Today is just a series of random thoughts: If you’ve tried to open either of the right hand doors to our main entrances recently, you may have thought that you were growing weak. Fear not. Recently, those doors have been fitted with a push button so that those who have difficulty opening the doors can have easier access. The left side of the double doors opens as usual. The other doors can be opened with a little extra pull or by pushing the handicapped button on the left side of the doors. After being pushed, there is a slight pause and then the right side door will open automatically. We pay approximately $1,000 dollars a week on electricity, $44,000 a year on heat, and $18,000 a year on water and sewer. Insurance is over $40,000, $108,000 is spent on maintenance of grounds and buildings, and just over $1,000,000 on salaries and benefits for our lay staff and clergy. If you do not do so already, please help us by making a weekly commitment to the parish by using our electronic giving program, weekly envelopes, or by setting up a recurring automatic payment from your bank. These methods of giving help us enormously. Don’t say, “I’ve got to do that sometime.” Do it today! Please. I imagine that for most people when they go to a hospital and see the sign that says, “Labor and Delivery,” they are reminded that there is at least one happy place in a hospital. Strange as it sounds, when I see that sign, a heavy feeling settles upon me. It’s because really the only time I ever visit there is when some tragic event has occurred. From the moment the call comes, during my drive there, walking down the halls, arriving at the doorway, I am filled with tremendous sorrow. And, that sorrow lingers for days after. I had such a call this past week. It is both a deeply painful responsibility and a beautiful and profound privilege to be called into such a situation. To be with the aggrieved in the worst moment of their life and to feel your utter incompetence and smallness before the enormity of their profound pain and sorrow places you really at the Mystery of the Cross itself. Even though it is among the most difficult things I encounter as a priest, I also recognize what an enormous privilege it is to be allowed by the Lord to be placed in those situations. I also recognize that when I am there, in a sense, we are all there together as a parish, offering spiritual closeness to those who mourn. Take a moment please to offer a prayer for that mother and father. Do you have children that you haven’t had baptized? Let’s get them baptized. Did you get married outside of the Church? Let’s work together to get that resolved. Are you a Catholic who has never been confirmed? Let’s get you confirmed. Are you a newcomer who is interested in becoming Catholic? Let’s make that happen. Don’t let these things sit on the backburner. We want to help you and your loved ones live the sacramental life. God wants this for you. While not all parishioners read the bulletin, it seems all the scam artists do. They often will find names, emails, and phone numbers and then contact people, pretending to be me. They will send emails or messages to people asking for money and gift cards. Please remember that I will never email or message you asking for gift cards or money! That is always a scam! For many people September is one of those times when they are motivated to make positive changes in their life. If you’ve been away from Mass for a while and somehow felt motivated to make another attempt at returning, welcome back. We are really happy that you are here. Don’t take your foot off the gas. Start building a solid habit by making an absolute commitment to attending Mass every Sunday for the next three months. This will engrain in you the habit of fidelity to the Mass. There will be challenges along the way. There will be Sundays when you feel like you can’t listen to another homily from me. There will be Sundays when you’re tired, unmotivated, or have a lot going on. Fight through it! Make a firm resolution that you will not miss Mass. You will never be sorry that you went to Mass. Never. If you happen to be that person who has been away and is trying to “get back,” I’m really happy for you. I am praying for you and want you to know that your being here is itself a sign that the Lord’s grace is at work in you. Not always, but the bulletin cover often relates either to the Sunday readings or to a feast day during the week or to something that I write about in this column. I usually don’t have space to provide much information, so I leave it to you to figure out! Today’s cover, however, is drawn from today’s Gospel parable. In the background, you see the first scene when the servant is begging the king for mercy. In the foreground is depicted the latter scene when he has been found out for showing no mercy to his fellow servant. I hope that you all have a great week. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes

Videos from last week’s tragic floods in Nepal stunned us. The sudden and devastating destruction of life and property was shocking. Such events, unless we are devoid of any seriousness at all, force us to reflect upon the fragility of life and the ultimate meaning of our life. Those of us who are old enough to remember the day, will undoubtedly spend time this coming week remembering and recounting to others where we were twenty-five years ago on September 11th. Besides the anger and the deep sorrow that we felt in those days, do you recall how charitable we all became towards one another? In part, wasn’t that because we were confronted by the sense that we are all, pretty much, in the same boat. We saw how fragile life is and how quickly our end can come. In that immediate aftermath we treated each other differently because we recognized that all of the things that we think matter so much really do not matter much at all. They can be taken in an instant. Several of the videos I watched this past week were taken by people standing on the tops of mountains screaming to those down below. Because of the distance, they could not be heard. Although I couldn’t see the people on top of the mountains, I imagined that they were frantically waving their arms as they yelled, hoping that the people below would see them, understand what they were saying, and flee before they were overtaken by the certain death that was rushing towards them. Those videos–and the thoughts of September 11th–make me recall this week the fact that all of us are like those people. Death is not far away from us. Whether it is from human violence, long or short illness, old age, accident, or natural catastrophe, death is nearer to us than we realize. We tend to put it out of our minds and pretend that it is “a long way off.” We know–even if only in the very back of our thoughts–that we will die, but we can sometimes live as if that were not so. I was thinking that I can live like those unsuspecting people down below who were going on with life, not knowing that death was coming. All around me, the scriptures, the Church, and even life itself are waving their arms and yelling to me to wake up and flee from the danger. Of course, none of us can ultimately escape death, but we can wake up and be ready to meet it. Even nature itself cries out to us to remember death. Soon we will be surrounded by the brilliant colors of autumn and the once-green leaves falling to the earth. Squirrels are feverishly burying food for the winter. Birds are making ready their escape. All of these stand as signs to us to prepare for our own end. Think even about our very sense of time itself. For those who remember September 11th, do you not find yourselves wondering, “How is it possible that was twenty-five years ago?” Or, think of some long-past accomplishment of ours that seemed so impressive “back then.” With the passing of years, does it not now seem far less important? Remembering death is not morbid or depressing. In fact, I would argue that twenty-five years ago this week we were all living truer lives (even if, just for a little while) because we were forced to acknowledge death. Remembering death helps us to live differently. The scriptures are filled with reminders that each of us needs to prepare for death. This preparation means to repent. It means to turn away from sin. Not just once. It means every day to remember that death is not far away and that I should be ready for it. Is that a bit somber? I suppose it is. But, it’s the truth. It’s reality. And there is good news. Remembering death opens us up to remembering the One who conquers death and can save us from the grave. Jesus is Risen and is Lord. In Christ, we need not fear death because in Him we too can be victorious. This week reminds me that I do not want to live in such a way that I am unprepared for my own death and judgment, both of which–even if they come in another fifty years–are coming a lot more quickly than I realize. We need to live every day as though it could be our last because, sooner rather than later, it will be. Jesus does not wish the sinner to die in his sin, but to turn away from sin and live. If we live a life of sincere repentance and with closeness to Jesus, our hope is secure. So yes, remember death, repent today (and tomorrow if it is given to you), and stay close to Jesus. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes