The one who is not against us, is for us.
Today the devil is big business, whether he is in the elevator, in the classroom or in Emily Rose.
We all know the devil likes the dramatic scene, but sometimes I wonder if all the fireworks may not be a diversion, a ploy
A famous poet once said that perhaps the greatest modern trick to the devil is to convince the world that he does not exist. Thus he and we open the door for sideways evil, evil on the slant
Evil that insinuates itself into our cultural milieu and enshrines itself as our greatest virtues
Evil that tears at the very fiber of the life of the family, the community, the nation with false understandings of freedom, happiness and liberty
Evil that pollutes the soul with lies of poor self image, stumbling blocks of interior warfare
And then the words of Our Lord …
The one who is not against us, is for us.
Undoubtedly the devil is still active and he works in ways that are sometimes, perhaps always on the slant.
But good is also active today
In the quiet heroism of lives of commitment and relationship faithfully led
In the generosity of benefactors and the boldness of saints
In crooked little men like Saint Vincent de Paul, in young women like Blessed Chiara Badano
True heroic good
But likewise slanted good
Good that comes from unexpected sources, from ill speakers and unbelievers
Good that triumphs over the rhetoric of evil in smiles and glances rather than ranting words
Good that comes in the silence of anonymity to hold our hands in times of trouble, to cool our fevered heads in times of turmoil and we are reminded in a slightly slanted way that …
The one who is not against us, is for us.
Indeed God is at work in all acts of Good, the manifest and the slanted
God continues to work in our world in ways that are sometime, perhaps always slant
And inch by calculated inch, we move ever-closer to this God, living and active
Living in us and in our weird neighbors
Active in countless ways we cannot even fathom
Living in that which we, in our shortsightedness, might consider dead. In the crippled, the blind, the small and the poor
Active in relaxed ways, taciturn ways, in the crooked, in the slant
The greatest poet of the nineteenth century wrote:
Tell all the Truth but tell it slant---
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth's superb surprise
As Lightening to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind---
The one who is not against us, is for us.

