Oddly enough, one of the best parts of my two-week pilgrimage to France this month was returning to OLM and celebrating Sunday Mass with all of you. I felt more joy praying the Mass with the people whom I have come to know and love over the last three years than when I was visiting some of my favorite saints: St. Therese of Lisieux, St. John Vianney, and St. Bernadette of Lourdes to name a few. Maybe you find that hard to believe. Maybe that’s just the jet-lag speaking. True, saying Mass at the tombs of these heroes of our faith was a blessing I’ll never forget—I’d do it again in a heartbeat! But I think the Lord was telling me at 8am Mass last Sunday something along the lines of “there’s no place like home.” 

People imagine that the priesthood is somehow extra-ordinarily demanding—that we must be so brave and selfless to give up a wife and children and money for the collar…but we’re not. I’m just as much a sinner in need of God’s grace as anyone else—slow to relinquish my preferences, slow to give God my heart, slow to trust that He’ll give me more than I give Him. I became a priest because God called me to, and what I found was the pearl of great price—what I pray all of you discover as well. That “whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” (Matt 16:25) 

The issue at hand is that we imagine that the opposite of the Gospel is true. We think, “Whoever preserves his life from the excessive demands of God will find it.” But to preserve oneself from God’s invitations, is to preserve oneself from love. Hence, “Whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” (Matt 16:25)

It is certainly a big demand from God to me to have to leave here. I will always remember OLM, and yes, I will deeply miss it, because I will deeply miss you. I started tearing up months ago at the thought of leaving this place that has been my family and my joy! But I know that the Lord has good things in store for all of us.

 With St. Paul, I hope that I have at least somewhat succeeded in living out the words: “what we preach is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake.” (2 Cor 4:5) Many times I have fallen short of living this out, so I humbly ask that you forgive me where I have fallen short. But above all, I must say, thank you… for your love, your friendship, and for blessing me over the last three years. I have learned so much here from Fr. Don, from Fr. Michael, and from all of you. The priesthood has been an inestimable gift to me. This assignment has been an inestimable gift to me. Serving you has been an inestimable gift to me. Please pray for us priests as we seek to lose our lives for His sake, as we try to help you to do the same!

Father James

The mere fact that my mother was born in the Middle East sparked a profound question during my high school years. I pondered, what if my mother had been raised Jewish or Muslim? Would I not then follow that faith? These thoughts led me to a seemingly intellectual conclusion – that religion was merely a product of our parents, and the ultimate purpose in life was simply to be a good person.

However, as I delved deeper into the depths of our faith, I began to realize the flaws in my argument. I had failed to consider that in an orderly world, crafted by a loving God, actions bear consequences and punishments. Expiation and reconciliation become necessary for the harmony of this design.

Let’s take a simple example. Imagine two children engaged in an argument, with one consumed by anger, throwing a punch. What unfolds for that child? The parents step in, handing out punishments such as grounding or restricted screen time. Oh, the pain! Now, fast forward to that same child as an adult, still wrestling with a volatile temper, throwing a punch at a stranger. What follows? Legal consequences, potential trials, charges of assault and battery, leading to county jail or community service.

Now, let’s raise the stakes. Picture that individual, still burdened by anger, directing their fury towards a local mayor or governor. The repercussions escalate, resulting in a sentence within the confines of a state prison. And now, imagine that same person, harboring that same childhood anger, launching an attack on a Congressman, a Senator, or even the President. The outcome could be fatal, or at the very least, a life behind the impenetrable walls of a federal prison.

What is the fundamental difference between these scenarios? The anger remains unchanged, as does the action taken. However, the consequences and punishments differ vastly. What altered? It is to whom the target of that anger is directed towards. 

Now, consider the consequences for sinning against God, who is infinite. Wouldn’t our punishment then become infinite? Can we, as finite beings, ever repay such a debt? The answer, resoundingly, is no. But here’s the remarkable truth: if Jesus Christ is indeed the Son of God, He can bear the weight of our infinite offenses. Only Jesus can bridge the vast chasm that separates us. And that, my friends, is the reconciliation that St. Paul speaks of in our second reading!

To be a good person remains of utmost importance, but there is something even more profound that Jesus Christ offers to the world than a mere example of goodness. He offers us reconciliation with our loving God. He offers to restore the bond that was broken by our transgressions. So, let us embrace the truth that being a good person is significant, but let us also recognize the extraordinary gift Jesus Christ extends to us – the opportunity to be reconciled with our Creator, to have our sins forgiven, and to experience the boundless love and grace of our Heavenly Father.

Father Michael

Couple of years ago, I had an experience while in Africa, I happened to encounter an Anglican pastor who told me “You know brother, you Catholic Christians, you have three great things that make me always admire you.  First, you have the Holy Father the symbol of unity and Christian Catholic communion. Second, you have the Virgin Mary the mother of God himself and the mother of all humanity. And third, you have the Eucharist, the permanent presence of Jesus.”  He added, “Brother, those are facts that are undisputable.”

This led me to a very deep reflection, I entered into a very profound appreciation of my faith and understanding to be a Catholic.  As we celebrate this Solemnity: Corpus Christi, I think it’s right and fitting to reflect on the meaning, the importance and relevance of the Eucharist in our lives and faith as Christians. The permanent presence of God in our church in our life and in our faith as Catholic Christians.

The celebration of Corpus Christi invites you and I, to appreciate this great gift of Jesus himself remaining present among us, his choice and free will that he continued to be present among us in his true body and blood. How I wish and how wonderful it is that we always found time to encounter Jesus in his body and blood, to receive him, to contemplate him, to meditate him ,and to be with him. It is transforming to be with Jesus in the Eucharist, to adore him, to have some moment with him. And so today we are celebrating this solemnity of Jesus’ presence among us, his constant and permanent presence in our ministry, his constant awareness and company accompaniment of humanity.

This beautiful solemnity is something worthy of contemplating. The fact that Jesus is present amongst us, the fact that He is always in the Tabernacle there waiting for us, to come and adore him, and receive him, to contemplate and share with him, to be part of his being. This is a renewing and transforming experience for us Catholics. It’s no wonder that we are admired by those who don’t have him: we have the Eucharist, we have the mother of our Lord, we have the successor of Peter the symbol of unity and communion.

Vincent Otenio – Seminarian in Training

Growing up in the 90’s, one of my favorite TV shows (maybe because of the suspenseful music) was “Unsolved Mysteries”.  The show, as the name states, reenacted ongoing mysteries from the past.  Occasionally, throughout the years of the show, you might be lucky to get “an update” where they would reveal an answer to a former mystery. 

As a math guy and an engineer, I have to say, I don’t like mysteries.  I was always taught to solve the unknown.  Even to this day, people will come with me with problems, and my automatic instinct is to calculate the precise solution.  My mindset: answers are good, mysteries are bad.

But then, how do I deal with the ‘mysteries’ of our faith.  For example, this weekend we celebrate the Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity: God is three persons, yet one God.  Is this a mystery I can solve?  The answer is clearly no… but then, are some mysteries therefore good?

Surprisingly, the answer is yes! Some mysteries are not meant to be completely solved, but rather entered into!  We can see this in other areas of our lives too. For instance, what person in your life can you completely explain or define? Can you ever really solve another person? No. There is always more to be discovered in an other—even our very own hearts are a mystery to us!  This isn’t a bad thing, but an opportunity. It’s what makes love, marriage, family, and friends a beautiful adventure that can captivate us for a lifetime! If we’re willing to enter into the mystery, to engage the mystery of the other with love and respect, then these relationships can continue to unfold as an ever more beautiful mystery!

So, unlike the 90’s show might have us believe, some mysteries are meant to be left unsolved—not because they’re nonsensical, but because their depths could never truly be exhausted. God revealed himself as love: as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. We need not fret if we cannot fully grasp how it is possible to have 3 divine persons and only one God. Instead we can concern ourselves with the question, “How is my relationship going with God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit?” It’s the mystery of our relationship with love himself, and the mystery at the heart of heaven.

Father Michael

One of the most compelling things about our Catholic faith is our understanding of redemptive suffering—so much so that one couple I know specifically converted from Protestantism to Catholicism because of this! In their previous church, there was little understanding of how to fit suffering within the greater scheme of things. One can be tempted to believe that suffering is a sign of God’s displeasure, whereas a lack of suffering is a sign of God’s favor. Yet, upon reading the lives of the saints, we find that the opposite is almost true!

St. Thérèse of Lisieux, for example, rejoiced on Good Friday one year when she received the first sign of the tuberculosis which would take her life at age 24: “Ah! my soul was filled with a great consolation; I was interiorly persuaded that Jesus, on the anniversary of His own death, wanted to have me hear His first call. It was like a sweet and distant murmur that announced the Bridegroom’s arrival.” To be honest, such words from the saints can feel naïve or unrealistic as we are tempted to think, “Yeah, but they’re so far beyond me in sanctity,” or “But that was a different time and place…” Yet, human they were, and human are we.

JP2’s encyclical Salvifici Doloris explores the theology of suffering in great depth, and we would do well to heed this saint’s words of wisdom. For instance, he writes, “The springs of divine power gush forth precisely in the midst of human weakness. Those who share in the sufferings of Christ preserve in their own sufferings a very special particle of the infinite treasure of the world’s Redemption, and can share this treasure with others.” Suffering can be an opportunity for intimacy with Jesus, intercession for others, and the salvation of our souls. We are all going to face trials and death anyways, so why not let Jesus give them meaning?

Our world has lost the significance of suffering as it has lost the significance of Jesus’ cross. This is why we see even traditionally Christian countries like Portugal legalizing physician-assisted suicide, while others like Canada are already passing legislation to extend their medically assisted suicides to include “circumstances where a person’s sole underlying medical condition is a mental illness.” (see canada.ca)

Let’s be clear: asking physicians who have taken the Hippocratic Oath to inject you or your loved one with toxic quantities of chemicals with the intention of shortening your life is the opposite of ‘dying with dignity’. While watching another suffer is a great suffering in itself, what suffering people need is accompaniment, not euthanizing. The sick, mentally ill, and dying have inherent dignity. Their existence is valuable! And while there is nothing wrong with lessening someone’s pain (with painkillers, for instance), there is something very wrong with intentionally hastening someone’s death (even with painkillers). This line can be very thin, but it’s no less important: the catechism equates euthanasia to murder. (CCC 2276-9) 

Finally, the sick and elderly elicit sacrificial love from their family and community—we should not resent them for that, but thank them and assure them that they are not ‘forgotten’, ‘worthless’, or ‘unwanted’! The difference between St. Thérèse’s disposition towards death and medically euthanizing humans is the difference between “thy will be done” and “my will be done”. Like the 7 Sacraments (or the Trinity for that matter), human suffering is indeed a mystery—not in the sense that it is irrational or unsolved, but in the sense that its significance is inexhaustible! Let us therefore trust in our good Lord, even in the face of darkness—for it is there that His light can shine all the more brilliantly.  

Father James