Chances are, if you asked most people to recite the Ten Commandments, they would struggle to do so. I’m willing to bet that, if asked to name them, most would probably begin with, “Uhm . . . thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not commit adultery” . . . and then would maybe get one or two more. (I bet some of you reading this are testing yourselves right now!) I wonder how many would remember the Third Commandment: “Keep Holy the Sabbath?” It’s quite amazing that in this very brief list of serious commandments, even before we get to murder and adultery, is the commandment to keep holy the Sabbath. That fact should alert us all to the seriousness with which God takes that command. God provided Moses with ten commandments and among these, he chose to include the command to keep holy the Sabbath. For two thousand years, Christians have celebrated our Sabbath on the Lord’s Day, Sunday. Since the earliest days of Christianity, Christians gathered together to celebrate the Mass. Many–during persecutions–risked or gave up their lives in order to be present at Mass. Believers feel deeply the responsibility and the joy of keeping the Lord’s Day. In fact, it is a grave obligation for every Catholic to participate in the Mass each Sunday. There are occasions when one is excused from the obligation of attending Sunday Mass. Illness, danger due to weather, attending to the care of someone who is sick, mothers attending to a newborn, and similar situations are examples. Golf, lacrosse practice, or a dance recital are not. There is no commandment that says to keep holy dance class or lacrosse practice. I mention all of this mostly because last weekend I felt such enormous gratitude for all of you. There was a big storm coming. We were bombarded with reports of the impending storm all week. What could have happened? Well, you could have allowed that atmosphere of chaos to affect your judgment and draw you away from fulfilling the Lord’s commandment. But, what actually happened? So many of you rearranged your schedules in order to come to an earlier Mass. You prioritized Mass over everything else. You truly kept the Lord’s Day holy. I thought perhaps confessions last Saturday would be low because everyone was distracted by the impending storm. Instead, they were full as usual. You gave God your best. God not only gives us commandments. He also gives us the grace necessary to live those commandments. So, last week, God gave you all some great graces. Did you squander them? Did you reject them? Did you turn your back on them? Nope. You accepted those graces and you did something so pleasing to the Lord. You came and worshipped Him at Mass. In doing so, you also provided a solid example to others (including me). Seeing all of you faithfully keeping the Lord’s Day last week was a real sign to me that God’s grace is at work in you. Many of you probably think, “Of course I went to Mass. I would never miss it.” Others might be thinking, “I thought about not going, but I still went.” In doing so, you all loved God. What a beautiful thing. Thank you for your beautiful witness of faith and for your love for God. When we love God, He pours out even more blessings upon us. So, by loving God last week, you not only won great graces for yourself, but you also undoubtedly won great graces for the whole parish. Your love for God is truly beautiful and I am grateful to witness it. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes

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