Conference II
At the opening convocation for this formation year, I indicated that I would devote my rector’s conferences this year to the spirituality of the priest seen through the prism of the rite of ordination. In the first conference I focused on the first appearance of the ordinand in that rite and, in particular, the presence required of a candidate for orders. Today I would like to consider the promises made by the priest at ordination, promises which begin with the same question: Do you resolve. Before I launch into the particularities of each of these resolutions however, I would like to reflect on the possibility of resolution in our contemporary culture.
Do you resolve? It is a powerful question, made all the more so perhaps by what we may sometimes perceive as the singular lack of resolution in our culture today. There can be little doubt that in western culture today we are confronted with an unprecedented number of possibilities. At a very mundane level we are challenged by the presence of 500 channels of satellite television, by 32 screens at the suburban multiplex, by a myriad of flavors at the Cold-Stone Creamery, by a plethora of entrees at the Cheesecake Factory. We live in a world of choice. The more choices the better, until of course the sheer number and variety of choices begins to stifle us. In that instance we find ourselves channel surfing, skipping from stadium to stadium at the multiplex, paralyzed by the sheer magnitude of deciding at the Cold Stone or the Cheesecake Factory. Number and variety of choice do not necessarily make for greater freedom in decision. On a more serious level, we might examine the cultural messages that we are inundated with from infancy. We live in a culture of self-determination and self-direction, or, at least that is what we are told. You can be anything you like, choose any path and if there are no desirable options, forge your own.
The culture of choice, the sheer openness of variety has led to a decided paralysis of many in our culture, particularly the young. Discernment has become the token of the times and decision making has become a perceived lack. Many of us are motivated today to “keep our options open”. Thus we fail to make serious commitments when the opportunity arises. Many today see not only the possibility, but the necessity to move from relationship to relationship, from one career choice to another, from place to place. Sociologists tell us that the guiding principle of the millennial generation is option and so many spend their lives metaphorically channel surfing, web browsing through life. Failure to focus and to settle on one thing becomes chronic and eventually crippling. It seems as though many today have so incorporated the message that they can do anything to the point that they literally attempt to do everything and inevitably end up doing nothing. We can even witness that here. In the modern seminary, there is a bit more discerning and a bit less deciding than might be desirable.
And thus into this morass of indecision and lack of focused energy comes the decisive questions of the ordination rite: Do you resolve?
Once we have collected the spiritual and mental energy to resolve anything we can now turn to the particularities of the resolutions, the promises to be made at ordination. I will begin by looking at the resolutions of the diaconate ordination because, of course, these are the foundations upon which the priestly resolutions are built. The diaconate is not abrogated by priesthood ordination, rather priesthood ordination expands upon the promises made at diaconate ordination. The latter nuances the former.
What resolutions does the man to be ordained a deacon make? Here are the questions from the rite.
Do you resolve to be consecrated for the Church’s ministry by the laying on of hands and the gift of the Holy Spirit?
The man to be ordained is first asked to state his intentions. The bishop’s question is a test of the ordinand’s interior freedom. Is he giving himself freely to the service of the Church? In our day and age the question of external compulsion to ordination is hardly tenable, but the question of internal freedom is paramount. How free are we to make the promises and to engage the act we are about to undertake?
Interior freedom means that I have prayerfully weighed the nature of my commitment for years. I understand, as much as is humanly possible the consequences of what I have done. I know what it means to accept the responsibility of the priesthood. I know what benefits it entails and how to incorporate those benefits into my life. I also know what losses ordination entails. I know those losses and I have, in a sense, mourned those losses. The most serious obstacles to perseverance in a vocation is the unanswered question. The consequential question that I have put aside must be answered. If it is not answered before, it will certainly seek to be answered later, perhaps years later, but it will be answered. The most frequent of these unanswered questions is: What would my life have been like if … We can fill in the blank as is appropriate to our particular situations. That question may be different for each of us, similar for many of us, but necessary for all of us to answer. The fundamental question need not be answered in fact, but must be answered to the point that we are satisfied and we can make a conscientious and meaningful free act in choosing to be consecrated for the Church’s ministry.
Deterrents to freedom are numerous, but here I shall focus on two. The first deterrent to freedom is hypocrisy. This is blatant. If I present myself for ordination with no intention of accepting the consequences of that choice then I am a liar and a fraud. This might be expressed grossly in terms my intentionality or the lack of intentionality to fulfill the promises made at ordination. For example, I present myself for ordination without the intention of living the promise of celibacy. There are numerous ways that persons rationalize this choice and none of them are valid. If you do not want to live the celibate life, if you cannot live a celibate life, do not present yourself for ordination. That is not to say that we can always anticipate what will happen after ordination, we cannot know. What we do know is what we intend and what we do not intend.
Another deterrent to freedom is a false understanding of the effects of the sacramental character of ordination. Ordination changes a man ontologically. The grace of ordination has the power to transform. Of this we are certain. This is the clear teaching of the Church. However, the fundamental character of a man does not necessarily change with ordination. Unrealistic expectations of the effects of ordination are detrimental to commitment of a free act. If my character is fundamentally flawed, if I am compelled by addiction to substances or to pornography, if I suffer from compulsive behaviors: these realities are not going to disappear as though the rite of ordination were some sort of magical character corrective. If I am using the priesthood to fix myself then I am abusing the priesthood and the Church. The question of sexuality looms large in the reality of individual personalities. Priesthood cannot be burdened with unrealistic expectations for correcting my perceived flaws.
Likewise, I think we should realize that no act is ever perfectly free. We are all bound by various motivations, some that we can identify and some that we cannot. That is not the question. The question is whether or not I know myself and whether I am trying to fool myself and others by my outward actions.
The resolve to be consecrated for the Church’s ministry is a grave resolution. It is only the first step, however. The second question the bishop asks the man to be ordained is this:
Do you resolve to hold fast to the mystery of faith with a clean conscience as the Apostle urges, and to proclaim this faith in word and deed according to the Gospel and the Church’s tradition?
