Living the Catholic Life

I once knew a couple who had been married for over seventy years. Some people would say, “They’ve been together so long, they even look like each other!” They came to Mass together every day, and I was always struck by the way they looked at one another. If one of them was speaking to me, the other was looking at the other with this glow of absolute affection. They were something else. They weren’t rich. They weren’t powerful. They were, however, in love. As old as they were, when you looked at them, you felt like they were still a couple of love-struck kids during their first week of dating. I am certain that in seventy years of marriage, that couple had its share of sorrows, hardships, and disappointments. Every life does. There was routine to their marriage. They got up and went to work, did laundry, and did all of the mundane activities that fill the hours of most of our lives. The ordinary did not suffocate their vocation. Instead, they lived the ordinary circumstances of life as an adventure. Sometimes, we think that the ordinary is the enemy of our happiness. People search for thrills to distract themselves from the ordinary. But, happiness is not found in fleeing the ordinary. It is discovered in living the ordinary differently. They lived the ordinary in a supernatural way. Every Sunday we come together for Mass. We are fairly ordinary people. We come together from our ordinary lives. We take ordinary bread and ordinary wine and place them upon the altar. In some sense, when the ordinary bread and the ordinary wine are placed upon the altar, we are also placing our ordinary selves–our ordinary lives–upon the altar too. The danger for us, however, is to allow ourselves to forget that what is happening is supernatural. That ordinary bread and wine are supernaturally transformed. We who receive the Eucharist are, in turn, transformed. The Eucharist transforms us and we, in turn, live our ordinary lives differently because we do not live on mere ordinary bread, but rather are nourished by and with God Himself. We who are changed are then sent into the world as seeds of the Kingdom. There’s a risk in Catholic life that instead of allowing the extraordinary to permeate the ordinary and elevate it, we attempt to make the extraordinary ordinary and cheapen it. If Mass, for example, becomes merely me “checking the box” of my religious duty this week, then something is lacking. If my approach to Mass is, “as long as it doesn’t interfere with the other things in my life, I’m okay with it,” something is missing. If I treat the Mass (and the Eucharist) like I am the customer and the parish is the service-provider, something is missing. Sometimes people allow their Catholic life to become rather functionary and transactional. It becomes stagnant. Think of what Jesus says in the gospel when he says, “What good is salt if it loses its flavor?” Much of our lives as Catholics does involve rather ordinary activity. When we come to Mass on Sunday, something extraordinary–something supernatural–occurs. Ordinary bread and wine become the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Christ. And, we consume the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Christ. We receive God. The more we take time to ponder our Faith, the more we come to know and appreciate the extraordinary gift of it. This is why preparing for Mass by silence, prayer, and meditation are so important. Before Mass, we prepare by saying things like, “Lord, I am here and am about to receive you–Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity. Jesus, help me to really know what I am doing and Who I am receiving. Help me unite myself to you in this Holy Mass. Help me to really pray this Mass well and to offer myself–every aspect of my life–with you to the Father.” After we receive Holy Communion, we spend time in awe and wonder that God loves us so much that He has given Himself to us in this spectacular way. The Christ who was born of Mary, the Christ who called and taught the apostles, who healed the sick, who forgave sinners, who died on the Cross, who rose from the Dead . . . that very same Christ has now given Himself entirely to me because He loves me. We take this time to thank Jesus for His love and for the privilege of this communion with Him. Without this Eucharistic amazement, our Catholic life risks becoming consumeristic and hollow. If you feel ever that you are in a rut or that your Faith life is not growing, that you are not growing in virtue, growing in greater love for God and for your neighbor, perhaps begin by spending time before each Mass really praying and pondering what is about to happen, and then, spend time after receiving the Eucharist really adoring God whom you have received. The most extraordinary moment of our week (or day) is when we receive the Eucharist. It enables us to live every ordinary moment in a supernatural way. That elderly couple looked at each other with a devotion and love that made them young in heart and their marriage seem both like an old treasure and a new discovery. That is how we want to approach the Eucharist, and that begins by spending time preparing to receive the Eucharist and in spending time thanking God for the gift of the Eucharist. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes

Some years ago in a previous parish, I moved a crucifix that had hung for a century on a piece of beautiful fabric in the church sacristy. When I took down the crucifix, I was surprised to see the real color of the fabric. Decades of sunlight, heat, and incense had caused the surrounding fabric to fade, but behind the crucifix, the real rich color had been preserved. Sometimes when we go about our life we do not realize just how significantly we are affected by the culture around us. Like the fabric in that sacristy, the change is not always immediately perceptible. It is gradual. We live at a time when the culture around us has changed dramatically. Things that would have been universally condemned sixty (or even ten) years ago, are now widely accepted. Things that would have been universally acknowledged as good sixty (or even ten) years ago, might now be looked upon with suspicion or derision. (I should add that there are many wonderful things about the present culture that we should rejoice in, but today I am focused upon those things that erode our own humanity.) The disintegration of the family, the ubiquity of pornography, the presumption of cohabitation before marriage, the acceptance and promotion of abortion, and a host of other factors have left their mark on our culture. Similarly, the culture of, what I might call, harshness has become the new normal. Social media often makes people forget the humanity of others. People are told that they should be perpetually angry about everything. It affects the way that people communicate with one another. This harshness dehumanizes the person on the other end of the phone or on the receiving end of an email. In the midst of all of this, the Church remains steadfast in its defense of the human person. In our present moment, governments are opting to allow the killing of the sick. The Church stands in absolute opposition to this because Jesus tells us to visit and care for the sick, not eliminate them. It is a grotesque distortion to call the killing of the sick a form of mercy. The Catechism of the Catholic Church reminds us that:  “Scripture specifies the prohibition contained in the fifth commandment: ‘Do not slay the innocent and the righteous.’ The deliberate murder of an innocent person is gravely contrary to the dignity of the human being, to the golden rule, and to the holiness of the Creator. The law forbidding it is universally valid: it obliges each and everyone, always and everywhere.” In a culture where it is becoming increasingly acceptable to think that suicide and euthanasia are legitimate options, it is good for us to remember that the Fifth Commandment absolutely prohibits them. Those who suffer from physical ailments, old age, or from mental anguish must never be encouraged to think “it would be better for everyone else if I’m not here.” As Christians, we cherish human life and do not determine for ourselves which lives are worth living. Another topic I want to mention (and yes, I know it is a political third rail these days) is the issue of the treatment of people present in our country whose legal status is questionable. Every country has a right to establish and enforce laws that regulate immigration. Reasonable people may disagree on what those laws should entail and how they should be enforced. My purpose in writing here is not to impose on anyone else my opinions on how the immigration situation should be resolved in its specifics. Rather, I want simply to mention that in our culture, there can be a tendency to dehumanize immigrants. Many people who entered the country unlawfully did so to escape violence and poverty, and to make a better life for their families. I cannot help but think how terrifying it must be for a man or a woman who is raising a family to wonder if they will be suddenly arrested one day. In a culture that tends to demonize people and dehumanize them, Christians are called to love them and to promote their human dignity. When we are at Mass, none of us looks around and thinks, “I will love that family over there once I know their immigration status.” In the same way that none of us looks around and thinks, “I will love that family over there once I know if they’ve been completely honest each time they’ve filed their taxes.” We love them because they are made in the image and likeness of God and are our brothers and sisters in Christ. A Christian culture–when it saw human suffering–built orphanages, hospitals, adoption agencies, soup kitchens, mutual aid societies, St. Vincent dePaul Societies, homeless shelters and so on. In a culture where Christianity is fading, so is the dignity afforded to human life. We live at a moment when the unborn, the poor, the infirm, the immigrant etc. are often viewed as problems to be eradicated rather than human beings to be loved and protected. What can we do? We can live in the midst of our culture as disciples of Jesus Christ. We can place ourselves firmly in the shadow of His Cross. We can live as a sign of contradiction. In the midst of a culture that increasingly devalues human life and dignity, we can be true disciples of the Lord who radiate His love to all, especially to the vulnerable and the suffering. Decades of intense light, dirt, and heat eroded the brilliance of that piece of fabric, but behind the image of the Crucified Christ, its glory was preserved. At the moment, cultural forces can cause the brilliant dignity of human life to become less apparent. Without Christ, the world tends to become gray, cold, and harsh. It is only in Christ that the full dignity and beauty of life is truly discovered. The more we live in Christ and follow Him, the more we become in a faded world a sign of contradiction and a witness to hope. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes

There are certain kinds of conversations that I had more patience for when I was younger. I describe them as the “drunk philosopher” kind of conversation. The image I have in mind is standing at a bar with someone who has had way too much to drink. They begin to say nonsensical things as though they were the most profound utterances ever made by a human being. A good example might be when they say something like, “Well, who is to say that we are really here now talking with one another? Maybe this isn’t actually happening.” Usually, words like this are spoken with a self-satisfying nod and an attitude of intellectual superiority. At a certain age you realize that debating an inebriated person who questions whether we are even having a conversation is not really a fruitful use of time. In fact, the person has given you the best out possible. If this conversation isn’t actually happening, then it’s not rude for me to walk away from it! The “drunk philosopher” syndrome is not isolated to late-night barrooms. It happens even among the sober. It happens in an educational style that is deconstructive. It happens, for