Brief Notes Dot Com

"Come and See"

2012-01-17T14:25:00.000-08:00

I had been thinking about this homily for a week and a half. Of course I hadn't put anything down on paper -- I seldom can, ahead of time. But when I did, I was able to spend more time than usual with the individual words I would use, and how to say them -- inflection, pausing, etc.

The two paragraphs at the end are in brackets because they refer to two parish activities that I wanted to highlight at the end. The homily probably works OK without them.

Second Sunday of Ordinary Time (B)

Today I’d like to focus on two different spiritual movements, movements that go together as naturally as breathing in and breathing out. The first movement is very well characterized by today’s First Reading and the Gospel. The former passage tells us that young Samuel was being called – “Samuel, Samuel.” But Samuel “was not familiar with the Lord,” so he kept running to the old priest, Eli, “Here I am; you called me.” Finally, Eli figures it out and with the old priest’s instructions Samuel listens attentively to God’s voice… and after that, things are never the same in his life. In fact, they are never the same in the land of Israel.

The Gospel story takes place shortly after John’s baptism of Jesus, and when John points him out as the Holy One, “the Lamb of God,” Andrew and another of John’s disciples follow Jesus, and after a brief exchange about where Jesus lives, Jesus invites them to “Come and See.” And clearly, these words are more than invitation to physically see where Jesus lives; they are rather an invitation to know who Jesus is. And after that, just as in the first reading, things for Andrew are never the same again; nor for the apostles, nor for human history.

Come and See. Rabbi, where are you staying? Come and See. Do we want to understand who Jesus is? Come and See. Would we want to learn how to be more loving?…to forgive and heal others like Jesus did?… Would we like to be less worried or afraid…more grateful and trusting… Come and See. Know Jesus, study the scriptures, pray over them, worship and gather to share the Eucharist. Come and See.

DO BELIEVE that our God calls to us. I believe God’s calls to us all the time. There are times in our lives when we act like Samuel did at first, as if we were unfamiliar with the Lord. We may have a restlessness in our heart; it might keep us awake at night. We may have a yearning that we just don’t understand. We might feel that we’re…not in the right place. Those might be signs that God is speaking to us.

It’s difficult sometime because God’s Word to us is different from ordinary words. We often take the Voice of God to be something else, something that might be a little more familiar to us. Or we respond to what we hear by turning to the people we already know or the places we’re already accustomed to, or maybe we turn to something shiny, like a new toy or a new opportunity, and we say “Here I am, you called me.” But it was God who was really calling us – we just didn’t recognize the voice.

But instead, if we have become a bit familiar with the ways of God, or if we have a wise person in our life to whom we can turn for advice, we might instead say, “Speak Lord, your servant is listening.” And God WILL speak to us. God is not silent; God never abandons us, even if we feel lost and in the shadow of death. Our God is a God of Love and Consolation. And yet truly, what God has to say to us can cause the ears of everyone who hears it, to RING, so that things will never be the same.

I spoke when I began, of two movements. The first is to hear God’s voice, to come to know to heart of Jesus. But there is another movement. Once we have heard and have come to know… it takes us somewhere. God’s Word to us is a Holy, creative word, and that Word changes us – joyfully, gloriously, and sometimes even frighteningly or dangerously!

How can that be? What might those changes be? We might already have some inkling of that if we are speaking of our individual lives. If we ask God where to walk, God WILL show us the paths that we can walk together. If we offer our lives to God, God WILL help us determine our professions, opening some doors, closing others. If we open our hearts for God to show us love, God CAN help us find our spouse, and WILL help us raise a family. And if we’re sick or dying and we reach out for God, God WILL even carry us along our paths. Our God loves us all, individually and powerfully so.

But our God is also much larger than that, larger than any of us as individuals. Our God is not a personal, private God. God loves the whole human family. That’s why God sent Jesus to teach us and to show us how to live, and to announce the Reign of God. This Monday… is a special testament to that, because it is the special time of the year that we remember Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Dr. King, we sometimes forget, was a Baptist Minister, and the title “Doctor” refers to his advanced degrees in theology.

To me his most moving speech was not the famous one that he gave to hundreds of thousands in our nation’s Capitol. To me it was a sermon that he gave about the night he almost gave up. After a long day and night in one of many troubled situations he had faced during the civil rights struggle, with death threats to him and others, and late that night, in his own home, he received one final hateful call that was, in his words, “a nasty voice” -- someone who threatened his little daughter’s life, his wife’s life and his own. It was not the first time; but that night, as he sat alone at his kitchen table, his head in his hands, he felt there was nothing anyone could do to help him. The police? They were on the other side. The federal government was too far away. His father lived in another city. He felt lost, alone, and in trouble, felt like he couldn’t go on. But then, that night, he heard the voice of God, telling him…”Stand up, Martin. Stand up for Justice. Stand up for Righteousness.” And he ended that sermon by proclaiming “There IS a Balm in Gilead to make the wounded whole; there IS a balm in Gilead, to heal the sin-sick soul.” He went on from that night, and eventually died in the service of His God.

We don’t choose most of our life’s troubles; most of us naturally try to avoid them. But being part of the reign of God means announcing that reign to the world, and promoting ways of life that confound and sometimes confront earthly powers. Those powers are strong, persistent, interlocking, and hold much of the world in their grip. And in today’s world we see many people and places that cry out for God’s justice. And so you know, you know that God’s voice must also be very active these days; and as a people, as a Church, we should find ourselves saying “Speak Lord, your servants are listening.”

[There are many ways we might respond to that voice, and I would just like to call your attention to two of them this morning. On Tuesday morning, the annual March for Life will take place, down in Olympia. This is an annual event, held near the anniversary of Roe VS Wade. There are already several of us going. If you would like to go, and need directions or perhaps a ride, please contact one of us.

The 2nd is that next Monday, January 23rd, we will begin a parish program called “Living Solidarity – the Federal Government, the Budget, and the Common Good.” This program is particularly timely, because budget cuts everywhere are impacting the poor most of all. We already have 18-20 people who have already signed up, and if you are interested, this is a final opportunity, because we need to order books. There is a signup table in the main entryway.]

May you enjoy your holiday on Monday. But be sure to spend part of this time in prayer. Just say to God, Speak Lord…your servant is listening.

Deacon Denny Duffell, 1/15/12

World Peace Day homily

2012-01-04T18:27:00.000-08:00

I usually try to post my homilies, and try to write a blog or two between them. I also post my homilies on the parish website, but here on the blog I try to comment on the homily -- which gives it at least a little more context.

For January 1st, I knew already that it was not just the feast day of Mary, Mother of God, but also World Peace Day, and that for 45 years now, the pope has issued a special message about peace for the occasion. Peace is a topic I care a lot about, and so I really wanted an opportunity to speak about it on New Years Day. However, the scriptures for that day's liturgy don't highlight peace, but rather highlight Mary -- and I really believe, whenever possible, that I should speak from the scriptures.

I couldn't figure out how to do it. Finally, Saturday afternoon came, and I was beginning to resign myself to the fact that I couldn't make a connection that I felt comfortable with. It finally hit me, however, when I looked more carefully at the first reading, which describes that beautiful Old Testament blessing. After that....

By the way, Benedict's text is four pages long, and so of course I just chose excerpts from his message. Also, I amended it slightly, to conform the message to an oral format, rather than a written one. In other words (as you can tell from comparing my words to his actual words), I added words that made it more personal. I'm confident that I didn't change the meaning, but if you think so, let me know. Here's the homily:

Feast of Mary, Mother of God, 2012

Good morning. The full title of today’s feast is: “The Octave Day of the Nativity of the Lord: Mary, the Holy Mother of God.” The octave day, the eighth day after birth, held great importance for Jewish people. And on that day children received their name and, in the case of a male child, the rite of circumcision. In fact, when I was a child, this holyday was even called the Feast of the Circumcision. There’s also a tradition that goes back to the fifteen century that calls this day the Feast of the Holy Name of Jesus.

It’s apparent from its different titles that this feast contains many evocative themes, but there’s also one that we’re not so familiar with, and that’s PEACE. It’s not just that at this time of the year, we celebrate the birth of the Prince of Peace. And it’s not just that we honor in our feast today the one who is Mary, Queen of Peace. Ever since 1968, our international Church has also celebrated January 1st as World Day of Peace, and successive popes have issued a special message of peace to the whole world. (I’m just curious how many of you knew that…We don’t take much notice of that in the U.S., for some reason.) For 45 years now, each of these individual peace letters has also had a special theme for the times. Five years ago the theme was The Human Person, the Heart of Peace. Three years ago it was Fighting Poverty to Build Peace; then If You Want to Cultivate Peace, Protect Creation. The reason I decided to bring this up to you today is because of this year’s theme, which I think we should especially be able to relate to here at St. Bridget. The theme of this year’s World Day of Peace is Educating Young People in Justice and Peace.

Young people! Ever since the mid-1980’s -- for about the last 25 years -- one of the major focal points for St. Bridget has been our young people. It’s not just that we support and educate them in our Catholic Schools – Assumption-St. Bridget, the Villa Academy, our Catholic high schools -- but we offer programs, activities, and other opportunities for our young people to be active in our parish life. The reason I mention 25 years, is because we are the only parish in the Seattle area – probably the only parish in the archdiocese -- to have continually had a paid youth minister on our parish staff for these past 25 years. That priority is an indication of how important our young people have been to us.

It is not an easy ministry, not the least because as our young people grow up, you have to be continually reinventing the program. We started with ministers from the Channel Program – young people themselves, just fresh from college, who gave a year of their lives, or two or three, working for a beginner’s salary and helping us here with our youth. But then, even after the Channel Program ended, we have continued to fund this ministry, and we’ve been very blessed to have had Joe Rinaldi here as our youth minister for the last 7 or 8 years. But above all, our youth ministry here has taken its biggest jump in these last three years, when in addition to having a youth minister on staff, we finally got a pastor who has really invested himself in personally reaching out to our youth.

So today, in line with the theme of Educating Young People in Justice and Peace, I would like to share a few lines from Pope Benedict’s message. He writes to our youth, and to all of us.
He begins writing to everyone, and then writes to the young:

Peace…is not merely a gift to be received; it is … a task to be undertaken. In order to be true peacemakers, we must educate ourselves in compassion, solidarity, … in being active within the community and concerned to raise awareness about national and international issues. Peace is not only about conflict resolution, but about cooperation for development, promotion of growth, and the seeking adequate mechanisms for the redistribution of wealth. As Jesus says in the Sermon on the Mount, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God.”

To the young -- you who have such a strong attachment to ideals, I extend a particular invitation to be patient and persevering in seeking justice and peace, in cultivating the taste for what is just and true, even when it involves sacrifice and swimming against the tide….

My dear young people [and here is speaking to young adults, too], you are a precious gift for society. Do not yield to discouragement in the face of difficulties…Do not be afraid to make a commitment, to face hard work and sacrifice…Be confident in your youth and its profound desires for happiness, truth, beauty, and genuine love! Live fully this time in your life so rich and so full of enthusiasm.

Please realize that you yourselves are an example and an inspiration to your elders, even more so to the extent that you seek to overcome injustice…and strive to build a better future. Be aware of your potential; never become self-centered but work for a brighter future for all. You are never alone. The Church has confidence in you, follows you, encourages you, and wishes to offer you the most precious gift she has: the opportunity to raise your eyes to God, to encounter Jesus Christ, who is himself justice and peace.

And to all you men and women throughout the world -- take to heart the cause of peace. Peace is not a blessing already attained, but rather a goal to which each and all of us must aspire. Let us look with greater hope to the future; let us encourage one another on our journey; let us work together to give our world a more humane … face; let us feel a common responsibility towards present and future generations, especially in the task of training them to be people of peace and builders of peace.

“With these thoughts I offer my reflections and I appeal to everyone: let us pool our spiritual, moral, and material resources for the great goal of ‘educating young people in justice and peace.’” -- Pope Benedict XVI

I think it’s only fitting to conclude this morning with words from our First Reading -- for all of us, but especially for our young people:

“May the Lord bless you and keep you!
……….May the Lord let his face shine upon you, and be gracious to you!
…………..……May the Lord look upon you kindly, and give you PEACE!”

Denny Duffell, January 1, 2012

A CW Interview

2011-12-31T15:38:00.001-08:00

Besides reading the National Catholic Reporter regularly, I also "subscribe" to several feeds. Just this past week, the NCR started a new column called "Conversations with Sr. Camille." The opening article was an interview of Julia Occhiogrosso, 50 years old and long-time member of the Catholic Worker. It was an inspiration to read; and if this article is an indication of things to come, it'll be an ongoing hit.

A few years after we were married, Joan and I lived in the Seattle Catholic Worker community for five years, years which were often very hectic and stressful. However, those years also contain some of my fondest memories. Julia's life in the Worker reminded me of my own; I often think I would like to reunite with those roots. Perhaps someday...

As Julia recounts, it was her parents' values, and then her sister's early influence that drew her to the Los Angeles Catholic Worker, and things took off from there. Some excerpts...

Did some particular experience strengthen your resolve? "I remember tagging along with Mary Smith, a nurse in the community. We went door to door in the run-down Skid Row hotels. Mary spoke Spanish, informing the families about a summer project for children. We walked tenuously through darkened hallways, avoiding broken glass. The air reeked of urine. Peeking out from behind their moms were little children with dazed eyes. They seemed to wonder, 'What can you do for me?' My heart knew in those moments that I was being invited to be with the poor."

After four years with the LACW, Julia was "commissioned" to open a sister house in Las Vegas.
"For the first five years, different people came for six months to a few years. The lack of a consistent, long-term community was taking a toll on me. Just as I thought I needed a break, Gary Cavalier, whom I'd known at the LACW, joined me. We shared similar values. Gary brought insight, energy and creativity to the LVCW. His background in printing and publishing helped improve our newsletter, Manna. We were married in 1994."

How did that change your life? "Because I wanted a family, we adopted two boys. We moved out of the hospitality house with Gary commuting to run the projects. When the boys started school, I was able to spend more time at the Worker. We soon were running a grassroots interfaith program for homeless families, along with the Catholic Worker house."

Julia, you've taken on some large challenges. Has any particular Scripture passage sustained you?
"Different passages speak to me differently in different moments. The parable of loaves and fishes and Matthew 25, 'Whatsoever you do to the least of these you do unto me,' have special meaning for me. The paradoxes and metaphors found in Scripture show up often in my thoughts and they influence my writing."

What is your image of God? "I envision God incarnated in the dynamic of human relationships. I embrace my image of God when I'm able to revere both the wounds and sacredness in myself and others. In human relationships, we're given the privilege to engage in the give-and-take of a love that endures suffering, sacrifice and commitment, as well as a love that comforts, rejoices and hopes."

What about your faith is most meaningful to you? "Faithfulness to Jesus' message of radical love and forgiveness provides infinite possibilities toward personal and social transformation."

There's a lot more. I might drop Julia a note... And I think I'll follow this column.

Benedict's World Day of Peace letter

2011-12-23T15:03:00.000-08:00

As I've noted before, I often get behind in my reading. It doesn't mean I'm not reading; actually, I read all the time. However, it's not always professional reading, or spiritual reading, or educational reading; I might be reading about current events, or I might be engaged in reading/writing, i.e., correspondence.

But...I've digressed. To come right to the point, I haven't been following the Pope lately. Now, I don't know whether the most common reaction to that admission would be disdain, puzzled confusion, or laughter; but in all honesty, I enjoy following the Pope, especially Benedict. Among the assortment of Catholic periodicals I receive, I regularly make time to read the NCR, US Catholic, America, and Commonweal, as well as our own Archdiocesan Progress, all of whom follow the Pope in varying frequencies and from varied perspectives. I'm open to still other perspectives too, as I come across them. I try to understand him.

Now, there are a LOT of Catholics, as well as their non-Catholic friends, who say privately that the pope embodies their worst notions of Church; that he is conservative, patriarchal, and that he seeks to return the Church to the "latin era." To these, he's "Pope Ratzinger," not Benedict. I think the sentiment is so very persistent because he was indeed so strong a personality under John Paul II.

However, I've tried to see Pope Benedict on his own record, apart from his previous role. He certainly seems to have made some remarkable gaffes, and I still have my questions about his (non-)actions in regard to priestly sexual abuse during his term as Archbishop of Munich, that he as Pope could have answered, but chose not to. However, his writing is surperb, and his subject-choice for his encyclicals is excellent. And in addition to these, he speaks to the culture of our times as directly as his predecessor did.

I just finished reading his 2012 message for the World Day of Peace. What he chose for his theme was "Educating Young People in Justice and Peace." What a surprising, uplifting point of view! I'm scheduled to give the homily next weekend (New Years Day), and will do my best to incorporate that perspective. Early in the letter he offers this delightful note:

"Education is the most interesting and difficult adventure in life" What a great way to start a subject! He continues, ... "Today more than ever we need authentic witnesses, and not simply people who parcel out rules and facts; we need witnesses capable of seeing farther than others because their life is much broader. A witness is someone who first lives the life that he proposes to others." A great challenge to teachers AND pastors.

He goes on, to talk about education: "It is the task of education to form people in authentic freedom. This is not the absence of constraint or the supremacy of free will, it is not the absolutism of the self. When man believes himself to be absolute, to depend on nothing and no one, to be able to do anything he wants, he ends up contradicting the truth of his own being and forfeiting his freedom."

And of course, he addresses young people directly: "To the young, who have such a strong attachment to ideals, I extend a particular invitation to be patient and persevering in seeking justice and peace, in cultivating the taste for what is just and true, even when it involves sacrifice and swimming against the tide." ...

I also caught up on Benedict's trip to Africa, as I have a strong personal interest there; however, that will wait for another post!

Saying YES

2011-12-19T11:34:00.000-08:00

I have always had a special place in my heart for Mary. When I learned that we celebrate her birthday on September 8th, that was a special treat for me, since that's my birthday also. I usually wind up with the happy task of giving the homily on the 4th Sunday of Advent, because the pastor almost always has the homily on Christmas. Well, that 4th Sunday of Advent is always about Mary... hence, the following. Enjoy.

4th Sunday of Advent (B), 2011

By the time we get to the fourth Sunday of Advent, one week before Christmas, there’s something of a convergence between our cultural celebration of Christmas and our religious celebration. We’ve been waiting and preparing now for a few weeks, and we’re almost ready. Oh, for our cultural celebration, we may have cards still to get out, or some shopping to do. And for our religious celebration, we may not yet have found the quiet peace of heart that we know we need, in order to really be focused. We still have one more week, to get to the post office or store. We still have one more week to come for Sacramental Reconciliation on Tuesday or our Advent Reflection series this Wednesday, or simply to set aside time to better prepare our hearts. But probably all of us are at least ready for this preparation and waiting time to be over.

And as always, our fourth Sunday of Advent introduces us to the final Advent figure, a young virgin named of Mary of Nazareth. Today the time of waiting is replaced with a time of wonder; the call to repentance we heard in the words of John last week is replaced with a promise of fulfillment in the words of the angel Gabriel. Today our coming Christmas begins to become real – today we can take real delight and find tender joy at Mary’s simple, faithful response to God’s call.

In today’s reading we see at last the nature of God’s strategy with our human race. God’s answer to our broken world … is to come among us; to walk with us, to become one of us, to bridge the gap between heaven and earth by becoming totally, completely human. God comes to us not in God’s own grandeur, but in our own form, our own human frailty, becoming a human child of humble birth, an utterly dependent newborn baby, just as all of us once were.

And today we see how it first begins. God places everything in the hands of a simple young Jewish woman, hardly more than a girl, really. One named Mary, from a small village called Nazareth, in the hill country of Galilee.

Most probably Mary already had plans for her future. She was engaged to Joseph, and must have believed that they would marry, raise a family, and do their best to follow the Mosaic Law, as had their ancestors in faith for many generations. But then, literally in one moment, Mary’s whole life changed. Without a warning, Mary was asked to make a life-changing decision. And though she could hardly have understood all that the angel’s invitation and her acceptance would mean – and some of those things were frightening, and terrible -- Mary had the faith and trust to respond without hesitation, “I am the servant of the Lord; let it happen as you say.” Mary did not question her worthiness; she didn’t challenge the invitation of the angel. She didn’t ask to know the details or examine all the fine print. Her faith was so simple and so direct that she just went forward from there, regardless of any uncertainties that she might have felt. It was just right for her to trust God, to be open to God, to believe that whatever was going to happen after that would just work out.

I keep using that word “simple” about Mary’s faith, but I should really use the word profound. And not only is it profound, it’s also so very wonderful! Because Mary was open to God, it meant that everything human became open to God through Mary; for through her son Jesus, there is no forgotten place that God does not enter, to bring love and light, healing and forgiveness. Jesus heals the sick, lifts up the poor, forgives those broken in life, brings the outcast back into the community. And Jesus shows us how to live a life totally open to God, and shows us how to love with God’s love, so that his healing, uplifting, forgiving presence can continue through us today.

And God let all this begin with Mary’s simply profound Yes. And because of that yes, there is also so much joy. You see it immediately in the scriptures, as Mary leaves Nazareth at once to visit Elizabeth, and when they each share their news, Mary bursts forth in song “My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my savior” and the two of them dance together for joy. Well, in doesn’t say in the scriptures that they danced … but they must have.

You know, the real kicker in this gospel is that God’s strategy is pretty much the same with the human race today. God still calls to the world. God calls to each one of us. We all know this; we have all heard the sound of God’s voice, and it’s not usually an overpowering, commanding voice, but a small whisper that leaves it up to us. Sometimes we get too busy to listen -- I know, I get that way too. Sometimes we’re afraid of what it might mean; sometimes we just don’t feel worthy of what it might mean; sometimes we feel we need to know all the details before we can let go and answer the call. I know, because I have felt all those things too.

But God’s still there, calling; God still depends on a Yes from us. Is God pointing you to service to the poor, or a ministry in the Church, or to make a generous financial contribution to the work of the Kingdom? Is God calling you to stand up against injustice on an issue that will be costly for you? There are countless daily yeses that God looks for, and there are life-changing yeses too. They are unique to who we are, and they can come at any moment. The fact is that our all-powerful God won’t overpower us; God waits for our “Yes.” And in this way, God depends on us – and on our care, our nurturing, our teaching – our love for one another, our love for those who are most vulnerable and weak. God depended on Mary to give birth to Jesus – and Jesus depends on us now to become his hands and heart.

Be aware -- your “yes” will cost you. You might have to trade in some or all of your smaller plans for the great plan God dreams for you. But I can tell you, and so could Mary, that trade is a good deal indeed. And it will bring you MUCH JOY.

Deacon Denny Duffell
December 18, 2011

Shorter Than Usual

2011-12-09T13:50:00.001-08:00

I was asked to cut this week's homily short, because we were celebrating Confirmation at the last Sunday Mass, and so our pastor wanted the earlier Mass to be shorter. Add to that the fact that there was a need at the end to highlight our Advent programs. So, here's what we have. My wife Joan was right: nobody ever complains about a short homily.

Second Sunday of Advent (B), 2011

One of the things that happens to you when you’ve been part of a faith community for a good length of time is that certain things that the community does become familiar traditions. One of our traditional Advent decorations is that banner back there. How many of you remember Phyllis Kirkman? Phyllis died several years ago, but she was one of the founding members of St. Bridget, with many talents that she freely offered to our community. One of those talents was that she was a gifted religious artist, and that banner at the back is one of her creations. The figure on the top is the prophet Isaiah, whom we heard from in our first reading today, and that little thing you see by his mouth is a burning coal that one of the seraphim angels brought from the altar of the Holy of Holies, to be placed on his mouth, to prepare him to announce the word of God. And as we know, Isaiah did have many fiery words of doom and condemnation for Israel. Underneath Isaiah is the austere figure of John the Baptist, dressed in his camel’s hair garment. Certainly we all remember that John’s words could act like a whip: “You brood of vipers!”

Both Isaiah and John could be full of fire, and if you are like I am, that may be the Advent message that you’ve generally taken from these two prophets. I know that’s what I often focus on; after all, our gospel even says that John proclaimed a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And in fact, if you add in our second reading from the letters of St. Peter, which talks about the day of the Lord coming like a thief, after which the heavens will pass away with a roar and everything will be dissolved in fire, it’s easy to get a frightful eschatological message, a grim reminder of the end time. That sober message IS there in the scripture.

However… Alongside those words are other words, and I think they’re much more important words.

I spent time with a young mom this week. She has a teenage daughter who has been through an accident, and her mother is with her day and night, doing two things. The first thing is to care for her daughter. There is a schedule posted on the wall, and every two hours, day and night, she gets up and cares for her daughter. She rotates braces on her daughter’s arms and legs, feeds her daughter her meals, changes her position on the bed from one side to another, or up into a hoist and down into a wheelchair. She sometimes changes her, and she talks to her, though her daughter is unable to answer. The other thing she does, is pray. She prays all the time. She prays for a miracle. I prayed with her, and I’ll pray for her again today. I really wish I had the power to grant miracles. And the words of our scriptures today are for them.

That mother and daughter are suffering, but they’re not alone. In a few minutes, after our creed but before we take up our offering, we’ll offer prayers as a community. During those intentions we’ll remember others who are in need, many of them we’ve been holding in prayer for a long time – pay special attention to those intentions today. For the words of our scriptures today are especially for those people we pray for.

My friends, the most compelling message in our scriptures today is not what we would expect from two fiery prophets. The most important message is the very first word of the first reading: “Comfort.” That’s not a noun, that’s a verb; that’s an order God is giving to his prophet! “Comfort ye my people, says your God!” And God says, “Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, tell everyone that their time of exile, their time of suffering is over. Go up on the high mountain; be a herald of glad tidings. Cry out at the top of your voice, be a herald of good news. Fear not to cry out, ‘Here is our God!’ Because I the Lord God WILL gather my people in my arms, like a shepherd, with tenderness, with care; I will carry you in my bosom, right next to my heart.”

Have any of you here today ever felt that you needed that comfort from your God?

This is such sweet good news! Why would we ever hesitate to prepare the way of the Lord?! In our personal desert places, in our wastelands … however high or low, or rugged and rough, no matter how difficult we’ve made the pathway to our true heart, let’s turn that pathway into a highway for our God.

Some of us may have some work to do in opening our heart to God. I invite everyone here to take some time for that work – we have three good weeks left in Advent. In fact, on the coming three Wednesday evenings we have set aside a special prayer & reflection time; so please join us this Wednesday. And then a few days before Christmas, we will also offer, as we usually do, an evening for sacramental Reconciliation. Those aren’t the only things that we’ve put together to assist in preparing our hearts for Christmas – please take a copy of this flier at the table in the back, or check our parish web site.

Because…. because we know, don’t we – preparing our heart for God’s coming is THE most important preparation for Christmas.

Deacon Denny Duffell December 3/4, 2011

Don't You Miss Him

2011-11-21T10:38:00.000-08:00

I knew that giving this homily would be a little painful and a lot emotional, but I knew at least three weeks ago that I had to tell these two stories. Knowing, REALLY KNOWING that you missed your chance can awaken your heart to wider realities.

Christ the King Sunday, Cycle A 2011

These last three Sundays we have been reading a section from Matthew’s gospel that is often called the Eschatological Sermon – that means it’s about the end time. Two Sundays ago we heard the story of the 10 virgins, five of which were wise and five were foolish, and you might say that the message was that we should always be alert, always ready to act. Last Sunday we hear about three servants who were given talents, and you might say that the message was that, whoever we are, whatever we have been given, we must not be afraid to act. And today the Church places this scripture before us, on this Christ the King Sunday, this final Sunday of our liturgical year, because here Jesus gives us a last reminder of HOW and WHY we are to act. These words today from Matthew’s gospel are the very last words of Jesus before Matthew begins the account of Jesus’ passion and death. They are so well-positioned there because they sum up everything Jesus has taught his disciples during his public life.

I’d like to tell you a story. It’s about someone I want you to know. Liz Houlihan and I are baseball fans, and for the last several years we’ve gotten a special 16-game ticket package, so we go to a lot of games together. We usually park for free about a half-mile away, and always enter the park at the center-field gate, heading for the left field bleachers, which is where our seats are. And when you walk that way, you see many of the same people as you go by. There are several stands of people selling packaged food – candy, crackerjacks, peanuts and sunflower seeds – and it’s all less expensive than inside the stadium. There someone selling hotdogs, there’s another vendor selling grilled bratwurst, with sauerkraut. There are always a few people buying and selling tickets. And there are also beggars. There’s usually at least one guy playing a guitar or some other instrument. There’s always one guy with a sign that says, “Why lie? I need a beer!” And then there’s one elderly lady sitting in a wheelchair with a sign that says “Please help.”

Now, Liz and I usually bring some food with us, so we never stop at any of those food vendors. Occasionally we do have an extra ticket or two for some reason, so we’ll sell it to one of the scalpers – of course you seldom get even half price for it. And I tell you, I don’t drink beer myself, and I’ll be darned if I’ll ever buy a beer for that guy with the sign. But something happened to me, and this summer, I decided that I just couldn’t pass by that elderly lady anymore. So one game day when we came to that lady, Liz and I just stopped. We said hello, and gave her a couple of dollars, which she put in a cup she held on her lap. And the next game we went to, we saw her again, said hello, gave her a couple of dollars, and I said, “My name is Denny”; Liz introduced herself too. The lady thanked us, and said her name was Ruth. We said we went to a lot of games, so we’d probably see her again. And this went on, all through the summer.

Ruth was almost always in the same place, sitting in her wheelchair, and always had an oxygen hose that went up to her nose. She’s very thin, with gray hair and somewhat leathery-gray skin. She usually had a blanket on her lap, and when it gets colder she has an old coat wrapped around her. As the season was ending we gave her a card, with something extra, and asked her what she was going to do now that baseball season was over. Ruth said she would go to the soccer games and Seahawk games, but of course there weren’t as many of those games, and the weather would be getting colder. Ruth wasn’t very specific about where she lived or what she would do when all the games were over, or when it got too cold, and we didn’t want to press her. Finally, we said goodbye, and told her we hoped to see her when the season started again in the spring.

You know, I often think about Ruth. I think about her especially now, as the weather turns cold. I hope and pray that nothing bad happens to her. You know, I sometimes hear individuals talk about beggars as if they made a lot of money doing it, and then when they’re done they go home to a good life. But I wouldn’t want to sit in a wheelchair holding a sign, while people walk past you, constantly ignoring you, most of them trying not to even make eye contact. And so if you go to Seahawk games, I want you to look for an elderly lady in a wheelchair; there can’t be too many of them. If you see her, introduce yourself, give her a few dollars, and ask her for her name. You could tell her Liz and Denny are thinking of her.

I want to acknowledge that parishioners here at St. Bridget parish support the poor in a lot of ways. In a few minutes we’ll collect food for our food bank – a lot of that food goes to the families living in subsidized housing over at Sand Point, and the folks in our St. Vincent de Paul visit there almost every week and help them out. Just a few weeks ago, a lot of you went down to the Urban SoupLine, a fundraiser for the Sacred Heart Shelter, which provides temporary housing for women and families, and some of you also bring food down there and cook them a good dinner. Some of you help cook for the Orion Center – did you know they’re now feeding around 70 young people at a time, mostly teenagers, living on the street! And there are parishioners who make sandwiches every Wednesday morning for the Francis House, and still others active in the 2nd Sunday meal program at St. George Episcopal Church, organized by the Mennonites -- it's a real ecumenical effort. This is all true. But there are a LOT of poor out there nowadays, more than one person or one parish can serve. In a couple of Sundays we’ll have the collection for Catholic Community Services – this is one of the best ways you can reach them. As our state and federal governments face continuing cuts in service for the poor, CCS offers many excellent organized ways for us to do what we can, to meet a growing need. We should all be generous -- VERY generous. We have homes, we have a hot meal to look forward to this evening, a bed to sleep in.

Today’s gospel tells us that whatever we do for the least of our brothers and sisters, we do for Jesus. Do we want to know how to find Jesus? Serve the poor. Tend to their needs. Do we want Jesus in our life? Get to know the poor by name. Love them as we would love Him.

I would like to tell you another story. When I told you about Ruth a few minutes ago, I began by saying something happened to me, that I couldn’t walk by her anymore. This is what happened.

It was last winter. It was a cold Thursday night, I think about 10:30 – there was still snow on the ground, ice in places. I know it was Thursday because I regularly bowl on Thursday nights, at a little place up in Richmond Beach, and that night I came back home via Lake City Way. And I was hungry so I stopped at Dick’s. [Dick's is a well-know hamburger stop.] I was the only customer there – it was a bleak night. And as I placed my order, I saw this guy, standing maybe 50 feet away, by the entrance from the street. I could see he wasn’t dressed very warmly. So I ordered something extra, and when I drove out, I stopped by him & got out of the car. I said he looked really cold, and asked him if he wanted something to eat. He said thanks, and took the food, and we chatted for a bit. He was young, maybe in his mid-20’s. He said he just got out of the hospital, and I could see a bandage on his shoulder and neck. He said he had gotten hurt when he arrived in Seattle, and now that he was out of the hospital he didn’t have a place to go to. And when he said that, I have to confess that I didn’t know what to say. Finally, I told him I needed to go, and I gave him a few dollars, which he thanked me for, and I left.

When I got just a few blocks away, I had a feeling that I should go back. But ... I didn’t. I couldn’t make myself turn the car around. Instead, I went home, to my warm house. And I went to bed ... but not to sleep. And it finally came to me what was wrong. That young man was Jesus. He was hurt, alone, and cold on a miserable night. My head kept trying to tell myself that I was just being foolish about this, but my heart knew the truth, and wasn’t buying it.

Don’t YOU miss Jesus.

Deacon Denny Duffell, November 20, 2011

Veterans Day

2011-11-11T20:24:00.000-08:00

I don't like holidays that aggrandize war, warmaking, or warriors, or which inflate the so-called noble things that people do ignoble things to other people for. I liked the honesty of the movie Patton, because right up front, right at the beginning of the movie, you see the General himself, standing in front of a giant American flag and telling his (unseen) troops that "nobody ever won a war by dying for his country -- you make the other XXXX die for HIS country." Right up front, the movie is honest about war.

Memorial Day is the day we remember those men and women who died while serving in the Armed Forces. So...if that's what Memorial Day is, then what is Veterans Day? Wikipedia says it's a "holiday honoring military veterans." I think that truly is the commonly understood meaning of the holiday.

Indeed, last Saturday morning, Joan and I were in a hotel in Milwaukee, attending a weekend conference. Starting early in the morning, in the street below our window, an early Veterans Day parade was assembling. And it was clear, from the floats to marchers to decorated cars and uniformed men and women, that the parade was assembled to honor our veterans.

HOWEVER... it's important to recall that Veterans Day commemorates the end of World War I, which ended with the signing of the Armistice on "the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month" in 1918. Hence, it was originally known as Armistice Day, the day that ended the "war to end all war."

David Swanson posted a short but excellent article on Veterans Day a few days ago, entitled Farhenheit 11/11/11, in which he reminds us that: "November 11th was not made a holiday in order to celebrate war, support troops, or cheer the 11th year of occupying Afghanistan. This day was made a holiday in order to celebrate an armistice that ended what was up until that point, in 1918, one of the worst things our species had thus far done to itself, namely World War I."

He quotes Sherwood Eddy, an early and enthusiastic supporter of U.S. entry into World War I, who had abhorred pacifism, but who later came to write The Abolition of War (1924), and support the international campaign to outlaw all war. At the war front, as the battles raged, Eddy writes, 'We told the soldiers that if they would win we would give them a new world.'

Swanson goes on: "As President Wilson had talked up peace as the official reason for going to war, countless souls had taken him extremely seriously." Thus, "The decade following the war was a decade of searching for peace. Peace echoed through so many sermons, speeches, and state papers that it drove itself into the consciousness of everyone. Never in world history was peace so great a desideratum, so much talked about, looked toward, and planned for, as in the decade after the 1918 Armistice."

I wasn't alive then, but I find that picture very believable, and it gives me a lot of hope. However not long after that, the Great Depression descended upon the country, and we worried about other things.

Still, it's good to remember that this holiday is about the END of war and warrior-ing. Let's celebrate THAT cause.

A Long Spell

2011-11-01T00:30:00.000-07:00

This post isn't going to be about anything I read or heard or wrote. The thing is, I'm tired. I do regret haven't had much time to post, or much chance to access to my home computer.

It hasn't been drudgingly tiring; I've enjoyed this latest period of my life. Take these last two weeks, for example; it's been an invigorating time! I've been part of a lot of intense, varied activities, yet still have found times for reflection and creativity.

It may have started with the weekend of the homily on taxes (which for the times may have been as challenging to the ethos of my parish as any I've given), and it continued with the JustFaith retreat last weekend.

There have been some sensitive pastoral times as well during that span, both with parishioners and at the hospital.