Here we come to a distinct challenge, a challenge that effects in a very focused way the work of this seminary day-by-day. A resolution to hold fast to the mystery of faith implies that we know what the mystery of faith is. A serious challenge that confronts us today, in our generation of information, or perhaps mis-information is the distinction of what we think we know and what is true. Often we rely upon sources of information that may or may not be reliable. Here, I will mention specifically internet sources that claim to teach authentic catholic doctrine but really only present the (often not very well informed) theological opinions of its pundits. The mystery of faith is a profound reality, a reality rooted in the Tradition of the Church, it is also an inexhaustible reality. The very nature of a mystery is to be an inexhaustible but always beckoning reality. Mystery is not that which cannot be understood but rather that which is infinitely understandable. This desire to resolve to hold fast to mystery is ironic in that what we are holding fast to is the reality of an ever more profound, ever deeper, ever broader conversion of life and thought. Of course we must know facts, but we cannot live an authentic priesthood on an intellectual life pieced together from the discarded playing cards of Catholic trivia. An authentic Catholic intellectual life is a commitment to never stop learning, to never cease inquiring and finally to be profoundly humble in knowing what I do not know. A truly educated person is one who knows precisely how much he does not know. The intellectual formation in the seminary cannot, should not, give us all the answers we need. It must instill in our hearts and minds, holy hearts and clear minds, to use the expression of Blessed John Henry Newman, a desire to be forever pursuing the shifting perspectives and the theological integrity that comprise authentic Catholic thinking. When we resolve to hold fast to the mystery of faith we are promising to remain engaged throughout our lives with the object of our inquiry, the object of revelation, the object of Tradition, Jesus the Christ.
Do you resolve to keep for ever this commitment to remain celibate as a sign of your dedication to Christ the Lord for the sake of the Kingdom of Heaven in the service of God and man?
Celibacy is, very obviously the key factor in so much of our vocational discernment. Whether or not it should be the focus of such intense scrutiny is another question. In the particular climate of the Church today, where the value, the possibility, even the morality of celibacy is under scrutiny, if not direct attack, this is a question the answer to which many present at the ordination rite will sit up and listen. What does it mean to resolve to remain celibate for the sake of the Kingdom of Heaven? How does the Kingdom depend upon the celibate witness of the priest? The resolution is a strong one, by which we choose freely to commit ourselves totally, without compromise and without reserve to the service of God and man. Our commitment to a healthy celibate life is a sure sign for the world that it is still possible to devote one’s self to God with an undivided heart. I say a healthy celibacy because it is possible as we all know to live an unhealthy celibate life. An unhealthy celibacy is always expressed by a failure to live the resolution in the technical sense. Those of our brother priests who “fall” in this regard are to be treated with charity. But another way of failing to live this resolution is to choose a closed life, a life devoid of compassion and emotion. A cold a frigid celibacy is not an option, and a healthy commitment to celibacy means a calculated look at myself. A careful analysis of my sexuality, my motivations, my strengths and weakness is essential to making a real choice for celibate living. Any attempt to bracket my feelings or my desires, to not look at the question of sexual orientation in an honest way, to cut off others from intimacy and friendship because they may form a threat to my carefully concealed and jealously guarded sexual energies is not useful to maintaining a healthy celibacy of the sake of the Kingdom. Healthy celibacy looks inviting, it seeks intimacy in its true sense, it promotes authenticity and honest. It claims its own energies for interpersonal relationships with a clear eye, a warm heart and open arms. We cannot fear sexuality or lie about our sexual attractions and expect fear and dishonesty to not be a part of our priesthood. At a recent conference I attended for rectors and vocation directors, Cardinal George indicated that he believed that the first question a man needs to ask himself in preparing for priesthood is not whether he wants to be a priest, but whether he wants to be celibate. Celibacy cannot be conceived as an afterthought to priesthood, it is primary in the life of the man considering this vocation.
Do you resolve to maintain and deepen the spirit of prayer that is proper to your way of life and, in keeping with this spirit and what is required of you, to celebrate faithfully the Liturgy of the Hours with and for the People of God and indeed for the whole world?
Prayer is the cornerstone of our lives. Will you pray the Liturgy of the Hour? Some of our brothers who would never consider a technical transgression of the celibate commitment might take lightly the promise made in this resolution spoken before God and the Holy Church. We all know the sly attitudes that sometimes accompany any discussion of the promise made by the deacon or priest to pray the Liturgy of the Hours. Such discourse undermines the seriousness of the promise made to God and His Church by the ordained minister. Rather than dwell on the possibility of failure, I think it is essential to focus on the reason for making the Liturgy of the Hours a priority in our life of faith and pursued discipleship. Our promise to pray the Liturgy of the Hours is not to be taken lightly because it is nothing less than a promise to pray with and for the People of God and the whole world. How can an authentic priestly life exist without realizing these goals? How can realizing these goals not be connected to the public life of the Church, the means by which the Church in its wisdom has fixed for joining the life of prayer in each priest together in such a beautiful synthesis? The Liturgy of the Hours is the prayer of the whole Church. It is a fellowship of prayer. Its celebration unites the priest struggling with the pastoral needs of his Midwestern congregation with the faithful efforts of priests in India, Asia, Africa, indeed in every place where holy hands are lifted in the single prayer of the Church. It is a universal prayer and points to the universal concerns of all men and women no matter their ethnicity, race or cultural place in the world. Like the Eucharist, it is a unifying, a truly Catholic mechanism of the Holy Spirit to bring together the disparate threads of humanity into one garment of petition and intercession. What is the priest or deacon saying when he chooses to divorce himself from the weave of this garment? Likewise the Liturgy of the Hours, with its basis in the Psalter of Israel, unites our hearts and minds with those of our forefathers in faith, the Chosen People of God who maintained faith through the words of the psalms with the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Praying daily the words of those psalms, steeped as they are in the very condition of humanity, its joys and hopes, its pain and tragedy, teaches us the essential lesson that in our time and place, we are not so very different from them, that the concerns of human beings striving to unite themselves to the Divine Reality are ahistorical, eternal, and permanent.
Do you resolve to conform your way of life always to the example of Christ, of whose Body and Blood you are a minister of the altar?
The response to this question posed by the bishop is slightly different from the others. It is: “I do with the help of God.” Again, it is a forceful question. Will you conform your life to the example of Christ? It is a serious question. What is the example of Christ?
It is an example of humility. Jesus Christ, the Eternal Word, the splendor of the Father’s love, the inheritor of heaven, the Son of God had the humility to be born in our likeness. This child, born in the most humble circumstances, born to impoverished, conquered people, was God himself. By virtue of who he was and is, Jesus had the right to claim the submission of men and angels. He did not, but rather submitted himself to the form of a slave for us. How can we resolve to follow the example of the lowly child of Bethlehem if we still hold tightly to vestiges of entitlement, just deserts and rank clericalism? If you wish to follow the example of Christ, become the servant of all and do that now. Do it here. We are not preparing ourselves for a life of ease and comfort here, much less of enjoying the gifts of privilege. We are preparing for slavery here, for endurance in joy for we know that there is no labor we cannot undertake with Christ that will conquer us, there is no humility we can endure that will not make us more in love with Him by drawing us closer to Him. Rather we seek service as our crown of fulfillment, the fulfillment of the resolve to conform our way of life to the example of Christ
The example of Christ is an example of ministry. Jesus did not shirk from immersing himself in the full experience of humanity. He looked at our crippled and leprous limbs. He embraced our fallenness. He sought our blindness. He confronted fully our demonic possession. He still does. Jesus ministered to those who were in need. He healed them. We are in turn called to be men of healing. So often our pride and self-will stands in our way. We cannot heal like Christ when we are continuously caught up in ideological controversies that mean nothing in the economy of charity. That is not to say that there are no principles worth fighting for and worth defending. There are. Sometimes however, what we think is central to the reality of Christ and his Church is really not. There is no theological principle worth defending when we hate our brothers and sisters in the process. There is no liturgical ideal worth promoting in which we cast suspicion and doubt on the reputations of others. The true example of Christ is that of healing and bridge building. We learn how to build bridges when we truly learn what is central to our faith and what is not. We learn healing with we reach out to the ideologically leprous brother that our false and sinful pride has taught us to disdain.
The example of Christ is the example of the passion. How many of us want to go to the cross? How many of us are willing to suffer indignity, misunderstanding, persecution for the sake of His Name? We say we are. We claim our willingness to go all the way. We say with the man in the Gospel: “Lord, I will follow you wherever you go!” We want to be heroes. We want to be saints. But let us be honest with one another. Who doesn’t have a bottom line? For many of our brothers that line is quite close to the surface. We know that a certain number of our men who leave seminaries each year do not persevere. What is the bottom line? Perhaps it is obedience. I choose not to go to this assignment. Perhaps it is celibacy. Perhaps it is the unanswered question I spoke about earlier. Perhaps it is comfort and happiness. Perhaps it is my family. Do we have a bottom line? If so, we are not conformed to the example of Christ who gave everything, everything brothers and sisters for us. That is the example to which we are called. Can you give it all? Can you bleed for the world? Can you endure shame? Can you die for the people, a people who may never understand or appreciate your sacrifice? Can you live without daily affirmation? Can you endure the nakedness of transparency? Are you truly resolved, are you resolving to conform your life to the example of Christ in his humility, his ministry and his passion. Are you, with the help of God?
In conclusion today I would like to speak a few words as pastor of this community, words I hope you will take in the spirit with which I offer them. First let me state that this is a good community. This is a healthy community. This is a formation community of which I can be justifiably proud. I believe that it is a community that is built on mutual trust. Brothers and sisters, we must trust one another and rely on one another. It is also built on honesty, integrity and transparency. Trust and transparency, the ability to share struggles and the honest handling of issues is essential to what we do. What I am about to say does not come from any issue or question or problem that I perceive as existing here. What I am about to say to a healthy community of faith comes from the conviction that I have that the effectiveness of the life of a seminary comes from clarity. As your rector and pastor, I want to be clear about two things. The first is the values that we must uphold in this seminary. As an arm of formation for the Catholic Church, we are anxious to uphold the interests of the Church first and foremost. The needs of the Church come first. That is a clear and central principle of the Catholic understanding of vocation. Second, clarity about our purpose here also means that I have the responsibility to point to a few principles that in a community of Christian living and a community of formation must be considered non-negotiable. By non-negotiable I am stating without hesitation and confidently that the serious infraction of these ideals means that the individual can no longer live here and be formed for ministry. I also want to give you concrete examples of what a serious infraction would entail. That is for the good of the Church, that is meeting the needs of the Church
The first of these principles is chastity. Living a chaste life here is non-negotiable. It must be. Failure to live a chaste life, whether that is through overt sexual activity, a seemingly incurable addiction to pornography, inappropriate humor, or the inability to deal with others in a sexually appropriate way either physically or verbally, is an infringement not only of Christian values but on the trust we must have in one another. Living a chaste life is not easy. Many here struggle with temptations and overcome them. It is a violent affront to those who struggle heroically to live the ideal of chastity when a person takes that ideal less than seriously. Transgressions against chastity that warrant a severing of the formation relationship include any physical gential activity, but would also include aggressive physical advances that are unwanted and going to establishments where casual sexual relationships are the order of the day.
A second principle that insures the good order of a house of formation is sobriety. While the use of alcohol is not regulated as in some other institutions, an incident of public drunkenness is unacceptable. Alcohol, if it is used, must be used responsibly. For some, because of their particular circumstances this applies in a more concrete way. Sobriety is the mark of a good priest and no priest should find his reputation damaged by the improper use of alcohol or any other substances. Likewise the use of any illegal substance is unacceptable. The priest needs good judgment and artificial means of compromising that judgment is behavior incompatible with the priestly state.
A third important principle of this community is charity toward others. Showing blatant disrespect to others through acts of physical or verbal abuse is unacceptable behavior that indicates a seminarian’s lack of ability to be formed for the priesthood.
Again, I mention these non-negotiable values and the behaviors that compromise these values for the sake of clarity. As we progress in our resolve to live the life of discipleship in the particular vocation of the priesthood, we are called to an increasing accountability for our actions.
The conference today has had a very serious tone. I know that. These are serious resolutions. These are powerful questions and I believe they stand at the heart of the spirituality of the priest. These resolutions do not originate with rite of ordination, it is necessary to begin to live these resolutions here and now, in the seminary. Our resolution needs to be firm and our purpose needs to be clear. We are not here to forestall the inevitability of the call of vocation, choosing to live our lives according to our distinct design until such time as we must make a permanent commitment. We are called to begin now conforming our lives to the expectations of the Church that we hope to serve. The years of formation cannot be reckoned as a kind of extended bachelor party, a time of revelry before the knot must finally be tied, a knot seemingly wrapped around the windpipes of our personality and freedom. The period of formation in the seminary is a time of testing and trying on, a time to prepare for what we must embrace so that by the time of ordination we slip into these resolutions with the ease of putting on an old pair of shoes, old loafers broken in by time and solid use. None of us should experience the life of the ordained minister as a jolt to who we are, rather we should spend our time here carefully crafting who we are into who we will be on the day of our ordinations. All of this comes at a price, the price of ephemeral freedoms and of doing our will. It comes at the price of temporal notions of happiness and fulfillment in pursuit of a deeper happiness, a more profound fulfillment. It comes at the price of sacrificing what I think is right and true and good for what the Holy Church authentically teaches as orthodox, solid, and real. In a word it comes as an act of authentic piety, being true to form, in the classical sense. Do you resolve? It is a serious question that we must ask ourselves now. Our resolution is not something we can accomplish on our own. Rather, we put ourselves into the hands of the Church, particularly its triumphant members, the holy saints who day and night intercede for us in the presence of the One Divine Father. We depend upon them and in particular as we approach the month of October, that most gracious lady, our advocate upon whom we cast all our care as we say: Hail Mary ...

Never will I forget a thing you have done
The threat of the prophet Amos sticks out on the page like a sore thumb of indictment, shattering our delusions of anonymity, and our illusions of indecipherability.
There it is: Never will I forget a thing you have done.
It is a palpable reminder of a reality we might otherwise be quite content to put out of our minds, the reality that:
God knows us and we often like to forget that God knows us, but He knows us.
God knows it all.
He knows every sin we have ever committed even the ones we like to horde to ourselves like secret treasure
God knows the fortunes we hide in grudges, old hurts and pains, neglects gone by
God knows the receipts we like to rewrite creating new narratives from our embarrassment, new biographies from our embroilments
God knows every malicious thing we have perpetrated, every slander, meanness, ugly thought
God knows our playground bulliness and our adolescent heartlessness
God knows about our e bombs
God knows what internet sites we like to visit when we think we have hidden them from everyone elsemus
God knows what occupies our minds in the secret hours, deliberate deliberations of hatred, revenge, sourness and sordidness of every species
God knows the musings of our souls, the secret music of resentment, the melodies of envy
God knows, God knows
Never will I forget a thing you have done.
God knows us and we often like to forget that God knows us, but He knows us.
God knows us in every way
He also knows the secret good we do, the random acts of kindness and anonymous acts of sincere concern
He knows the real hurts we have endured as children, as teenagers, as adults
He knows the pains we clutch to our hearts, pains of rejection and being outcasts
He knows the longing we have to love Him, to serve Him, to be close to Him even when we seem so far away
He knows the dreams that lie behind our bravado, the tears that stain the pillows of our wounded souls
He knows our loves and our hates, our tortures and our joys.
And he promises
Never will I forget a thing you have done.
God knows us and we often like to forget that God knows us, but He knows us.
God knows us so well that he has the ability; we might say the providence to turn even our dishonest wealth into treasure for the Kingdom.
Because he knows us, he can make all the disillusionment, all the sin of our lives into a powerhouse of insight into the broken hearts, the distended spirits of our brothers and sisters who cry out for dignity and bread
Because he knows us, he can see our secret longing for acceptance, our desire to be respected and loved even as we reject others in hatred, as we disrespect our neighbors
Because he knows us, he can take the trash of our past, our secret lives, our hidden claws and transform it into a glorious treasure of compassion for others who have labored under the same Sisyphean burdens
Because he knows us, he can transform our misery into ministry, our myopicity into mystery, our self musing into mission
Because he knows us, he can recreate
Because he knows us, he can understand
Because he knows us, he can love
Because he can recreate, we can be instruments of renewal and revival
Because he can understand we can be the vessels of his compassion
Because he loves, we love
We can love
We can be changed
We can be saints
We can be
Never will I forget a thing you have done. It is a threat and a promise for all of us weak willed and strong, burdened and burdening, reachers and graspers, crying out for understanding in the memory of God even as we hear these words spoken again and again: Do this in remembrance of me.
God knows us and we often like to forget that God knows us, but He knows us. Thank God.