example, when a young person goes off to high school or college and some teacher basically says, “Well, you’ve been taught all of these things by your parents, but all of those things are wrong.” The problem with this is that rarely do those persons ever help the young person to make sense of life in any comprehensible way. Instead, they basically say, “Well, you really can’t know anything. You can’t know what is good and evil. You can’t even know if you are a boy or a girl. There is no cohesiveness to life. It is all just random, arbitrary, and ambiguous. Have a nice life. And please spend the next decade paying off the debt you incurred so that I could tell you that you can’t know anything.” This kind of glibness can also be present in a certain elitist form of theology. Some who consider themselves “on the cutting edge” fancy themselves as too clever to accept or believe what previous generations of Christians held and believed. They like to disrupt the placid faith of others and inject doubt. It is almost always presented with condescension. “I am one of the enlightened ones who really knows.” The pure faith of a believer is treated as quaint, but foolish and uneducated. When I was younger, such things really irritated me. I think it mostly irritated me because it always seemed to come from people who ought to know better. I think it also irritated me because the person usually looking down upon the pure Catholic faith of others often would sound like the drunk philosopher who thought himself to be a shining light of intellectual genius. As I get older, it does still annoy me to see someone attempt to undermine the placid faith of another (especially the young), but the fact is only the truth has grace. When we see someone who lives out of a pure faith, it is far more convincing than all of the pseudo-intellectualism of the deconstructionist. Just a couple of examples. Last week at one of our Masses, there were all of these infants! The presence of these young families is a far more powerful testimony to the truth of what the Catholic Church teaches and believes than any damage that can be inflicted by those who seek to sow doubt. When you see those families, your heart knows you are seeing something true. Similarly, at that same Mass, I watched one of our parishioners in her nineties make her way up the stairs to the church. I’m sure it wouldn’t even occur to her that her example confirms others in the faith, but it does. You look at her fidelity (and the fidelity of so many others) and you think, “That’s what I want to be because I know that is true!” The first reason we attend Mass on Sunday is to fulfill our obligation to offer God the worship to which He is due. This worship of God, however, adds nothing to His greatness. It does, however, benefit us in all sorts of ways. One thing it does for us is to strengthen our own Faith. Chances are, we spend most of our lives surrounded by “drunk philosophers.” Whether it is in our jobs, on our computers and phones, in the media, or in the culture around us, we are bombarded by unserious ideologies that relentlessly oppose the Truth. The Sunday Mass becomes a place where our confidence in the Truth and in the Faith are restored and strengthened. In the witness of those who surround us, in the beauty of their lives and in the purity of their example, our confidence in the Faith is restored. In the faces of those who surround us, our inner peace and faith are strengthened so that we can say with ever firmer hearts, “I believe.” Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes

This week, just some scattered thoughts: On Tuesday I attended the end-of-the-year celebrations for the preschool children at St. Patrick School. There was a lot of singing, dancing, and pure joy. As I write this, I am still smiling. I mentioned at one of the Masses last week that there are a lot of necessary repairs on our horizon. Last week a coil on one of our air conditioner units broke. The replacement cost of the coil is $11,000. At this point, we are trying to determine whether to fix the coil or replace the whole unit because the unit (like all of our units) is over twenty years old. We signed a contract last month to replace the system controls for the building. That is over $100,000. We are looking into repairing the front steps of the church. They look (and actually are) in terrible condition. It kills me to have to spend money on stairs that never get used, but there really isn’t an alternative. There are lots of other projects needed too. I just want to keep you in the loop. There is a group of women who every week get together here and knit prayer shawls and lap blankets. Besides being a wonderful group of women, their prayer and kindness is deeply appreciated by so many people who receive those shawls and blankets. For people who are experiencing illness, loneliness, or some other suffering, it is a great consolation to them to realize that their parish was thinking about them and praying for them. I know that this small gesture of kindness can be like a ray of light entering into what was dark, burdensome, and lonely. I just want to say “Thank You,” to these agents of mercy. St. Patrick Parish has had a long history of very generous donors. The generosity of the parishioners who came before us enables us to have the parish that we have. Many parishioners in the past have remembered St. Patrick Parish in their wills. Please consider remembering St. Patrick Parish in your will. But, you don’t have to wait until then to be generous!! We appreciate all of you who are so good to this parish. Thank You. Above I mentioned some nuts and bolts kind of things that we need to do to the physical plant. I also want to mention some pastoral plans. Recently I have begun discussions with an organization that trains and provides missionaries to work in parishes. The work of these lay missionaries is to form intentional disciples of the Lord and to send them out to win over new disciples. My instinct tells me that St. Patrick Parish is a ripe place for such an endeavor. For now, it is still in the “thought stage,” but please keep this intention in your prayers. We would only be able to move forward with it if we can afford it, but I think it has the possibility of adding something really unique and transformational to our parish and taking us to the next level. The other evening, I stopped into a small group bible study of a few high school men and Fr. Patrick. I cannot begin to tell you how amazing and refreshing it was to witness these young men growing in faith together, praying, and speaking from the heart. Please keep in your prayers this endeavor. Other small group bible studies for high school students will be beginning soon. Fr. Sijo’s retreat last Saturday was well-attended and, I know, helpful to many people. Blessed be God. This year we added a confession slot to our schedule on Mondays thru Fridays from 11:15-11:50am. At first, we would get one or two. I am happy to report that while rarely there are days with just two or three penitents, most days we hear a full thirty minutes of confessions. Some are parishioners and some are people who simply come here because we offer it. Many young people. It is so great! Recently someone left me a voicemail inviting me to lunch. I wrote the name and number down, but lost it! If it was you, call me back! Speaking of inviting me . . . One of the greatest joys of priesthood for me has been sitting at the dinner table of married couples and families. Just saying. I am grateful for all the Lord is doing among us. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes

He is Risen! Fifty days ago we began our celebration of Easter, and today the Easter Season comes to its culmination on the Solemnity of Pentecost. The Preface of every Mass since Easter has included the phrase, “overcome with Paschal Joy.” The Risen Lord bestows on His People, now something transitory, fleeting, or shallow. The joy he gives is abiding, sustaining, and touches us at the very depths of our soul. To be a Christian is to be overcome with Paschal Joy. Until next Easter, today is the last day the priest prays the words, “overcome with Paschal Joy” during the Preface. I will miss saying it. “We are”, however, as St. John Paul II once said, (drawing upon St. Augustine), “an Easter People and Alleluia is our song.” Although we celebrate Easter most intensely during this season, we are always an Easter People. In the midst of sorrows, sufferings, and tribulations, the Christian People are sustained by Easter Joy. We know that Christ has conquered sin and death. We know that the victory is already won. The Holy Spirit, poured out upon the Church at Pentecost, constantly reminds us of Christ’s victory. He teaches us to remain sure-footed and stable in the Truth. He breathes Divine Life into us and binds us together as one. The Holy Spirit sustains us in Easter Joy throughout our life and makes us witnesses to the world of the good news that Jesus Christ is indeed risen from the dead. Allow me to share with you some times during this past week when–here at St. Patrick Parish in Stoneham–I was overcome with Paschal Joy. Last Sunday at the Ten o’clock Mass, two children were baptized and one of them was confirmed and received First Holy Communion. After that Mass, our young couples and families group hosted coffee and doughnuts in the hall. It was so wonderful seeing so many people, young and old(er!) enjoying each other’s company. Catholics spending time with one another rather than rushing out of Mass to get on to the next thing is a sign of Christ’s Presence for me. After that, I had the Noon Mass. Not sure why, but last week, the Noon Mass was packed. It is always so much better when a Sunday Mass is filled. As I offered that Mass, I was convinced of Christ’s Presence among us. After that Mass, I went to the rectory and discovered that a toilet on the second floor overflowed down through our dining room ceiling. Yes, we live in an imperfect and fallen world! But, in the midst of that, I watched charity action. Fr. Patrick and Thien–our newly arrived seminarian–jumped into action and saved the day. Even in the midst of such unpleasantness, Christ’s Presence was evident in their charity. On Monday evening, we had a Mass and a dinner for many of our parishioners who serve in various capacities in the parish. One minute before Mass began, one of our staff said to me, “Make the Mass as long as you can because the caterer lost our order and there is no food!” Forty-five minutes later, as Mass was ending, our staff was racing into the kitchen with trays of food. They had gone to BJ’S, Anthony’s in Reading, Bacci’s, Gaetano’s, Farmland in Wakefield, and Angelo’s here in Stoneham to get whatever they could. They frantically worked to serve a full meal that they had assembled in forty-five minutes. It was unbelievable! Since I arrived here two years ago, I have been continuously struck by the charity, generosity, and organization of our parish staff. When that epic event was over, Fr. Patrick said to me, “Well, not many parishes could have pulled that off.” The staff here is a sign of Christ’s abiding Presence. (As an aside, I want to thank Anthony’s in Reading, Gaetano’s, Farm Land Bakery, Bacci’s, and Angelo’s for coming to our aid in our hour of desperation! We are so grateful to them!) On Tuesday we had a Eucharistic Procession. It was beautiful! All of the children from our school followed behind the Blessed Sacrament as we processed around outside the church, singing hymns praising the Blessed Sacrament. That is an image of what the Church is. We are a pilgrim people, following Christ through this world until we arrive in heaven. It was such a great day! The Eucharist is the abiding Presence of Christ. As I write this, Fr. Sijo is preparing his healing retreat for June 7th. The Christ who healed in the Gospels continues to heal today. He continues to dwell among us. While we will now leave the words “overcome with Paschal Joy” behind until next Easter, the Holy Spirit keeps that Paschal Joy still in our hearts. Thank you to all of you for helping me to be overcome with Paschal Joy. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes