Trinity Sunday

Today instead of attempting to explain the mystery of the Trinity, a truth we cannot yet fully grasp, I want to share some relevant reflections on my mind lately.

Thirty-six years ago I was ordained. I left behind a passion I much enjoyed to bring the Eucharist and the love of God to fellow Catholics. I considered becoming a librarian or a lawyer, but I felt called to be a priest instead. Many times while in the seminary I wondered if I was doing the right thing but I was continually encouraged to hang in there.

I don’t regret being ordained. I love celebrating Mass, even on my days off, preaching God’s word as best I can and that isn’t always easy. Sometimes I feel called to be prophetic, much to the chagrin of some who are listening.

I feel blessed to be a part of many families over the years, warmly accepted and welcomed into their lives, sharing a meal especially in their homes. Thank you for inviting me.

As a priest, I have been privileged to be with families at times of great joy, like baptisms, first communions, at confirmations for our youth to hear them say “yes” to continuing their faith journey, at the Easter Vigil to welcome the newest members of our faith, and at weddings to hear couples promise to administer the sacrament of marriage to each other in good times and bad until death do they part. Unfortunately that doesn’t happen for every couple so sometimes, I find myself helping someone heal through an annulment. At moments like these, I know I stand in the presence of our triune God.

I am awed and honored to be with you at moments of great pain like a grave illness administering the sacrament of the sick, praying for God to bring healing or to be there when a loved one is dying to help others deal with loss. The death and burial of members of our parish community is painful.  I look through old parish directories and reflect on the joy that past parishioners brought to my life and yours.

The challenge of being a pastor is daunting at times. As the saying goes, you can please some of the people some of the time, but you cannot please all the people all of the time. That was true in my past careers and it remains true today.

At times I fell short of living up to the expectations some had of me, so they left the parish. Today I say to you whom I may have hurt, I am sorry because no matter how much that was not intended, it still happened. I am human and I have my shortcomings. To all of you who have sustained me in my years of ministry here and helped me to grow, I thank you.

I sometimes reminisce, looking at cards written by people whose lives I have touched and recalling the many ways I have been touched, loved, challenged and consoled by you. Again, I say thank you. Together we demonstrate the truth of our triune God, who simply put, is love.

My heart aches at the changes our parish has dealt with since the pandemic began. Some who once gathered here to worship no longer do. They are missed.  Hopefully they haven’t drifted away from the faith and will again join us in worship.

In the Gospel, Jesus tells his disciples, “I have much to tell you but you cannot bear it now.” He then tells us that the Spirit will guide us to all truth. Two thousand years later many professed Christians still cannot bear to hear the truth.

And what might that be? What is he asking of us? Jesus continually challenges us to build the kingdom of God; doing so enables God to demonstrate love for us but for that to happen, we have to earnestly examine our priorities in life. Dietrich Bonhoeffer once said, “Your ‘yes’ to God requires your ‘no’ to all injustice, to all evil, to all lies, to all oppression and violation of the weak and the poor.”

Irate parishioners have rebuked me for talking politics but preachers don’t get to stay out of politics. We are either chaplains of empire or prophets of God. Prophets irk listeners whose values and priorities distract them from building God’s kingdom here and now. Despite the risk of offending some, I speak out against evil and will continue to do so to enable us to build God’s kingdom here and now.

Why do I take this risk? Because love demands that we do so. The model of love we profess as Christians is God, three persons in one. Father, who cannot exist without his son; the son who cannot exist without his father, and the Spirit who is the bond of love that binds them together as one.

If we are to live our lives with any sense of purpose and meaning, we have to be willing to pay whatever price we must to uphold what we believe in, for the truth we hold dear. To sacrifice our values out of fear for our career, our reputation, or our safety is to render our lives shallow and meaningless. Christ calls his disciples, including us, to embrace the Gospel with not a mumbled “yes,” but whole-heartedly.  

Admittedly, the truth Jesus speaks of can make us uncomfortable and squirm given the culture we live in. The truth passed on to us by the Spirit can demand a response from us that is costly, as any saint will tell you, but then Jesus never said that being one of his disciples would be an easy undertaking.