What Shepherd?
What Woman?
What Father?

The Gospel today is filled with questions, questions that beg answers, questions offering numerous possibilities.

The problem with the questions posed by Jesus in today’s Gospel is that, unlike his original hearers, we already know the answers.

What Shepherd having 100 sheep …

The answer of course is any shepherd would leave the 99 and go in search of the lost sheep, that is IF you are already privy to Jesus’ way of thinking about things.

We know that the shepherd, who is God, seeks out the lost and brings the sinner home.

But if you are looking at this question from another angle, perhaps the angle of Jesus’ original hearers, a different answer is certainly in order.

What shepherd having 100 sheep ..

The answer is NO INTELLIGENT SHEPHERD.

Who would risk leaving 99 sheep to the elements or the wolves to go after one? Count the one as a loss and move on. Shepherding is a calculus of loss and gain. It’s not worth the risk.

It’s not rational, but that may very well be the message of the Gospel, love trumps reason.

And what woman having lost a coin …

From the other side of the Gospel, of course, she would sweep the house, but in fact, it may not be worth a day’s baking, a day’s washing, a day’s work. Count the coin as a loss and move on. Sweeping is a calculus of loss and gain. It’s not worth the risk It’s not rational, but that may very well be the message of the Gospel, love triumphs over reason.

And what Father …

What father would give away half his fortune to a son who had the impunity to ask for it, the irresponsibility to take it, and the insolence to spend it on loose women, drugs and booze.

And then what father would sit on the porch and wait for the boy to come home so he could run out to meet him, wrap his arms around him, and reward him. Certainly no reasonable father. Count the son as a loss and move on. After all, I have another more responsible son. Fathering is a calculus of loss and gain. It’s not worth the risk.

It’s not rational, but that may very well be the message of the Gospel, love tramples reason. Love triumphs over reason. Love trumps reason every time.

Love always trumps pure reason, not because we should be irrational if we want to be disciples of Jesus but because there is more to the human and divine experiences than pure reason. Not everything makes sense. Not everything in Jesus’ world can be covered, uncovered, recovered through the application of the pure principles of law. As Cardinal Newman once said: I do not want to be converted by a smart syllogism .

Reason shows us what is possible and impossible
Love shows us that with God all things are possible

Reason defines
Love reaches out

Reason categorizes
Love cauterizes with the burning zeal of the real.

Reason clarifies
Love confounds

Reason completes
Love catapults us to the threshold of revelation

Reason fixes our minds
Love frees our minds

Reason tells us that we have nothing before us here but bread and wine and not very good bread and wine at that.
Reason tells us that the one whom we worship cannot be God and a man at the same time

Reason tells us that one is never three and three is never one.

But love tells us that at this altar we come into contract with the very source of Love, Jesus the savior who died for us and whose sacrifice of love is revisited in this place
Love tells us that the living God engages humanity, died for humanity, rose for humanity and is ever searching, sweeping, waiting for humanity
Love tells us that the love of God experienced in the life of the Holy Trinity, the unfeigned love, the reasonable and unreasonable love, the pure love is our inheritance, ours to squander, ours to replenish in our unending, unendable return to the father’s arms.

