Good News of Great Joy

Nativity of the Lord: Midnight

Isaiah 9: 1-6; Titus 2: 11-14; Luke 2: 1-14

I've preached this same mass and these same readings for three years now. I tried to come up with something new to say – something different – that will make this night come alive for each of you. I was having trouble finding the message that I wanted each of you to take home. Then I realized that nothing I could write could possibly come close to the poetic words that St. Luke has given us. “Behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For today in the city of David a savior has been born for you who is Christ and Lord.”

This is not an isolated event that happened in a small village over two millienia ago. We did not brave the elements to come to St. Gabriel in the middle of the night for a “birthday party” for someone who is dead and forgotten. The words that the angel proclaimed on that hillside are meant for us as well. Tonight they were spoken by a lowly deacon, but their meaning is great. “ I bring YOU good news … a savior has been born for YOU...”

These words touch each of as, just as they touched those first people who heard the gospel. God came into the world, flesh and bone, completely powerless. He needed to be nurtured and protected – kept safe by those who loved him.

I had an uncle, my mother's brother, named Frank.  But everyone in the family called him Bud.  Uncle Bud lived in the house of my grandparents for almost his entire life.  The house was only a few doors down from Churchill Downs.  We gathered as family twice a year at that house - Christmas Eve and Derby Day.  Bud lived alone and housekeeping was not one of his interests.  As a result, my mother and my aunt would go and clean the house, top to bottom, a few days beforehand.  After the house was cleaned, they would go upstairs into one of the bedrooms, remove the sheet covering a three foot tall artificial Christmas tree, carry it downstairs - ornaments and lights in tact - set it on the table in the living room and plug it in.  Then we were ready to celebrate Christmas as a family.

The other big day at Bud's house was Derby Day.  In late April or early May, as the Kentucky Derby approached, my mother and my aunt would head over to Bud's house for another cleaning.  The first thing that they did upon entering was to unplug the Christmas tree and carry it back upstairs ...

Hallmark had a nifty commercial this year. They were selling ornaments that count down the time until Christmas. And I remember feeling that excitement as a child waiting for Christmas morning. As I have matured, I've come to understand that the incarnation is not a specific date on a calendar.

The Nativity of the Lord is not something we get out once a year, dust off, and admire, only to be put away a few days – or months – later. The birth of the Christ child resides in our hearts – we nurture it and keep it alive and safe. We celebrate it as a people every December 25^th – but we should be living with Christ in our hearts everyday.

So on this night – as we turn to those around us at the sign of peace – know that the Christ child is among us. On this night, as we come to the table, know that the Christ child dwells within us. On this night, know that the heavenly hosts proclaim to each of us “Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace.

Deacon Darryl J. Diemer

Nativity of the Lord - Midnight

December 25th, 2010

Crisis of Faith

3^rd Sunday of Advent – Cycle A

Isaiah 35: 1-6a, 10; James 5: 7-10; 

Matthew 11: 2-11

I'm a fairly intelligent person. I consider myself well-read. I can understand difficult concepts. I've scored above average on my aptitude tests over the years. But I have one flaw that drives me nuts – sometimes the answer to a puzzle is so blatantly obvious, so straight-forward, that I can't see it. Today's Gospel passage presented just such a dilemma for me.

Matthew describes the scene where John the Baptist has sent his followers to Jesus to ask if he is the “one who is to come.” WHY? Isn't this the same John the Baptist that lept in his mother's womb when the expectant Mary came to visit? Isn't this the same John the Baptist who, on seeing Jesus walk by, proclaimed to his disciples “Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world?” Isn't this the same John the Baptist who witnessed at Jesus' baptism, the heavens open up and the spirit of God descending like a dove upon the Christ? So why is John so uncertain now? It didn't make sense to me.

It took a conversation with a parishioner the other evening to make me finally realize what was going on in John's head. Are you ready for this? John was having a crisis of faith! The very idea – even now – boggles the mind, but it's right there for all to see. John the Baptist was having a crisis of faith.

Of all the people who knew Jesus, walked with Jesus, witnessed his marvelous deeds, you would think that John the Baptist would understand. After all, he was the voice crying out from the desert – he was announcing the coming of the Lord. Jesus even said that there had been none greater than John the Baptist. If John could have a crisis of faith, what hope is there for the rest of us?

Remember that John had been imprisoned for speaking out against Herod and his unlawful marriage to his brother's wife. One moment John was the talk of town – everyone was going out to him to be baptized in the Jordan. The next moment, he was locked up – his ministry was over and eventually he would be executed. Any person in his situation might begin to question the truth.

It can be the same with each of us. We sometimes find ourselves in little prisons that are as real and confining as the one that held John the Baptist. The young – you may find yourselves at times confined by the prison of peer pressure, pressure to conform, to be someone other than yourself. Adults – we sometimes find ourselves trapped in a job that offers few challenges and little satisfaction. Mothers and Fathers – do we not at times find ourselves imprisoned by fears and worries about our children? Will they succeed, will they have faith, will they even survive in this hostile world? And as we all inevitably approach old age, we may face the very real prison of declining health, of growing dependence on others, of confinement in a nursing home or a hospital bed. These are real prisons – we should not pretend that they do not exist.

So it is easy to become depressed – easy to question our faith in God when we find ourselves imprisoned by circumstances. To those who live in the Northern hemisphere, Advent comes during the beginning of winter. The nights are longer now than at any other time of the year. Cold and darkness envelop us. All of this, combined with our prisons can make life's burdens almost unbearable. So how do we muddle through? How do we regain our faith – our hope – our perspective? Jesus said, “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind regain their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have the good news proclaimed to them.”

The church does not promise us that Advent will tear down our prision walls. It does teach us that the light of Christ will penetrate any darkness. The light of Christ will come to us in any prison where we may find ourselves. No prison can keep out the light of Christ. The prisons that held John the Baptist, St. Peter, St. Paul, St. John of the Cross, Martin Luther King, Dorothy Day – not one of them could keep out the light of Christ. All prisons, no matter how dark, how fearful, how lonely, can be penetrated by the light of Christ. And if Christ can be found in such prisons, surely he will be found in our lives this Advent season, if we let him.

Jesus sent disciples to John in prison to proclaim the good news. Today, each of us are disciples of Christ. Each of us must testify to the light that is Jesus Christ. Each of us must carry that good news to others.

So rejoice this third Sunday of Advent. Light that rose candle and await the dawn. The darkness has forever lost its power. Jesus is with us.

 

Deacon Darryl J. Diemer

3rd Sunday of Advent

December 12, 2010

Transformation

16^th Sunday Ordinary Time – Cycle C

Genesis 18: 1-10a; Colassians 1: 24-28; 

Luke 10: 38-42

Martha gets kind of a bad reputation from this Gospel passage. There is a tendency to believe that Jesus is chastising her while praising Mary. But listen again to the words: “Martha, you are anxious and worried about many things. Mary has chosen the better part and it will not be taken from her.” Jesus is not scolding Martha. He is simply pointing out that there is another way – a different possibility.

This encounter with Christ opened Martha's eyes. She began to see things differently. She began to change her life and the lives of those around her. Scripture doesn't specifically tell us, but I get the feeling that this is not the first time that Jesus has visited their home. Jesus was familiar to Mary, Martha and their brother Lazarus. Scripture only tells us of two occasions, but Martha is so vastly changed in the second, that it is reasonable to assume that there were other visits as well. By the time that Jesus encountered her again in the scriptures, Martha's faith and love for Jesus have blossomed.

Do you recall that second meeting? It occurs in John's Gospel, Chapter 11. Lazarus has died and Jesus goes to pay his respects to the family. Martha hears that the Lord is coming and goes out to meet him. She says “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now, I know that whatever you ask of God, God will give you.”

Jesus replies, “I am the resurrection and the life: whoever believes in me … will live. … Do you believe this?” And Martha answers “Yes Lord, I have come to believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one who is coming into the world.”

Wow! Talk about a transformation! Martha has gone from a woman who is too busy to have time for Jesus, to a person who leaves her home and her guests behind to go and talk with the Master. She is only the second person is the Gospels to verbally proclaim that Jesus is the Son of God before his death and resurrection. It's easy to understand why her name is included in the church litany's throughout the ages. But how did she come to this glorious testament of faith?

In today's gospel, Martha abides by the societal rules of her day. She welcomes Jesus into her home and serves Him and the disciples by cooking and cleaning, but she is frustrated. She wants more. She may not even know what it is exactly that she wants and she lashes out at Mary. She senses that deeper relationship Mary seems to have with Jesus. She doesn't dare to ask for it. Perhaps because she is unsure about how to get it. Perhaps because she doesn't feel that she deserves it. Perhaps because she fears the consequences of such a bold action. We don't really know.

But Jesus' reaction to her and Mary today – recognizing Martha's frustration, yet not scolding her; accepting her for the person she is right now without demanding that she become someone or something else; and finally placing before her the suggestion that perhaps Mary's priority to sit at the feet of Jesus was the better part.

I believe that that moment with Christ had a small but profound impact on Martha. She began to seek a different sort of relationship with Him. She had a shift in her priorities. She took a chance that perhaps she could venture out from the expectations society placed upon her, that she could step out of the kitchen, set aside the chores, and be present with Christ.

Martha allowed her relationship with Jesus to change her. Do we? We encounter Christ daily in our lives – through the scriptures, through the Eucharist and through our daily interactions with others. Do we allow these moments to influence us – to change us – or do we remain unaware of God's intimate presence within our lives?

