Loving God is a Beautiful Thing

I often say that I grew up at the very end of a particular era. We lived right around the corner from the parish church, the rectory that housed five priests, the convent filled with nuns, and the school that my brothers and I attended. When it snowed, we would help shovel out the parish. During the blizzard of ‘78, my mother sent my older brothers with their sleds to help the sisters bring back the bundles from the supermarket. We were altar boys, sang in the choir, and when we were older, were in the CYO. Our whole life revolved around the parish. Our friends were from the parish. Our parents’ friends were from the parish. It really was our whole life. When we went out to play, it was with friends from the parish. When we got into fights, it was with kids from the parish. When we got in trouble, it was someone from the parish who caught us. I am always grateful for that experience. It was a real sense of community. We were bound together. Back then, maybe because we were just kids or maybe because life was different then, it didn’t seem to take much effort for us all to be bound together in community. It was just the way it was. If you lived in North Quincy, you belonged to Sacred Heart. That’s just how it was. Today, belonging to a community takes a lot more effort. In a mobile and digital society, real belonging takes commitment. Social media attempts to provide people with a feeling of belonging, but somehow makes them feel more isolated. It creates a facade of community, but lacks the give and take of real life. In a digital world, it is easy to escape from reality and to escape from true belonging. We might think that this is true only of young people, but it is not limited to them. How many people have disappeared from real community life? They are glued to screens; gambling away their money, scrolling through photos, buying useless products that they neither need nor will actually use, addicted to pornography, obsessed by news and tragedies, in a constant state of anger. So many people have been sucked out of reality and into an empty world. Extracting themselves from this abyss of emptiness feels impossible to them. The worst part of it is that so many Catholics have disappeared into this emptiness and have given up the very Bread of Life. It is terribly sad to see people–especially towards the end of their lives–let go of Christ and disappear into nothingness. They are lulled into a spiritual coma where they think they can live without the Eucharist, without confession, without God. They might not say it, but that is how they are living. Nobody wakes up old and decides to live this way. It happens gradually. They stop praying daily. They don’t go to confession for long periods of time. They withdraw from the Sunday Mass. And step by step, they disappear from life. All of us have an opportunity to rescue people from this prelude to hell. We do that by committing ourselves to the life of our parish community here and now. In doing so, we provide young people the opportunity to experience what a true, life-giving community is. I know parents have a lot on their plates, but I just want to encourage parents in modeling the Faith to their children. Their eternity is being worked out here and now. They need you to raise them in the Faith. Don’t let them down. As far as parishioners who are homebound, I urge family members and friends to keep these folks from disappearing. No one should presume that someone who is homebound is no longer in need of spiritual nourishment, growth, and the Sacraments. It is just the opposite. These people are entering into the last years of their lives and NEED spiritual care. I am touched by the devotion shown by many of our parishioners who reach out to the homebound and make certain that they receive sacramental ministry. Their faith in the sacraments is really edifying. If you disappear from social media, nobody really notices. And, truth to be told, it makes no real difference. If someone disappears from the Church–by effectively living as though God no longer matters–it is a tragedy of the highest order. If you are at Mass each week, but feel yourself getting sucked into the abyss, do something about it. Become more involved in the life of the parish. If you are homebound and living your whole life on social media, television, and home shopping networks, reach out to us. We will do our best to provide some regular spiritual care and the sacraments. All of us clinging together to Jesus, to the Eucharist, to the Mass, and to our life together–this is how we are saved from that terrible abyss of nothingness that seems intent on swallowing us up. Together in Christ, we live REAL life. Together in Christ, we live eternal life. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes

I do not know if it was New Year’s resolutions or what, but the Masses last weekend were happily crowded! If you happen to be someone who is just getting back into the swing of things, welcome home! I remember when I belonged to a gym (and actually went!), the very beginning of January would be a mob scene, but would quickly return to normal within a week. If you’re trying to make Mass a part of your life again, be faithful to it for two months. That’s a good amount of time to form a good habit. Then, it gets easier. Remember also that the urge you had to return to Mass is itself a grace from God, so you are not doing this alone. He is giving you His help. I mentioned last week at the Noon Mass how encouraged I am by seeing you all at Mass. St. Paul tells us that we should encourage one another and build each other up. When I look out from the altar and see all of you praying together, helping one another, and living lives of faith, I really am so encouraged. Your presence makes me want to be a holier man, a better priest, and a more faithful disciple of the Lord. In each of your hearts there is a remarkable drama taking place. The Lord Jesus is calling you, drawing you out into the deep life of faith, and immersing you more fully into His Saving Passion, Death, and Resurrection. When I look out and see you, that is what I see, and it fills my heart with a deep affection for you. This Drama of Salvation sometimes gets forgotten by us. We get distracted. We focus on “what needs to get done,” but we forget that all of the other things in life—our families, our work, our obligations, our hobbies, our politics etc.—are all taking place within something much greater, the Drama of our being disciples of Jesus Christ. Every so often, I realize that this can be true even of parish life. In a big parish like ours, it is true that things have to get done. Sometimes, however, we go through the motions, doing the work, doing the same things etc., but forgetting the “why.” A lot of time and energy in parish life can be spent “doing things” because "we have always done them like this," but we forget that the reason we should do anything at all as a parish is in order to form lifelong disciples of Jesus Christ. When Jesus called his first disciples, he spent time with them. They lived a friendship together. It was through this small, intimate friendship that he taught them and formed them. This method is still the method. I see the fruits of this method in the life of our parish. The other evening some members of the young couples and family group had a small potluck supper. It wasn’t huge, but it was beautiful. In the simplicity of that meal together, Christ was forming them and meeting them. I won’t list them all out, but there are various small groups—both official and unofficial—of which many of you are a part. Through these small friendships and companionships, Christ is forming you into his disciples. Do I love a crowded Sunday Mass? Absolutely! When I see the crowds, however, I also see how important and formative small groups are in the parish. In these intentional communities people become more attracted to Christ and the desire to remain with Him deepens within them. In these small friendships we learn from one another how to follow Christ. My hope in writing all of this today is simply to put in front of all of us the reason we exist as a parish. It is to form lifelong disciples of Jesus Christ. It might seem like that is totally obvious, but it feels like we somehow lose sight of it at times. I want to commit myself to making every aspect of our life as a parish centered on that mission. I’d be happy if you would join me in that. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes

During one of the two wedding Masses I had on New Year’s Eve, I happened to glance over at the couple and saw them singing the responsorial psalm together, “May God bless us in his mercy.” For me, it was touching to see this couple–this new family– beginning a new life together, kneeling before the manger, and asking God to “bless us in his mercy.” The next day I felt so deeply moved by our being all together on New Years Day at the Noon Mass. Often on Holy Days, we offer multiple Masses so that those who work can find a convenient Mass. On New Years, almost everybody can make it to the Noon (and if not, there are plenty of options in neighboring parishes). What I like about that New Year’s Mass is being all together as one family, beginning a new year together. Communion seemed to go on forever! There is also something very beautiful about being in a full church and worshiping God together. We–a parish family–were all together and praying, “May God bless us in his mercy.” On Epiphany at the Ten, we blessed chalk and provided prayers for everyone to go home and bless their door for the New Year. (I think next year, we will bless chalk at all the Masses). After the Ten–thanks to the goodness of volunteers–we had coffee and doughnuts and it was great to see parishioners spending time with one another. Being together is important. During this season, the priests at the rectory have hosted dinners for the priests in our area and for some of our priest friends. It is good and necessary for priests to spend time together and grow in our priestly fraternity and in holiness. We also hosted dinner for our high school youth ministry team. In all of those instances, it was good to be together, to deepen our friendship, and to grow in faith together. It is good to be together. I really love Christmastime, but the calendar is telling me that just 4 ½ weeks from today, we begin Lent! If I ever become Pope, I’m going to lengthen Advent and shorten Lent! Until then, however, Lent is coming! (When I was chaplain at the Boston University Catholic Center, I apparently said, “Lent is coming,” so often that the kids would post various memes of me saying that.) Even though we are just ending Christmas, we are preparing for Lent as a parish. Like we did last year, we will add an evening Mass Monday thru Friday at 6:00pm during Lent. I am also happy to report that Archbishop Henning is scheduled to visit us on Sunday March 22nd and to offer the Noon Mass that day! Speaking of planning (way) ahead, Fr. Bobby LeBlanc and I will be leading a pilgrimage to the Holy Land from April 5-15, 2027. So that is over a year away, but wanted to give you a heads up. I visited the Holy Land once before and it was an absolutely amazing experience. I hope that some of you might join us! Many times over these past few weeks, I felt like my heart was going to burst because of how much the Lord has blessed us in bringing us together, keeping us together, and drawing others into this life that we share together. Your faith, your love, your generosity, and your goodness are all signs to me of God’s mercy and love. As we begin this new year together, we do so with simplicity and with humility. May God bless us in his mercy. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes

Happy Epiphany! Unlike the commercialized world that spends zero time preparing for Christmas and instead begins playing “holiday” music incessantly from November on, but then rushes to be done with Christmas by December 26th, the Church has spent four beautiful weeks preparing for the Lord’s Birth. The Liturgy–through its Advent readings, prayers, and hymns–opened our hearts to recognize our deep longing for God, our need for salvation. The need to prepare is so vital to the spiritual life. How did we begin preparing for Christmas? It was with the lighting of one solitary candle on the First Sunday of Advent. Gradually, one candle at a time, the darkness yielded to the light that is coming into the world. Like a couple awaiting the birth of any child, the time of preparation–the time of waiting and anticipation–is itself part of the joy. And now that the great event has taken place, the Church does not rush to be done with it. She needs time to stand before the Mystery and contemplate the great thing that has taken place. It is too awesome a Mystery to limit to a few hours. Instead, the Church invites us to ponder with Mary all that has taken place. There are so many beautiful things from today’s Feast that could help us enter into the Mystery of Christmas with greater fruitfulness. Without saying much about any of them, I just want to propose a few aspects of today’s Feast that might provide us with a more profound encounter with God. The Magi were looking up when they discovered the star. They were responsive to Revelation. They saw something and they followed. They sacrificed in order to follow the Truth. They lived their life as a journey toward Truth. They worshipped Christ. They fell down in homage before him. They opened their treasures (their hearts to Him). They found Him with Mary, His Mother. They went home a different way. They were changed by the event. The Magi did not return to Herod. Sometimes in life, we have to have the freedom to go home a different way. Our life together as a parish community can follow that same pattern. Together, we can look out from ourselves in humility to see what the Lord wants to show us. We are invited to respond to His Revelation and to follow where He leads us. We are called to follow in Faith even when it costs us; to be moved by joy. We are called to worship Christ, to fall down before Him in Love and in humility, and to open our hearts to Him. We discover Christ always with Mary, His Mother. And, we are changed by this encounter. We need not return to our former ways of living or our former habits. We can engage the world and our adversaries in a freer way because of our encounter with Christ. We do not need to be dragged into every battle. Sometimes, we can just go home a different way. What the Lord did for the Magi in ages past, he does for us here and now in our Catholic life together. I am grateful to the Lord that somehow, each of us has been given some sign and has chosen to follow that sign to this place. And together, we discover Christ here in this place and, like the Magi, are overjoyed. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes

Recently I woke up at what I thought was 5:30am. When it turned out that it was only 12:30am, and I knew that I definitely was not falling back to sleep, I spent the next four hours listening to an audio book entitled, “Vipers’ Tangle” by François Mauriac. Written in 1932, the book is almost entirely in the form of a letter penned by an angry and bitter man to his estranged wife. For almost all of their married life, there has been a simmering hatred that spills over into the lives of their children and grandchildren. Envies, greed, and resentments have poisoned the entire family. As the letter progresses, it becomes clear that there is a battle occurring for the soul of the protagonist. Are hatreds and resentments set in stone? Is it possible to be changed? In many ways, he has lived his life fulfilling the expectations of the role assigned to him by everyone. He was considered to be a miserly and hateful man. Because everyone treated him in this way, the more he “dug in” to be that way. He also realizes that he too has done the same to others. He has observed some fault or weakness in that family member and reduced the person to that one trait or characteristic. He–and his family members–never give one another the benefit of the doubt. They ascribe nefarious intentions to every act of each other. Hatred, rivalry, suspicion, and antagonism become a way of life for all of them. Although all of us know how a family ought to be, we also know that our families are made up of imperfect people who live through imperfect situations. One of the beautiful aspects of the “Vipers’ Tangle” is that the main character moves from the recognition that he is the way he is–in part–because of the ways that others have treated him, to realizing that others in his family are the way they are because of how he has treated them. All of us can have a tendency to identify the fault or failure of another and then define the other by that fault or failure. None of us would particularly care to be identified by our worst moment in life. Yet, we are often all too willing to define others by their worst moment. We are often all too easily willing to attribute nefarious motives to those with whom we have difficulty. There was a great line in the book that said (and I am liberally paraphrasing), “We attribute lofty intentions to people whose real motives are much baser.” In other words, when someone doesn’t wish you a happy birthday, it is more likely because they are absent-minded and forgetful rather than they have devised a sinister plot to make you feel awful on your birthday. So many people feel locked into terrible family situations. They feel as though they are compelled to play a certain role. “I’m the rebellious one, so I have to live forever in rebellion.” “I’m the angry one, so I have to be angry.” “I’m the marshmallow, so I can never stand up for what is right.” “I am the failure, so I have to live up to being the failure.” In “Vipers’ Tangle” grace begins imperceptibly to do its work. We begin to see that wherever the door is opened to Christ, something beautiful can happen. Sin, brokenness, resentments, hardened hearts all dissolve before the beauty of the Christ Child. The tangle of vipers that can take up residence in the human heart and in so many familial situations has no power wherever the Christ Child is welcomed. The character in the book clung to money, resentments, and a prideful image of himself. It was only when he was willing to let go of these and cling to Christ that he was set free. Today, as we look into the manger, let us resolve to let go of all the bitterness, resentments, prides, lusts, envies, avarices, gluttonies, and rash judgments that we cling to and instead take the Christ Child into our arms. When we embrace Him, evil melts away. (Apologies if you wind up hearing some of the above in a homily on Christmas or on Holy Family! I had to write this a couple of weeks ago and may decide to use it in a homily.) Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes