Changes, and a Request for Help

A few months ago, Pope Leo XIV walked out onto the loggia of St. Peter’s Basilica as our new Pope. People were shocked because it has long been said that an American would never become pope. Although he is the first American to assume the Petrine Ministry, let’s recall that America is only a couple of hundred years old. In Church time, that is just the blink of an eye. Perhaps more a cause for wonder is another aspect of Leo’s background. In the mid to late Fourth Century, a Catholic woman from Africa named Monica wept and agonized that her son lived a dissolute life and refused to be baptized. She prayed, cried, and offered sacrifices all in the hope of what appeared impossible; namely, the conversion of her son. Eventually, her son was converted and was baptized. He then became one of the greatest bishops and theologians the Catholic Church has ever known. He, of course, is St. Augustine. Augustine’s autobiography, entitled, “The Confessions,” is one of the most read books in history and has helped many others to be converted to Christ. Some 1600 years or so after Augustine lived, a young man entered a religious order named for St. Augustine; the Augustinians. That man, unknown to most of us a few months ago, is Pope Leo XIV. He is, in Church lingo, a son of St. Augustine. This week the Church’s calendar has many great feasts. Among them appear a mother and her son. On August 27th, we celebrate the Feast of St. Monica and on August 28th, we celebrate the Feast of St. Augustine. These dual feasts are a source of hope. Little did the Fourth Century woman named Monica know when she begged for her son’s conversion that, not only would he convert, but that he would become a bishop, a doctor of the Church, and one of the greatest and most well-known Catholics ever. Could she ever have imagined that people all over the world for centuries would read her son’s homilies, books, and conversion story? Could she have imagined that the Pope one day would be a member of an order of priests named after her son? When people we know and love are far away from the Lord, unconverted, immersed in sin, and far from the Eucharist, it breaks our hearts. This week’s feasts remind us that our broken hearts need not be discouraged hearts. St. Monica’s prayers for her son were effective beyond her wildest imaginations. She remained steadfast in her prayers. Augustine, Leo, and all of us owe a lot to the prayers of St. Monica. Are there people in your life whom you love who have given themselves over to serious sin? Are there people in your life who are living as though God does not matter? Are there people in your life whose hearts are hardened, who refuse to go to Mass, who seem completely and hopelessly lost? Take heart! This week we will celebrate St. Augustine who seemed hopelessly lost, but the prayers and sacrifices of his mother won his conversion. Take courage and pray for those in our lives who seem beyond help. And, let us not all forget that each of us needs a greater conversion in our life. Are we ourselves struggling, becoming lackluster in our Faith, lukewarm in our spiritual lives, resigned to be merely mediocre in our Catholic life? This week’s feasts remind us that we can, by God’s grace, become great saints. On the Feast of Sts. Monica and Augustine, I will be on my yearly retreat. (Priests are required to make a retreat each year). I will be in a hermitage on the grounds of a monastery of nuns in the Catskills. During those days, I will pray for all of you. I will pray for all of those seemingly hopeless people in your own lives, that through the intercession of St. Monica and her son, St. Augustine, God might do miraculous things. I also ask you to pray for me, that I experience a deeper conversion to the Lord and that I become, like Augustine, a more faithful and holy shepherd. Lastly, to all of you who agonize for your own children and their conversion, offer your prayers, your sacrifices, and your broken hearts to the Lord, but no discouragement! You have a friend in St. Monica! Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes

This past week, a few priest friends and I spent a few days together in the White Mountains. One of their parishioners let us use their home for a few days. In fact, I’m writing this while sitting on a porch surrounded by mountains. This morning, we all woke up, made brief acknowledgement of one another’s existence, and then spent the next hour or so, quietly praying. In a little while, we will have Mass together. Our silence in each other’s presence does not isolate us from each other. In fact, during the whole time we were silently praying, I felt a greater bond with them. We often fear silence. We are afraid to think too deeply about our life, about our own heart, and about the meaning of our existence. We fill our life with noise. Even when we are not actively listening or watching something, the TV or the radio is droning along in the background. Podcasts, messages, and alerts punctuate our every moment. They fill our life with constant distraction. Much of this, I think, is because we fear hearing what our heart has to say. We also fear hearing what the Lord has to say. Silence, however, trains us how to really listen. It trains us to listen to our own heart and to know ourselves. This is no small matter. The human heart—our heart—is worth listening to. Silence also trains us to listen to the world around us. The scriptures remind us that the whole creation proclaims the greatness of God. Imagine, the whole earth is telling us about God. Do we hear it? Silence allows us to hear the chorus of creation and directs our glance to God. In a short while, my friends and I will offer Mass together, eat together, and go for a walk. I will be able to appreciate and enter into those moments with greater attention and with greater joy because of the silence we have already shared together. Silence prepares us to receive reality more completely. Silence is not an escape from reality. When we have silence in our life, we are drawn closer to what is real. Silence, draws us closer to our own heart, to the creation, to the people around us, and to the Lord. My own heart this morning is filled with much gratitude for the opportunity to spend a few days with friends, for the chance to be surrounded by the beauty of creation, and for the gift of silence. As I write these words before my friends and I offer Mass together, the silence brings to my mind all of you. In silence, I imagine you in your usual seats at Mass. The silence deepens my affection for you and my appreciation for you. It also helps me to pray for you and for your petitions. St. Ambrose says, “The devil loves noise. Christ looks for silence.” If our life is filled with noise and distraction, we become shallow and isolated. If we learn to have some silence in our life, we experience a deepening of our humanity and a deeper communion. Let’s all try to spend time in silence each day. In doing so, our life will become richer and deeper. The Devil loves noise. Christ looks for silence. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes

Last Sunday and again this Sunday, the Gospel speaks to us about the need for vigilance, preparedness, and readiness in the spiritual life. We are to live in this world as pilgrims, but not as permanent residents. The things of this world are given to us, not as ends in themselves, but as means to help us to heaven. Thus, our possessions, gifts, talents, and time, are all given to us in order to assist us on the path to heaven. These gospels make us ask ourselves, “What do I cling to?” Clinging to worldly things–like our time, our possessions, our money–often disfigures us. The image of the bitter, cranky miser comes to mind. Angry and anxious, he accumulates more and more in a frantic pursuit of a sense of safety that slips more and more from his grasp. The miser does not become freer and happier as he ages. Instead, the more he accumulates and clings to, the less happy he becomes. The Gospel instead proposes that we store up for ourselves an inexhaustible treasure in heaven. The one who clings to the promise of eternal life experiences tremendous freedom and begins to taste here below a taste of the world to come. The generous person is filled with hope and lives, not as a prisoner of this world but as a pilgrim passing through. Last week, Fr. Patrick mentioned in the bulletin that he was looking for someone who might want to donate to our new youth ministry projects. Immediately, various parishioners responded. That kind of prompt and joyful generosity is a sign of the kingdom among us. I’m sure people who are generous don’t often think about how their generosity points others to heaven, but I want to thank all of you who live and serve among us as examples of generosity. You visit the sick, feed the poor, knit and pray for those who feel the need for comfort, you serve the parish on Sundays, contribute to the needs of the parish, lend an ear to the lonely, and give of your time, your treasure, and your talent. You are generous in offering a kind word or a helping hand. You live in gratitude for what you’ve been given and you give joyfully. You store up treasure in heaven, and by doing so, you become a sign to the rest of us, pointing us to heaven. We are very blessed to be surrounded by such generous examples. Now, a few miscellaneous matters: August 15th is the Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary. It is a Holy Day of Obligation. Don’t forget! This is the last weekend that John Manning, our seminarian, will be with us. I am happy that John will be here a few hours each week during the school year, but not on Sundays, so many of you won’t see him. We were (and will continue to be) very happy to have John with us. Most importantly, pray for John, that the Lord continue to strengthen him in his vocation. Please wish him well as you leave Masses this weekend. Last week, I had Mass at LifeCare, which is a local nursing and rehabilitation center. We have Mass there every month. As I distributed Holy Communion, I was really moved by the privilege it is to be a priest and by the faith of these parishioners of ours. To all of our parishioners who are homebound or in various care facilities, I want you to know that you are a vital part of our parish. I have no doubt that your prayers and sufferings are a source of incredible graces for our parish and for the Church and the world. I have no doubt that your generosity in offering your physical sufferings, your loneliness, and your prayers is drawing many souls into the kingdom. We are grateful for you and we love you. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes

The month of August (which has snuck upon us) is filled with some wonderful feast days. Chief among them, of course, is August 15th, the Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary. During August we also celebrate the Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord, the Memorial of the Queenship of Mary, and the Memorial of the Beheading of St. John the Baptist. Scattered throughout the month are also the feast days of many wonderful priest saints such as St. Alphonsus, St. Peter Julian Eymard, St. Dominic, Pope St. Pius X, Bernard of Clairveaux, St. Augustine, St. John Eudes, and St. Maximilian Kolbe. On August 4th, the Church celebrates the feast of the patron saint of parish priests, St. Jean Baptiste Marie Vianney (often referred to as St. John Vianney). The Church’s calendar has always been for me a way of entering into prayer and the sacred mysteries. It helps me to see my life as part of something bigger than myself and to see that time is sanctified. We do not “make it up as we go along,” but rather we enter into the mysteries. The liturgical seasons, the feasts of saints, and the Mysteries of our Lord’s life, Passion, Resurrection, and Ascension help us to make sense of our life here and now. They shine light upon our life here and now and they provide points of access into the Sacred. August, particularly known for its many feasts of saintly priests, provides priests an opportunity to ponder their own vocation, to be renewed in their pastoral ministry, and to seek the intercession of their saintly models. For me, August provides me an opportunity to reflect upon my own priestly ministry here at St. Patrick Parish. It was two years ago in August that the Cardinal assigned me here. First–on the Feast of St. Maximilian Kolbe–as Administrator, and then, on the Feast of the Beheading of St. John the Baptist, as Pastor. Both of them suffered rather gruesome martyrdoms, so I was hoping that these were not indications of how things would go for me in this assignment! I tend to think that there is not one particular reason for these particular patrons to be given to me, but rather they are given to me as heavenly friends to help me to see whatever it is that the Lord wants from me at a given moment. One thing that strikes me this year about these two patrons is that they both bore witness to the family and died for the sake of the family. John the Baptist died defending marriage and Maximilian Kolbe offered himself as a replacement for a Jewish husband and father who had been selected for execution in a Nazi concentration camp. In addition to wanting to help in building up and strengthening individual marriages and families, this August, I ask the Lord for the grace to be more dedicated to our parish family, shepherding it well, being a faithful father. I’d appreciate your prayers in this regard. I pray for you every day and am grateful whenever someone tells me that they are praying for me. I am very grateful to be the parish priest of this parish family. A couple of weeks ago, some friends of mine from a previous parish came for Mass here and we had dinner together afterwards. They commented on how friendly and welcoming you all were. A week later, a young family I know from when I was at BU showed up for Sunday Mass and we had breakfast afterwards. They too commented on how friendly and welcoming you all were. That is also my experience and the experience of the priests and seminarians assigned here. I’ve heard priests over the years feel run down by criticism, negativity, and continuous complaints. I always feel bad about that. I know that I speak for the priests and seminarians assigned here that we are grateful for your constant kindness, support, and love. We are grateful to be part of this family. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes

When I was assigned to the Catholic Center at Boston University, I was always struck by what you might call the “evangelical ingenuity” of the college men and women at the Catholic Center. In a particular way, at the beginning of each year, the students there would put together a host of events–trips for cannolis in the North End, a barbecue, ultimate frisbee night, game night, and other similar events. The events were intended to be inviting and to be a way for new students to ease their way into a community. It’s obviously a lot easier to do that on a college campus than in a parish. On a college campus, the kids are in classes with one another, living in the same dorms together, and eating in the same dining halls. It’s amazing how many kids you could meet simply by tossing around a frisbee and handing out free freeze-pops! Parish life is a little more complicated in this regard. At the same time, we too want to provide opportunities for people to encounter Christ. We want to provide moments where it is possible for someone to “ease in” to Catholic life. Or, if they are already somewhat involved, to ease them into a deeper Catholic life. I think of the encounter that John and Andrew had with the Lord when Jesus asked them, “What are you looking for?” Their somewhat clumsy response was, “Master, where do you stay?” Jesus did not then provide them a list of prayers to say or a list of do’s and don’ts, instead he said, “Come and see.” In so many ways, this seems to me to be the model for evangelization. The Lord invites them to go deeper. He invites them to come and experience His friendship, His Presence. He eases them into a relationship with Himself and invites them into something attractive and wonderful. On a parish level, I am impressed by how many opportunities there are for people to ease into a deeper relationship with the Lord. There are groups that attend to those who are grieving the loss of loved ones and groups that attend to those experiencing separation and divorce. There are groups that bring people together to serve the poor, a group for young couples and families, a group of men and women who are leaders in our emerging youth ministry program, prayer groups, the Thursday night bible study, a women’s bible study, a men’s group, and during the summer, a small group that watches and discusses, “The Chosen” together. There are also now small groups of high school students meeting together with mentors to help them to encounter the joy and depth of Catholic life. These “official” groups are not the only way. I am always happy to hear how other parishioners meet up with one another after Mass for coffee or who check in on one another during the week. All of these groups are intended to draw one another into deeper communion with one another and with the Lord. The Lord is inviting everyone into a deeper friendship with Himself. He is inviting all of us to, “Come and See.” One thing I deeply admired about the young college students was their passion for evangelization and their love for their fellow students. I also admired their capacity to find ways to ease others in. They hung out with others and invited them to come and share a meal or a cup of coffee. They showed others that they cared about them and they showed themselves to be, in fact, normal and fun human beings. These friendships eventually would lead–slowly–to deeper conversations and invitations to, “Come and See.” In the gospels we read how Jesus would visit the home of Lazarus, Martha, and Mary and share meals and friendship together. This is the Lord’s method. The college students adopted this method as their own. Friendship is a key to evangelizing. In the friendship of the Church, we come to encounter the deeper life that the Lord desires for us. We come to experience communion. The Eucharist–Holy Communion–is both the source and the summit of true communion. The Eucharist not only deepens our own communion with the Lord and with each other, but it also impels us–out of love–to invite all others to “come and see” this new way of life, this new way of being. Not everyone is yet ready to partake of the Eucharist, but our desire should be to–little by little–help them experience friendship in the Lord. And ease them–little by little–into full communion in the Church, until they too are nourished by the Lord’s Body and Blood, the summit of communion. During the summer months, I have had lots of opportunities to be with friends–both lay people and priests–whose friendship deepens my own humanity and leads me to a deeper friendship with the Lord. In my own life, I have discovered that simply living the Catholic life in friendship with others has a magnetic power to draw others more deeply into deeper communion with the Lord. When we love one another in the Lord, those friendships contain within themselves an attractive quality that themselves become a visible invitation to others to “come and see.” My prayer is that our communion together as a parish might be for all we encounter, a call, a plea, and an invitation to “come and see.” Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes