be abandoned in death, to be burned, bound, and pierced. How trying is such trust! How can we ever hope to attain such strength to surrender so fully? Our Lord does not command us to go where He is not, rather He calls us to where He is. He bids us follow the path He has walked and promises the life we have witnessed Him attain. Love Himself bids us obey in love (Jn 14:15).

The burning Love which purifies our vices is also the water of Life more sweet than the drop begged for by the rich (Luke 16:24). The binding thorns which tear our flesh rend the decay of sin from our bones that He might call them to new life (Ezek 37). The piercing lance which opens our heart carries with it the blood of the eternal font which wells up within us to life everlasting (Jn 4:14).

The labor of obedience will bring you back to him from whom you had drifted through the sloth of disobedience. This message of mine is for you, then, if you are ready to give up your own will, once and for all, and armed with the strong and noble weapons of obedience to do battle for the true King, Christ the Lord. (RB Prologue:2-3) Let us pray, in total abandon to that Love beyond all telling,

O Sacred Heart of Jesus, I place all my trust in Thee.

11th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

ljohnson@olgchurch.org (Landon Johnson) — Sun, 16 Jun 2024 12:00:03 GMT

Devotion to the Sacred Heart - Week 3

_____

O Sacred Heart, burning with love, consume me with Thy flame. Test all my deeds and burn up whatever is unworthy of Thee. My Jesus, leave nothing but what is precious to Thee.

O Sacred Heart, encircled by thorns, bind me fast to Thee. Make me slave to Thy Passion, but with Thy thorns rather than chains-that, mercifully, to leave Thee might prick deeper than to remain.

O Sacred Heart, pierced with a lance, pierce me through with Thee. Rend my own heart as Thine--that all grace Thou givest may, by this broken vessel, pour freely into all the world.

O Sacred Heart of Jesus, I place all my trust in Thee. (x3)

_____

O Sacred Heart, pierced with a lance. The mysterious journey which Christ began accepting His crown of death concluded as He was “lifted up,” just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, “so that everyone who believes in Him,” all of us, bitten by the ancient serpent with the death of original sin, “may have eternal life.” (Num 21:9; John 3:14) As Christ breathed His last, He uttered the words rendered by St. Jerome: consummatum est.

St. Augustine refers to the cross as the marriage bed by which is begotten the church. St. Paul tells us that this same church is wed to Christ (Eph 5:31-32), reinforcing this imagery. The act of this piercing pours out on the earth the two most precious elements of life—the water of baptism and the blood of the Eucharist. To heed His call, to take up your cross and follow (Matt 16:24), is not simply to accept the bondage of the thorns, but to be pressed hand to hand with those pierced hands. The lance which pierced His side, fetching the sweetest fruit of life from the True Vine, must also pierce us the same. To be remade into His image is to be one with all His sufferings, even His death.

What use has a vessel tightly closed up? The blood which was poured for you must be given an avenue to enter, the walls of the coffin of your heart must be pierced so that life may flow in! But entrance only is not enough—lest, like the wicked servant (Matt 18), we should not recompense the debts owed us as our Master has recompensed our own. Receiving this life, you are no longer your own, for you have been bought with a price. (1 Cor 6:19-20) So let us then pray, pierce me through with Thee. Rend my own heart as Thine—that all grace Thou givest may, by this broken vessel, pour freely into all the world.

10th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

ljohnson@olgchurch.org (Landon Johnson) — Sun, 09 Jun 2024 12:00:02 GMT

Devotion to the Sacred Heart - Week 2

_____

O Sacred Heart, burning with love, consume me with Thy flame. Test all my deeds and burn up whatever is unworthy of Thee. My Jesus, leave nothing but what is precious to Thee.

O Sacred Heart, encircled by thorns, bind me fast to Thee. Make me slave to Thy Passion, but with Thy thorns rather than chains-that, mercifully, to leave Thee might prick deeper than to remain.

O Sacred Heart, pierced with a lance, pierce me through with Thee. Rend my own heart as Thine--that all grace Thou givest may, by this broken vessel, pour freely into all the world.

O Sacred Heart of Jesus, I place all my trust in Thee. (x3)

_____

O Sacred Heart, encircled by thorns. The thorns of His crown contrast with the resplendent gold of monarchs, reinforcing His claim that His kingdom is not of this world. The kings of the earth display their glory and power to secure allegiance and dissuade would be conquerors. The throne of Christ, though, is the cross. Through suffering, His heart was made perfect (Heb 5:9), and by His wounds we are also made perfect. Though Calvary was the road, it began with the crowning—His annunciation of His lordship over pain and death. Just as He took flesh to elevate us, so was He crowned to elevate death itself, becoming firstborn of the dead (Col 1:18).

St. Paul writes that we are born slaves of sin (Rom 6:20) and that we become slaves of Christ by the price of His blood that He paid for us (Rom 6:22). This slavery, though, is a willing slavery—accepting the mark of ownership rather than resenting it. The chain which binds the slave is our honor to accept, for we are unworthy even of His yoke and burden (Matt 11:30). Rather than the chains of servitude, we should ask to be bound by the thorns of His crown, that the thistles which drew His sacred blood might commingle our blood with His and we might, in that binding, be bound body to body and blood to blood. Even in this, our wanton hearts sometimes become weary and seek relief. By this binding we find that to pull against this sweet captivity is to drive more deeply the thorns, and by our unwillingness we become even more deeply commingled to His passion.

For such grace beyond our comprehension, that we may walk the road of death that is become Life, we pray, bind me fast to Thee. Make me slave to Thy passion, but with Thy thorns rather than chains—that, mercifully, to leave Thee might prick deeper than to remain.

Domine Iesu Christe, Fili Dei, miserere mei, peccatoris.

Corpus Christi 2024

ljohnson@olgchurch.org (Landon Johnson) — Sun, 02 Jun 2024 12:00:03 GMT

Devotion to the Sacred Heart - Week 1

_____

O Sacred Heart, burning with love, consume me with Thy flame. Test all my deeds and burn up whatever is unworthy of Thee. My Jesus, leave nothing but what is precious to Thee.

O Sacred Heart, encircled by thorns, bind me fast to Thee. Make me slave to Thy Passion, but with Thy thorns rather than chains-that, mercifully, to leave Thee might prick deeper than to remain.

O Sacred Heart, pierced with a lance, pierce me through with Thee. Rend my own heart as Thine--that all grace Thou givest may, by this broken vessel, pour freely into all the world.

O Sacred Heart of Jesus, I place all my trust in Thee. (x3)

_____

O Sacred Heart, burning with love. Fire is an oft-used image in Scripture to refer to God. And I will put this third into the fire, and refine them as one refines silver, and test them as gold is tested. (Zech 13:9) But who can endure the day of his coming, and who can stand when he appears? For he is like a refiner’s fire and like fuller’s soap. (Mal 3:2) If anyone’s work is burned up, he will suffer loss, though he himself will be saved, but only as through fire. (1 Cor 3:15)

The presence of God is depicted with such intense holiness that the attendants of His throne, the Seraphim, are called quite literally, the Burning Ones . Into this fire we are cast as we shed our mortality and enter eternity. The fire cleanses and purifies us, as St. Paul says, so that all that is unworthy is burned up, and what is built on the solid foundation of the work of Christ is preserved. The love of Christ burns with this same intensity, this Heart which so loves men, bearing the eternal flame of love beyond all telling.

What are we if we refuse to surrender to His consuming love? Who are we to eschew the new birth of this unyielding eternal light? Knowing by His revelation what the future holds, let us surrender now, of free volition, to that tender intensity and receive that white-hot purity with open arms. Let us pray, consume me with Thy flame. Test all my deeds and burn up whatever is unworthy of Thee. My Jesus, leave nothing but what is precious to Thee , for what is precious at all save that which is precious to Love Himself?

Most Holy Trinity 2024

ljohnson@olgchurch.org (Landon Johnson) — Sun, 26 May 2024 12:00:00 GMT

The Precious Body and the Sacred Heart

The only Son of God wanted to have us share his divinity, and therefore he took our nature to himself; by becoming man, he would make humanity divine. Furthermore, what he took of our nature he gave back to us for our salvation. He offered his body on the altar of the Cross as Victim to reconcile us to the Father, and he shed his blood as a ransom and a cleansing bath. Liberated thereby from a wretched slavery, we are also cleansed of our sins.

In order that the memory of this great gift might remain ever fresh among us, he left his Body as our food, his Blood as our drink, to be consumed under the outward appearances of bread and wine.

What a priceless and marvelous banquet! So salutary and filled with sweetness! What could be more precious? Nothing! For here our food is not the flesh of calves and goats, as under the old Law, but Christ himself, true God. What, then, could be more marvelous than such a sacrament?

No other sacrament is more salutary, since here sinfulness is purged away, virtue increased, and the soul enriched with spiritual gifts. The Eucharist is offered in the Church for the living and the dead. Thus, what was meant for the salvation of all may indeed profit all.

Finally, the sweetness contained in this sacrament is beyond words. Here we taste the spiritual delight at its source, as we recall the boundless love Christ showed us in his Passion. To keep the faithful ever aware of that immense love, Christ instituted this sacrament at the Last Supper, when, after celebrating the Passover with his disciples, he was on the point of passing from this world to the Father. It was to be a permanent reminder of his Passion and the fulfillment of all the ancient foreshadowings. It was his greatest miracle and an extraordinary consolation for those saddened by his absence.

- St. Thomas Aquinas, Reflections on the Feast of Corpus Christi, Opusculum 57

Today we celebrate the Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity, as we proceed toward Corpus Christi and the Month of the Sacred Heart. I think it is important to note that progression: the Holy Trinity--the identity of God from whom comes identity. Corpus Christi--the sacrifice of the Body for our redemption from sin. The Sacred Heart--the embodiment of our Lord’s Passion, His burning love, His crown of thorns, and His pierced side.

Our Enemy reviles and attacks each of these things, and our culture is rife with the destruction he has wrought. We, the Church, are the bulwark against that darkness, and we must mark these precepts and carry them with us against that tide.

The Enemy attacks the identity which flows from the Creator by claiming that we determine our own identity, and can identify as we choose or feel. The Enemy attacks the sacrifice of the Body by claiming that we are sovereign over our bodies--”my body, my choice,” and we can alter them as we choose because there is nothing to redeem. The Enemy attacks the Passion of the Sacred Heart by claiming the entire month for disordered love against His sacrificial love, depraved indulgence against His willing suffering, and unyielding self interest against the living blood and water given through His piercing.

Draw close to Him, for it is only in the total gift of ourselves that we counter the ravenous darkness. To “reclaim the month,” we must make of it an offering, pure and holy, before the throne of the Most High.

Pentecost 2024

ljohnson@olgchurch.org (Landon Johnson) — Sun, 19 May 2024 12:00:00 GMT

Confirmation and the Gift of the Apostles

Pentecost is the day when we celebrate the coming of the Holy Spirit with fire, setting the hearts of the Apostles and the Blessed Mother ablaze in prayer and making a spectacular display to all the world of the power of God in His Church. It is also the day when Catholics are brought into full communion with the body of the Church through the Sacrament of Confirmation. This Sacrament, in which the Bishop, as the successor of the Apostles, invokes the Holy Spirit for the Confirmandi, however does not derive its root directly from Pentecost. In John’s Gospel, chapter twenty, our Lord appeared to the twelve in a locked room. He said to them, Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you. He then breathed on them and said, Receive the Holy Spirit. Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and whose sins you retain are retained.

The breath that He breathed hearkens to the Old Testament, when God breathed on the dust He had fashioned and made it man. His life is in His breath, and when God first breathed, He gave man his soul. When God breathes here, He gives man something far greater than placing a soul into a being of dust. He places His own Spirit into a creature. The Holy Spirit comes softly here, in the silence of a breath, but what He brings is true power: power over sin. Christ stated in His great commission, All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to Me. Here, He gives His authority, bought by the Cross and claimed in the Resurrection, to His apostles. It is not visible like at Pentecost, but the authority and power that He gives is greater than signs and wonders.

The Bishops of the Church are the successors of these Apostles, consecrated by consecrated hands and carrying that same authority bestowed by Christ. They bring Him with their very presence, and they give Him as He gave Himself. In their breath and the touch of their hands we receive the Holy Spirit. Through their words and their touch, the host becomes the Bread of Life. In persona Christi the Apostles continue the work of Christ, and through faith we receive the Spirit and the Body, brought in the Sacraments. Cherish that soft touch of the Spirit, the sweet aroma of your chrism like the incense which are your faithful prayers offered before the throne of the Most High. Taste the simple bread and relish the sweetness of the life-giving Christ who makes Himself a banquet for your soul. The gentle hand of Christ, extended through His Apostles, is the mercy of the Father—and the promise of the eternal Pentecostal fire, not of damnation, but the fire of Love beyond all telling which burns without consuming in the Sacred Heart of Love Himself.

Ascension of the Lord 2024

Sun, 12 May 2024 12:00:01 GMT

You Are What You Eat

I am sure you have heard the saying over the years, “you are what you eat.” I learned the truth of this the hard way. A few years ago, I had a calcium heart scan and was told I was in the ninety-eighth percentile to have a massive heart attack. With three of my four arteries almost completely blocked I was given two options: surgery, with a series of stints put in, or a change to my diet to try and reverse the issue. My wonderful wife was in the room when I got the news, so a drastic change in diet became our first choice. Over the next fourteen months of a strict Vegan diet, I lost forty-five pounds and was able to completely alleviate my heart condition. My bloodwork showed I transformed my metabolism to that of an eight-year-old! (One last note about going Vegan: you only give up two things when you change to a Vegan diet—taste and happiness! But it worked!)

As we celebrate the great feast of Corpus Christi, let us consider the possible effects of a worthy reception of the Eucharist. A recent survey of US Catholics revealed the sad fact that only thirty-one percent believe in the true Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of Jesus present in the Eucharist. On that basis, it makes me wonder what the other sixty-nine percent think they are receiving when they approach the altar. Do they consider the consecrated bread simply bread prayed over to make it “special,” but not having any supernatural characteristics? Is it, as most of our Protestant brethren believe, just a symbol of a communal meal that bonds the congregation together? This is clearly not what Jesus says in John 6 when many of those listening turned away from following Him after they heard His very emphatic words about He Himself as the true Bread of Life.

So how about us? Do we leave room for not only the natural experience of the Bread and Wine, but the supernatural communion of our souls with the Soul and Divinity of Jesus in His Body and Blood? Do we come with an expectation to be supernaturally transformed? Are we surrendering to the work of His Spirit and the Will of the Father? Jesus left us His Body and Blood, the Bread of Angels, as Heavenly sustenance for our earthly journey and, I think, as a comfort of His True Presence with us. Much like a Groom not wanting to leave His bride, Jesus wanted to stay with His church until His triumphant return.

Countless Eucharistic miracles, where the host actually turns to human flesh, have revealed a consistent fact. When analyzed, the consecrated host all test as actual human heart tissue. The host has truly become Jesus’ Sacred Heart! Jesus wants us to literally feed on His Sacred Heart and transform us through true intimate communion with Him. Our DNA, our metabolism can actually be joined with Jesus and changed to be more like Him! We become walking tabernacles of His Presence, temples of His Holy Spirit and instruments in His hands to heal and comfort those around us. All this can happen if we bring our faith to the altar, ready to receive Jesus as He intended.

If you have ever gone to Eucharistic Adoration, what do you think you are looking at? And just as importantly, what do you think Jesus sees as He looks back at us? Does He see true worshipers happy to spend time with their Lord?

So, bring your faith to the altar. Become what you consume! Be changed more and more into His hands and feet to serve those around you. Let Jesus make this cliché come to life, ”You are what you eat.” May it be so for all of us.

6th Sunday of Easter 2024

Sun, 05 May 2024 12:00:00 GMT

Commentary on John, Treatise 65

The Lord Jesus says that he gives his disciples a new commandment: love one another. yet was this commandment not already part of the Old Law: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself”? Why, then, does the Lord call it new when it is clearly old? It is new because we have put off our old self and put on a new self? Yes, for the one who hears, or rather the one who heeds, is made new, not by every love indeed, but by the love which the Lord distinguishes from fleshly love by adding: “as I have loved you.”

This love makes us new people--heirs of the new covenant and singers of a new song. This love, dear brothers and sisters, renewed the righteous ones, the patriarchs, and the prophets of old, as it later did the Apostles. It now renews the nations, and out of the world-wide human race it gathers and forms a new people, the Body of the new Spouse of God’s Son; of her the Song of Songs says: “Who is this that comes robed in white?” Robed in white, because renewed; how renewed, except by the new commandment?

For this reason the members of the Body are solicitous for one another. If one suffers, all suffer together; if one is glorified, all rejoice. Folr they hear and heed the words: “I give you a new commandment, to love one another”--not as sinful lovers do, nor as people do because they are human, but as thosed do who are gods and children of the Most High, brothers and sisters to the one Son, loving each other as he loves them. He will bring them all to the fulfillment of their desires, for nothing shall be lacking where God is all in all.

He bestows this love upon us: “As I have loved you, so may you love one another.” He loves us that we may love one another; by loving us he unites us all in love. Sweet indeed are the bonds that bring us together as members of so glorious a Head.

5th Sunday of Easter 2024

Sun, 28 Apr 2024 12:00:04 GMT

An Inconvenient Truth

I’ve been driving around these past few weeks seeing many church signs announcing “He is Risen!”. It’s a great thing to see, but I’m wondering—do we truly realize what that means? Jesus’ resurrection is the most significant event in human history. As we continue to move through the Easter season, I wonder—how well are we spreading this good news?

The one thing we all share and most dread is death. Before Jesus’ resurrection, all humans wondered and some speculated about what happens after we die. Religions and philosophies created many possible theories. Do we just die and go into nothingness? Some thought we might go through the life process again and again until we reach some version of perfection (reincarnation). Others believed in an afterlife, but offered any kind of a positive reward for only a select few; but, Jesus and His Father had another idea.

Jesus beat death—the one thing we all face at some point! Now we no longer have to fear it and wonder about what happens next. His promise for those who truly follow Him as disciples is clear: eternal life with Him, the Father and the Spirit. Are you truly excited about this good news? Jesus is alive! Salvation is now available to anyone and everyone who surrenders to Jesus’ offer to love and serve Him and reap the reward of eternal life—He guarantees it by His resurrection! That is the good news for His obedient and faithful followers and an inconvenient truth to others.

Former Vice President Al Gore published a book a few years ago, An Inconvenient Truth , addressing the threat of climate change. That controversial book talked about the inevitability of a catastrophic threat to earth itself unless drastic measures were taken to mitigate the human effect on the global ecosystem. It garnered a lot of attention and, to a great extent, spurred on the climate change movement. Regardless of how you feel about the supposed facts and premise of the book, it was effective in raising public awareness and elevating the debate. However, it was mostly bad news about what might happen to the earth.

We have the good and better news for the inevitable event (death) in all our futures. Because Jesus defeated death, we too can face it with confidence that, as promised, He has gone ahead and prepared a place for us. Death is our “graduation day,” our walking through a doorway to an eternal life worth looking forward to. That is a message worth shouting from the rooftops and placing on signs in front of churches!

There are many, however, who even after hearing the good news choose not to follow Jesus. They try to ignore or even deny Him and His resurrection. They can ignore or deny His defeat of death, but they cannot refute it! If Jesus was put on trial for being guilty of rising from the dead, He would be convicted. Hundreds of eyewitnesses saw Him for forty days after He rose. His disciples and especially apostles endured torture and death rather than deny what they knew to be true. Nothing could make them deny the fact of seeing Jesus resurrected.

So, as we share the Easter message, be confident, be bold, be fearless in bringing the good news to a world desperately in need of a Savior. We know the real “Inconvenient Truth,” Jesus rose from the dead and He’s coming back some day to claim His own. Those of us who know Him can’t wait for that day. Maranatha!

4th Sunday of Easter 2024

ljohnson@olgchurch.org (Landon Johnson) — Sun, 21 Apr 2024 12:00:04 GMT

The Good Shepherd

I am the good shepherd. For the Jewish teachers who spent their lives praying the Psalms, much like our priests do today, these words would have carried an impact like that which caused the Jews who came to seize Him in the garden to fall back when He pronounced I AM . They knew well the Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. No one of His audience would have misunderstood His claim. He then explains further, what makes Him the good shepherd is that He lays His life down for His sheep. He identifies His flock, not as a hired hand, but as one who possesses the flock. Only the Lord can claim such ownership.

He reveals the meaning behind what the Psalmist penned so very many years before. There is no better treatment than the words of Christ Himself, so I will simply lay them out and let Him speak for Himself.

The Lord is my shepherd.

I am the good shepherd.

He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul.

A good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me;

A hired man, who is not a shepherd and whose sheep are not his own, sees a wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away.

Your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

I am the good shepherd, and I know mine and mine know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I will lay down my life for my sheep.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;

This is why the Father loves me, because I lay down my life in order to take it up again.

My cup overflows.

[This is the chalice of My Blood, the Blood of the new and eternal Covenant, which will be poured out for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins.]

Christ’s ministry is, in a sense, a thesis for His fulfillment of the covenant. He provides us with citation and argument both in His life and teachings which call back perfectly to the anticipations of the prophets. It should not surprise us, though, when we see the nous of our Lord so deeply woven into historic Israel. After all, He was there all along. St. John instructs in the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. Through Him all things were made, and without Him was nothing made that was made. His humanity was taken from Mary, but His body is united in the hypostatic union to His Divinity, and possesses the fullness of His eternal nature. When He ascended, He ascended to the Father, who is outside of time. As I consider the good shepherd, who leads His sheep through the valley of the shadow of death, allow me a moment of speculation.

When Adam fell, which valley was more shadowed by that great death than Eden? God walked in that garden—but the Father has no body and does not walk, and no one has seen Him. But our Lord has an eternal body. Christ tells us that He seeks His sheep when they stray, and will leave the many to pursue the one. When God walked into the shadowed garden to find His stray sheep, did He walk on feet that had already stumbled on Calvary’s hill? When He called out to Adam and pronounced the curse of sin, did He speak with the voice that had already pronounced Father forgive them, they know not what they do ? When He crafted clothes of skins to shelter them from their shame, did the hands that clothed that first lost man already bear the scars of his redemption?

3rd Sunday of Easter 2024

ljohnson@olgchurch.org (Landon Johnson) — Sun, 14 Apr 2024 12:00:04 GMT

The Author of Life

The author of life you put to death. St. Peter’s words in the first reading are some of the most haunting ever spoken—they interpret the words of our Lord, This is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil. I want to note the order of operations there, men loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil. St. Thomas Aquinas writes that sin darkens the intellect, because sin is the darkness which is opposed to the light, and so when the will is given to the darkness of sin, the intellect becomes blinded by that darkness. Our Lord said if you love Me, you will obey My commandments and St. John echoes If any one says, “I love God,” and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen, cannot love God whom he has not seen. Venerable Fulton Sheen said that if we do not do as we believe, we will begin to believe as we do. St. James writes faith without works is dead.

Our Lord has given us a religion of the correct application of the Law—we are to do the works of God with a glad heart. Obey, serve, work, love. These works are the medicine by which God heals the heart wounded by sin and renews the life that has been choked by darkness. Faith alone does not profit us, because the work of renewal is not accomplished—but similarly, the works alone do not profit us, because we make Pharisees of ourselves, and fare no better. The greatest commandment, Christ says, is to love God with all your being, and then to love your neighbor. The great commission is to go and make disciples, bringing the love of God to your neighbor. The great judgment, then, comes from the opposite: to reject the light of God, and to bring darkness and death to your neighbor.

Can I be patient and kind? Am I jealous or boastful? Do I tend toward arrogance or rudeness? Do I insist on my own way? Am I irritable or resentful? Do I enjoy when someone I dislike gets hurt? Am I resentful when someone succeeds where I did not? St. Paul’s words are not just a pleasant sentiment for wedding readings, but an examination of conscience—and a test of discipleship. If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, if I have prophetic powers and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, if I have all faith so as to remove mountains, if I give away all I have and deliver my body to be burned, but have not love, I am nothing. The foremost call of Christ is to heroic virtue, to subject my passions to reason, reason to faith, and my very being to God. He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; like a lamb to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth.

Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of profaning the body and blood of the Lord. Let a man examine himself, and so eat of the bread and drink of the cup. Do I take the sacraments without love? Do I receive the Lord without giving myself to my neighbor? Do I neglect the opportunity to serve? Do I bless those who curse me and pray for those who persecute me? Do I see those before me as anything but an obstacle? O God, have mercy that these words might live in my heart. Make my heart burn while you speak to me. Help me crucify the sinful Adam, so that I might rise with You on the last day and not be condemned to death, for I put to death the author of life.

Divine Mercy Sunday 2024

Sun, 07 Apr 2024 12:00:00 GMT

Glory to Jesus Christ, in His Heart overflowing with Merciful Love!

+ JMJ + ETM +

God died. Have you ever wrestled with that? The very fact that the Creator of the entire universe became one of us so that He could show us how to live, suffer, and die, and go back Home, after defeating sin and death. Alleluia! He chose this way, because He is Mercy and Love. “The message of the Cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God…for the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength.” (1 Corinthians 1:18-25)

Friends, as we celebrate this Divine Mercy Sunday, the final day of the Octave of Easter, we reflect on Jesus’ appearance to His disciples after the Resurrection, when Thomas is absent. Do you notice, then, what Thomas says? "Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger into the nailmarks and put my hand into his side, I will not believe." (John 20:19-31) After the scandal of the Cross, can you imagine the heaviness of the apostles’ hearts before seeing Jesus Risen? Even though the other apostles have seen Our Resurrected Lord, Thomas doubts. Yet he asks about Our Lord’s wounds. After His Resurrection, Jesus could have appeared in His glory without His Most Precious Wounds. But do you see the beauty in this encounter? When Jesus appears again, and Thomas is present, Jesus already knows about Thomas’ statement and invites him into His Sacred Wounds. And so He invites us. We have not seen, yet we believe in the “power and wisdom of God.” “We proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles.” (1 Corinthians 1:23-24) And now, in His grandeur and strength, He is Risen, yet still bearing His Precious Wounds, so that we might come to Him with ours. This is what Divine Mercy Sunday is all about…

In the words of Father Mike Schmitz, from his homily on Divine Mercy Sunday in 2020, “When strength and security is gone, mercy is given. Mercy is the love that we don’t deserve. It is the love that God wants to give us the most.” He shows us that He desires to give us this very love, namely, merciful love , as He invites us to share in His precious Cross. We all bear wounds. Some visible, some invisible. Jesus sees them all. If we would, but bring them to Him, bring them to Light Himself, He would delight to heal us. “God proves His love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:8) This is the love given which we do not deserve. This is Divine Mercy.

On this Divine Mercy Sunday, I encourage us all to reflect on the ways the Divine Physician has healed us, and give Him thanks and glory! And perhaps there are still places in the depths of our hearts which are aching to be healed…Jesus does not turn away from these wounds, these hurts, these broken places. He comes to restore, to heal, to bring back to life! The Wounded Healer delights to heal. When the strength and security of walls we have built come down, He can enter into this vulnerability and work wonders. “In my deepest wound I saw Your glory, and it dazzled me.” (Saint Augustine)

“Do not be afraid; just have faith.” (Mark 5:36)

Many times we want to bring to Jesus the best of the best, all of the good things we do and are, which comes from a good place (to offer the King of Kings our very best!). However, when we bring to Jesus our littleness, brokenness, sinfulness, woundedness, and poverty, His Divine Mercy can act, for he “did not come to call the righteous, but sinners.” (Luke 5:32) Saint Elizabeth of the Trinity, in her letter, Let Yourself be Loved , says this, “He rejoices to build up in you by His love and for His glory, and it is He alone who wants to work in you, even though you will have done nothing to attract this grace except that which a creature can do: works of sin and misery…He loves you like that. He loves you “more than these.”” Saint Elizabeth knew well the merciful love of God, and so she wrote this letter near the end of her life to Mother Germaine, her prioress. It is such a simple statement, yet it is all-encompassing, “let yourself be loved.”

Let us then bring ourselves, as we are in fact , before the Divine Physician, Who is Mercy and Love, and let ourselves be loved by Him. Let us not be afraid that our wounds are any hindrance to Him, but rather the means by which He can draw even closer to us. Let us then love Him in return, with His own love, which He so readily gives to those open to receive it, and share this love, share Him, with a world in desperate need…the world which He “so loved.” (John 3:16)

Oh Blood and Water which gushed forth from the Heart of Jesus, as a fount of Mercy for us, I trust in You! (Divine Mercy Chaplet)

“...within Your Wounds, hide me.” ( Anima Christi )

Easter Sunday 2024

ljohnson@olgchurch.org (Landon Johnson) — Sun, 31 Mar 2024 12:00:00 GMT

The Night shall be as Bright as Day

Easter—the night of which it is written the night shall be as bright as day , when Christ broke the prison bars of death, and the Father reconciled the world to Himself through the death and resurrection of His Son. Note that last, it is not merely through the resurrection that the world was reconciled to the Father, but the death and resurrection . Another look at death, you may ask, why must Catholics be so morbid? Why the skulls and memento mori-s and penance and crucifixes? Isn’t there enough death in the world already? Why can’t we just focus on the resurrection part? At the conclusion of Lent and at the hour of Easter, I think it’s important to attend to these questions.

I won’t belabor any points by repeating what we’ve previously discussed—the Lord’s call to take up our crosses and follow Him, to die to ourselves daily, to obey His commandments. Nor will I linger on the Good Shepherd who entered into our valley of darkness in order that He may commiserate with us and lead us out from it. Neither of these, though important, touch the very soul of those questions— why do we linger so on the subject of death? Why, indeed, would the Living God inspire the Psalmist to pen such words as precious in the eyes of the Lord is the death of His saints? Why would the great Physician who heals wounds give His saints painful stigmata and call them blessings? Why would He intentionally let His friend Lazarus, whom John comments explicitly whom He loved , undergo death from illness? Why would His apostle St. Paul write count it all joy when you experience trials of many kinds ?

Is this a Divine sadism? An expectation that we should be masochists and revel in pain? Quite the contrary—and the answer is found in His very character. When the world experiences pain, its first instinct is to flee from it. To shrink back, to recoil, to run. Pain is intolerable, and the world wants to escape it. There are so many means of escape—vacations, creature comforts, sensual pleasures, indulgent foods, spas, drugs, the list goes on and on. Each thing billed as a way to escape the pain, to leave behind the creeping existential dread that lurks beneath the surface of the shiny cars and idyllic ads. There is always another solution when the efficacy of the prior wanes and a stronger drug when we adapt to the weaker. But Christ did not escape. When He rose from the grave, He did not flee death— He conquered it .

Christ put on flesh so that flesh would be part of Himself. He suffered so that suffering would be His. He died so that He could claim death. He made all things new. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all men to myself . On the cross, He staked His claim on death, and in doing so claimed all of us who lived in death—so that in the Resurrection we might rise with Him as well. As yet, we wait here in this valley of tears, groaning inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies . But as we wait, running the race, keeping the faith , we must continue to follow Him, crosses shouldered. He says, you are my friends if you do what I command you . A friend is one with whom we share our inner selves. I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you. He shares His resurrection with His friend Lazarus. He shares His wounds with Padre Pio (and possibly St. Paul, the mysterious thorn in his side ). He shares His cross with all who follow Him—because He shows us that even suffering and death are not things to be fled, but to be embraced, because He has taken them unto Himself and transformed them into joy and life.

How sweet is the mercy of Christ, for He has made all things new. How deeply He loves, for He took even suffering unto Himself so that He might sanctify our wounds, fill them with life, bless them, and bestow upon us all that is good. He has turned the blood of martyrs to glittering white robes, and the thorny crown of suffering into a resplendent crown of eternal glory. The night shall be as bright as day.

Palm Sunday 2024

ljohnson@olgchurch.org (Landon Johnson) — Sun, 24 Mar 2024 12:00:00 GMT

Logos

In today’s Gospel, we see the institution narrative of the Eucharist and the Passion as told by Mark. For the last three weeks, we’ve been hearing the account of John’s Gospel, so why the change? Famously, John’s Gospel is the only of the four that does not contain the institution of the Eucharist. For a Gospel as focused on the Divinity of Christ and Sacramentality of His ministry as John’s, this seems odd. Why would he omit one of the singular most important moments of Christ’s ministry, when He instituted the Sacrament that is the source and summit of our faith? The answer, I believe, is that he didn’t. He covered all of the important elements in chapter six, when he told the multiplying of fish and loaves and the Bread of Life discourse.

We know the discourse well enough, and we use it to demonstrate the importance of the Eucharist. If you do not eat My body and drink My blood, you have no life in you. But we miss an important element from the beginning of the chapter, the miracle of multiplication. We know that we preserve ourselves by eating—when we eat something, we take its matter into ourselves, and by the processes of the body, we destroy that matter and assimilate it. It ceases to be itself and instead becomes a part of us. What we see in this miracle, though, is something different. Scripture does not tell us the mechanism by which Christ performed the multiplication, we are told that He blessed the bread and broke it and began to distribute it and the bread never ran out. On the surface, we see a similarity to the Eucharist here, because we know that, as St. Thomas Aquinas teaches, every particle of the Eucharist contains the fullness of the body, blood, soul, and divinity of Christ. From the fraction of the host to the distribution, each person receives his fill of the entirety of Christ in each morsel that is distributed.

There is, however, an important element here that can be easily missed. Where we receive in the eating, and we destroy the object to make it a part of us, Christ does not. By simply holding the bread in His hand, He imparts something of Himself to it. His soul informs the bread that it is now more than it is, and He assimilates it without destruction. In the multiplication, the bread receives a glimmer of His infinite Divinity, and it expands to overflowing, filling everyone present with baskets left over. In the Eucharist, it receives so much more—for His soul enters the very bread, leaving its likeness the same, but filling it with the totality of Himself. The Creed teaches us that the Son proceeds from the Father, and the prologue of John’s Gospel explains it. The Word was with God in the beginning, and through Him all things were made. The Word— Logos —is a metaphor, because a word is what we use to convey something that is in our mind to another mind.

Christ is more than a mere word, He is the Living Word, the mind of God made flesh, the fullness of the Father resides in Him, the perfect expression of Himself—and so we say the Son proceeds from the Father. Likewise, the Eucharist is the procession of the Son. From the Son proceeds the fullness of His body, blood, soul, and divinity, which resides in the elements of bread and wine for us to consume and assimilate into ourselves. The Father speaks Himself and all of Creation issues forth. The Son speaks Himself and the Life issues forth, informing the bread of its new nature, and drawing us to Himself. Just as the bread becomes His body without changing its outward attributes, so we become His body while retaining our uniqueness.

The Eucharist itself is a prefigurement of His mystical body, and His mystical body is a prefigurement of the perfect unity of the communion of the Saints in eternity with Him. Even the communion of the Saints is yet a symbol of the unity of the Trinity, which contains three distinct Persons in one totally united Divine Essence. Through the Son’s procession from the Father, all things are made, and through the Sacrament’s procession from the Son, all things are made new. We see another glimmer of this when Christ appeared to His apostles in the upper room following His resurrection. John records yet another small detail of infinite importance. When He told them receive the Holy Spirit , John tells us, He breathed on them . When else did God breathe? When He breathed on dust and made it man. The breath of God gave life to dust and made it man, and again the breath of God gives life to man and makes him God. Through His Word, He gives us Life; through His breath, He gives us Spirit; and through His death, He reconciles the world to Himself—so that by being raised up, He draws all men to Himself, assimilating without destruction, and glorifying by grace and truth all who follow Him.

On the night of that Last Supper,

Seated with His chosen band,

He, the Paschal Victim eating,

First fulfills the Law’s command;

Then as Food to all His brethren

Gives Himself with His own Hand.

Word-made-Flesh, the bread of nature

By His Word to Flesh He turns;

Wine into His Blood He changes:

What though sense no change discerns.

Only be the heart in earnest,

Faith her lesson quickly learns.

-St. Thomas Aquinas, Pange Lingua Gloriosi

5th Sunday of Lent 2024

ljohnson@olgchurch.org (Landon Johnson) — Sun, 17 Mar 2024 12:00:00 GMT

The Eleventh Station

Jesus is nailed to the Cross

The Cross is laid on the ground, and Jesus stretched upon it, and then, swaying heavily to and fro, it is, after much exertion, jerked into the hole ready to receive it. Or, as others think, it is set up-right, and Jesus is raised up and fastened to it. As the savage executioners drive in the huge nails, He offers Himself to the Eternal Father, as a ransom for the world. The blows are struck—the blood gushes forth.

Yes, they set up the Cross on high, and they placed a ladder against it, and, having stripped Him of His garments, made Him mount. With His hands feebly grasping its sides and cross-woods, and His feet slowly, uncertainly, with much effort, with many slips, mounting up, the soldiers propped Him on each side, or He would have fallen. When He reached the projection where His sacred feet were to be, He turned round with sweet modesty and gentleness towards the fierce rabble, stretching out His arms, as if He would embrace them. Then He lovingly placed the backs of His hands close against the transverse beam, waiting for the executioners to come with their sharp nails and heavy hammers to dig into the palms of His hands, and to fasten them securely to the wood. There He hung, a perplexity to the multitude, a terror to evil spirits, the wonder, the awe, yet the joy, the adoration of the Holy Angels.

-St. John Henry Newman

The Nail

Though day sun crept on barren hill, no warmth of light could break night’s chill

A son would do his father’s will—

Momentous work to soon complete.

From the road arose a clamor, women’s cries and soldiers’ banter,

Rough-hewn wood and Roman banner,

A march of death on weary feet.

The calls of crowds pursued the men up that hill and delighted when

The time had come for flesh to rend—

For blood, the sport they came to meet.

The watchmen marked the hour three as broken men were laid on trees,

And in that great cacophany

Amidst the wails and jeering shrieks,

The shrillest sound did pierce the veil—a hammer strike on single nail,

Unknowingly, the hand impaled

Had lit the stars and shaped the sea.

Then silence took the very air as time itself suspended there,

The universe was made aware—

By that first nail was pierced He.

For in that gasp of time and space which spread across creation’s face,

Eternal hand touched finite place

And fix’d the nail which pins the earth to God.

-Landon Johnson

4th Sunday of Lent 2024

ljohnson@olgchurch.org (Landon Johnson) — Sun, 10 Mar 2024 14:36:20 GMT

Loving Darkness or Light

Last week’s Gospel told of the cleansing of the Temple, and last week’s reflection discussed Christ’s healing of wounds. This week’s readings focus on the wounds of sin—the voluntary wounds we inflict on ourselves through disobedience. In the prologue of St. Benedict’s Rule, he writes, the labor of obedience will bring you back to him from whom you had drifted through the sloth of disobedience. (RB Prologue:2) And so we bring together many threads we’ve discussed since the beginning of Lent. The sloth of our disobedience, the disordered attachments which govern our lives—these are a spiritual cancer that eats at us inside. C.S. Lewis remarks, God has not been trying an experiment on my faith or love in order to find out their quality. He knew it already. It was I who didn’t. In this trial He makes us occupy the dock, the witness box, and the bench all at once. He always knew that my temple was a house of cards. His only way of making me realize the fact was to knock it down. ( A Grief Observed ) The purpose of Lent is to bring us to a place of spiritual poverty, to realize the darkness that we love, as Christ’s haunting words in today’s Gospel portend, so that we can abandon it and come to the light. If a man were dying of cancer and pleaded with his surgeon not to cut it out, we would rightly call this man a lunatic for preferring death to salvation; but how often do we plead with God to let alone the cancers killing us—not temporally, but eternally?

I have often wondered about the things that happen in Lent—we know that Lent is a penitential season, and many of us know that the rules for this season were, at one point, much more severe than they are currently. Lent was conceived as a forty day season of fasting in imitation of Christ’s forty days in the wilderness. Today we fast on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday, and the year long abstention from meat on Fridays is relegated only to the four Fridays of Lent (at least in the US). We all recognize that Lent is a time of spiritual warfare—the Enemy hates the coming of Easter and the new births of those to be baptized, and so he strikes out at us in retaliation. I am left with two thoughts: first, I wonder if perhaps the wisdom of the Lenten fast was found in counter-attacking the Enemy’s Lenten furor—meeting the arrows of Satan with the weapons of obedience, penance, and prayer. Second, I wonder if, because God wants us to do battle with the Enemy in the Lenten wilderness, since we have to such a degree put down our swords, He is now allowing the Enemy to strike us harder to impel us to the penance we have neglected on our own.

Do not mistake me, this is not a critique of the Church and her authority to govern the faithful. This is a critique of our own selves, and our continual habit of doing only the bare minimum we are prescribed and not an ounce more. A meat abstinence on the Fridays of Lent barely has the time for the novelty to wear off—but continued in perpetuity, how often might we actually find that it is a sacrifice not to indulge in a burger or pizza after a hard week at work? Or go out with friends and have to eat light because of lack of available food? Fasting at the start and end of Lent may make us hungry, but fasting throughout makes us truly learn what dependence on God in adversity looks like. The Church knows that a light weight carried a long distance becomes heavy, but we—faced with choice rather than compulsion—have largely decided not to carry it at all. Discipline is the keystone of obedience, and obedience is the path that leads us from darkness to light. Let us not prefer our darkness, lest the verdict of the Just Judge be our condemnation.

Our Daily Bread

Tue, 05 Mar 2024 14:54:27 GMT

The super-essential Word and the Divine Essence

In the Gospel according to Saint Matthew Chapter six, Jesus teaches His Disciples how to pray, giving them what is known in Sacred Tradition as The Lord’s Prayer. One of the petitions in the Lord’s Prayer is for Our Father to “give us this day our daily bread” [Matthew 6:11]. The word translated “daily” in this passage is the Greek word epiousios. The same word is used by Saint Luke when he records this event in Luke 11.

Epiousios is a word pregnant with meaning, and, in many respects, daily is an insufficient translation. “Daily” seems to communicate asking the Father for food that is sufficient to nourish us simply for today. While this is a wonderful thing for which to pray, the meaning of epiousios goes far beyond food simply for the day.

Epiousios comes from the combination of two Greek words: Epi, which means “super” and ousia, which means “essence, nature, or substance.” Given this meaning, the Church suggests translating it as “super-essential.” The Catechism of the Catholic Church paragraph 2837 has this to say about epiousios.

“Taken literally (epi-ousios: “super-essential”) . . . refers directly to the Bread of Life, the Body of Christ, the ‘medicine of immortality,’ without which we have no life within us.”

Thus, the Catechism connects the “daily bread” for which we pray with the Eucharist, which is our “medicine of immortality”. It, the Body of Christ . . . Christ Himself, is the one thing we need, for it is in and through communion with Christ in the Eucharist that we have union with God. The Eucharist is “super-essential” because it cleanses us and affects our oneness with God and, as a result, our oneness with one another. God makes the bread of our oblation into the Body and Blood of Christ Himself, and by partaking of the Body and Blood of Christ we then become the Church, the Body of Christ on earth. God makes the Eucharist and the Eucharist makes the Church.

Interestingly, the word that the Gospel writers use to describe this Bread (ousia) was taken up by the Fathers at the Council of Nicea in their fight against Arianism. Named after its creator, Arius, Arianism taught Jesus Christ to be a created being. In other words, Jesus was not “True God of True God,” nor was He eternal. In Arius’s understanding there was a “time” when Jesus did not exist.

To combat this teaching, the Fathers of Nicea wrote the first two parts of what has become known as the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed. We recite this Creed at Mass, professing Jesus Christ to be “True God of True God . . . consubstantial with the Father.” Consubstantial is translated from two Greek words: homo (one) and the same word used to describe the Eucharist . . . ousia (essence, nature, or substance).

This is a profound connection. In the Lord’s prayer we ask for our “epi-ousia” (super-essential bread) and the Fathers of the Church have described the very oneness that Christ has with the Father as being “homo-ousia” (of one essence). Could this connection between the daily bread we need (epi-ousia) and Christ’s connection with the Father (homo-ousia) be simply a coincidence? Personally, I highly doubt it, for it is through our unity with Christ, affected by the “epi-ousia’ given to us by God that we become one with God, and this Oneness with God is only possible because of Christ’s “homo-ousia” with God the Father!

Praise be to God that the Fathers of the Council truly knew what they were doing when they fought against the Arian heresy. They were most certainly guided by the Holy Spirit as a Council, for if Christ is not God, then our salvation is not possible. It is only because Christ is one in nature/essence with the Father that He can unite us to God.

Originally published at Darrell's Thoughts and Reflections

3rd Sunday of Lent 2024

Thu, 29 Feb 2024 19:24:59 GMT

Scars

I have two physical scars. The first came from some stupidity from my 12-year-old uncle entrusted with watching 5-year-old me. At one point he thought it would be funny to lock em out of the house. Everything was fine until I decided to put my hand through the small glass window on the back door! He struggled to stop the bleeding coming from multiple cuts on my right hand. And he definitely had some explaining to do when my parents got home! I carry a lifelong half inch scar on my right index finger as a reminder.

My second scar was no accident. That was the work of a surgeon to remove my thyroid after having been diagnosed with cancer in 2006. The scar is barely noticeable, but it's there. The surgery and subsequent treatment were successful and, as I write this 18 years later, I'm cancer free.

Those are my visible scars. They each tell a story, one of the poor judgment of an uncle and the other of a medical success. As I look back at those scars, they say something else. I can either look back with criticism for my stupid uncle's poor judgment, and question "why me?" as to why and how I got cancer at age 47, or I can look at the healing associated with each one. My cancer scar especially tells me the story of my general practitioner who wisely noticed something different during my annual physical. His experience and wisdom had me see an endocrinologist within days and a diagnosis within a week. Caught early, the cancer was no problem. The scar reminds me of the successful treatment and recovery, not the question of "why me who got cancer?"

But what about the unseen scars we all carry? The rejection or abuse or criticism from a parent or coach or teacher that fuels that voice in our head telling us we're no good and will never measure up? Those scars come from deep wounds. But wounds of this kinda are exactly what Jesus came to heal. That's the thing about wounds. They can be cared for and healed, yet still leave a scar as a remembrance of the wound but without the ongoing effects.

The wounds we still carry, however, are things we need to bring to Jesus. So many people in the gospels sought Him out to heal their wounds. They brought their brokenness and asked Him to touch them and bring healing and wholeness where there used to be suffering and pain.

Lent is the perfect time to bring our brokenness to Jesus and ask to be healed. Stop carrying those old wounds and the negative effects that come with them--both the wounds you received and those you caused yourself through your own sinfulness and disobedience. Silence those voices in your head and replace it with the promises of a Savior and a Loving Father. As the wounds heal and the scars appear, let them remind you of the powerful healing and be filled with gratitude for your deliverance from the hurt. Embrace your new identity as one who has shed the lies of the past and replace it with one who walks in emotional and psychological health.

So, as you walk through this Lent, surrender your wounds and believe that Jesus has healed you--and get ready for a joyous Easter celebration of a new and abundant life.

2nd Sunday of Lent 2024

ljohnson@olgchurch.org (Landon Johnson) — Thu, 29 Feb 2024 19:11:06 GMT

The Transfiguration

In today’s Gospel, we see the striking miracle of the Transfiguration. Peter, James, and John are allowed to see Christ in a glimpse of His glory, radiant like the sun and speaking with the Patriarchs—saints of the Old Covenant. There are many aspects of this miracle that have been expounded upon by the Church over the millennia, but the one I would like to focus on today is the aspect of transformation. The past few weeks, we have discussed several transformations—the transformation of the Old Covenant to the New, the transformation of the heart by obeying Christ. This theme of transformation runs through the heart of the Gospel, and is seen intently in the weeks of Lent. Jesus rejected the temptation to turn stones into bread, quoting that man shall not live by bread alone, but by the Word that proceeds from the mouth of God.

At the Last Supper, He would transform bread alone into the Flesh of the Word to be the Life of the World. At the Transfiguration, we see the Word that was made Flesh allow His flesh to shine with the Divinity that it was elevated to in the Hypostatic Union. In the words of St. John Chrysostom, God became man so that man could become God. In the Transfiguration, we see the God-Man in the splendor of both His natures.