Adding to it was the craziness at home too, because by some unfortunate and untimely coincidences, both my daughters and their families have been living with us in the Duffell household (which explains the loss of access to the computer). We are six large adult bodies, a teenager, an active 5-year-old, a baby, and two cats, one of whom is occasionally (and sadly) incontinent. That sounds a little like a TV sitcom, or maybe it's just like one of the things that just happens in life, as in "Stuff happens."

This past weekend was a welcome getaway for a convocation of the archdiocesan deacons, but even during that time I was "on tap" for a meeting of the board and "on the agenda" for helping lead the final presentation to my brother deacons.

And tomorrow won't be much of a day off, either, with appointments at 7:30 a.m. and 10:30 a.m., and several calls to make on parish business. I hope somewhere to fit in an hour for bowling (!), but know I have to take time to purchase some new glasses.

But...HERE'S THE THING. Though tired, I feel really alive. It's not an adrenaline thing, like a rush because there's so much activity. Thing is, I've had time for introspection and prayer...some singing...a couple of quiet walks...times to touch base with a couple of good friends. Most of all, I feel that in some measure I'm in tune with where I'm supposed to be ... even though it's not clear yet WHAT it's supposed to be. (Aack! With that last comment I noticed I sounded like I was in my twenties again!)

And looking ahead...next weekend I'm going away with Joan, to the Call to Action Conference in Milwaukee. I'm very curious about it. I anticipate a lot of energy, with some things I won't agree with, some things that will be very challenging, and some things that will be resonate strongly with me and be good for my soul. I hope to bring my laptop with me and write a few words about it.

Putting Taxes to God's Uses

2011-10-16T10:15:00.000-07:00

I really love the gospel story that tells of the attempt to get Jesus to commit himself about the taxes that the Jews were obliged to pay to the Romans. But as a matter of fact, our Catholic teachings regards many things as basic rights -- food, shelter, education, health care, a decent job -- that are not available to everyone, because not everyone can afford to pay for them. That's why our Church lobbies for government to provide those basic rights. And THAT is a good and proper use for our taxes.

But today's public discourse about government and taxes is terribly skewed -- and to affirm the value of taxes can make you a lonely target.

29th Sunday in Ordinary Time
October 15, 2011

Today’s gospel reading is one that’s very often quoted. It raises all kinds of juicy issues that are great food for thought. Jesus is once again sparring with the Jewish leadership -- this is the fourth week in a row now that our gospel stories have featured some aspect of this – and today the Pharisees and Herodians try to trip Jesus up on the subject of taxes – whether paying taxes is lawful according to Jewish religious law. Of course it was lawful by Roman law – they made the law. This was a question of religious law.

Now you just heard the story – Jesus asks them to produce a tax coin, and asks them about whose image and inscription are on it, and right there, they are caught, because remember, the Romans considered their emperor to be a god, and so this particular tax coin would be considered by the Jews to be a graven image of a false god. So when Jesus says “Then give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar,” he’s not just turning the question back on them, he’s also telling them to rid themselves of this idolatrous money. Don’t keep Caesar’s image or his money, don’t use it for your own profit in any way, give it back to Caesar. Just that answer was strong enough to silence them, but then Jesus adds, “And give to God what belongs to God.”

I love that story. I can imagine the Pharisees just fuming, I can almost smell the smoke curling out of their ears -- can’t you? But let’s not leave the story there, with us all feeling good about how Jesus slipped out of their grasp again. Let’s look at the question that Jesus is implying right at the end when he says to give to God what belongs to God. What does belong to God? And since the gospel today starts with the question of taxation, let’s step out on a limb and consider that question too. What about the role of taxes? You see, we’re not Israel living under the domination of a foreign power, when taxes were universally hated because the Jewish people were being made to pay for their own oppression. For us, today, we’re a free people; we’re a democracy. So for us, ideally, taxation is created by the authority of our common community, for the use of this community. As a faith community, what do we believe about how our taxes should be used? What does our God expect from us?

For the last 7 or 8 years now, we’ve had over on the wall between the church and the hall a listing of the Seven Foundations of Catholic Social Teaching. These foundation statements are distilled from our sacred scripture and drawn from our church teachings in major documents and papal encyclicals. Today I’d like to recall Foundation number three, which is about Rights and Responsibilities: “All people have a fundamental right to life, faith, family -- so far, it doesn’t seem too controversial…but it goes on – All people have a fundamental right to food, shelter, health care, education, employment, and a right to participate in decisions that affect their lives. It doesn’t stop there. With these rights each person also has a responsibility to respect and secure these rights for all people. Government too has a responsibility to promote dignity, to protect these rights, and to provide for the common good.”

That says it all very succinctly, I think: the basic rights that all people have; the responsibility that each of us has, as a follower of Jesus, to help secure these rights for others; and the responsibility that government has to protect these rights and provide for the common good.

Now, I propose to you that this is what our taxes should be for. We have a marvelous economic system, and it has served most of us here today very well. But left to itself, it doesn’t provide for the weak, the frail, and the poor because there’s no profit to be made in providing food, shelter, health care, or education to those who just don’t have the money to make those things profitable. And so we, as individuals of faith, have a personal responsibility to go beyond our economic system and help secure those rights for others. Not only that, as a community of faith, we publicly teach that government must protect and secure those rights in providing for the common good -- that’s why our Church advocates for government to fulfill this proper role. But government in turn can’t protect these rights without the means to do it – and so that is a very fundamental role for the taxes we pay. And not only that, we here today, and Christians everywhere must have the courage as a people of faith to raise this faith perspective in the public arena; which brings us to today, because the wider public discourse on these topics has clearly lost its way.

We all probably recognize that engaging this topic as a matter of our faith is not easy, because there is so much intense emotion around the topic of government and the subject of taxes, particularly right now. And so in response to that, starting sometime in January, our parish Social Justice Commission will sponsor an eight-week program called Living Solidarity. The program is designed to engage the question, What kind of society do we wish to become? Its focus will be on Government, the Federal Budget, and the Common Good. It will be about our Catholic values, not our personal opinions, but I predict it will nonetheless be a very lively program – especially since it will be offered right during the beginning weeks of the presidential primaries. But that’s OK – whoever said that Church is boring?

Finally, as we turn to our Eucharist this evening, I invite you to consider the early Christian communities and their fresh enthusiasm for the life of the risen Jesus. Remember the way they shared everything they had so that everyone in the community would be provided for. And as you receive our Lord Jesus tonight, I invite you to ask him to give you, to give all of us here this evening, to give all our brothers and sisters across the land, a sharing of the same spirit that inspired those early Christians.

Deacon Denny Duffell

This One Got Me

2011-09-26T09:34:00.000-07:00

When it's my turn to give the homily, I usually cannot help but take the scripture passage to heart. Sometimes, though, the experience is even stronger than that -- I KNOW that Jesus is speaking directly to me. Praying with this gospel was one of those times.

26th Sunday of Ordinary Time (A)

Today’s parable begins a section of Matthew’s gospel in which Jesus has a series of confrontations with the religious authorities in Jerusalem. Now I’m not going to go into all the ins and outs of that section today, but I would just urge you to read chapters 21, 22, and 23 of Matthew. We’ll be reading from that section through the end of October, and these five weeks will really fit for you if you read them as a whole. Today’s first passage is unique to Matthew, and through it Jesus teaches a message similar to the one we hear in our first reading from Ezekiel: if you turn from sin and convert to the Lord and the Lord’s ways, you will have life.

The two sons in the parable represent two different groups within Israel. The first symbolizes the religious outcasts, the prostitutes, and tax collectors. Obviously, they had made some bad choices, and their actions had placed themselves outside of the law; but through John the Baptist they sought repentance and then followed Jesus. The second corresponds to the religious leaders who built their life and reputation on knowing and professing the law. But they questioned John’s teaching and did not follow him, just as they now question Jesus’ authority. And so it was the outcasts and sinners who actually did the Father’s will and so found Life, while the religious leaders who professed their righteousness were the ones who remained mired in sin and Death.

I find readings like this very difficult. Do you remember the story of the man born blind? Jesus healed that man, remember, but then religious authorities questioned the poor man and eventually threw him out. Finally, at the end, Jesus finds him – and then makes the declaration, “I came into this world for judgment, so that those who do not see might see, and those who do see might become blind.” And he finally tells the Pharisees, “If you were blind, you would have no sin, but now you are saying, ‘We see,’ so your sin remains.”

These gospels are hard for me. They are written about Jesus’ confrontations with the Pharisees, the chief priests and the elders, but they are not only about the Pharisees; they are not only about the sins of the chief priests or elders. I think they should be hard for all of us here today, but you alone can know what it says to you. But I know they are hard for me.

If we are God’s children, and God asks us to love our neighbors as ourselves, and we live in comfort when we see his other children hungry or homeless or sick or desperate or on the run, does God think we are doing what he has asked us to do? Or when our brother Jesus time and time again reaches out to lepers and foreigners and public sinners, and then asks us to follow him, and we do our best to improve our own standing in the world, and deliberately seek places to live and work where we won’t ever have to encounter the very ones he spent so much time with, does Jesus say to us, “Well done, good and faithful servant”? Or will Jesus say to us, “Amen, the tax collectors and prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God before you”?

What this gospel tells me is that I had better be on the side of the prostitutes, the lowly ones, the shady people who know their life is broken but who want to be healed, who long for wholeness though they can hardly allow themselves to hope for it. I had better be close to the alcoholic who knows his life has spilled down the drain, but who wants to be free of his chains. I had better be the friend of the young runaway who was abused by her stepfather, who needs shelter & a hot meal, who deserves to know real love and compassion. I had better understand the desperation of the jobless man who can’t find a lasting job to feed his children and feels he’s no good to anyone anymore. This gospel tells me that when I go down to Children’s Hospital to stand with suffering children or grieving parents whose broken hearts reach for God, that I had better know that their sorrow places them closer to God than I am, so that I know what a gift they give me when they allow me to be part of their lives.

My life is easy, but I want to follow Jesus. I want my hands to be his hands in caring for the lost and forgotten, because that’s what his hands did. I want my eyes to be his eyes in searching for those who live in darkness, because his eyes were able to find them. I want my voice to be his voice to all I meet, because his words could be so tender and kind and yet so searingly direct and honest. I want my heart to love as he loved, because his heart reached out to everyone, even in forgiving those who drove nails through his hands and a sword in his side.

My life is easy, but I want to follow Jesus; and I tell you, this gospel makes me restless. And so I long for our Eucharist today – to remember once again how he gave himself for us and how he gives himself to us even now. I know I need his courage and consolation and strength in order to follow the path he calls me to follow. I think we all do.

Denny Duffell
September 25, 2011

Another Miracle

2011-09-23T13:25:00.000-07:00

Every year at this time, St. Bridget runs its annual Elephant Stampede, for the people of Namitembo in Malawi, Africa. It's really a picnic, and we stage a 5K run/walk, with the proceeds to go to our friends in Namitembo.

Last year it rained mercilessly all Saturday night, before the day of the race. I woke up during the downpour, and couldn't sleep the rest of the night. It continued raining -- hard -- all during the Sunday morning 8:30 a.m. Mass. And then...miraculously, not only did the rain stop, but the sun came out during the 10:30 a.m. Mass, and the event went on as planned! We were all amazed, and of course delighted.

This year was almost a repeat performance! All week long the weather forecast was showing rain for Sunday, the day of the event. It started raining during the night on Saturday -- hard. Again, I woke up during the rain, and couldn't go back to sleep. I finally got up around 7:00 a.m.... and a few minutes later, the rain slowed, and stopped. The wind was still blowing during the 10:30 a.m. Mass, but around 11:00 you could see breaks in the clouds, with the sun shining every once in a while. By noon, the winds also calmed down, and by the time the siren blew, we had a lovely fall day in Seattle, just perfect for a picnic.

I don't know how much we raised as of yet, but I'm confident we raised enough to fund the operations of the Trade School for another year. Halleluia!

Nine-Eleven at the Neighbor's

2011-09-11T18:15:00.000-07:00

Today is September 11th, the ten-year anniversary of the attack on the Twin Towers and the Pentagon. It's only a coincidence that I was preaching at our neighboring parish of Assumption. The pastor, Fr. Oliver, had graciously invited me to speak at all the Masses, in order to say a few words about JustFaith, which is a program I hope to offer in the mornings near the elementary school we share, Assumption-St. Bridget.

The readings were exquisite -- you could hardly have chosen better readings for this date. At the first Mass I made the mistake of getting unnecessarily detailed about the program. Well, no one's perfect! I hope I successfully corrected that in the version below.

Just as an aside... there are a LOT of good things on-line right now, posted because of this anniversary. There is also a lot of mush. (Sorry to be so blunt.)

24th Sunday Ordinary Time, A
10th Anniversary of Nine-Eleven

Good morning. It is a privilege and a pleasure to be with you on this absolutely beautiful morning. It was nice to see everyone so pleasant and welcoming as they came to Mass this morning. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m the deacon over at your neighboring parish of St. Bridget. I’m also a chaplain over at Seattle Children’s Hospital, and I’ve been in both places for 28 years now.

Fr. Oliver was kind enough to allow me to spend a few minutes with you today, both to reflect upon the scriptures and also to share with you something that has been going on for the last few years within some of your neighboring parishes. But before that, I know that we’re very aware that today is the 10th anniversary of the terrorist attacks on our country. We remember today all the innocent victims of that attack: those who died when the towers collapsed, those who died at the Pentagon, and all the passengers in those four planes. And we remember also the selfless courage and heroism of so many people who risked their own lives trying to save others. Our hearts were united with them all then, as were the hearts of so many people around the world.

It is right for us to remember them! And it is important to ponder what our faith might have to say on this occasion, just as it is always valuable to reflect about what our faith has to say about the important issues of our times. However, that reflection might turn bittersweet. For just as we remember the victims and the heroes of that day, none of us can forget either that one short month after that attack, while our own country was still in mourning, our United States military forces invaded Afghanistan, and not long afterwards, Iraq. And today, ten years later, our military forces are still heavily involved in both countries.

Today’s First Reading and Gospel almost seem to have been deliberately chosen for this day. From the book of Sirach we hear, “Wrath and anger are hateful things”; “The vengeful will suffer the Lord’s vengeance”; and “Hate not your neighbor.” And then of course, in our gospel Jesus tells us a dramatic story about forgiveness, in order to demonstrate that we are to forgive others because we have been forgiven for so much. These scriptures are the voice of God speaking to us, and that voice in today’s scriptures seems clear and strong! Do we ignore it? Do we qualify it and explain it away? Or do we hear it and heed it? And, if we really want to hear it and heed it, just how do we do that, especially when facing painful and complicated realities like terrorism and war?

It just happens that the anniversary of 9-11 coincides with these scriptures today; but other scriptures speak God’s voice forcefully in ways that can be applied to many other issues in modern life. Over the centuries our Church has accumulated and developed a body of teaching based on the scriptures and our efforts to live them out. The body of teaching to which I refer is our Catholic Social Teaching, and the principles of social justice and peace. These teachings motivate us to respond to the needs of the sick and the aged, the poor and vulnerable, those who are in need or in trouble. These principles call us to be a people who hunger and thirst for justice, and they call us to speak up for those lowly ones who have no voice.

But these matters can get … sticky! Talking about a need for immigration reform, for instance, might get you into an argument. Saying that all people have a right to health care might immediately label you one way or another. To ask questions about the size of our military forces or our nuclear arsenal might get you branded as soft or unpatriotic. The same tensions arise if the subject is the federal budget and taxes, or the growing gap between the very wealthy and the very poor. And there are some questions so hot or personal that we don’t feel safe talking about them at all – racism, for example. Justice can often be controversial, and it takes courage not to just go along with what everyone else thinks.

And yet, in all of these questions and more, our Catholic teachings DO have something very wise to say. Don’t you think that people of good will really DO care about what our faith has to say about real issues in the world around us? ... and that they will then want to act on our faith in constructive, realistic ways, without a lot of rhetoric? I KNOW it is possible! But a major difficulty is that most of us know far too little about our own teachings and traditions on social justice and peace.

For me, three years ago I made a commitment with a few other people to be a part of a program called JustFaith. This program was started several years ago in a Catholic parish in Tennesee, and as it grew it found its way to the Seattle Archdiocese, about 6 or 7 years ago. JustFaith is a program designed to learn, discuss, experience, and pray about our Church’s social teachings. Quite simply, I think it’s the best parish program I have ever seen-- and I know that it’s not possible for every person here to be a part of this program, but I wish it were! There are several parishes in the archdiocese who have sponsored this program – a few of them in Northeast Seattle. There are small groups starting later this month, one on Wednesday mornings right over at Mary House, on the other side of the school – and if there are parishioners who might consider accepting the invitation to explore this, there is more information in the back of church.

But I know most of you can’t sign up for this, so I would ask you ALL to PRAY for justice and peace. And pray for the success of this effort. And one thing more … I invite you, I urge you, to pay careful attention to our Church teachings on social justice and peace, especially over the next 14 months. The God who speaks to us today in Sirach has warned us about wrath, anger, and vengeance on the anniversary of 9-11. The Jesus Christ who speaks to us in today’s gospel warns us to forgive others or else we ourselves might not find forgiveness. And I am certain that our God has a lot MORE to say to us, especially as our country considers so many social issues over the next 14 months, as we prepare for the next round of elections.

May God bless you all, and thank you for your kind attention this morning.

Deacon Denny Duffell
Given at Assumption Parish, 9/11/11

Another Kind of Debt

2011-09-05T15:30:00.000-07:00

Yesterday's homily put me through something of a personal wringer. First of all, the readings for the 23rd Ordinary Sunday for Matthew were excellent. The first Reading's passage, from Ezekiel, speaks about being at "watchman" for others...that we have an obligation to warn others who are about to do wrong. I DO think we have that obligation, and it would have been an opportunity to speak about the prophetic voice, especially FOR the poor and AGAINST war & the preparation for war. The Gospel reading is a great passage too, about reconciliation -- not just forgiveness, but healing the rift between people. It also fits very well with next Sunday's Gospel.

But the reading itself, from Paul's letter to the Romans, hooked me at the first word: DEBT. As I say up front in the homily, I absolutely hate debt, and I really don't like being indebted, whether impersonally to a bank or personally to someone else. To a certain extent, I don't think that's always good ... and that might sometime be a good topic for another blog, or homily.

Here's the homily...

23rd Sunday of Ordinary Time (A), 2011
All three readings this morning are really excellent, and they’re all very easy to reflect on. But oddly enough it was the second reading which hooked me, because it starts out by talking about something I really hate: DEBT! Anyone in my family will tell you that I really hate debt. I do know what it is to be in debt, as most of us here today do. We may have a mortgage on the house, a note against the car, a Visa bill or student loans – and let’s not get started on the national debt.

But if these were not enough, our reading from Romans today reminds us of another debt, a different kind of debt, one we should be able to accept because it has the power to lift and enrich life. St. Paul calls it our debt of love: “Owe nothing to anyone, EXCEPT to love one another.” He then uses words that are very familiar, first from the Ten Commandments and then from Jesus’ words from the two great commandments, of to loving God and loving our neighbor as ourselves. But what is different in this context is that Paul is talking about love as something we owe -- and that’s why I would like to focus on it today, because we might not always think of love that way.

I think the first thing I would like to point out is that the actual words used by both Jesus and St. Paul are: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” As yourself! In other words, love is first of all something that we owe OURSELVES.

Now, that’s not a new idea. Our culture gives us that message all the time, but it’s not usually the first message we find in church. In fact, just last week our gospel reminded us that following Jesus meant we should deny ourselves, and take up our cross. But the messages do not contradict one another. Loving ourselves does not mean loving ONLY ourselves, or PAMPERING ourselves, or making ourselves the FOCUS of everything. But it does mean we need to love ourselves, to treat ourselves with respect. The truth is that it is very difficult to have a solid relationship with others unless we also come to terms with ourselves.

There may be many people we might find to be unpleasant, but most of them we can manage to avoid. Sometimes we might want get away from our family, so we go to work. Or our boss is difficult, so we can’t wait to go home. Sometimes we’re so glad to send our children off to school – wow, a bit more space in our lives! – and believe me, sometime they’re glad to go, to get away from us! We can love to go away on vacation, to get away from EVERYONE. But there is one person in this world that we can never escape, one person we will have to live with throughout the darkest hours of the night and longest eon of eternity. Go to work, go to school, go on vacation, go to bed… that person will be there, because that one person is our self. Doesn’t it just make sense for us to become the kind of person and build the kind of life that we can respect and admire and enjoy being around? If we don’t, we might fool a lot of people – but we cheat ourselves.

I heard a story one time about a man who was a construction foreman for a wealthy financier. The financier furnished the money, the foreman furnished the know-how, and together they were in the building business. One day the financier called the foreman into his office. He explained that he would be out of the city for a while and that while he was gone he wanted a house built, a really good house. He said, “Here are the plans, and I have deposited in the local bank under your signature the amount needed to build the house.” The foreman took the plans, left the office, and began to think. He said, “This is an opportunity. I know the business. I can trim some corners, save some money, and put it in my pocket, and no one will be the wiser.”

So he made up his mind, and that is what he did. When he poured the foundation, he used the cheapest labor and the cheapest materials. When he put in the plumbing, the wiring, the roof – he used the cheapest labor and cheapest materials. He cut corners everywhere, and when he had finished, he had cut the cost over a third, almost in half – and then he put that sum in his pocket and said, “No one will know.” And his boss came home; together they went to view the house. And after a few moments, the financier said, “I didn’t tell you this before you left, because I wanted it to be a surprise. You’ve served me long and well, and I want to show my appreciation." He gave the builder a key, and he said, “Here, this is YOUR house. You have built it, and now it’s your to live in.” And in the months ahead, that poorly constructed house mocked him and laughed at him, and said, “You only cheated yourself.”

You and I are both in the building business. And if we build our lives out of cheap and shabby materials, one day an empty hull of a life will look at us from the mirror and mock us, and say “You cheated yourself.” This is what the debt of love means when it says that we must first love ourselves. We must make ourselves temples for the Holy Spirit to live within!

Now there is of course a second part of the debt that St. Paul is talking about: to love our neighbor as we love ourselves. For most of us that is a sizeable order. It can be so easy for us to be wrapped up in what’s going on in our own lives that we have too little time left to go outside ourselves. I’m told that even when we retire, the hours and days can get filled up so fast just with all our own “stuff.” So…why? Why should we really care about anyone outside ourselves, or our own immediate circle?

Now I know we’re here in church, and we share a faith that provides us ways to answer that question. But our reading from Paul today invites us to think about love as a debt…

So let me ask: how many things do we enjoy today because someone else has made a contribution to our lives? Is there any one of us who can stand up and honestly say, “This is my life; I hold a clear title; I don’t owe anything to anybody”? It is not just that God has created us and loves us and sustains us and we could never repay that. A little honest reflection will tell us more: across the years there are hundreds of others, no, it’s more like thousands, people who have taken a little or a lot of themselves and invested it in us. We are who we are because other people have cared enough and given enough to help us along the way, and any achievement that is ours in life is NOT ours alone. We are living composites of the contributions of family and friends and neighbors and teachers and a thousand other people, some whose names we will never know. There’s no way to repay that debt … but we can perhaps hope to “return the interest on that debt” – by loving God and loving others as we ourselves have been loved.

Well, it’s a lovely morning, sunny but cool, so I will just end today by inviting us all to call to mind during our Eucharist those who love us, and all that has been given to us in love.

Deacon Denny Duffell
September 4, 2011

Don't Get Sick in Blantyre

2011-08-29T09:43:00.000-07:00

Malawi has been suffering from poverty during all of its history as a nation. Now is a particularly difficult time. In addition to a meglomaniac for president, rampant government corruption, widespread poverty, fuel shortages, and intermittant electrical service (to those few hubs that have it at all), you can now add water shortages. [See this story.] That wouldn't be unusual if Malawi were located on the Horn of Africa or close to the Sahara, but Malawi has a definite rainy season.

It's ironic to have water shortages in a country with such a HUGE water source (Lake Malawi) running along the length of most of the country. But there's no infrastructure that taps that resource, and a city the size of Blantyre (nearly 700,00 people) can't depend on wells for its source of water. This short article paints a grim picture. I'm glad I'm not in a hospital in Blantyre; it seems to be an epidemic waiting to happen.

O'Malley's List

2011-08-26T11:48:00.000-07:00

Several years ago, the Seattle Archdiocese experienced its own sex-abuse news blow-up. I became involved because I publicly substantiated the claim that there had been an allegation against Fr. John Cornelius, who at the time was the only African-American priest that the Seattle Archdiocese had (I had been his Parish Administrator for five years). In retrospect, it really was a small thing; but at the time, its timing fed what became a firestorm of publicity, coming right at the time of the Archdiocesan Annual Catholic Appeal. My wife Joan heads the international non-profit Committee for Children, which produces educational materials for the prevention of child sexual abuse; she was aware of everything, and quietly supported me through that sleepless period of time.

This morning I read an article on Cardinal Sean O'Malley, who succeeded the infamous Cardinal Law in Boston. The article describes his recent action in publishing the names of diocesan priest offenders:

O'Malley announced that, after "serious and thoughtful consideration and prayer," he was releasing a list of Boston priests and deacons who have either been found guilty of sexual abuse of a minor, or publicly accused of such abuse. The names have been organized into a searchable format, available on the archdiocesan web site. Each entry includes the cleric's current status (suspended, laicized, etc.) and a link to his assignment history. In tandem with the launch, O'Malley issued a detailed seven-page letter explaining the reasoning underlying his decision.

The article also mentions that while 24 other dioceses have published lists, Boston's was the most well-organized, especially with its searchable format.

Let's hope that the cardinal's very public action prods other dioceses to do the same. A few weeks ago, news surfaced in Seattle that a deceased former pastor of my parish, Fr. Dennis Meuhe, had been accused of sex abuse at a previous parish. It caused parishioners here more than a little consternation! Perhaps if a list like Boston's were made public by dioceses around the country (or around the whole world, for that matter), victims would feel less isolated and more able to find support, peace, and healing. There would certainly be fewer unwelcome surprises, and fewer sleepless weeks.

Seeing Is Believing

2011-08-08T14:52:00.000-07:00

These are just a few of the pictures from our African trip! These were all taken by Julie Henling, who went on our trip to Namitembo. This first is a young boy sitting next to maize cobs, from which the kernals have been removed, to be ground in the maize mill at the Mission.

This next shot is great. These two little ones are students at the nursery school next to the Trade School -- it was built and is run by a group called Ubwino Wa Amayi ("for the good of the woman, educate the girl"). They provided this so that young women who have had children can still complete their education at the Namitembo high school or Trade School.

And with this picture, no words are necessary...

And this one says "Africa." This was taken from a boat about 20-30 feet away!

Describing something to people who have never seen it...

2011-08-05T15:57:00.000-07:00

Last weekend it was my turn again for the weekend homily. Since I had recently been to Malawi (see the last two posts), and had sent articles for the bulletin during our visit, I was asked by a lot of people to say more.

There is too little time during a homily to do this well. I could easy have told a few stories of the visit -- we had so many great experiences! But I really wanted to explain how St. Bridget had really made a difference, just in what I had personally seen over the last 9 years.

This is what I came up with. During the last half of the homily, I came down from the ambo (that's church terminology for "pulpit," or "lectern") and stood in the middle of the church, to describe the Trade School to our parishioners. I returned to the front for my last points, about leadership, and the effect on our parishioners who visit, especially the young.

Eighteen Sunday of Ordinary Time, Cycle A

Good morning to you. It’s a delight and privilege to be back here with you, and to share a few words with you. I’ve missed you! My last appearance at this Mass was June 18 – that was a month and a half ago. I know you won’t believe me when I say I’ve been working nearly all that time! Of course, I’m sure most of you know that I was in Malawi for about a month, with seven of our teens and four other adults. Last Sunday after each Mass, lots of people asked why I didn’t say anything about Namitembo and our sister parish…well, it wasn’t my “turn,” but I’ll make up for that briefly today.