I have a friend I see from time to time. She has told me on many occasions that she'd like to lose some weight. She has great intentions, but quickly becomes overwhelmed at the thought of making so many life-style changes – what she eats, when she eats, why she eats, how to schedule time to exercise, and what to do when a celebration comes along featuring lots of fattening food? So, one day, she decided to take one small step towards a healthier choice. She decided to give up soft drinks and drink only water. She didn't change her eating habits or add exercise to the routine because she felt she'd have a better chance at sticking to one small change. And it worked! After a few short weeks there was a noticeable weight loss. With her added confidence, she felt ready to gradually add more changes.

I wonder if we don't feel overwhelmed by what we perceive as an impossible task, to deepen our relationship with Christ as Martha did. Perhaps we don't know where to begin. But I have a thought. After receiving communion today, in that few minutes of silent prayer before the closing rite, perhaps we can commit to something that will deepen or strengthen our relationship with God. It doesn't need to be a major life-altering commitment – just something small and easy to accomplish. Give it some time and re-evaluate. The results may shock you.

We have a model from today's Gospel to get us started. We are surrounded by fellow Christians who are all striving to follow in the footsteps of Christ. Do we see them? Do we recognize Christ within them? We can allow our encounters with the Christ in our midst to transform us.

Deacon Darryl J. Diemer

16th Sunday of Ordinary Time

July 17, 2010

The Journey Begins

13^th Sunday Ordinary Time – Cycle C

1 Kings 19: 16b, 19-21; Galatians 5: 1, 13-18; 

Luke 9: 51-62

There are no promises when travelling. There is no “spendid time guaranteed for all.” You can prepare for months, but those plans can be foiled by outside forces beyond our control. Small things like the weather or an airline strike – larger things like an oil spill or terrorist alert – can interfere and ruin all of our plans. When we leave the comfort and the safety of our homes and venture forth into the world, we leave behind that security and take our chances. So why should we go? We hope that the benefits and the rewards will outweigh the risk and the uncertainty involved. Jesus invites us all on just such a journey in today's gospel.

The Gospel of Luke is divided into two main themes – the first deals with Jesus and his ministry in Galilee. When you reach the midway point of the Gospel, today's reading, Luke states that Jesus journeys resolutely toward Jerusalem. From this point forward, the Master and his followers have a destination in site. All of Luke's readings for the rest of our liturgical year will come from this travel narrative.

A few years ago, my son James and his classmates went on a three-day camp out to Otter Creek Park. The trip was a 7^th grade tradition – a rite of passage – a time for bonding as they prepared to become the new leaders of the school. One of the activities that they experienced was a high ropes course. The 7^th graders were harnessed to ropes for safety and encouraged to maneuver through several obstacles among the tree tops. At the “leap of faith” the youth are told to jump from one platform to another. There is nothing but a long way down in between. The distance looked impossible. The teens who rushed through the leap of faith covered the distance easily and were able to move on. The secret was not to linger. Those who stopped, looked down, and weighed the risks, had a much harder time making the jump.

The followers of Jesus had a similar decision to make. Some were able to heed the words and follow. Those who were distracted by other obligations had a more difficult time. Their journey, if they chose to go, could have been made easier had they trusted the Lord completely. Our journey is no different. We must not linger. We must take that leap of faith and follow Christ without hesitation. That can be difficult to do. This journey has no itinerary. There are no promises of hotel suites with room service. There are no bell boys here – we carry our own baggage so travelling light is essential.

There is an urgency in the words that we proclaimed today. Jesus is telling everyone to “follow me” and he warns them all that this journey will not be an easy one. “Foxes have dens and birds of the sky have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to rest his head.” He is asking if we are prepared to embrace hardship for the kingdom.

I watch the Travel Channel a lot when I am at home. I love learning about the exotic locations, the local cuisine and the adventures that await those who are willing. But there comes a point when watching the program is not enough. You need to turn off the television, get off the couch, and embark on your own journey.

Going to church can be a bit like watching the travel channel. We sit in the pews and hear about the Kingdom of God. We get a brief taste of the banquet that awaits us at the end of the journey. Some believe that the Kingdom of God is not of this world – that it can only be reached through death and a new life in Christ. And so they do nothing. They bide their time. But Jesus tells us that the Kingdom of God is at hand. It is here and now. We are continually challenged in our daily lives – at home, in the workplace, at the grocery store, sitting in traffic. We are challenged to carry the Good News with us always, not just in our hearts, but on our sleeves as well. Until we are able to get up from the pews and follow Jesus 24-7, we are still watching that travel channel.

The Jesus in today's Gospel is urging each of us - “follow me” and make that leap of faith. “Follow me” and I will show you the way. “Follow me” and experience the Kingdom of God firsthand.

Deacon Darryl J. Diemer
13th Sunday in Ordinary Time
July 27, 2010

The Advocate

Sixth Sunday of Easter – Cycle C

Acts 15: 1-2, 22-29; Revelation 21: 10-14, 22-23; 

John 14: 23-29

Jesus promises in today's Gospel that an Advocate will come to us. This Advocate, this Paraclete, will teach us everything and remind us of all that Jesus told us. Jesus is of course talking about the the Holy Spirit, the third person of the trinity.

