Sunday, July 5, 2009

Dear Brothers & Sisters:

“Freedom is nothing else but a chance to be better.” (Albert Camus)

This weekend we celebrate the fact that as a people we live in a county that has been blessed by so many freedoms. Yet as we celebrate this weekend, if we fail to improve our own lives and the lives of our fellow citizens, than the freedom we have is wasted.

It is not just a freedom that was won for us by a revolution back in 1776, but it is a basic freedom that all people have since we have been created in the image and likeness of God. It is a freedom that all people have; no matter what your skin color is, no matter what your ethnic background is, no matter how much money you have in your bank account. As you celebrate with family and friends this weekend, take some time to reflect on how you use the freedom that God has blessed us with. Do we use our freedom to help those in our family, to assist those in need within our community, to set up and contribute to the life of our Church.

Last year I enjoyed watching the John Adams mini-series that aired on HBO. I was amazed at the passion of John Adams and our founding ancestors in their fight for freedom for our country. May we show the same passion in our lives to use our freedom as children of God. May we be passionate people every day as we use the freedoms we have been given to make our world a better place for generations yet to come. May this holiday weekend continue to be a safe one for you and yours!

Sunday, April 26, 2009

St. Clement’s Church; Saratoga Springs, NY

Acts 3: 13 -- 15, 17 --19

Psalm 4: 2, 7 -- 8, 9

1 John 2: 1 -- 5a

Luke 24: 35 -- 48

On Saturday morning here at St. Clement’s 71 young men and women knelt before Bishop Hubbard to be confirmed in the Spirit. Their response of “We believe” shows that they want to belong to something larger than themselves – they want to belong to a Church that stretches across time and space. They want to belong to something that stands for something good in our world; they want to be part of a group that lives the message St. Peter proclaims in our first reading: “The author of life you put to death,but God raised him from the dead; of this we are witnesses.” (Acts 3:15) We welcome our newly confirmed brothers and sisters, while we pray that the Spirit may continue to guide them towards the Lord.

Hopefully we all want to belong to something bigger than ourselves – something that will stand up for life and peace in the midst of our world. I pray we all wish to part of a community that cares for those that are seen as weak and frail in the eyes of society at large. This is our Catholic Church that calls all of us to reach out to the least of our brothers and sisters. “Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.” (Matthew 25: 40)

This weekend here at St. Clement’s begins our annual Bishop’s Appeal. I’d like to share a story about a couple named Earl and Dianne. Earl and his wife Diane went to the state fair every year, and every year Earl would say, "Diane, I'd like to ride in that stunt airplane." Diane always replied, "I know, Earl, but that airplane ride costs 50 dollars, and 50 dollars is 50 dollars." One year Earl and Diane went to the fair and Earl said, "Diane, I'm 75 years old. If I don't ride in that stunt airplane, I might never get another chance." Diane replied, "Earl, that airplane ride costs 50 dollars, and 50 dollars is 50 dollars." The pilot overheard them and said, "Folks, I'll make you a deal. I'll take you both up for a ride. If you can stay quiet for the entire ride and not say one word, I won't charge you, but if you say one word, it'll cost you 50 dollars." Earl and Diane agreed and up they went. The pilot did all kinds of twists and turns, rolls and dives, but not a word was heard. He did all his tricks over again, but still not a word. When the plane landed, the pilot turned to Earl and said, "By golly, I did everything I could think of to get you to yell out, but you didn't." Earl replied, "Well, I was gonna say something when Diane fell out, but 50 dollars is 50 dollars."

As the Bishop’s Appeal today begins I would like to be like Earl and keep my mouth shut and not say a word about money. But friends, 50 dollars is 50 dollars so unlike Earl I need to speak.

First, I would like to say thank you for your generosity to past Bishop’s Appeal. I would like to say thank you for your generosity to this parish here at St. Clement’s. Because of your generosity our bills are paid, salaries are paid, St. Clement’s School is supported and are Outreach Program is able to help those who are financial crisis. Because of the tithing this parish participates in we are able to help an AIDS hospice in South Africa and a Redemptorist run house that assists the homeless in Philadelphia, PA, as well as other things too many to mention. For your financial generosity I say: THANK YOU! God has blessed our parish and now we are asked to assist parishes and members of our diocese that are not as blessed as we are financially. The money from the Bishop’s Appeal will assist Diocesan Schools, Catholic Charities, parishes that are need of financial assistance as well as to train and educate seminarians, just to name a few things.

As families and individuals we are now asked to contribute to the needs of our Diocese. We are called to look beyond our own horizon and reach out to donate to the Diocese so that it can continue to operate Catholic Charities. An organization that is being stretched to its breaking point because of the terrible financial situation of so many people in need. The monies from the Bishop’s Appeal will go to help with the running of Catholic Schools in the Diocese by helping to sustain school that do not just teach Reading, ‘Riting and ‘Rithmatic but teach throughout the days the lessons of our loving God. Your contributions will help to train future priests for the Albany Diocese and while they may be few in numbers their zeal to proclaim the Gospel is as strong as St. Peter’s in the Acts of the Apostles.

You may be asking: Why donate to the Diocese? Why not just help out our own parish of St. Clement’s. “Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.” (Matthew 25: 40) Our Lord tells us to continue to reach out beyond ourselves.

Your donation may seem small but I have seen such small donations work wonders. In Philadelphia, where my friend Fr. Kevin Murray takes young adults to work with the homeless I have seen such small donations touch the lives of those who feel abandoned. One night when the temperature was in the single digits and I was with Fr. Kevin and a group of young people, we were driving around handing out blankets, sandwiches and hot drinks to those who were spending the night sleeping in a cardboard shack leaning against a building. Often we were asked if we saw “So and So” around the corner since they were in need of something. Once a man said he didn’t want anything to eat but did we have an extra Bible he could borrow. One time, and I still remember it with tears in my eyes, after giving a homeless man a cup of hot chocolate he said to me: “God bless you.” Here I was a priest who gives blessings on a daily basis, who would return to a warm rectory and a cozy bed; here was a man of the streets with nothing but what was in his shopping cart offer me all he had: the blessings of God.

When you donate to the Bishop’s Appeal you enable things like that to happen. Fr. Paul, from Food for the Poor, shared similar thoughts with you last week. As I drove him to the airport, he thanked me for the generosity of you – the parishioners of St. Clement’s – for your support of Food for the Poor. We talked as we drove about Matthew Chapter 25: “Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.” (Matthew 25: 40). We both agreed that this will be the question we are asked when we to meet the Lord – what have we done for the least among us.

Yes, it seems like I am asking you to give again. That in these tough economic times we are perhaps asking a bit too much. All I am asking you today to is to go home this week and prayerful consider what you can donate to the Bishop’s Appeal. The envelopes for pledges will be in the pews next week. Yes, it is not a good time for many of us but all I ask is that you listen to the Lord this week and consider what pledge you can make, for: “I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.” (Matthew 25: 40)

Besides the financial donation you can make to the Bishop’s Appeal I would also just like you this week to pray about what donation you can make to our faith family here at St. Clement’s. As I mentioned, I am grateful for your financial generosity that helps this parish do the wonderful things it does. Perhaps as you pray over you commitment to the Bishop’s Appeal you could also consider your weekly contribution to the life of the parish. If every family who contributed to our Sunday collection gave simply One more dollar a week we would be able to do so much more for our Parish Family as well as for those in need.

There is more to the life of a parish than finances. This week as you and your family pray over what to contribute financial to the Bishop’s Appeal and perhaps giving one more dollar a week in the Sunday collection, you can also continue to pray about other ways to help our Church. We are always looking for Lectors, Eucharistic Ministers, Users and Singers for Music Ministry. Even though Faith Formation Classes are over we will soon be making the plea for Catechists, Aides and parishioners to work with our RCIA Program. We continue to look for people to help with keeping our worship space clean and worthy of the God who dwells here. Simply put, if you have a gift and talent (and everyone one here does) I am sure that it can be put to good use here at the service of God and his people. Perhaps you don’t know what we could use help with – ask me and I’ll let you know. Perhaps you feel that you’ve never been invited to share your gift with the Church – I am inviting you personally right now.

