If Catholicism is true, that means a lot of other stuff is false. Relativism is the belief that there is no truth, as if Catholicism, Buddhism, Protestantism, Wicca, and any other religion were equal because different people prefer them. The problem with this belief is the existence of the martyrs: if all religions were equally valid, then why would anyone choose one that demanded hardship?  Why would anyone die for their faith if there were easier faiths? Indeed, such questions clearly show that relativism is insane. Our preference for something does not make something true. Either Jesus rose from the dead or he did not. Either the Eucharist is Jesus or not. Either Jesus is the one true God or he is not. Either abortion is evil or it is not. Catholicism never chose these doctrines because people liked them; it chose them because they are true. 

Relativism is a great ailment, “the spiritual poverty of our time,” as Pope Francis has said. It gets its support from the promise of promoting harmony, as if everyone will get along better if everyone is somehow “right.” But what ends up happening is that everyone is just equally wrong: there are no morals and no truths. Vague religion and spirituality essentially means whatever anyone wants it to mean, and that frequently translates to some individual thinking himself more enlightened than thousands of martyrs and deep spiritual thinkers who lived and died under the commands and unique lordship of Christ. We tend to not do this leap of self-faith with science and other things that are complicated, but when it comes to the delicate eternal realities of the soul, many are surprisingly ready to jump. 

Online, I see this relativistic sentiment most prevalent online cleverly disguised: “Religion is a guy in a church thinking about fishing. Relationship is a guy out fishing thinking about God.” The problem with this saying is that it assumes religion is not a relationship. Couples understand this: there are rules to love. A man cannot just love a woman how he wants, but how she wants, and vice versa. Chores need to be done, bills are paid, and diapers need to be changed. If selfish passions just dominated the day, there would be no house to live in! The same is true with God, and there are rules to love, and it is “Thy will be done.” Hell is “my will be done” and it is lonely. Therefore, when helping people struggling with relativism, we must communicate that loving God is on his terms, not ours. Religion is a relationship, and relationships are not simply about preference, but they are about “Thy will be done.”

Five years into my seminary experience, I was asked to take an extra year to work on some things in my life. Specifically, I was starting to have trouble with some relationships, my interior joy was not abundant. Being told to  take an extra year was rather devastating, but now I see it as one of the most beautiful things that had ever happened to me.

 What I found that year was the joy I had always searched for, and it came through interior healing. Here, I want to point out a common experience in the interior life: often those who pursue holiness seriously will suddenly reach a block, and the only way forward is backward. It is like going to a hotel without a key card; you simply cannot rest in your room until you go back to the reception desk and retrieve a key. So it was with my spiritual life and everything about me; I had to go to my past in order to go forward with my life in the present. I had a lot about my childhood that I never really looked at; there was a lot in me that never grew up. Thus began the counseling, spiritual direction, intense prayer, meetings with priest advisors, and plenty of reflection. It was exactly what I needed.

I was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder in Kindergarten, and early elementary school was difficult for me for years, or at least the social part of school. Relationships were extremely difficult because I was so impulsive, and I frequented the naughty bench for recess. My life really took a turn for the better, though, when the continuous love of my Catholic teachers and family finally broke through to me such that I could see goodness in myself. But it was those difficult and painful years before this that I had really pushed away from my memory. That was the Steven I never wanted to think about, but it was the Steven I needed to accept. It was the key card to go forward in my life.

If you want joy in your life, then go back. Painful memories need to be processed and sanctified by the power of Jesus in prayer. So much of our lives we can hide from pain when it needs to be faced and redeemed. Jesus did this to the child in me just as He did for the child in the gospel. He goes into the house of the child we thought dead, but He declares the child is sleeping (Mark 5:39). Then he puts away all distractions to enter that room, takes the child’s hand and says, “Talitha koum!” And the child comes back to life! And that child is hungry once again, perhaps more than physically. The child is spiritually again hungry for communion and joy and all the other things we did not know we hungered for. Allow the Lord to reach out to the dead pains in your past so that He can raise you to life.
 
PS—A great book is Be Healed by Bob Shuchts (Ave Maria Press, 2014). ISBN: ‎978-1594714764

For the past week, and continuing until July, the Eucharistic Pilgrimage has been occurring throughout the United States. Four different corners of the United States hosted the sending off sites to meet in Indianapolis, and as many remember, the Twin Cities pilgrimage came through La Crosse and Wisconsin Rapids last week. Jesus, in the most holy Eucharist, processed across the Jackson Street bridge in the special pilgrimage vehicle and then carried to Sts. Peter and Paul on Sunday for a holy hour. 

Here are some thoughts from a parish priest on the entire ordeal, which I pray may feed some prayer and reflection. The Eucharist is processing to the “core” of the United States, or at least somewhat, that is the center or heart of the country. Here I am reminded of the Latin word for “heart,” which is “cor.” The “core” of the United States needs the heart of Jesus. Right now, the United States is a comatose giant in need of heart surgery. She is like the Tin Man, metallic and in desperate need of a heart. Our pews are beginning to follow the footsteps of fallen
away Catholic mother Europe whose churches are becoming coffee shops, her neighborhoods are ever more Muslim, her cities atheist. So what is missing? Why are families gone? It is simple, the Eucharist. A Catholic’s serious religious observance is directly proportional to belief in the Eucharist. If the Eucharist is just a piece of bread, then the pew is another piece of wood. But if that host is God, then the pew is an encounter with the living God. 

As Americans, we can be rather tin
man, empty inside. We can be fickle about religion and the things that really matter. But Catholicism is absolutely true. Period. If we waver on the importance of Catholicism and the Eucharist, so will our children for the next generation. When we say missing Mass is okay to accommodate some sport, sleeping in, or family time, we are essentially telling them that God is not Lord. The Eucharist needs to be our core as Catholics. Eucharistic devotion is not something just for those Catholics at the Marian Center, nor is it just something for Sunday. Sunday Mass is the minimum, and things can survive on the minimum, but they do not live well. We might survive a time without a heart, but living is another matter. Therefore, during this Eucharistic Pilgrimage, I highly encourage you to increase your devotion to the Eucharist. Get at the heart, literally, of Catholicism, the heart of Jesus in the Eucharist.

There are thousands of reasons to leave the Catholic Church, but there is only one reason to stay away, namely, not knowing Jesus in the Eucharist. I have heard so many. “Father, I don’t
go anymore because the Church is so judgy,” but there is only one judgment that matters, from the silence of the tabernacle in every church. “Father, I get nothing out of Church,” but we go
not for something, but for Someone. “Father, I was hurt,” but there is only one Person that can heal you, and only one Medicine. In all of our lives, Catholic religious observance is most difficult when belief in the Eucharist wavers; for if everyone really knew and believed in the power of the Eucharist, Sunday observance would be easy.



Now, a temptation can arise in us Catholics to win over converts. “Father, we just need to make Mass more exciting and relevant, and then people will come,” but it is a lie; for people may come, but they never stay. People come for shows, but they only stay for Jesus. What people need is more Jesus, not more entertainment. For each of the thousands of reasons to leave the
Catholic Church, there are equally thousands of reasons to come, but there is only one Reason to stay in the Catholic Church. It is the Eucharist. How did the early Christians make converts? They preached the gospel of Jesus Christ who died and rose. People who accepted this message were baptized and then brought to the “breaking of the bread” which is the early name
for Mass (Acts 2:4142). Why did people stay then? It was the conviction of the dying and rising of Jesus, and this is precisely what the Mass is: it is the saving sacrifice and resurrection of Jesus shared with us.



For us, then, on the battlefield of potential converts and family members who have fallen away. What are we missing for those empty seats in Church? How do we get them back? Listen closely to people’s excuses, not what they say, but rather why they say it. The reason hiding beneath can be guilt, worldliness, hatred, fear, rationalization, and we know that the answer is the Eucharist at Mass, but the pewless often do not know. What they need is someone to really listen and accompany them to the pew. They need someone like John to stand with them by the Cross. Preaching the dying and rising of Jesus is not a oneoff thing. Think of the years that your parents walked you to Church and slowly fed you the mysteries of the Eucharist. Paul wrote letters for years, and Jesus taught people how to pray for three years. Bring someone to the adoration chapel, teach them about the death and resurrection of Jesus which occurs at every sacrament.



This Pentecost, ask the Holy Spirit to give you the words to convict people of the gospel message, pure and raw of Jesus dying and rising, of Jesus in the Eucharist.

The Bible is very clear that God does not think like us. He would leave ninety-nine sheep to seek for one lost one, and he would forgive abominable deeds. He even allowed his Son to die upon a cross. In short, God thinks about things in ways that do not fit into our normal human way of thinking. We are, as it were, far too efficient compared to God’s way of thinking. Most of us, perhaps, if we were in God’s shoes and with his power, would simply snap our fingers to bring back the lost sheep, or we would just prevent or fix the sin at hand. For salvation, we would probably find another way to save the world without a violent death upon a cross.
 
Now this sort of reflection is necessary to understand that terrifying question about our good God allowing us to suffer: no answer will be adequate to our merely human way of thinking. God is not a being like us, and to ask why of the ultimate Why is asking something that will not make sense. It is like a walrus asking us why we eat with forks; the walrus cannot even begin to fathom what a fork does, and such concepts are so beyond his capacity of reason. Yet, although the “forks” of God might elude us, we “walruses” at least know something about eating; we can have an insight into what God really values. And God values a relationship with us more than anything. Suffering makes us weak, and weakness makes us ask for his help. Children understand this; they are content with being weak and being reserved to the fact that they simply need help. When they are hungry, they do not start wondering about how forks work, they simply cry and trust that someone will feed them. Their weakness makes them reliant upon others. Suffering draws us out of ourselves, and so it is a great mystery of encounter with God, especially since his most recognized image is him upon the cross.
 
Again, our minds might be tempted in our old walrus-way of thinking to simply go back to tusks and fishing: couldn’t God just make an easier way to know him without suffering? Perhaps this is what Peter was thinking when he suggested to our Lord that he forgo the cross. We tend to view suffering as a place of separation from God, as undignified, and as something to be avoided. But God makes suffering a place of encounter. He embraces the cross, and he brings himself into all of the suffering that continually afflicts us, from our loneliness to our physical sufferings.
 
And so the answer to our suffering and any suffering that any of us may be experiencing now. Let it draw us upward, that is, toward God. Weakness is the vehicle of the Christian spirit. God made the cross dignified, and so suffering is now god-like and beautiful, and we need not be ashamed of it. It should bring us to a disposition of needing his companionship and the companionship of others, and thus we should be drawn closer to God. Jesus, after all, is found upon the cross, and so that is where we will find God.
 
“My power is made perfect in weakness” — 2 Cor 12:9

Alas, that question. There are numerous iterations of this question as I have heard it over some years, and here is a sampling of other ways of asking it: “I feel more fed by the songs and sermons down the road, can’t I just go there?”; “Aren’t other religions easier and more positive than Catholicism, why not leave?”; “What’s the big deal? Everyone finds God in their own way.” In all of these questions, the problem is not the answer, but rather the question. Any Catholic, by asking it, has missed fundamentally the reason for religion.  Religion is not a matter of preference like choosing Subway over Pizza Hut. Religion is not a consumer good, and we are not junkies who choose the place that we like best; as St. Paul says, “The kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking, but of righteousness” (Rom 14:17). Righteousness, or “being right” with God, that is right-relationship with God is the goal of religion. Now, if “being right” with God is the goal, that means there must be some ways of “being wrong” with God. In other words, not all religions make us “right” with God.
 
There are some obvious examples of “being wrong” with God. Some religions of the ancient world thought it pious to sacrifice children, and some extremists (even some Christians) use acts of terror to glorify God. These are   obviously wrong and despicable to God; they use explicit evils. But what of the more subtle cases as in our original question with Protestantism?  Lutherans do not sacrifice children like the pagans, and Baptists have many of the same beliefs as Catholics. So what makes the difference that Catholicism is the way to “be right” with God?  What claim do Catholics have that Protestants do not?
 
People claim to me often that all the Christian religions are essentially the same (which is hilarious because I am a priest who has staked his entire life on Catholicism being the right one). But they are not the same: in fact, they rarely agree on the fundamentals for being “right” with God.    Abortion, for example, is wrong, but somehow many Christian denominations accept it. Is this simply not fundamental? What about Jesus being present in the Eucharist, or sexual morality, or any other differences in religion?  Who gets to decide what is important and “right” to God?  Here we find the greatest difference between Catholics and Protestants, and really the greatest argument for Catholicism being   correct: Authority. Protestants claim authority from the Scriptures, but who interprets the Scriptures?  There are thousands of interpretations of Scriptures each with their own corresponding Protestant church and morals.  There is one Catholic Church, albeit with its sinners, but with an  unchanging authority over what is important to God. The job of the bishops (who carry on the teaching authority of the Apostles) is to safeguard the doctrine and moral teachings that have been handed onto them with an unchanging   doctrine about the Truth. Catholicism has never been about our preference, it is about what is right. Be right before God.