Today's first reading from Acts describes how the Holy Spirit's influence was felt in the early church. There was a disagreement as to the requirements necessary to join the ranks of the faithful. Paul and Barnabas went to Jerusalem and spoke on behalf of the new Gentile faithful. In the end, the church leaders chose to not put any undue burden upon its new members.

There are two major lessons in the way that the early church handled this specific problem that was tearing it apart:

• First, they made their decision by listening to one another; they were not afraid to listen to all the thorny issues that disturbed them.

• Second, they were convinced that they needed someone outside their tiny selves to solve their specific problem.

They made their decision with the aid of the Holy Spirit, who dwells within them and their community. I cannot help but think that the problems unique to today's world and today's faithful would be handled better if addressed in this manner. If we are not asking for God's help through prayer, how can we know that we are doing God's will? If we don't factor God into the equation, how can God be present in the solution?

We don't talk about the Holy Spirit very often. Why do you suppose that is? Maybe it's because the Holy Spirit is so elusive. The image of God the Father is one that we are all familiar with. We know that Jesus was a man, so it is easy for us to picture him in our minds. What about the Holy Spirit? The Spirit is often pictured as a dove or fire in art and literature – but that depiction seems woefully inadequate. Of the three persons in the trinity, it is the Spirit that most effects us in our day-to-day dealings in the world. The Holy Spirit guides us, persuades us, influences us to live better lives and improve the quality of life for others. Many philosophers throughout history have tried to describe the Holy Spirit – without a great deal of success. I tried asking several people to describe the Holy Spirit. One person said that he sees the Holy Spirit as female. My mother surmised that the Holy Spirit lives on your right shoulder. I will throw caution to the wind here and offer a description of him.

The Holy Spirit is God himself manifested in a way that we humans can comprehend. As one equal in the trinity, the Spirit is a life force that we acknowledge every time that we profess our faith when we say “we believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life.” We bring our gifts to this altar, but it is the power of the Holy Spirit that we invoke to make them holy, so that they may become the body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ. Not only is the Spirit a life force, but it is our life source to God, because it is the Spirit that moves us to do God's work on Earth. I would be willing to bet that we have all experienced the power of the Holy Spirit at some point in our lives. Something happens that we didn't expect and we can't explain – some people refer to these as “God moments.” The Holy Spirit is that guiding force that we cannot put our finger on, but we know that it's there. The Spirit is that little tingly feeling in the back of our mind that tells us what path we should be following. When we experience great joy, great benefit, our emotions are lifted and we celebrate the good fortune in our lives. It is the Holy Spirit that reminds us that all this goodness is a gift from God. In times of trial of loss, it is the Holy Spirit that brings us peace – the peace that we need to survive the storm – to deal with the loss of something or someone that we thought we could never live without. When we rally to the side of those facing injustice or hatred, that is the Holy Spirit calling us to action. When we take food to the poor or help someone in need, that is the Holy Spirit guiding us to do God's work in the world.

My family suffered a tremendous hardship a few years back. My wife Susan suffered a stroke. She was 31 years old. Our sons were ages 4 and 2 at the time. Here I was, a young man facing the very real possibility that I would have to raise our children alone. It was frightening. I was completely overwhelmed. But the Holy Spirit provided. With the help of our family and friends, we managed to put our lives back together again. The children never missed a meal and always had someone available to watch them. The laundry always got clean and the bills always got paid. And I'm not just talking a few days here. It was months before things got back to normal – and the Holy Spirit provided. Now many non-believers might say “that's just family pitching in and helping out, where is the Holy Spirit?”

Throughout this experience, the gifts of the Holy Spirit received at Confirmation were put into action. The gifts of wisdom and understanding were evident as family and friends were aware of our needs and took care of them while I was still in shock about what was happening and had no idea how to move forward. The gift of courage as friends of friends stepped out of their comfort zones to help when it would have been much easier to wring there hands and say, “Oh, what a shame.” The gift of reverence, to see Christians of many denominations pray and work together to build up the Kingdom of God. The gift of wonder and awe to see God's presence in the midst of it, rather than an excuse to be angry at God.

The Holy Spirit was alive and well as we dealt with our family crisis. The Advocate touches each of us as both individuals and as a community of believers. Pray to the Holy Spirit for guidance, and be watchful for the Spirit's influence in our lives and in our world.

Deacon Darryl J. Diemer
6th Sunday of Easter
May 9, 2010

NOTE:  It is necessary for me thank Deacon Stephan Phelps for his words on the Holy Spirit.  Stephan believes that the sincerest form of flattery is imitation.  His description of the Holy Spirit (in a homily that he preached a few months previous) was so eloquent that I chose to use them as well.  His words are those printed in the blue text.

Hearing The Call

Fourth Sunday of Easter – Cycle C

Acts 13: 14, 34-52; Revelation 7: 9, 14b-7; 

John 10: 27-30

Today is Good Shepherd Sunday. It is also World Day of Prayer For Vocations. Today we are asked to unite our voices with others across the globe in the hopes that each of us will recognize our call to serve God.

Now, when I say the word vocation, many people immediately assume that I am talking about the need for more priests. The priesthood is certainly one vocation that is needed. But not everyone is called to be a priest. I'm not. I believe that God is calling everyone in some way – calling each of us to serve in our own particular and unique fashion. Praying for vocations will allow us to contemplate how we are called to serve.

In today's gospel passage Jesus said, “My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me.” God is telling us what we should do. We must all learn to listen to the Good Shepherd's voice. But how do we hear that voice in today's world? The same way that people did in times past – through prayer and reflection. We are all called to serve the Lord and each other. We are all called to carry on the mission that Jesus began. Prayer and reflection will point us in the right direction.

When I was in high school, one of my teachers was talking about the importance of prayer in our lives. I went to him after class – I was too embarrassed to say it in class – and I asked him how to pray. He told me that we have many terrific prayers and to find one that speaks to me. I said no, I don't to recite a prayer that someone else has written, how do I pray what is in my heart? He told me that good prayer always encompasses three elements – praise God, thank God, ask God for what you want. While I hesitate to correct my teacher, maturity and experience have taught me that there is a fourth vital component for good prayer – listening to what God has to say. Sometimes what we want is different from what God wants from us. Good prayer and reflection takes this into account. It is this fourth element that is particularly important when we are discerning our vocation.

Vocation is a life commitment. That vocation may change or evolve as we grow. I was called to be a husband and a father. I was called to serve as an example of God's love to my family. That service eventually led me to the Diaconate. But is doesn't necessarily stop there. Somewhere down the road, that calling might lead me in a new direction. I just need to be open and accepting of God's call.

When I was a boy, my uncle owned a camp on the Ohio River. Every Sunday during the summer, the family would gather at the camp and spend the day enjoying each others' company. It was great fun for us kids. The one constant of those days was the river. I've seen the river at flood stage. I've seen the river at drought. I've seen the river flowing hard and fast. I've seen the river frozen solid. I thought that I had seen it all. Most of the time, the river is a muddy wavy mess. But there was one morning that it was different. We were camping out over the Fourth of July holiday. I got up a little after sunrise and walked down to the river alone. It was very still – very peaceful. I was standing on the boat dock and looking down at the water. There were no waves at all and the river appeared to be a solid sheet of glass. I could clearly see the bottom. I could make out the pattern of the sand and could clearly see shells. It was glorious.

Discerning God's vocational calling can be like that. We can study and observe the question for years and then one day there is a moment of clarity – when it all comes together. It is that moment that we should all seek.

Discerning God's call can lead to life-altering changes. Perhaps you are called to serve God by joining the Catholic church. If your moment of clarity reveals that to you, now is the time to rid yourself of those impediments that have held you back, and embrace the Catholic faith. Perhaps you are called to serve God as a single person. If so, now is the time to joyfully acknowledge that you are a prophetic witness of God's love in today's world. Maybe you are called to be a parent. If so, your moment of clarity will help you to understand how best to serve God in raising and instructing your children.

God has a plan for each of us. We can choose to ignore that plan. We can choose a different plan. Or we can accept God's calling and implement it into our daily lives. There is much to be done. There is an urgency here. The hungry need to be fed immediately. Poverty and disease need to be eliminated without delay. The problems with the environment need to be addressed. It is all God's work, and our participation in it cannot be postponed. I urge each of you to look inward and discover your own place in building up the Kingdom of God.

Deacon Darryl J. Diemer

4th Sunday of Easter

April 25, 2010

Road From Emmaus

Easter Sunday

Acts 10: 34a, 37-43; Colassians 3: 1-4; 

Luke 24: 13-35

The disciples were lost. This Jesus that they had served had been taken from them, convicted, hung on a cross and executed like a common criminal. This Jesus that they hoped was the chosen one – the one who would establish the kingdom of God was now gone. And so they were afraid. They were lost and so they left Jerusalem and headed down the road to Emmaus – the “road to nowhere.”

Along the way they encountered a stranger. They recounded all that had happened in Jerusalem. The stranger listened to their story and then he began to interpret the scriptures for them. He began to open it up for them. And their hearts burned. But they did not recognize him. They knew that the words this man was speaking were truth, but they did not recognize him. It was later in the evening, when he broke the bread, that their eyes were opened. At that moment all of their doubts – all of their fears went away. Their path was clear – and it did not lead down that road to nowhere. It led back to Jerusalem and back to Jesus.

I was on the road to Emmaus once. I was in formation to become a deacon. It was a four year program and I had completed my first two years. People kept asking me, “Are you called to this ministry?” I would look and them and respond “I don't know, it hasn't been made clear.” One of the other things that people kept telling me was that, to be a good deacon, I had to embrace and believe EVERYTHING that the church teaches. I was having difficulty with that. There are a few things – not many – but a few things that the church says that I struggled with – and continue to struggle with. I was having doubts; I was having fears, and they all came to a head that summer between my second and third year. I was so discouraged that I didn't know if I could remain in the diaconate program. I wasn't even sure if I could remain a Roman Catholic.

Then something amazing happened to me. I attended mass at another parish here in the archdiocese. It's a catholic church – one that is known for having a strong social justice slant. It's also a parish that is known for being a little loose with the rules as far as liturgy goes. Let me give you some examples: When they make the sign of the cross, they say “In the name of the Creator, the Redeemer, and the Sanctifier. When they recite the Lord's Prayer, they say “Our Father / Mother...” It is not uncommon to attend mass there and hear a nun, or layperson proclaim the gospel and deliver the homily. Many people would see them and declare, “This is NOT a Catholic church.” But I went there.

On this particular day, there were baptisms. It seems that a family that had moved to Tennessee some years ago, returned in order to have their three children baptized in this parish. The priest stepped forward and asked, “What name do you give this child?” And the parents said the name. Then Father said, “Tell me something about this child.” This perked my ears up – I had never heard a priest ask that before. Then the priest took the Sacred Chrism and made a cross on each forehead. Now – normally at this part of the ritual, the parents and godparents are invited to trace the cross as well. But Father surprised me again. He asked the parents to lead the children through the church so that EVERYONE could trace that cross on the kids' foreheads. Every person in that church entered into that covenant with God to raise those children in the catholic faith. It was a beautiful thing to witness.

Then came time for the actual baptism. The priest sprinkled the water over their foreheads and said, “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” All of a sudden, in the midst of the singing and celebrating, everything went quiet for me. It was as if time had stopped. I heard a voice in my ear, and it whispered four words - “See, I'm here too.”

There were tears in my eyes – and I remember looking at my wife and my sons – to see if they had heard it too. But they hadn't. The voice was just for me. It took a long time to be able to talk about this – and even longer to understand its meaning. What I came to realize is this: God can't be put in a box – whether that box be labeled “church” or “religion” or whatever. The box isn't big enough or strong enough to hold God. I now understood that I was called to this ministry and I understood that I could serve it faithfully, even with my doubts – even with my beliefs.

We all find ourselves on the road to Emmaus from time to time. We all find ourselves on the road to nowhere. But Jesus, the Good Shepherd, will seek us out, and lead us home, if only we let him. The road to Emmaus leads in all directions, but the road back home leads to one specific place:

[Lift the book of the Gospels]

It leads here – Jesus – the Word Made Flesh.

[Lift the altar crucifix]

It leads here – Jesus – whose death on the cross redeemed us all.

[touch the Easter candle]

Jesus – the Light of the World.

[touch the altar]

Jesus – the Bread of Life.

Are your hearts burning now?

Deacon Darryl J. Diemer

Easter Sunday

April 4, 2010

Forgetting the Keys

Fourth Sunday of Lent – Year C

Joshua 5: 9a, 10-12; 2 Corinthians 5: 17-21; 

Luke 15: 1-3, 11-32

A couple of weeks ago, I was online and I “googled” the phrase “prodigal son.” My search results gave me hundreds of homilies, sermons and various other reflections regarding this parable. But mixed in with these was a short newspaper article that caught my eye. It was about a woman from Muncie, Indiana and her daughter. The article said that the daughter had run away from home and had been gone for several months. One afternoon the telephone rang and the mother answered it. It was the daughter. She was calling from the bus station and asking if she could come home. The mother was so excited that she ran out of the house but had to turn around and go back inside - she had forgotten her car keys.

In the article, the part about forgetting the keys was a minor point of interest. But for some reason this image has stayed with me. The mother had endured months of worry and anguish as a result of her daughter’s actions. How many nights of sleep were lost? How many phone calls were made searching for the daughter’s whereabouts? How many horrible images were imagined during this separation? But when that phone rang, all of those feelings were forgotten. In that instant there was only joy and thankfulness. In that moment of time the mother experienced what I imagine God feels when we, his prodigal children, return home.

It is obvious that the father image in this gospel parable is God. There are two other characters in this story – the two sons. The younger sons’ actions are easy to identify as sinful. He disrespected his father, he demanded his share of his father’s estate before it was due and he squandered his inheritance. The younger son came to understand that his actions were wrong. He retuned to his father, took responsibility for his behavior and sought reconciliation. The father had already forgiven his son. That much is obvious from the father’s actions. But the father did not say “it’s OK – no need to apologize.” It was important that the son acknowledge his sinfulness and ask for forgiveness. This was necessary for full reconciliation to occur.

The older brothers’ actions are not quite as easy to recognize as sinful. As outsiders, we can look at the elder brother and see that he is arrogant, self-righteous and unforgiving. But in his eyes, his actions are justified. He doesn’t understand that his behavior is damaging the relationship with his father. The older son has a real dilemma. How do you take responsibility for your sinful actions if you do not see them as sinful? How can you apologize for something when you don’t understand that an apology is warranted? That is where listening to God becomes most important. The father came to his son and pleaded with him to return to the house and the banquet. The father was telling the son that his feelings are standing in the way of his own salvation. But did the older son get the message? That is one thing the story doesn’t tell us. It doesn’t say if the older son is able to overcome his feelings of anger and self-righteousness, take responsibility for his feelings, and reconcile himself with his father AND his brother.

I had an experience this past week that helped to put everything into perspective. I was talking with someone about “part time Catholics” – the people who you only see in church on Christmas and Easter. I was trying to come up with a way to reach these people and make them want to come to Mass regularly. In other words “How do I change these people to make them more like me?” I was feeling self-righteous and angry because they are not obeying the rules. I am the elder son.

I will confess that the sacrament of reconciliation was not important to me for many years. In fact, I did not go to confession for more than fifteen years. I’m sure that I had plenty of reasons for not going, but the primary reason was that I did not believe that it was necessary. I did not believe that I had done anything serious enough to justify reconciliation. I now understand why the sacrament is so important. There is a satisfaction that comes with acknowledging your sins to another person – taking ownership for your faults and missteps – and vowing to try to improve. A good reconciliation experience not only heals the wounds that sin causes, it actually deepens our relationship with the Father. My prayer is that each of us here today will take advantage of this sacrament in the coming weeks leading up to Easter.

The theologian, Henri Nouwen, wrote that God in infinite compassion is linked for all eternity with each of us. God has gifted us with the freedom to make our own choices, whether they be good or bad. This choice causes God grief when we leave; this choice brings God gladness when we return. But God’s joy will not be complete until all who received life have returned home and gathered around the table prepared for them.

There is an image that I have stuck in my head – an image that I would like to share with you now. You will recall that the mother I referred to earlier had to go back inside and retrieve her keys. I picture God standing in the kitchen, waiting for the phone to ring. The keys are in-hand and He’s ready to leave at a moment’s notice when that call from us is received.

Deacon Darryl J. Diemer

Fourth Sunday of Lent

March 14, 2010

Beatitude

6^th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle C

Jeremiah 17: 5-8; 1 Corinthians 15: 12, 16-20; 

Luke 6: 17, 20-26

My family loves to read. It is one of the few traits that all four of us share. But while we all enjoy reading, we don’t always read the same things. And we don’t all read the same way either. For instance – if my wife Susan comes across a word or a phase that she doesn’t understand, she will put down the book and look up its meaning. To her every word is important and worthy of understanding and contemplation. In contrast I usually just skip over the unfamiliar word and keep going. To me understanding the overall message is the key, and one small word will not significantly change said message.

I’ve heard the word “beatitude” spoken for more than forty years. I’ve always equated the word with this gospel passage – the “blessed are …” proclamations. But I never stopped to contemplate the meaning of the word “beatitude” before. So, taking a page from my wife’s book, I looked it up in the dictionary. According to Webster, beatitude is a state of bliss. It is an ancient formula that encourages people to do good things. In other words, if you do this it will bring you joy.

When I heard the term “beatitude” I always thought of the Sermon on the Mount. But in my research for this homily I discovered that the Old Testament is full of these beatitudes. We heard a couple of them in today’s readings. Jeremiah states “Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord … they are like a tree planted next to water that sends out its roots by the stream, and does not fear when heat comes, for its leaves remain green. The psalm that we sang says “Blessed is the one who does not take the wicked as a guide, nor walks the road that sinners tread.” OK, I get it now. Do these things and they will please God and please ourselves. It seems simple enough to understand, right?

The people in Jesus’ time were familiar with these sayings and this way of thinking. Do the right things, keep God’s laws, and our rewards will be plentiful. Conversely, if we do the wrong things, or think the wrong thoughts, God will be angry and the punishment will be severe. In that time, people looked at the lowly ones of society, the poor, the lame, the outcasts, and believed that their condition was a punishment from God. They looked at the wealthy, the respected, and the law keepers and believed that their prosperity was God’s reward.

These are not beliefs that were unique to the people of 2000 years ago. They are still prevalent today. We live in a nation where drive and ambition are rewarded. Those who are successful have worked hard to get there, and those who are poor must be lazy or ignorant. They have only themselves to blame for their lot in life. That is what capitalism teaches us.

But now here comes Jesus and his words are the complete opposite of everything we have learned. It is the poor, the downtrodden, the meek and the weak who are blessed while the rich and the affluent, the comfortable and the content who will grieve and weep. It must have shocked those who heard him to their very core. They should shock us equally.

In our current society, we are ingrained with the concepts of capitalism. We are taught that anyone can be financially successful if they work hard. It is the basis of our society and our way of interacting with others. We pay attention to the rich and the powerful. So, hearing these words of Jesus may make their way into our heads. Our minds can intellectually comprehend what he is saying and we can nod our heads in agreement, but do these radical concepts Christ is proclaiming reach into our hearts? When we see a homeless person, what is our first reaction? Does what we’ve been taught by society hit first with thoughts of “if he’d just pull himself up by the bootstraps and work harder, he’d have a home like the rest of us”? Do we have the opposite approach, feel pity for him, and hand him a couple bucks? Or do we see him with the same dignity Christ does, as a fellow creation made in God’s image?

A few years ago, the pastor at Holy Family approached me about taking communion to an elderly gentleman who was home bound. I said yes and began the task. The first couple of weeks, George and I would say a few prayers, I would give him the Eucharist, and I would leave. I did what I was supposed to do. I completed the task. I was a law keeper.

But after those initial visits, we became more comfortable with each other and began sharing our life experiences. George told me of his childhood, his marriage and children, his involvement with the parish. As time went on, I began to look forward to my visits with George. I found our conversations to be interesting and meaningful. What began as a task to help an old man evolved into a deeper friendship that I cherished. In our time together, a relationship was formed. I no longer looked at him as an old man I needed to help, but as a child of God; as someone who had much to teach me about the ones Jesus referred to as “Blessed are they”, as those who bring joy.

We have Jesus’ words to live by. We know the meanings of the words. We know the message he was teaching. We know these things in our minds. We can understand and acknowledge their wisdom. But that is not enough. We must also know these things in our hearts. We need to incorporate them into our lives if we are to be truly blessed.

Deacon Darryl J. Diemer

6th Sunday in Ordinary Time

February 14, 2010

The Missing Pieces

4^th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle C

Jeremiah 1: 4-5, 17-19; Corinthians 12: 31-13:13; 

Luke 4:21-30

My mother-in-law is an amazing person. She is eighty some-odd years young and still very active. She plays cards, goes bowling, reads voraciously and loves – absolutely loves picture puzzles. Every time we go to her house, there is a new puzzle being constructed on her dining room table. My mother-in-law is also very thrifty with her money. She would never buy herself a book – she goes to the library. And she would never buy herself a new puzzle – she gets them from yard sales and such. Occasionally this presents a problem. There have been times when she’s worked for days on completing a puzzle only to discover that it is missing a couple of pieces. It is flawed and incomplete.

Today’s second reading we hear Paul talking about the virtues of love. This passage from Corinthians is usually proclaimed at weddings or sometimes at funerals. As it was being read today, I saw a couple of tears as the litany rolled on … Love is patient, kind, not envious or boastful, not rude. It does not insist on its own way. It is not self-seeking or prone to anger. It does not brood over injuries. It rejoices with the truth. There is no limit to its forbearance, to its trust, its hope, its power to endure…

This reading from Corinthians is also consoling. There is great comfort in knowing that, no matter what our failings and insignificance, our God – who is love – is ever kind and patient with us. God is there with endless love and endless mercy for each of us.

Paul’s letter also contains a disclaimer of sorts. It tells us that we can only know this perfect love partially. We cannot experience this love fully and completely until we are face to face with God. There are pieces missing from the puzzle. We know that going in. How could there not be with an imperfect world and imperfect people? But this picture of love is worth saving. It cannot be tossed aside or thrown away. We must continue to search for the fragments that will make this image come alive.

My family was fortunate enough to volunteer and participate in building a Habitat for Humanity house that was sponsored by St. Gabriel last spring. It was a great experience and I will gladly do it again. On Thursday morning when we arrived, there was only a foundation with a sub-floor. By Saturday evening when we left, the house was under roof with doors and windows. It was an amazing thing to see. At one point during the process, I got a little annoyed with my wife. Everyone was working hard, it seemed, except her. She was chatting with Jewel, the lady whose house we were building. At the time, I felt that Susan wasn’t doing her fair share. Looking back on the event now, I realize how misguided those feelings were. For me and for many others, the Habitat for Humanity experience was an act of charity. For my wife Susan, it became so much more. We weren’t building a St. Gabriel sponsored house, we were building a home for Jewel Neil and her children. For Susan, the experience was transformed from an act of charity into an action of Love. That distinction makes all of the difference in the world. Susan managed to collect a piece of the picture that eluded me.

It is only through direct contact with others that we find a deeper meaning in our actions. When the first reports of the earthquake in Haiti hit the airwaves, it was difficult to comprehend what was happening. We knew where Haiti was, we learned that they were the poorest nation in this hemisphere, we found out how devastating a 7.0 earthquake is. As more in-depth reports began to air, and we saw the faces of those affected – heard their stories – it became more real for us. We were introduced to the victims of the devastation. We saw the horrible pictures of trucks piled high with the dead. We saw riots as food and water supplies arrived. Even watching on TV we have come to know and care for these people.

God understands this. That is why Jesus came into the world – so that God could have that face to face contact with us. That is why God continues to know us, continues to love us, continues to make that presence felt in our lives:

• through the scriptures
• through the sacraments
• through the influence & enlightenment of the Holy Spirit
• through the actions of others

God continues to leave pieces of the puzzle of perfect love for us to discover and assemble. We just need to open our eyes and our hearts to their presence in our lives.

Deacon Darryl J. Diemer

4th Sunday in Ordinary Time

January 31, 2010