Here today
We celebrate a feast of love that doesn’t always make sense, in purely rational terms, but rather cavorts along the edges of our minds to penetrate the very cords of our hearts, our imaginations
Love that improvises on the rational harmonics of our experience, that riffs our melodies.
This is a feast of love that doesn’t subvert rationality, but reminds us daily in small things that there is more to us than that.
This is a feast of love that calls us in our consuming the bread of angels to become bread, become bracing wine, and become love for one another.
And how does that look shepherds?
How does that look sweepers?
How does that look future fathers of America?

It looks like concern that prompts detour when our eyes should be fixed on the prize
It looks like smiles of understanding in times of doubt and trouble
It looks like men willing to reach out always in service to the other when the world tells us to take care our ourselves
It feels like the embrace of strength on shaking shoulders
It feels like a hand lifting us up when we have fallen, slid so low
It feels like the trample of feet running to meet God in running to meet a brother, a sister in need
It seems like craziness in the pure desire to give more, to offer more, more, more, more
It seems like the old questions are no longer meaningful and we possess answers to questions we have never asked.
It seems like our world is slipping away, that our rationality is slipping away and we are falling, falling down the slope of compassion, falling into the passion of Christ

By grace this community is built upon the foundation of that sacrificial love
Here we search for the lost sheep, knowing that the 99 are in the hands of God
Here we sweep the house for the lost coin of vocation knowing that the bread will be baked and the washing will be done, by God, yes, by God
Here we welcome again and again the prodigal, the stubborn, the proud, the repentant, the unrepentant, the sinner and the saint with the firm faith, the blessed assurance that love triumphs over reason as surely as we can make no sense of the cross of Jesus but gazing on it know that there is one real thing, one true thing, one honest thing, one unselfish thing left in the world and we have access to that, access to the point that we may finally come to realize that the rationality of the Kingdom is in fact our ability to unite our reasonable minds, our bodies, our being sheep, coins, lost boys to the blazing reality of that same cross, to know that the rationality of the kingdom is love

What shepherd?
What woman?
What father?

We know the answers, and we are compelled to live them, beginning here at this altar, drawing from the magnificent font of His love, the strength, the courage, and faith to be shepherds, sweepers, fathers in a lost world.

Whenever I go to a new place where folks speak a different language than my native Southern English, there are a few important phrases that I need to know. These include:

Where is the bus stop?
Where is the bathroom?
Is desert included with dinner?

And perhaps most importantly:

How much does it cost?

In a consumer culture, we are always, well, consumed, with the cost of things. Are we getting a bargain or are we getting cheated? Can I get a better deal over there? Is this really worth the money I am going to spend? What is the exchange rate?

The cost of things is often uppermost in our minds, those minds that become a perpetual calculation of loss and gain.

In the Gospel, Jesus is honest about the cost of being his follower.
Today’s passage stands in the middle of the long journey that Jesus has been undertaking with his chosen band of disciples, a journey that began in Chapter Nine, verse fifty one.

In Chapter Nine, Jesus set his face to go toward Jerusalem. It will take him ten chapters to get there. He has ten chapters to prepare his followers for the ordeal that is to come, because when the prophets go to Jerusalem, they go for one thing. We know that one thing but Jesus’ followers are mostly gentiles, they do not.

Today Jesus offers these erstwhile yet perhaps somewhat naïve disciples a lesson on the cost of things.

What is necessary to be a follower of Jesus? Losing everything.

What is the cost of discipleship? It is abandoning a reliance on the natural bonds of family and home. Jesus calls the disciples to put him first and if that means leaving the others behind that’s what it means.
Harsh we say, yet true.

Nothing can separate me from Jesus and his mission, even father and mother.
Nothing can keep me from God’s purpose, even a longing for marriage and family. Nothing can keep me from God’s will, even that which we hold most sacred in the world.

Know the cost of what you are doing, Jesus says. Know the cost. Feel the cost. If there is benefit, experience it to the full. If there is loss, mourn it and move forward. Preaching the message of the Kingdom is the most important thing we can do. It is all we can do. It is all we have to do and false understandings of what is meaningful and what is important in this world are distractions and must be rooted out, plundered, and destroyed.

Our task here is the preparation and inspiration of fearless advocates of God’s plan, of his initiative, of his gracious will realized in the Kingdom he has established.

Our task here is the salvation of souls, lost souls, souls enmeshed in the confusion of false Gods, empty promises, and dead ends.

Our task here is evangelization, of telling the world that if they risk abandoning all, they will gain an everlasting inheritance, fail to acknowledge that risk and gamble on the ephemeral and the passing and all is lost.