In the narrative of Christ, we see a prophecy and an archetype of His Church—His Body, as noted in the selected reflections from last week. Christ left the splendor of heaven to become man, putting on humble flesh and the likeness of sin, that He could then rise from that ancient death to the resplendent glory of resurrection. Similarly, man fell from paradise, leaving Eden by the choice of sin, and lay in wait of his Savior who would raise him back up on the last day of resurrection.

The Transfiguration is the promise of the splendor that awaits beyond the ascension—the hearth where the fallen silver petals of Eden are smelted into the Divine gold of the eternal throne.

O what bestirs the heart of simple man?

A longing that transcends the years which pass—

a spectre of a dream once lost in sin,

a shadow as glimps’d dimly through a glass.

The memory of Eden, silver dew

which runs from gilded leaves of paradise,

hath now forsaken earth it should renew

and turned to tears which mar that valley’s face.

O what despair! To lose the face of God—

to walk where angels tread and lose thy way!

O rend thy cloak, thou ashen man and bid

thy broken soul to bend itself and pray!

For only by the nailed and blood-stained door

Might spoiled Eden yield to gold splendor.

1st Sunday of Lent 2024

ljohnson@olgchurch.org (Landon Johnson) — Thu, 29 Feb 2024 19:04:32 GMT

Meditations on the Cross

Christ’s possession, his inheritance, his Body, that is, the one Church which we all form, cries out to God from the

ends of the earth: O God, hear my cry; listen to my prayer.

Why does Christ’s Body thus cry out? Because my heart is troubled. The Body everywhere shows that it is not glorified but greatly tempted. Indeed, our life as pilgrims cannot be free of temptation, for it is through temptation that we advance. None know themselves if they have not been tempted, nor can they be crowned unless they conquer, or conquer unless they struggle, or struggle unless they meet the enemy and be attacked.

Christ’s Body cries out in torment from the ends of the earth, but it is not left alone. For he foreshadowed us, his Body, in his own earthly body in which he died and rose and ascended into heaven, so that where he the Head has gone before, we his members may be sure of following.

He therefore transformed our lot in his own person when he willed to be tempted by Satan. In Christ we were indeed tempted, for as Christ accepted flesh from us and gave us salvation in return, accepted death from us and gave us life, accepted insults from us and gave us honor, so too he accepted temptation as one of us and gave us the victory.

If we were tempted in his person, in him we also overcame Satan. Pay heed, then, to Christ’s victory no less than to his temptation. Recognize that we were tempted in him, but recognize too that we conquered in him. He could have simply fended off the devil; but if he had not been tempted, he could not teach us how to overcome temptation.

-St. Augustine, Commentary on the Psalms , On Ps 60:2-3

Jesus falls the first time beneath the Cross

Jesus, bowed down under the weight and the length of the unwieldy Cross, which trailed after Him, slowly sets forth on His way, amid the mockeries and insults of the crowd. His agony in the Garden itself was sufficient to exhaust Him; but it was only the first of a multitude of sufferings. He sets off with His whole heart, but His limbs fail Him, and He falls.

Yes, it is as I feared. Jesus, the strong and mighty Lord, has found for the moment our sins stronger than Himself. He falls--yet He bore the load for a while; He tottered, but He bore up and walked onwards. What, then, made Him give way? I say, I repeat, it is an intimation and a memory to thee, O my soul, of they falling back into mortal sin. I

repented of the sins of my youth, and went on well for a time; but at length a new temptation came, when I was off my guard, and I suddenly fell away. Then all my good habits seemed to go at once; they were like a garment which is stripped off, so quickly and utterly did grace depart from me. And at that moment I looked at my Lord, and lo! He had fallen down, and I covered my face with my hands and remained in a state of great confusion.

-St. John Henry Newman, Stations of the Cross

6th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

ljohnson@olgchurch.org (Landon Johnson) — Thu, 29 Feb 2024 18:56:46 GMT

Faith of the Leper

In today’s readings, we see a sharp contrast between the first reading and the Gospel. In Leviticus, the Lord instructs that lepers be kept separate—cast out from amongst the people for their horrible disease for which there was no cure. Then, Mark’s gospel relates the story of Jesus healing a leper. It was striking to people of that time that the leper was made clean. As is highlighted by the reading from Leviticus, leprosy was basically seen as a death sentence. If you contracted it, you were cast out and lived as an outcast until it eventually claimed your life. It was like a terminal cancer disappearing—except far more visible because of the horrible, rotting, stinking nature of leprous flesh. It is poignant to notice that, even in the face of this death sentence, the leper came to Jesus saying, “If you wish, you can make me clean.” He had faith in the impossible, and it was rewarded. The impact it had was exemplified because as the man told people about Jesus’ healing, it was impossible for Jesus to enter a town openly. He had to remain in deserted places and yet people still flocked to him. This was a miracle of great impact.

The selection of these readings serve two purposes: first, the obvious—to underscore the significance of Jesus’ ministry. They give us a picture, as we discussed, of why the work Jesus did had the impact that it did in the world of the time. The second, perhaps less obvious, but even more significant—to demonstrate how the coming of the God-Man made all things new. The old order was passing away because the Word had been made flesh. The dominion of sin was breaking, and the guilt of Adam was being cleansed from creation. The old Adam gave way to the New, the Covenant of the old Ark was subsumed as the New Ark brought forth the New Covenant. The prescriptions of the Law delivered to those under the bondage of sin and death were fulfilled and transformed by the Blood of the Lawgiver. The leper was a symbol of this old death—the unrelenting rot of sin. Christ’s healing of this leper was a prophecy of His victory over that ancient rot, just as His transformation of the water to wine at Cana was a prophecy of His transformation of water to rebirth and wine to His Blood.

Do you have the faith of the leper, the faith that expects the impossible? Jesus explained to us what that type of faith means: If anyone would come after Me, he must daily die to himself, take up his cross, and follow Me. If he loves Me, he will obey My commandments. The faith that expects the impossible is the faith that heeds His mother: Do whatever He tells you. The faith that expects the impossible is the faith of Abraham, who traveled hundreds of miles on foot with his family and waited for decades for God to fulfill His promise, and still had the faith to offer his only son when God asked it of him. The faith that finds the narrow way is the faith that St. Paul mentions in the second reading: that does everything for God’s glory and loves its neighbor, even when it finds that person distasteful. If you can love the person who cuts you off in traffic, who scratches your car in a parking lot and leaves, who takes your lunch from the break room fridge; if you can obey the Church when her priests make you angry, when they are careless with liturgy, when they live unfit lives, when they close the doors and bar the sacraments; if you can bear these crosses for love of God—He will heal the leprosy of your soul, and He will show you how He worked your faith within you to accomplish it.

5th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

Thu, 29 Feb 2024 18:44:17 GMT

Stewardship

Stewardship is as old as time. It started in the garden of Eden. After creating the first family, Adam and Eve, God gave them their first job--He made them caretakers (stewards) of all of creation. They were to care for all the plants and animals God created. Our first parents were in charge of all the resources God gave them.

After the fall and sin entered the world, what began was a series of events that moved the people of God further and further away from an intimate, personal relationship with Him. God initiated a series of covenants or promises

between Him and His chosen people. Abraham’s covenant with God established a tribe, Moses’ a nation, and David’s a kingdom. With each covenant, the people seemed to move away from knowing and serving God and instead setting a more formal, yet distant, relationship. A series of prophets emerged always calling God’s people back to a committed relationship, but often Israel ignored their prophets and went their own way. Eventually God stopped sending even prophets to reach His people.

Then, after centuries of silence, Jesus came. He came to save us from our sins and reestablish the family relationship we lost in the garden of Eden. The revolutionary idea of seeing God as our Father (Abba or Papa in Aramaic and Hebrew) scandalized many in Israel. They were content to keep God at a comfortable distance. They were content to simply engage in formal religious practice rather than respond to the invitation and the demands of a dynamic, loving relationship; but, that is what Jesus calls us to--an intimate relationship with Him, God our Father, and the Holy Spirit.

When you love someone, you don’t try to figure out, “What’s the least I can do to maintain this relationship?” No, you seek ways to deepen the connection and give more of yourself. Certainly, Jesus did not think of us that way when He came to save us. He didn’t think, ‘What’s the least I can do to save my people?” He instead gave everything,

the last drop of His precious blood to bring us back to a family relationship with God.

So, what’s our response to such a generous, lavish love? Do we calculate the least we can do to keep God happy, to earn a place in heaven? If so, what does that say about our love for God? Is it simply a like a bad marriage with a series of “quid pro quo” transactions?

When God calls us to love Him, He doesn’t want a portion of your heart. He doesn’t want us to do the minimum to keep Him satisfied. He doesn’t ask for a tithe of you, ten percent of your time, money and use of the gifts He’s given you. No, He wants one hundred percent of all of us and all He’s given us--not because it makes Him any greater, but because it draws us into right relationship with Him. He invites us to think how we spend our time, financial resources, and abilities. Once we reexamine all that we have through this lens, we realize that it all belongs to Him and giving it all back to Him is for our own good.

In Luke 8:8 and again in Mark 10:30, Jesus talked about sowing good seed and producing a rich harvest a hundredfold over. We are invited to surrender all we are, all we have, back to Him and receive in return a hundredfold. Not a financial return, but a return of brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers as part of the family of God.

So, what is stewardship? It is the opportunity to give all we are, and all we have, back to God and watch what He does with it. An invitation to hold nothing back and imitate Jesus--Who gave all He had to save us and make us children of the Father, a family once again.

There is a sleeping giant at Our Lady of Grace, and it’s not the priests on the altar--it’s us sitting in the pews! Once we “get in the game” and give God everything, just watch what He does with willing hearts to bring new life to His kingdom in Greensboro!

4th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

ljohnson@olgchurch.org (Landon Johnson) — Thu, 29 Feb 2024 18:29:02 GMT

Feast of St. Thomas Aquinas

Fear is such a powerful emotion for humans that when we allow it to take us over, it drives compassion right out of our hearts. — St. Thomas Aquinas

On this feast of St. Thomas Aquinas, let us remember not only the towering intellect which gave us such understanding of Christ that the Savior Himself appeared to St. Thomas to commend his writing. Let us also remember the heart which so loved God that he never abandoned his simple and awe-filled reverence for our Eucharistic Lord—for St. Thomas could not have contemplated the enormity of God in His creation if he could not first contemplate the humility of God Who poured His immensity into bread for us. As St. John writes in his first epistle, There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love. We love because He first loved us. If anyone says, “I love God,” and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen.

All the powerful intellect, the immensity of theological knowledge, the eloquence of Aquinas could not have made him the Angelic Doctor—for Satan surely masters him in all these categories, being of perfect intellect and knowledge and possessing the eloquence of the Master of Deceit and Father of Lies. What makes Aquinas is his simple obedience, his love of brother, and his love of God. In face of all the facts of the evils of this world and its seemingly insurmountable depravity—St. Thomas, in simple love of Christ, undertook the labors of facing that daunting challenge and illuminating it with the light of Christ. The world rules by fear—the only remedy is the purity of love; fear preys on the insecurity of self—love subordinates self into the security of the Beloved. Let us reflect on St. Thomas, then, as the man whose love illumined the darkness through his intellect, driven by a will fueled by the simple, humble love expressed in his Eucharistic hymns:

Godhead here in hiding, whom I do adore,

Masked by these bare shadows, shape and nothing more,

See, Lord, at thy service low lies here a heart

Lost, all lost in wonder at the God Thou art.

Seeing, touching, tasting are in Thee deceived:

How says trusty hearing? That shall be believed;

What God's Son has told me, take for truth I do;

Truth himself speaks truly, else is nothing true.

On the cross Thy Godhead made no sign to men,

Here Thy very manhood steals from human ken:

Both are my confession, both are my belief,

And I pray the prayer of the dying thief.

I am not like Thomas, wounds I cannot see,

But can plainly call thee Lord and God as he;

Let me to a deeper faith daily nearer move,

Daily give me harder hope and a dearer love.

O Thou our reminder of Christ crucified,

Living Bread, the life of us for whom He dearly died,

Lend this life to me then: feed and feast my mind,

There be Thou the sweetness man was meant to find.

Bring the tender tale true of the Pelican;

Bathe me, Jesu Lord, in what Thy bosom ran---

Blood, whereof a single drop has all pow’r to win

All the world forgiveness of its world of sin.

Jesu, Whom mine eye doth meet shrouded here below,

I beseech Thee, sendeth what I thirst for so,

Some day to gaze upon Thee face to face in light

And be blest for ever with Thy glory's sight.

Amen.

3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

ljohnson@olgchurch.org (Landon Johnson) — Thu, 29 Feb 2024 18:23:36 GMT

Salvation

When I was young, I remember a contention in the evangelical community in which I was raised. I’m sure that it hasn’t changed, because it came from the theological positions of different denominations—the argument whether one can lose his salvation. Much emphasis is put on “getting saved,” a singular moment in which one makes a conscious decision to give his life to God and accept Christ, and after that whether your salvation is guaranteed no matter what you do, “once saved, always saved” as they say in Baptist circles, or whether you can walk away and lose that salvation. Catholics, I was told by contrast, have no assurance of salvation, because the Catholic Church teaches that you’re saved by your works and not faith alone. The irony that strikes me now, in retrospect, is that in the face of that coveted assurance of salvation there could be so much debate over whether or not one is actually saved.

The truth is, since entering the Catholic Church, I don’t think much about whether or not I am saved. The word saved seems almost odd in the context of what I have learned about Scripture and the teachings of our Lord. It no longer carries the connotations it once did. Saving us is what Christ does, but it is not an event that happens to us, not a ticket we receive and put in our pocket for the day the train arrives. The readings today highlight the teaching of the Church on salvation: in the first, God spares Nineveh because the people repented. They turned from their wickedness and did penance, fasting and putting on sackcloth. The second reading extols us to change our every behavior and depart from what the world is doing, because we know that the world as it seems is passing away. The Gospel tells us that at the call of our Lord, “Repent and believe in the gospel,” the disciples abandoned their nets and followed Him.

Jesus commissioned the apostles to go and make disciples. He told them that if anyone would come after Him, they must die to themselves, daily take up their crosses, and follow Him. He says the way to life is narrow and few find it. He teaches an active, transforming faith—not simply a matter of belief, but of belief that transforms us into something completely new, a rebirth. Faith without works is dead, as St. James writes, but not because we earn salvation by works—because the works of faith change us inside, and by His grace, make us worthy of His promises. The Eucharist, Confession, Baptism, Confirmation, the Corporal Works of Mercy, Charity, Prayer—all these acts are channels of grace by which He rejuvenates a soul that is dead in sin and fills it with new and abundant life. They make us into beings transformed by the renewing of our minds and capable of love of neighbor, which is the path to love of God.

Merciful Father, You sent us Your beloved Son as both perfect sacrifice and perfect example. Help me to obey Him, to take up my cross, and die to myself in emulation of Him. Give me strength to pour out my suffering to ease the suffering of others, to pour out my affluence so that others may be fed, to pour out my care so others may find aid, to pour out my health so that others may be made whole. Let me be emptied of all things so that all I am may be filled with as much of the love of Christ as you give me grace to contain, that I may have that much more to give.

2nd Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

ljohnson@olgchurch.org (Landon Johnson) — Thu, 29 Feb 2024 17:05:05 GMT

How Must It Be?

How must it be, o man of men, to gaze upon that lake?

The scent of creeping evening breeze?

How must it seem to breathe and taste

Mingling salts of sweat and seas?

How must it feel at end of days

When labors' cost leaves body spent--

Aching arms earned honest wage

And stiffened back o'er fire is bent?

How must it be, o meekest man,

To patiently thy hunger sate?

A simple fish o'er flame prepared--

All afforded to thee partake.

How must it feel for calloused hands

To draw thy roughspun tunic close

Against the cold, as darkness falls,

Which poignant thought will grip thee most?

Is it the somber cloak thou wear?

The rope-burned hands from evening's catch?

Or is't thy reflection in that lake--

The face of God in humble flesh?

Pax et Bonum

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