Lent is in a few days. It is at once the dreaded season and the fruitful season for the Catholic. It is when we sacrifice most intentionally for the Lord, and therefore we both hate and love it. It is in this way most comparable to a root canal  procedure, or perhaps like an open-chest heart surgery. No one in their right mind would ever desire to experience these painful operations, yet all would also   desire to have these done when needed.  We like the    results, but we hate the work; we love the Promised Land, but we hate the desert of the Exodus.

Here, on the brink of Lent, a Catholic intuitively relearns what religion is about. Religion is about God, and if we are honest, our lives are not about God even though they should be. We are addicted to sins, things, opinions, scrolling, and a whole host of things that are not God. Therefore, God wants to do work on our hearts; he is the heart surgeon, and Lent is his operating room. For Lent, we are addicts in rehab, and the Doctor prescribes cold turkey so that our heart stays healthy. And so, the question naturally arises at the check-in before Lent: what is your addiction? That is a good place to start when deciding how to make a good Lent.

The Church describes three practices characteristic of the Lenten season: prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. Fasting is simply giving up things to help focus on the most important things, or rather to focus on the most important Person. Some simple fasts are not eating between meals, taking a cool shower, or not using any screens for recreation. Do not cheat yourself on fasting; it should not be simply giving up chocolate when you will just eat ice cream. Make it a “no” that hurts a bit. Fasting from all unnecessary screens is a great way for a family to fast; it will put screens in their proper place in our lives.

Lent is not just fasting, though, it is also a time to increase in prayer. If a family gives up screens, then praying a Rosary is a good substitute for the family. I encourage your family to try praying together this Lent. We do not want our fasting to lead us to another addiction; instead, prayer should fill the gap. Lastly, almsgiving is another practice to accompany our fast; we give financial and temporal assistance to those in need. Helping at the food pantry or making a donation to charity is a great way to make Lent special this year. May the Lord give us a fruitful Lent this year,
 

Idolatry, in its basic sense, is the sin of worshiping something other than God. It is the confusion of the most severe priority, the replacement of the Creator with his creation. Most of us can easily think of some examples of this: like pagans worshiping trees or biblical examples of worshiping a golden calf or the false god, Baal. Yet, idolatry today is still very close to home. As the Catechism states, “Idolatry not only refers to false pagan worship… Man commits idolatry whenever he honors and reveres a creature in place of God” (CCC 2113). In short, idolatry occurs whenever we value things over and above God.

The most common examples I see today of idolatry occur with the prioritization of Mass on Sunday. How many times does sleeping in and a sports game prevent someone from going to Mass? Sleeping in can be a good thing, as can a Packer game and a sports game; but when such things are valued to the expense of worshiping God, it is thereby being given honor that is due to God alone. We become what we worship. The worshipers of sleep become soft like their beds; and the worshipers of sports become happy and chipper when their team wins and depressed when they lose. Workaholics become their work, which is never play and never good enough. When we value our preferences and desires over God’s preferences and desires, we worship ourselves, and then we become little idols, pagan rivals to the One Majestic King of the Universe. Worship has everything to do with identity; what we live for has everything to do with how we view ourselves.

When we worship God as we are meant to, we become like Him, loving and creative, and possessing sacrificial heroism. Hence we eat Him in the Mass; we eat Jesus to become Jesus, and Jesus lives his sacramental life in us. Each small choice slowly reveals who we really are. Either we are a creature whose life exists for itself and its own autonomy or we exist for God and his will. Either we are our own god, or God is our Lord.

At this point, I must be clear: there are certain things that can legitimately dismiss one from the obligation of Mass, like health-care workers who need to work over all Mass times (which is why this city has Saturday night Masses and a Sunday night Mass). Likewise, those who are too ill or unable to come to Mass because of some condition are also not required. I am not writing about these so much as I am about the dangerous mindset that we can get ourselves into. The dangerous mindset we get ourselves into is pride when it comes to religion; to play out our thoughts and desires at the expense of God’s desires and preferences. It is the primordial sin from the first temptation from the Garden of Eden, “you shall be like God” (Gen 3:5). Such sin is the same today whenever we belittle that which God commands, for we, it is true, act in defiance of the majesty of God whenever we act against his precepts in the Catholic Church. Whenever we sin, we act like we are our own god, with our own laws and opinions about the universe instead of God’s. May the Lord give us obedience and conformity to His will.

During this Eucharistic Revival, the question has come up about how to receive Holy Communion, and with it, whether to receive on the hand or tongue. The tradition for centuries in the Church has been that the faithful could only receive Holy Communion on the tongue, and then it suddenly changed to also allow reception on the hand (as many may remember) in 1977. What do we make of this?                                                   

Briefly, here is the story. Shortly after Vatican II, some bishops asked the pope if it would be possible to allow reception of communion on the hand. The reasons for this request were many, but perhaps chief among them was that there is evidence of at least some ancient custom of receiving on the hand. Vatican II had brought back other ancient customs and prayers into the modern rite, and it seemed to many bishops that communion on the hand was a logical addition to the return to ancient customs. After these requests, the pope decided to consult all of his bishops to inform his decision on the matter. His decision is obviously in the positive, and for the United States, at least, reception on the hand is now an allowable practice.

Nevertheless, it must be noted that the Church usually has a precaution whenever mentioning reception on the hand. With reception on the hand, there is “danger of loss of reverence” for the Eucharist (Memoriale Domini of 1969). What does this mean for us? It means that, of course, you are allowed to receive on the hand just as much as you can receive on the tongue. It also means, however, that if any of us do receive on the hand, we best make sure that our reception is respectful and reverent of the Eucharist.                                                                   

What does this mean for how we receive the Eucharist? It means that no matter how we receive, it should be in a manner that shows our belief in the Eucharist. Before I was a priest, I have frequently received both ways, and a game-changer for my faith in my day-to-day life was when I started paying attention to crumbs of the Eucharist that might be on my hands. Since the Eucharist is Jesus, and Jesus is God, that means every crumb, no matter how small, is a crumb of God. How does the Eucharist enter our mouths?  Is it like a potato chip, or the God of the Universe?  Does our carefulness with every possible crumb show to us and others that we really believe? Does our careful preparation of our souls, especially morally and with a recent Confession, show that we really mean our “Amen” when presented with the Body of Christ.

In short, when we are asking about whether to receive on the hand or the tongue, perhaps it is a better question to ask whether we are receiving the Eucharist with careful reverence.  Each crumb, even the ones we cannot see, are really the precious savior. When we consume and swallow, that is really Jesus we are eating, and every crumb matters. How we handle Jesus at Mass shows a great deal about how we think of Jesus in our heart.
 

Purgatory can seem like some elusive thing that Catholics believe. It is time for a refresher on what it is and why it is a necessary teaching of the Church in this month of November when we pray especially for the dead in purgatory. Firstly, purgatory is the purge-a-tory: it is simply the place where things are purged before they go to heaven. Heaven is a permanent state of perfect union with God where sin, death, and imperfection are not possible. Therefore, imperfect things going to heaven need to be purged of imperfection. Catholics need never be embarrassed of this teaching, as it is one of the most ancient teachings in the Church. First century catacomb tombs have inscriptions of prayers upon them for the dead who are on their way to heaven, as well as inscriptions imploring travelers to pray for the deceased in the tomb. In short, early Christians believed that the faithful departed did not go “straight to heaven.” Rather, the dead needed prayers of assistance before they could reach the heavenly homeland.

Numerous scriptures hint at purgatory, but the most clear I know of is Luke 12:43-48. Here, Jesus describes what will happen to those who are unprepared for his final return at the end of time. The wicked servant will be “cut to pieces” and put with the “unbelievers,” which is clearly Hell. Yet, he provides a couple other options for servants not so wicked. These will be “beaten” either a lot or a little, but do not end up with the unbelievers. In other words, there is some other punishment for those who are not outright wicked servants, and it is less than Hell. In short, it is purgatory. If you ever find yourself in need of arguing for purgatory, I find this the best scripture to use.                        

Now it is important for a Catholic to understand why many people do not believe in purgatory. The first reason is that “purgatory” is not in the Bible; but then again, neither are the words “Trinity,” nor “incarnation.” The Church has given these technical names to certain doctrines over time, just like purgatory was given its name over time; so that argument should not sway any serious debater.                     

The second and biggest reason people do not believe purgatory is Protestantism which sees purgatory as a violation of the doctrine “salvation by grace alone.” Basically, the problem Protestants see is that purgatory makes it seem like our prayers and actions are saving souls instead of God. The problem with this thinking is that all Christians do this all the time when we pray for others. God often dispenses graces through creation: our prayers, actions, sacraments, and most of all through His Son’s created flesh and cross.   I encourage you to pray for the dead this month, and praise God for His gracious gift of purgatory!