Thursday, September 30, 2004

St. Jerome

September 30, 2004 Memorial of St. Jerome

Jesus has started recruiting disciples for His new church. Today he has appointed seventy-two. He’s sending them out into the field in pairs to the towns and places He plans to visit. He tells them “behold, I am sending you like lambs among wolves.”

We know that the Holy Land was a dangerous place in Jesus’ time, what with the robbers, and the Roman soldiers. Plus, Jesus had more than His share of enemies. So He sends the seventy-two on ahead. They’re His advance party. If everything goes well, then Jesus will follow.

He tells them that when anyone welcomes them, they should accept their hospitality, cure the sick and tell them that “The Kingdom of God is at hand for you.” That’s why they call it preaching the ‘good news.’

But if anyone doesn’t welcome them, then they should go out into the street and shake the dust off their sandals. Their message: “The Kingdom of God is at hand, but not for you.” It will be better for Sodom on that day than it will be for you. No wonder He had them travel in pairs.

Imagine how strong those seventy-two’s faith must have been. They were willing to go out into dangerous territory with no money bag, no sack, no sandals. They were to approach total strangers with Jesus’ message, knowing very well that they could be killed at any time. If they weren’t invited in for dinner, then they had to tell those people basically that they were going to Hell. Better for Sodom than for you.

Over the years we’ve been taught that Jesus and His disciples were kind, loving, peaceful people, which I’m sure they were. But being a disciple was no job for wimps. It was hard work and it was dangerous. Following Christ has never been easy.

Today is the Memorial of St. Jerome. Jerome was a Doctor of the Church. That means he was a smart guy. Jerome’s claim to fame is that he translated the Bible into Latin. He was also a monk. He lived alone in the desert for many years.

In two weeks, I will be going to Gethsemani, Kentucky to spend a week with the Trappist monks. There’s another group of Christ’s followers who haven’t chosen the easy path. Their life consists of work and prayer. Their day starts at 3:15 in the morning with the Vigil prayer. They meet in the chapel seven times each day for the Liturgy of the Hours and attend mass. In between they work, pray and study.

It’s amazing how peaceful it is and how happy they all seem to be. But, it’s definitely a life that most of us wouldn’t choose. But, if you offered one of them a chance to live the our lifestyle, they wouldn’t even consider it. Their commute to work is a walk down a long corridor. The only bill they have is their tax bill. There is no television and no radio. They do have access to newspapers, but I don’t know if they read them or not. The thing I find interesting is that there are young men there. There are still people who are just as willing to follow Christ as there were 2,000 years ago when the seventy-two set out in pairs to go ahead of Him.

So, as we prepare to receive Him in the Eucharist, ask yourself, what are you willing to do for Him? And, remember what He did for us.













Monday, September 27, 2004

What Was He Thinking?

Homily for Tuesday of the 26th Week of Ordinary Time

Sometimes you have to wonder exactly what Jesus was thinking when he picked the twelve apostles. Today’s Gospel is from the 9th chapter of Luke. Luke begins this chapter with Jesus giving the twelve power and authority. They can now exorcise demons and cure the sick. Then He commissions them to proclaim the good news.

So what happens next? In yesterday’s reading, an argument breaks out among the Apostles about who is the greatest. They’re like a bunch of kids. “I’m the best.” “No, I am.” No, me.” Jesus must have just shaken His head in disbelief. “Where have these guys been? Have they listened to anything I’ve said? Were they on vacation, or asleep, or what?” So He tells them that the least among them will be the greatest.

Then, in the very next paragraph, John tells Jesus that they’ve seen someone casting out demons in His name. “We tried to prevent him because he does not follow in our company.”, John says. In other words, “You said we could cast out demons. That’s our job. Make him stop. He doesn’t have power and authority. Wah, wah, wah.”
Jesus tells John to get over it. If he’s not against us, he must be for us. There are plenty of demons to go around.

Now today, here comes John, this time with his brother James. The Samaritans won’t welcome Jesus into their village. They’re Samaritans. He’s a Jew. He’s on his way to Jerusalem. Their response shouldn’t be a big surprise.

There’s a reason why we have the story of the Good Samaritan. Samaritans and Jews didn’t get along. The Good Samaritan was good because he ignored the bad feelings that he was supposed to have for the injured traveler and helped him anyway. If Samaritans and Jews didn’t hate each other, there would be no story.

So, anyway, the Samaritans don’t want to welcome Jesus. John and James think their response should be to set them on fire. “C’mon Jesus. Let us set them on fire. Please. We can do that. You gave us the power. Just this once. Can’t we set them on fire?”

