As soon as I was old enough, my parents would put me in charge of watching my two younger siblings when they would go out. If they didn’t listen to me, I would put them in time-out, which meant they were pretty much in time-out every time my parents went out. One day they decided that they wouldn’t listen to me anymore, so I called my parents because they were ganging up on me!

In today’s Gospel, Jesus tells a parable about a vineyard owner, who at harvest-time sends servants, and ultimately his son, to collect his produce from his tenants. The tenants did not accept them as representatives of the vineyard owner, and in disrespecting them, ultimately disrespected the vineyard owner, showing that they would rather be their own master.

Because my siblings did not respect my authority as the one my parents put in charge when they were gone, they did not respect my parents. They wanted to be in charge of themselves. The only problem was that my parents had not asked me to discipline my siblings; they had only asked me to keep an eye on them. In my own way, I was taking advantage of being put in charge, and trying just as much as my siblings to be a law unto myself.

Do we also reject the authority of God? Maybe we do this in outright ways by choosing to sin, but very often this happens in more subtle ways. We might feel a tug to pray but choose to watch TV instead. We might know that we need to reach out to that one person who really annoys us, but we instead choose to ignore them and talk to our friends. Or maybe there is one part of our life that we don’t want to surrender to Jesus yet because we don’t want to give that thing up yet.

Jesus ends the parable by saying, “The kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people that will produce its fruit.” He doesn’t do this as a master over a servant, but as a loving Father.

In John 15, Jesus calls Himself the True Vine, and us the branches. We can bear fruit if we abide in Him. Instead of desiring to be in charge of ourselves, we become so united with Jesus, the Vine, that our wills become one. We are no longer hired servants working for wages, but we simply want to do His will because we know this is what will make us truly happy, and because, as beloved children of the Father, we desire to return that love He has given us.

Unlike my siblings’ desire to do whatever they wanted when my parents were gone, or my desire to take over when they put me in charge, we are called to surrender to God. By doing this, we are able to bear fruit because we have united ourselves to the True Vine, Jesus Christ.

Father Frank

As someone who studied math, when I come across this Gospel, I think of the other possible sons that the man in the Gospel could have had. The first son says he will not work in the vineyard but changes his mind and works, while the second son says he will work but never actually does. Couldn’t the man have had a son that said yes to the father’s task and actually completed it? Wouldn’t that be a perfect son, like me? Or couldn’t the man have had a son that said no, and then didn’t complete his task? Wouldn’t that be a son who was completely depraved and separated? 

Of course, you could make up those possibilities, but Christ only puts two options in the story for a reason. Why? Well, none of us are perfect and none of us are completely depraved from God’s grace!  And yet, don’t we put ourselves and others in those categories all the time? 

How often do we try to pursue perfection, not only in our work and relationships, but also in our spiritual life? How many of us walk around thinking that nothing is wrong, and that everything is just fine?  It’s an allusion that usually moves from indifference to despair. Usually those who believe they are perfect eventually see their allusion crumble and end up falling into despair! It confirms what the prophet Ezekiel shares with us in our first reading: “Thus says the Lord: You say, ‘The LORD’s way is not fair!’ Hear now, house of Israel: Is it my way that is unfair, or rather, are not your ways unfair?” (Ezekiel 18:25) 

The Lord is not expecting us to be perfect, but to seek his mercy and love and to turn back to him when we fall. To live a life of conversion means that we can never stop turning back to him.  Let us not fall into this unfair way of thinking: where we feel either too perfect for the Lord, or too far from calling out to him in our failures.  Let us always trust that it is never too late to be redeemed by him. When we call out to him, the Lord will always respond!   

Father Michael

When I was about three years old, I was on vacation with my parents and grandparents, and we stopped at a McDonald’s. I was excited to explore the Play Place, so I decided to climb to one of the highest points, where there was a tunnel that crossed the entire Play Place. When I got to this tunnel, I looked out the window down at where my parents and grandparents were sitting, and I was too scared to move on. My mom saw this, so without thinking, she went into the Play Place, climbed all the way up to where I was frozen in fear, and brought me down safely to the ground. My grandparents would often tell me that story, reminding me, “Your mom climbed into the Play Place to get you.”

Today we celebrate the Feast of Our Lady of Mercy, the patronal feast of our parish. But what is mercy? Mercy is love when it comes in contact with evil. In the Old Testament, one of the words for mercy is rahamim. It refers to those strong feelings of tenderness and compassion that a mother has for her child.

This is also the kind of mercy that God has for us. When He sees us sunk in the misery of sin, He is not distant from us, but like my mom climbing into the Play Place, He rushes to rescue us. And He doesn’t just rescue us by sending someone else to take care of it, but He Himself becomes man and suffers and dies for us so that we can be with Him forever in Heaven.

At this moment of Redemption, Jesus gave us His mother to be our mother also. Just as Mary gave her “yes” to God at the Annunciation, she also gives her “yes” at the Foot of the Cross to God’s loving plan of salvation even though it means the death of her Son, showing mercy to the entire human race. And this “yes” does not end there, but she continues to show this mercy to all her children who call on her. The mercy she shows to us always paves the way for us to receive God’s mercy.

But for many of us, it can be very difficult to receive mercy because we feel unworthy, or because it is difficult to face our sins. But in spite of this, we need to be open to receive God’s mercy like little children because without it, we are helpless. A child does not do anything to earn the love of his or her parents, but simply receives it as a free gift. In the same way, we need to recognize our need for God’s mercy, to accept that mercy for the free gift that it is, and to thank God for it. Like my grandparents who reminded me that my mom climbed into the Play Place to get me, we can sing with Mary, “The Lord’s mercy is from age to age.”

Father Frank

There is a story about when St. Margaret Mary Alacoque, who received visions of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, spoke to a priest about her visions. The priest did not want either one of them to be deceived, so he told her that if Jesus appeared to her again, to ask Him one question. He told her to ask Him what the last mortal sin he confessed was. When Jesus appeared to her again, Margaret Mary asked Him the question, Jesus looked at her and said, “I don’t remember.”

Even though God knows everything, after He has forgiven our sins, it is as if that sin never happened. It is truly forgiven. Yet in the First Reading, it says, “The vengeful will suffer the LORD’s vengeance, for he remembers their sins in detail.” In order for us to be forgiven, we first need to forgive. This is what we pray in the Our Father: “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” If our hearts are not open to forgive others, how can they be open to receive forgiveness? 

But how do we forgive? We have to start with what forgiveness is not. It is not saying that what the other person did to us is okay. I think that because we think that this, we end up like the unforgiving servant trying to choke his fellow servant, saying, “Pay back what you owe.”

Instead, we need to acknowledge that what they did hurt us. Sr. Miriam James Heidland, SOLT, says that with Jesus, we even need to make an account of what that person did to hurt us. We do this, not to hold on to what they owe us, but instead to acknowledge the hurt we experienced. But as we do this, we also need to acknowledge that justice is most likely not possible on this earth. That other person might not even be aware that they hurt us or even be sorry.

Because justice is not possible on this earth, we know that God will bring about justice, if not in this life, in the next. Forgiveness is letting go of what they owe us, and instead giving that up to God, Who will bring about justice. Forgiveness is saying that I acknowledge that you hurt me, but I give that hurt, and you, to God.

If God forgives as if He forgets our sins, are we called to forget how that person has hurt us? The Catechism of the Catholic Church says, “It is not in our power not to feel or to forget an offense; but the heart that offers itself to the Holy Spirit turns injury into compassion and purifies the memory in transforming the hurt into intercession.” When we forgive, God can even transform those painful memories into sources of healing for us and the other person.

I also invite you to pray with this Forgiveness Meditation from Sister Miriam: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WTDWS6V3_Ow&t=393s

Father Frank

I remember when I was 12 years old, my dad turned 50 and my oldest sister decided to follow a rule that I believe she created: namely that every 50-year-old man needs a dog! Even though it was a gift for my dad, I had wanted a dog for a long time so you can imagine my joyful reaction. We named her Tippy, and she was a wonderful dog. 

It didn’t take me and the rest of the family too long to find out that the dog was a wonderful scapegoat.  I’m sure you have heard the line, “the dog ate my homework.”  Well for me it was perfect. Tippy made all the dishes dirty, Tippy made the room messy, and Tippy somehow left the toilet seat up! Tippy, as a joke, gave way for me to run away from any responsibility for my actions, and remove any need I had for correction.   

This idea of running away from responsibility and correction isn’t new. This blame game isn’t new, and in fact we see this in the story of Adam and Eve after the Fall. Eve blames the serpent, and Adam blames God!  

What is the Lord asking of us? Our Sunday readings point to the need for and importance of fraternal correction: “Jesus said to his disciples, ‘If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have won over your brother’” (Mt 18:15). We need to be willing to correct each other out of love. The Gospel gives us concrete steps by starting fraternal correction in private, then bringing it up with another person, and if that doesn’t work finally bringing it to the Church.   

To give fraternal correction is hard, especially with the conflict that it brings to light.  So where do we start? How do we grow in one of the most important aspects of our faith? I believe that we need to first begin by being open to correction ourselves. Let’s not jump to excuses and blame but accept in humility that we are not perfect, and that we need to change to grow closer to Christ and one another! Once we realize our own brokenness and need for correction, we are more likely to help our brothers and sisters- not out of judgment, but out of understanding and mercy in order to draw them to the Lord.  (And if that’s too hard, I guess you can always just get a dog!) 

Father Michael

I hate vocation stories…or at least I used to. I always struggle with the fact that so many of these stories, after dealing with the twists and turns of that person’s vocational journey, seemed to end with seminary as if it were the solution to all their problems. But I have to tell you that that is not the case, as I learned the hard way.

As I entered seminary, I believed that it would be like my past experiences of college, but when I tried to joke and be myself, it was badly received, so I pulled back and was quiet. I was told that my theology degree would help me get out of introductory classes, but I found myself fighting tooth and nail to prove that I knew anything. And an irrational fear of the human pillar of seminary formation—of being told I wasn’t human enough—was quickly realized in my first formation meeting. I felt like Jeremiah in the First Reading, who said, “You duped me, O LORD, and I let myself be duped.”

In a similar way, in the Gospel we heard last week, Peter has just heard that Jesus would “give [him] the keys to the kingdom of heaven.” But then in today’s Gospel, Jesus turns around and predicts His Passion, which seems to go completely counter to what Jesus had just said to him about the Kingdom of God. So it’s no wonder that he says, “God forbid, Lord! No such thing shall ever happen to you.”

As I continued through seminary, I continued to feel this heaviness, and whenever it became too overwhelming, I would find myself saying to myself: “I don’t want to be here.” The last time I preached, I talked about listening for God’s voice in the silence. But when we listen for God’s voice, there is the risk also of hearing our own or the enemy’s voice. When I brought the situation to my spiritual director, he very simply and bluntly said, “And whose voice do you think that is?”

When I was able to recognize that that voice was not from God, this did not remove the sufferings, but allowed me to see this as part of God’s Plan. Instead of being a passive participant in my life, I felt God calling me to take an active role in my spiritual life. Jesus tells us, “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.”

We are also called to take an active role in our spiritual lives, taking up the crosses that God allows to come into our lives. However, as we carry our crosses, we do not do this alone, but always following after Jesus. I don’t hate vocation stories anymore because I know that it’s only part of the story, that discerning our vocation is part of the Cross, but a Cross that ultimately leads to the Resurrection.

Father Frank

One of my favorite memories from my childhood was Saturday afternoons. After a busy morning of chores, we would spend the afternoon watching cooking shows. One of my favorites was Julia Child, and one of the episodes can teach us a spiritual lesson.  In the episode, while she was flipping a potato pancake, she flipped it a little too enthusiastically, so that it fell off the pan onto the stove. She then picked up the pancake, put it back in the pan, and looking directly at the camera, said, “Well, if you’re all alone in the kitchen, nobody will know.”

As we come to the end of August, many parents have already taken their kids to college, school is starting up, and a new year of ministry is beginning here at Our Lady of Mercy. As we do this, there is often a drive for perfection. Maybe we have high expectations for the year, or we have goals to make it even better than last year. But all too often, the year doesn’t turn out how we planned. And because of this, it can be tempting to give up.

The same can be true of our spiritual lives. Maybe we plan to pray every day, but get to the end of a busy day realizing that we forgot to do it. Or maybe we feel that every time we go to Confession, we confess the same sins. So what are we supposed to do? St. Benedict has a short but profound phrase that can serve as our motto: “Always we begin again.”

Sometimes we become so discouraged by the fact that we have messed up that we don’t want to try again. But the Bible tells us: “For a righteous man falls seven times, and rises again” (Proverbs 24:16). We can’t just let the potato pancake sit on the stove, but we need to pick it up again.

The ability to get up again does not come from a “pick yourself up by your bootstraps” kind of attitude, but rather an attitude of humility. Our desire to wallow in our mistake comes from a pride that says, “How could I have done this?” But in humility, we are called to come to Jesus—not just when we feel good about ourselves—but when we are at our lowest, we need to admit our mistake and allow Him to lift us up once again.

It is precisely in that moment of allowing Jesus to lift us up again that we begin to grow in holiness. It is then that we realize how much we need Jesus and learn to rely on Him. We need to remember St. Benedict’s phrase, “Always we begin again,” so that we don’t remain in our mistake, but, with Jesus’ help, start fresh, whether that means returning to the Sacrament of Confession, or picking a potato pancake up off the stove and putting it back in the pan.

Father Frank

Sometimes we come across a Gospel reading where we initially hear it and don’t know how to react!  This Sunday’s reading of Jesus initially rejecting the Canaanite woman is perhaps one of them. We may see Jesus’s treatment and response to her harsh and difficult to comprehend. Isn’t our faith in Jesus Christ based on his willingness to die for EVERYONE? Why does Jesus ignore this woman and then compare the Canaanite people to dogs? 

I’m sure there are various ways to approach this Gospel passage. One approach is to ask the question, “Could Jesus be testing the woman’s perseverance even in the midst of persecution, which is something the Apostles will eventually have to learn themselves?” I, however, would like to approach today’s Gospel with this main proposition about our own brokenness:  When God’s actions don’t match up with our will, we seem to always perceive God’s actions as harsh and questionable. 

Have you ever wanted God to act or respond to a problem in your life? And what happened when your prayers were not answered in the ways you wanted them to?  Did you throw a fit? (As I have done many times) Did you feel like God didn’t have a plan for you, let alone love you? 

Yet, what is clear throughout the Scriptures is that God loves all of us and desires to bring salvation, not only to the Israelites, but to all people (cf. 1 Tim 2:4). We fail in our perception of God’s plan in not understanding that God doesn’t always act the way we want Him to. We don’t see God’s greater picture of salvation. Jesus Christ came to fulfill the covenants (promises) given to the Israelites first, and then spread salvation to the whole world.  Hence Christ said, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel” (Matthew 15:24). And then after his death and resurrection he said, “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” (Matthew 28:16-20).  God’s plan from the very beginning was to bring all nations, including the Canaanite woman, into His Body the Church. Yet, in its proper time and way! 

Sometimes when God doesn’t act or respond the way we want Him too, we feel that God is harsh and unresponsive.  But what we need to realize is that the Lord’s love and plan is greater than our own.  He desires the good and salvation of all people, including you and me!  Let’s, yes, learn from the Canaanite woman in perseverance, but more importantly trust in the Lord when He doesn’t respond in the way we want Him too!  

Father Michael

In my junior year of college, I took part in a silent retreat for the first time. This retreat came at the perfect time in my life. For years, I had been thinking about priesthood, but as I got older, I pushed it to the back of my mind. So by the time I got to this retreat, I felt like I had no idea what direction to go.

The priest directing the retreat told us that the reason we were dedicating this time to silence was so that we could hear God’s voice. On the last day of the retreat, during a Holy Hour where I told God, “Lord, I’ve given you these two whole days of silence. Please tell me what my vocation is. I am open to anything.” Within a minute, I felt a voice say, “What about diocesan priesthood?”

In the First Reading, Elijah waits in a cave for God to pass by. There are many loud and flashy events that he could have mistaken for God, but it is only in the still, small voice that he recognizes God. For most of us, taking a silent retreat is not an option. But we can take moments of silence throughout our day to listen for the voice of God. Then, we will be better able to hear His voice and recognize where He is working in our lives. But this is just the beginning.

After I felt the voice on the retreat, I was so angry that I stormed out of the chapel (even though I had helped plan the retreat). And in the months that followed, I tried to pretend I hadn’t heard that voice.

In the Gospel, Peter also recognizes God passing by, and he asks Jesus to call him to walk on the water. But when he takes his eyes off Jesus because he is distracted by the wind, he begins to sink. So what do we do after we recognize the voice of God?

I came to a point where I realized that I was almost trying to live a double life, feeling in my heart that God was calling me to priesthood while trying to plot my own path. But when I followed my own path, I began to sink. It was only then that I began to rely on God, saying with Peter, “Lord, save me!”

We also need to allow the voice of God we hear in prayer to affect our lives. We all need to ask God: “How are You calling me to follow You?” Next week, we will have a ministry fair where we will have the opportunity to have a taste of the many wonderful ministries our parish offers and discern how God is calling us to serve Him. When we take time to recognize the still, small voice of God in the silence, then we are better able to follow Him even if it means following Him out onto the water.

Father Frank

“I got you!”… I know that it’s probably not the most grammatically correct saying out there. It might be better to say, “I have your back.” Nonetheless, these are the words that come to my mind as I reflect on the Transfiguration of Jesus in today’s Gospel: “I got you!” 

  The Transfiguration is the point where Jesus reveals to Peter, James, and John his divine nature, but also his kingly status. This harkens back to the first reading from the Prophet Daniel: “The one like a Son of man received dominion, glory, and kingship; all peoples, nations, and languages serve him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that shall not be taken away, his kingship shall not be destroyed” (Daniel 7:13-14). A king, especially in the Old Testament, was made king because he would protect his people.  As we also heard proclaimed in the psalm, “the Lord is King”! The Lord is going to do everything in his power to protect us. 

Peter, James, and John see Jesus “transfigured before them; his face shone like the sun and his clothes became white as light” (Mt. 17:2). Later, “a bright cloud cast a shadow over them, then from the cloud came a voice that said, ‘This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him’” (Mt. 17:5). With this glimpse of his divine and kingly nature, the disciples are given strength to endure not only the crucifixion, but also are given strength for their future ministries. The Lord is King and has already won the battle. 

  As we celebrate the Transfiguration, know that Jesus desires for us to have the same personal encounter with him that his apostles experienced in the Gospel. That way, whatever crosses may come, we will know in a profound way that Jesus Christ is King and is willing to fight and die for us!  

After the Transfiguration, Jesus walks down the mountain with Peter, James, and John and tells them to “not tell the vision to anyone until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead” (Mt.17:9). Ultimately, the Transfiguration reveals the Lord’s divine plan and his desire for us to join him in the coming resurrection as well. When things get difficult, I just keep hearing Jesus Christ saying in response, “I got you!” 

Father Michael