On a practical note dealing with the life of the parish, I would like to address two points and am asking for feedback. You will find these two points mentioned in the Bulletin this week. The parish for several years has had a 7:30pm Sunday night Mass. I would like to propose that beginning on September 13, 2009 this Mass be moved to 5:00pm on Sunday afternoon. My hope is that this may make it a more convenient time for families and young people. The 11th Grade Confirmation Classes would take place after the Mass beginning at 6:15pm. On other Sundays the hope is that we can offer something for our youth, young people and young adults at various times following this 5:00pm afternoon Mass. Another Mass time change involves the 5:30pm that is now offered on Wednesdays and Fridays during the year. St. Clement’s is presently blessed to have three Redemptorist priests on staff. I cannot predict the future but highly doubt if we would ever have more than that assigned to this parish. I am looking to the future and as our Church deals with a shortage of priests I feel the need to act now instead of being forced to act when we may face a real shortage. My proposal is that after Wednesday, March 31, 2010 the 5:30pm Mass be suspend during the year. We will keep in place the 5:30pm Mass for during the season of Lent but this would be the only time of the year when we would have a 5:30pm Mass. I repeat, this does not affect 5:30pm Mass during the Season of Lent.

I realize that in this homily I have covered many points. I thank you for your time, patience and attention in allowing me to do so.

We are a wonderful parish. We might still be a little rough around the edges but our God continues to bless us. For your financial support – thank you! For your support in whatever way you help build up the life of the parish – thank you! For you continued support of the Bishop’s Appeal and the financial life of this parish – thank you in advance. For your future participation in the life of the parish – may God bless you. And finally for allowing me to serve you, unworthy though I am, as you pastor – thank you from the bottom of my heart!

Good Friday 2009 Reflection

Friday, April 10, 2009
St. Clement's Church; Saratoga Springs, NY

Isaiah 52: 13 -- 53:12
Psalm 31: 2, 6, 12 -- 13, 15 -- 17, 25
Hebrews 4: 14 -- 16, 5: 7 -- 9
John 18:1 -- 19: 42

What a strange day it's been. Or should I say what a strange week it's been. Up to Jerusalem we come to celebrate the Passover and as we come into town the people were calling Jesus a King. Now today they crucified him and I guess they'll come looking for me soon. This has not exactly been a good week.

My name's Peter. I'm a disciple of the Rabbi Jesus Christ from Nazareth. Rather, I used to be a disciple of his. I watched him get crucified today; not from up close but from a distance. I hid a long way off, close enough where I could see what was happening but far away enough so they wouldn't see me. I'm afraid that if they find me they'll crucify me also. Not only because I was a disciple of his but also because I chopped off the ear of one of those who came to arrest Jesus last night. Funny, here I was already to fight for Jesus and he tells me to put my sword away.

It's been a strange twenty four hours. There we were having a pleasant Passover meal and while we were praying a group came to arrest Jesus. I followed to see what would happen. For a while I even thought that had found out who I was. Those nosy people in the High Priest's courtyard knew who I was but I managed to convince them otherwise. I was afraid for my life. I didn't want the same thing that was happening to Jesus to happen to me. I had to lie to them to save myself. I'm sure he would understand that I had to say I didn't know him. Wait a minute, didn't Jesus say last night that I would deny knowing him three times before the night was out. I remember now that after the last time I said I didn't know him he looked over at me. He seemed sad. He was sad because of all the questioning and accusations that were going on but he looked at me as if he knew what I had done. Why did I deny him?

Why did I deny him when he needed me the most? The night before I was ready to fight to the death for him; I even used my sword then but when I was alone in the courtyard I said I didn't know who he was. I'm sorry Jesus. I'm sorry for denying you.

It was a strange night. It was a long night and I was tired but I wanted to see what would happen to Jesus. I managed to get to Pilate's house and stand outside in his courtyard. They brought Jesus out and this time I hardly recognized him. I hardly knew him, not because I was afraid but because of what they had done to him. As I stood in the back of the crowd I saw the bruises, the whip marks, and the spit still hanging from his beard. Even from the back of the crowd I saw that they had placed a crown of thorns on his head, they had pushed it down deep and he was covered with blood. They were mocking him; laughing at him, and they wanted to crucify him.
There I was at the edge of the crowd but I heard all around me cries of "Crucify him! Crucify him!" Why, I wanted to cry back? What has he done to any of you? Why didn't Jesus himself do something to get himself out of this mess? Instead he stood there calmly, meekly, and received all the abuse that they hurled at him. I wanted to ask the people around me not to shout out: "Crucify him!" any more. Then Pilate gave us the chance. He asked the crowd who we wanted to be freed: Barabbas, a common criminal, or Jesus. This would free Jesus, he was no criminal and the people would shout for his freedom. But all I heard the crowd scream was: "We want Barabbas, not this one!" I wanted to scream for Jesus but the crowd was so large and was out for blood. If I shouted for Jesus they would have probably killed me. I kept quiet and drifted away from the crowd.

I followed the death march of Jesus from a distance. They made him carry this huge cross and I thought he was going to die on the way to Calvary. They seemed exceptionally cruel to him. Whenever he fell they kicked and beat him. When he finally made it up the long, dusty road to Calvary he looked worse than when I had seen him at Pilate's. His lips were cracked from being so parched. The blood that was flowing had caked all over his body and the dust from the road covered him completely. Why didn't anyone take pity on him? Why didn't anyone stop this from happening? But it only got worse.

They used long nails to place him on the cross, normally they tie you on the cross with ropes but they were treating Jesus like he was the worse criminal that ever walked the face of the earth. He hung there and with each breath I saw him take I thought it would be his last. I wanted to go right up to the cross and be with him in his final minutes but I just could not find the courage. Finally I heard him say: "Now it is finished." With that he breathed no more.

I could not bear to look at him any longer. I walked back into town in a daze. What had Jesus done to have deserved to be treated like a common criminal? I remembered the three years I had spent with him, listening to him, seeing him with the people. His message was one of love and peace and non-violence yet his life ended in the midst of hatred and anger and violence. He had always cared for people, he never thought of himself once during his entire life. I remembered when he feed all those people with bread on the mountainside, and yet his life ended with him parched from thirst.

I thought about those three years we had spent together. Talking about how God cared and loved for each and every one of us--yet his life ended as if there was no God to be found. His death was the exact opposite of the way we had lived together. Together. That was the way it always was. Jesus and the twelve of us always together. Yet in the end he died alone. Why did I abandon him? Why did I deny him when he needed me the most?

Sure it was easy to say I was a follower of Jesus when all was going well. It was great to say I was a friend of Jesus after he gave sight to a blind person or made the cripple walk or heal the deaf. The people loved us, they adored us, and they treated us like gods and kings. When everything was going well it was no problem to say I knew Jesus. Yes, I was his disciple. Yes, I certainly was one of his followers. But in the end, when things got tough I ran. I feel very sorry and ashamed right now. I could just cry. I remember the last time he looked at me while I was in the high priest's courtyard. He seemed sad but his look was also one that I remembered from his life. It was a look of love and forgiveness. He knew I had denied him and yet he still loved me. He knew I was staying in the background yet he still cared for me.

I wondered if this is the end. I wonder where the other disciples are right now. We all ran. We all denied Jesus, yet he loved us all right to the very end--of that I'm sure as sure as I am that I'm standing here with you now. I'll never understand why he died. I'll never understand why all those people he talked to and who he cured turned their back on him. I'll never understand why I turned my back on him.

I'm sorry for standing away in a distance when Jesus needed me the most. I'm sorry for turning my back on him when he needed me. I'm sorry for denying him. I've got to find the others and we have to do something. They'll probably kill me in the end but Jesus' death must not be the end of it. We have to continue to preach what he did. We have to continue to live as he did. We have to stick together and live the way he asked us to. He died alone, in pain and sadness. I have this feeling right now that he died for me. He said last night that the greatest love one could have for his friends was to lay down their life. I have this strange feeling that he died so that I could begin to live anew.

He also mentioned something about rising on the third day--perhaps he knew what has going to happen to him. Perhaps this is not the end of the story. I have to find the others and we have to do something. It's been a strange week, a strange twenty four hours but I have this strange feeling that it will get even stranger in the days ahead. He preached love and he died in hatred. He showed compassion but he died pitiless. He died so that I might begin to live. I will keep his message alive. I will never forget this day when he died.