Luke doesn’t tell us what Jesus’ expression was, but it probably wasn’t a smile. He just says that “Jesus rebuked them.” I’ll bet He rebuked them. Kind of like Sheriff Taylor with Barny and Gomer.

We know from Mark’s Gospel that these are the same two guys, the sons of Zebedee, who wanted to sit at Jesus’ right and left side when He came into His glory. His answer that time was “You don’t know what you’re asking.” Of course when the other ten heard John and James, then they got mad because they thought they should sit next to Jesus.

Jesus had to call all twelve of them together and tell them “Whoever wishes to be first among you will be the slave of all.” Heaven will be a wonderful place. There are no bad seats.

So, what was Jesus thinking when he chose these guys? I don’t know, but I imagine it was about the same thing he was thinking when he chose you and me. “They’re not perfect. Sometimes they do some pretty stupid things. They have a hard time understanding what I’m trying to tell them. Sometimes they don’t even listen.

“The day will come when they’ll actually turn their backs on me and run away. Some will even betray me. But, I still love them. I’m even willing to die for them.”

He calls all of us to proclaim the good news, each of us in our own way. We should check our egos at the door. He loves every one of us enough to give his life for us.

No one is entitled to a better place in heaven than anyone else. Either you’re in or you’re out. No box seats. No terrace reserved. Just eternal happiness. That should be enough.

And, no, you don’t get to set anybody on fire. God will take care of that Himself.


Sunday, September 26, 2004

26th Sunday in Ordinary Time--Deacon Collection

September 26, 2004

“Woe to the complacent in Zion!”

We know that whenever the Lord spoke through the profits and he started with the word “Woe”, what followed was probably not going to be a good thing. In the first reading today, He’s saying “Woe to the complacent of Zion“, the northern kingdom of Israel. He goes on to warn them of what is to come if they don’t change their ways. But this happened an awfully long time ago, about 3,000 years give or take a few hundred. Suppose we put this first reading into a modern context.

Do you ever watch “The Simpsons?” If, not, do you at least know who the characters are? OK, suppose we rewrite Amos’ words as they would relate to this 21st century cartoon show:

“Woe to you, Homer Simpson. You recline on the couch, remote control in one hand, Duff beer in the other. You eat Krusty Burgers by the bag and waste time hanging out with your friends at Moe’s tavern. You sing along with the oldies on the car radio with a voice that even a mother couldn’t love. You had better change your ways or you’re going to be sorry.

We know from history that the northern Israelites did pay for their sins. The northern kingdom was captured and destroyed by the Assyrians. Homer is always getting in trouble, but nothing quite that serious.
In one episode, Homer splits his pants getting ready for church and decides to stay home. He says that if God wanted people to worship Him for an hour a week, he should have made the week an hour longer. One thing leads to another and after a few Sunday mornings reclining on the couch, Homer decides to start his own religion. He says that his church has the advantage of no hell and no kneeling.

To make a long story short, a few weeks later, Homer is at home on Sunday morning, watching television while the family is at church and he falls asleep. His lighted cigar sets the couch on fire, which spreads to the entire house. Homer is convinced that it’s divine retribution and falls to his knees and asks for God’s forgiveness. He wants God to tell him what He wants him to do now, saying, “O Spiteful One, show me who to smite, and he shall be smoten.”

But Homer is really a loveable guy and the truth is that he and his family spend more time in church and asking God for help than just about any other family on television. The show makes fun of religion, but it never makes fun of God.

I can relate to Homer, because at one time I stayed home on Sunday mornings while my family went to mass. I never went so far as to start my own church, but I did spend a lot of time on the couch with the remote control. As you can see, I spend my weekends a little differently now.

That brings me to what I really want to talk to you about. Today, in the Archdiocese of St. Louis, there are 270 men who have decided to get up off the couch, lay down the remote control and do something for God and His church. They call us called permanent deacons.

Sometimes people ask, what exactly is a deacon? Other than reading the Gospel and preaching the homily, what do you do? In an emergency a lay person can perform a baptism, and at a wedding, it’s actually the bride and groom who perform the sacrament. What’s the big deal?

Well, first, like a priest we receive the sacrament of Holy Orders. Through the laying on of hands, we receive a special grace that marks us permanently as a minister of Christ, especially Christ the servant. While the priest is first and foremost a minister of the Eucharist, deacons are ministers of service.

By assisting the priest at mass, we’re supposed to be a reminder to you that we’re all called to serve one another. That’s why the deacon is the one who proclaims at the end of mass, “Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.”

Along with our work in the parish, many of us have other ministries as well. I’m one of two deacons who assist the chaplain at St. Joseph’s Hospital in Kirkwood. Other deacons serve the homeless and those in prison. Deacons are involved in campus ministry and even at the chapel at the airport. But, again, lay people can do those things too. What makes a deacon different?