Our task here is that through our work, through our words, through our preaching, through our prayer, through our study one thing and one thing only will be realized. Jesus Christ, and him crucified.

Take up your cross, Jesus says, because I have taken up my cross and will be nailed to that cross for the salvation of the world.

Leave your family behind, I have left my Father behind, I have condescended to leave the home of my heavenly habitation to serve you, to be found in the form of a slave, to suffer and die for you.

Prepare the foundations of your soul to have built upon it the edifice of God’s reign living and breathing in your flesh and blood, as I have offered my flesh and blood to build the Holy Church, the everlasting dwelling place of the Spirit

Give and give more, give everything, and never count the cost. I will never count the cost, Jesus says, when I get to Jerusalem, when we get to Jerusalem.

Be for me and me alone, as I am for you and you alone, suffering the indignity of a criminal when you are the criminal, dying the death of a thief, when you have stolen your very life from the God who made you.

In the Gospel today, the disciples are half way there, just half way there. We too are half way there because:
We hold back, putting our lives in the safe deposit box of our own values and creativity
We fail to give God everything, absolutely everything
Out of fear, out of faithlessness, out of selfishness
We hold back
Nickeling and diming the slot machines of fortune and blessing
Clutching to our chests grudges, old hurts, prejudice, sour dispositions
Conserving our way into oblivion.
Because, in all our hearts is a dead place that like a stone keeps us from soaring up to God
Jesus says: Come with me now, father and mother, sister and brother, they can come with us or stay home
In our spirits is a leaden earthboundedness and Jesus says: Dare to soar! Take the chance
Give up your life and you will truly learn how to live
Sacrifice yourself completely to the service of your brothers and sisters and learn the meaning of authentic discipleship

There is an amazing book by the Lutheran theologian and pastor, Dietrich Bonheoffer called: The Cost of Discipleship

In the book there is a line so haunting, so chilling and so true that I find myself returning to it again and again. It has become like a mantra for my life and my ministry. It is an axiom that I know I can never live up to, but that I know I must continually strive toward.

Bonheoffer said: When God calls a man he bids him come and die.


In the foreign culture of discipleship formation there are a few important phrases that you need to know, or at least I do. These include:

Where is the bus stop?
Where is the bathroom?
Is desert included with dinner?

And perhaps most importantly

How much does it cost?

What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth?
Have you come to destroy us?
The question of the demons in today’s Gospel is ironic. Have you come to destroy us. The Greek word for demon, daimon, means, one that breaks down or destroys.
They destroyers are to be destroyed because Jesus is the Holy One of God.
When we think of Jesus we hardly ever think of his destructive power. We like to take our messiahs a bit more gently, more cuddly, laughing, hanging out with sheep and children. Kind, sweet, well-groomed.
The explosive message of the Gospel shows us a different side of Our Lord, however, a side that might make us a bit uncomfortable.
There can be little doubt of Jesus’ destructive power. Whether you are a demon, a malady, or just a generic sin-encrusted so and so. Jesus WANTS to break us down.
For those called to its saving message the Gospel cannot be mere comfort, as we like to think of comfort because the mission of Jesus is too important, too central to our eschatological condition. Jesus WANTS to break us down.
He wants to create a new heaven and a new earth where righteousness reigns. Breaking down our old categories and instilling in us new realities
Jesus wants to remove from us the sting of sin, the stench of death, blasting apart our carefully constructed justifications and building us into his likeness
Jesus wants to light a fire and burn away every vestige of half heartedness, timidity and fear making us holy, pure, saints
Jesus wants to stir within our hearts the deep fires of evangelization, apologetics, sanctity
Jesus definitely wants something and what Jesus wants, he gets. He wants to break us down
He breaks us down in our weakness and makes us strong in his love
He e breaks us down in our hiddeness and makes us bold in his spirit
He breaks us down in our sinfulness and washes us clean in his blood
And so
When we least expect it
Jesus catches us in his destructive power
When we are not anticipating it
Jesus surprises us with his cleansing power
When we can hardly fathom it
Jesus stretches out his hand to us with his healing power
What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth?
Have you come to destroy us?
The career of Jesus is one of destruction and reconstruction
He deconstructs a people laid low by Adam’s sin
He reconstructs us in the image of the immortal God
He deconstructs our lack of faith, hope and love
He reconstructs us in the very potency of God, creating new hearts in us.
And we are participatory pawns in this magnificent career, this singular cosmic engagement
He’s doing it even now because this of course is the very dynamism of seminary formation, the seed broken apart in order to create something new
In this celebration, through the sacrifice of the Mass he breaks down the stony barriers of our individualism and by feeding us the dangerous food of the Eucharist, he makes us what we truly are. He refashions us as the Body of Christ.
What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth?
Have you come to destroy us?
Yes.