I'm not sure how well each one of you knew Jesus but even if you knew him a little bit I'm sure this day has to be a shock to you also. Maybe you feel the same way that I do now. Sorry that I abandoned him. But I think we should learn from what he did. He died to show us how to live. He never thought of himself, even at the very end. I think he died to show us how to live. I think we should learn from what has taken place today. I can't speak for you but only for myself. Starting today I will try to live as he asked me to and I ask you to do the same. His death must not have been in vain; we must carry on his message.

Something else is bound to happen soon. When it does I'm not going to be off in the distance. I've done that enough last night and today. I'm going to be right up front and know that his message is still alive. What a strange day it's been and I think it’s going to get even stranger in the days ahead. I just don't think this is the end of the story.

3rd Sunday of Lent (Cycle A)

Sunday, March 15, 2009
St. Clement’s Catholic Church; Saratoga Springs, NY

Exodus 17: 3—7
Psalm 95: 1 – 2, 6 – 7, 8 – 9
Romans 5: 1—2, 5 – 8
John 4: 5 – 42

Oprah Winfrey in the September 1991 issue of Good Housekeeping said: “I discovered I didn’t feel worth a damn, and certainly not worthy of love, unless I was accomplishing something. I suddenly realized I have never felt I could be loved just for being.” I had a similar thought come to me during the summer of 1985 when I was involved in a Clinical Pastoral Experience program in Boston, MA. My supervisor was a Protestant Minister and one day he jokingly asked me why I was inflicted with the Protestant work ethic. He said that we Catholics had managed to take one thing from their religion – the idea that we must be doing something at all times or else that our life has no meaning.

How often have we all felt that way, that we must be doing something good, we must be busy doing in order to earn God’s love. Today as we meet the Samaritan woman at the well we realize that God’s gift of love is waiting there for us. Not only does she not initially feel worthy of God’s love but she is constantly running trying to fill up her life with things – such as her run through a series of husbands. She keeps busy trying even to avoid human contact by coming to the well in the heat of the day since all the other women came to draw water earlier in the morning. Not only does she feel she cannot be loved by God but she extends that to every other person in her town. Her life seems to be one of turmoil and misery until she meets this remarkable man by Jacob’s well.

She doesn’t have to prove herself to him. She doesn’t have to do anything to earn his love. The only thing she has to do is accept in. At Jacob’s well her life is forever changed as she drinks in the goodness and love of Jesus Christ. She realizes for the first time in her life that she is loved just for being. Her encounter with the Lord should hopefully remind us that at the Font of our own Baptism the love of God washed over us simply because we are. We are a beloved Son or Daughter of God. We don’t need to earn his love; we just need to accept it.

Then once we accept God’s unconditional love into our lives we too must go and share that love with others. After her encounter with the Lord, the woman runs back to people she had avoided for years to share this Good News with them. (John 4: 28 – 30) She thought not about herself but about sharing the love that she had freely received. Once we accept God’s love completely it spurs us into action – even going to places where we might never have ventured before.

Today as we read about the Samaritan Woman at the Well, we Redemptorists also pause to remember one of our brothers. Today we recall St. Clement Mary Hofbauer on his feast day. Canonized 100 years ago his life is full of stories on how we strived to share the Good News of God’s love in our lives, even to places where he might never have ventured before. St. Clement took the message of Jesus Christ and the mission of the Redemptorists to “preach to the Good News to the poor” into Poland and Austria.

My most favorite story about St. Clement is the following one. On one occasion, he went begging for the orphanage he was running to a local pub. When Clement asked for a donation, one of the patrons scornfully spat beer into Clement's face. Wiping off the beer, he responded, "That was for me. Now what do you have for my boys?" The men in the bar were so astounded by the Christlike response that they gave Clement more than 100 silver coins.

May the example of the Woman at the Well of knowing she was loved just for being help us to accept God’s love in our own lives this Lenten Season. May the courageous example of St. Clement who gave his entire life in sharing that love help us to be men and women who always “preach the Good News of the Lord.”