One big difference is that a lay person can stop anytime he or she wants to. If you get tired of volunteering at the hospital, or being a lector, or doing anything else for the church, you can just quit. Deacons, on the other hand, are assigned by the Archbishop. We pretty much get to choose our ministry, but it has to be approved by the Archbishop. Each year we fill out a “ministry agreement” where we, along with the pastor and anyone else we report to, agree on what we’re going to do for the next twelve months. If you read the review, you may have noticed a little box called “Archbishop’s Appointments”. If a deacon’s assignment is changed, it shows up in that little box. We can quit an assignment, but we have to get permission form the Archbishop and then see our names in the paper.

That one’s easy to explain. The thing that’s more difficult to describe is the grace of the Holy Spirit that is conferred at ordination. I can feel and see the Spirit’s presence in my life. There is a spiritual strength that wasn’t there before ordination. I constantly find myself in situations where I can be of help to people.

As an example, just this past Tuesday I was at St. Joseph’s. My job there is to do what are called “initial visits.” Our goal is to visit each patient at least once. If I find that there’s a serious need, then I refer the patient to the chaplain, or someone else who really knows what they’re doing. I rarely see a patient a second time, or see a patient that’s already been seen. Anyway, Tuesday evening, I got on the elevator with a patient. She’s in her early forties and was dragging her IV tree back to her room. She asked me if I was a priest and I told her “no” that I’m a deacon. She asked me if I would come and see her and I said I would.

When I checked my list, I saw that someone had already visited her. If I hadn’t run into her in the elevator, I wouldn’t have gone to see her. When I did go visit her, I learned that, among other problems, she’s anorexic. A lot of you know that my daughter, Megan, has struggled with that disease, so I know a little bit about it. Megan’s doing well now, but she was very sick for a long time.

Without going into a lot of details, the patient was very down, and I think I was able to help her. She asked me about Megan’s recovery and how she’s doing now. I told her Megan’s story and that she is now a student at Mizzou, majoring in nutrition and diet, hoping for a career helping young people with eating disorders. The story definitely cheered the patient up and she told me that maybe she would look into ways of helping others.

You can say it was a coincidence that I ran into this woman in the elevator. You can say it’s a coincidence that I had a daughter with a story that helped her. You can say it was just luck. But this kind of thing has happened to me too many times for me to believe it’s anything but the Holy Spirit working through me to help people who are in need. And other deacons will tell you the same thing.

Being ordained is a lot like being married. When Jan and I were married almost 36 years ago, we made a lifelong commitment to one another. Has it been easy? Of course not. Anything worth doing usually takes effort. But the sacrament of marriage confers a special grace that helps a couple get through the hard times. When I became a deacon, I made a similar commitment to the church. Being a deacon, like being a husband or wife, is about putting the other person’s needs first.

Married deacons always have to remember that we were husbands first. The marriage is always supposed to come before the ministry. In fact, I couldn’t have been ordained without Jan’s written permission. That’s the way the church wants it. But in practice, it doesn’t always work out that way. Our wives are a very important part of what we do.

So, you’re probably asking yourself, “Ok, deacon. What’s all this got to do with me?”

Well, today I’d like to ask you to do three things. First, pray for Mike Coppage and me, for the other 203 ordained deacons in the Archdiocese and for the 65 men who are currently in formation. We need all the help we can get.

Second, if you are a man over the age of 35, ask God what He wants you to do with your life. Becoming, and being, a deacon are not easy. It takes five years of study to prepare for ordination and a lot of time and effort after. But, if that’s what God wants you to do, the rewards far outweigh the cost. If you have any questions, Deacon Mike or I would be glad to talk to you.

And, finally, you may have noticed that you have an envelope in your packet for a special deacon collection next weekend. I mentioned the cost of preparing for ordination. You may not realize that a large part of the cost of training is paid by the candidate himself. It includes classes, books, travel and other incidental expenses. We don’t want money to be the reason for someone not answering the call. The ADA used to cover the cost of running the program, but that’s no longer true. We still receive funds from the ADA, but not enough to fully fund the program. We need your help.

What do you get in return? In the Archdiocese of St. Louis, the 205 active deacons provide over 12,000 hours of service each month. That’s 144,000 hours per year, or the equivalent of 72 full-time employees working for the Archdiocese, most without pay. Those 72 full-time employees would cost the church over $2,000,000 per year!

Closer to home, I think Father Gary would agree that it would be difficult, if not impossible, for him to run this parish, teach at DuBourg and minister to the students at Webster University without help. It’s just not possible to be in more than one place at a time. By doing the things that we’re able to do, Mike and I help make it possible for Father to do the things that only a priest can do.

As long as there is a shortage of priestly vocations, deacons will be asked to help keep parishes open and active.

So, please be as generous as you can next weekend. But, your prayers are the most important thing. Pray for those of us who are already ordained and for those in formation. And, please pray for our families, too. They have to put up with a lot. Even though the family is supposed to come first, sometimes it doesn’t work out that way.

I couldn’t do what I do without my family’s support. Jan’s there for me (and for you) spiritually and emotionally every day. Plus, she keeps things going at home when I’m out being a deacon. My kids have been very supportive, even when they know I’m talking about them in my homilies. Most important of all, Jan’s prayers and her good example are the reason I’m in church this morning, not home reclining on the couch.


Tuesday, September 07, 2004

September 7, 2004

Tuesday of the Twenty-third week in Ordinary Time 9/7/04

One thing section I always read in the St. Louis Review is the “Archbishop’s Appointments.” Not the Archbishop’s Schedule, that’s something else. His appointments are the comings and goings of priests and deacons. It’s kind of like reading the obituary every morning to make sure your name isn’t there. I want to be sure he’s not sending me somewhere else.

In Friday’s review, there was this one-sentence entry:
“Rev. Brian A. Kennebeck, at his own request, is granted a leave of absence from the active priestly ministry, effective Aug. 31, 2004.”

That’s it. One sentence. When Brian was ordained, just two years ago, his picture was on the front page of this same newspaper. His ordination was the topic of Cardinal Rigali’s column the week before. His ordination was a great celebration. There’s nothing quite like an ordination at our Cathedral. 2002 was a good year. Five men were ordained on that Saturday in May. Now, two years later, one of them has requested to be relieved of his priestly ministry.

I know a lot of priests. But, Fr. Kennebeck was the first person I ever knew who became a priest. Brian was a member of the Young Catholic Musicians. I knew him and his family, though not well, from the time he was a teenager. They were a very devout family and it wasn’t a surprise to learn that Brian was headed to the seminary.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus chooses His twelve Apostles. I don’t know, but I can imagine that it must have been very hard to tell Jesus “no” when He was present on this earth. He chose Peter and Andrew, James, John, Philip and Bartholomew, Matthew, Thomas, James, and the two Judases (Judai?), one the son of James and the other Judas Iscariot. He looked them in the eye and said “I want you”, like the old World War II recruiting posters with Uncle Sam pointing his finger. How could they say “no”.

Today it’s different. Jesus speaks to us in more subtle ways. I have a friend who swears Jesus woke him up in the middle of the night and told him He wanted him to become a deacon. For most of the rest of us, it’s not that easy. If we’re not paying attention, we can miss Jesus’ call altogether.

We all know there’s a shortage of priests in the church. They say there’s a shortage of vocations. Jesus isn’t calling people like He used to. I don’t believe that. I think He’s still calling, we just aren’t listening.

He’s not just calling priests, deacons and religious. He’s calling all of us for something. It may be to be husbands and wives, it may be to be parents. It could be to serve our country in the armed forces, or it could be for some other career. He may be calling us to be in the choir or on the parish council. But he IS calling each of us for something. He’s doing it all the time.

So, as difficult as it is sometimes to discern what Jesus is asking of us, it’s easy to miss the call. We may miss it, or we may think He’s asking us to something that He really isn’t.

Priests spend nine years in the seminary. Deacons spend five years in formation. That’s usually enough time to decide if you’re making the right choice. Sometimes it isn’t.

Future priests spend nine years learning how to be shepherds of the flock. They study theology, liturgy and canon law. Then they’re put in a parish where they’re expected to run a business, sometimes a multi-million dollar business. They have to be human resource managers. They have to be labor negotiators. They have to deal with contractors. They have to shovel snow and put up Christmas decorations. And, guess what? We expect them to be perfect. The buck stops there. The Archbishop holds them responsible for everything that happens in the parish. So do we. If they’re not perfect, we let them know about it.

Is it really a surprise that so many young men hear Jesus calling and convince themselves that it’s a wrong number? “He can’t be talking to me. It’s just my imagination. I could never be a priest. How can I live without a wife and family?”


So many calls go unanswered and occasionally one IS answered that doesn’t work out. From so much promise and so much potential, it all ends up with a one sentence entry in the Catholic newspaper that most people never see.

As we prepare to receive the Body of Christ, let us pray for all young people who may be hearing Jesus’ voice and for all those who have answered the call. It’s not nearly so easy as it was when He looked the twelve men in the eye and said, “Come, follow me.”