There’s no way that I can capture that trip in a few minutes, and I’m very sure you don’t want me to give a 45 minute homily -- like Fr. Phillip did at one of the Masses that our some of our youth attended in Malawi. And I’m equally sure you might have a hard time staying alert if we had a 4½ hour Mass, like the Corpus Christi Masses we attended, with a special procession at the end of Mass. Or like what they call their “Paper Sunday” Mass, so-called because they have a special collection for seminarians, and every group in the parish, with all their members, dances up to the front of the church and puts something in the collection basket – the point is to put not coins but paper currency in the basket. That Sunday I went to an outchurch that has one of their own members as a seminarian, and fortunately he happened to be at that Mass. And so that Mass was especially joyous -- and proud, too -- and the dancing went on and on and on. Now, you should know that from all the people at that church, and from all of the 7 outchurches, the combined collection was about 150,000 kwatcha, which was the largest collection in the history of the parish, and probably the largest collection at any rural church in Malawi that weekend. That actually is a lot of money for them; but you should know that this record collection totaled about $750. That’s less than a third of what any one of us travelers spent for the plane ticket to go and visit Namitembo.

Well, what can I say? Perhaps I should tell you of the differences I have seen in the nine years since I first visited there. The first thing is the increased access to electricity. Most people don’t have electricity, or running water either, especially people in a rural area like Namitembo. But you see it in more places; at the schools located at Namitembo, or in the teachers’ housing that we’re helped build, and in a few other places. In fact, for a few kwatcha, you can often get to watch a movie or television show that somebody is showing. This means that Malawians can now see hear about the outside world, how other people dress, and what their homes and cities are like. They all know who Obama is, and not surprisingly, most people love him. They’re aware of China, and they’re very aware of the wider Moslem world, much more so than we are, in fact, perhaps because many of their neighbors are Moslem.

Another huge change is the telephone. Fr. Owen once told me that my voice was the first voice heard from America to Namitembo, back in the late 90’s, when the mission first got telephone access. But today, telephones are common. Why? Because you don’t need wires anymore, you don’t need an infrastructure – just cell towers! Again, though most people can’t afford a phone – most people have access to a phone, through somebody that does have one. That communication change is HUGE.

But the biggest change in the Namitembo area, in my mind, is one that we have helped to bring about. It’s education. There are elementary schools for each of the outchurches in Namitembo. We first helped build teacher housing, to attract the teachers. Then we helped build classrooms, where once the children had gathered for class under the trees. And when I visited in 2002, the one and only high school in the areas was Namitembo secondary school, and it had 18 students, only two girls. Today, because we’ve helped expand it, the Namitembo secondary school buildings offers 5 to 10 times the classroom area, and six teachers’ houses; and there are over 300 students enrolled, a high percentage of them young women. And even better than that, in another, more remote part of the parish, where in 2002 there was only an overgrown field, there are three large classroom blocks, along with a large hall called the Mike Foy Hall, along with teacher housing; and there are now 200 students attending that high school.

But the crown jewel of the educational effort, is the Namitembo Trade and Agriculture School, which we’ve been talking about for the last few years. In 2002 it was only a topic of conversation between a few people. Today it is surely the most extensive and beautiful complex that you will find in rural Malawi. There’s no way I can adequately communicate this to you, standing right here, so I’m going to move right down there [to the center of the main aisle].

[Here my remarks were extemporaneous. First I commented that our whole church and hall, and the parish offices that surround them would all fit comfortably in the courtyard of the Trade School! Behind me, “around NE 50th St,” was the Administrative block…with a library, Administrator’s office, a space for a secretary, for the Deputy Administrator, and a large faculty room, with a couple of computers. Then to my right, “along 50th Ave NE,” was a Tailoring classroom, with about 15 sewing machines, powered by a foot pedals, and next to it the Business Center, with a copier and a couple of more computers connected to the internet via a satellite dish that we had installed, that the school and wider community had access to for a small fee. Then the Computer classroom, with 12-14 computers, supplied by our parish – then the more advanced Tailoring classroom, then three more classrooms for teaching the theory/science for two levels of both Carpentry and Bricklaying…then “beyond where the driveway is,” three large workshop areas and storeroom…then “to my left,” there was nothing …nothing but land --- stretching for several hundred yards, maybe a half-mile -- for a future time when the school might offer Agriculture …then” behind me and to the left,” a large Hall used for assemblies or meals…then the men’s dorm, and a small kitchen…then “on the other side, behind the classrooms,” the women’s dorm, then four large duplexes for teacher housing, then “further down the road,” two more houses for faculty… I directed my view and body language around the whole area, moving faster as I went along… and finished by repeating what I said at the beginning: that anyone who sees this school is astounded that something so extensive and so beautiful has been built in rural Malawi. Finally, I return to the ambo.]

Today, we see another change taking place. After almost 15 years as the pastor of Namitembo parish, Fr. Owen is being reassigned by his religious order to another mission, on the other side of the diocese, a couple of hours drive from Namitembo. And the leadership of Namitembo parish will be in the hands of a native Malawian priest for the first time: Fr. Phillip, who has visited here with us three times already. This is a HUGE change. We’ve grown accustomed to working with Fr. Owen, someone who charmed us all with his Scottish accent, and who was obviously an excellent project manager. Fr. Phillip is also delightful in so many ways, but they’re different ways, and we don’t know yet what that means as we consider our future together. But his leadership is a huge gift to the people, because he himself is like them, a Malawian; and he walks it and breathes it and lives it.

Finally…there is one other change I should note…and that’s the change in us, here at St. Bridget – especially those of us who have gone to visit. Namitembo is very real to us. And that is especially true of our young people who have gone to visit. I know this personally, because my own son John went to visit Namitembo; and because of that, he later decided to give 2½ years of his life to volunteer there. We cannot all go to Africa to visit…but we can all listen to the voices and experiences of those others who have gone to visit, and so let their experiences touch our hearts.

In less than two months, as our summer is ending, we’ll hold our 15th annual Elephant Stampede, to fund our ongoing work in Namitembo. Those of us who went on this journey have many great stories to share, and we’ll schedule opportunities for them to share them with you. Thank you for giving me your time.

Denny Duffell
July 31st, 2011

PS -- By the way...a few people asked me afterwards how much of the Trade School our parish had helped build. The answer is: ALL OF IT.

Not Culture Shock -- But Culturally Shocked

2011-07-29T19:25:00.000-07:00

I finally got back to Seattle from Malawi just a couple of days ago, and have been catching up on things at the hospital and parish office. Besides feeling assaulted by the absolute insanity going on right now in Washington, DC, I've also been saddened to read of things that have happened in Malawi since I left, at the socio-political level. Numbers differ, but at least 19 people have been killed during the recent demonstrations.

The demonstrations protest the policies and actions of the President. Malawi is experiencing widespread gas shortages that threaten key functions of society. Vehicles of all kinds -- including large semi-trucks as well as some private cars -- were lined up for miles. But in many places, it was several days before there was any gas. Likewise, Malawi's electical delivery has been frequently, increasingly erratic. One friend of mine now in Malawi experienced five shortages in the few hours' time during our communications, the other day.

Of course, most people in Malawi do not have any electricity -- just as most people do not have any use for gasoline, since they do not have any vehicle or engine that would use it. But in the towns and cities, these disfunctions are stretching the social fabric. The government gets few points.

[Consider one area NOT part of that taut social fabric: water. Water is a very personal need. Malawi is not a desert area, like other, not-too-distant countries. It possesses not only an inevitable though not predictable rainy season, but also a marvelous, untapped water source, Lake Malawi, which runs along the east for most of the length of the country. But in most places -- again, in the rural areas, much of it in southern Malawi -- it is not the Malawian government providing water, this most basic of needs. Rather, this is being developed by many non-governmental organizations (even relatively small ones like ourselves, a "sister parish"). These NGOs are helping tap this potential, mostly through a partnership with a local community.]

OK, it is not ineptitude that has brought these ills. Basically, it's povery...coupled with governmental corruption. And the US Government, through the Millennium Challenge Corporation, has just halted a $350 million, multi-year deal to develop Malawian water/power capabilities: "The MCC is deeply concerned by recent events in Malawi and is placing an immediate hold on all program operations in order to review its partnership with Malawi, including whether to recommend to its Board of Directors whether to suspend or terminate its assistance" [REUTERS].

And sometimes there is official behaviour that seems like lneptitude, until you realize that somebody is making a lot of money from it. I referenced in an earlier blog about the current monetary policy and the shortages...how "$30,000 can become $40,000." You might think: "How could the government of Malawi be that stupid! After a while, what importer or trader would ever want to take kwatcha? Bingo, a shortage!" But then, all of a sudden you realize that SOMEBODY IS MAKING A LOT OF MONEY ON THIS POLICY.

However, beyond this one simple corruption and other much wider-ranging corruption, the manner that the President displays is also erratic, threatening, and focused on his own image -- in a manner that evokes the man he regards as a hero, former "President for Life" Hastings Banda. Ironically, he seems unaware of his worsening dictatorian turn, like his hero.

Last week, demonstrations were planned simultaneously in the 4 major cities and in many towns. Organizers told their supporters to wear red. It is said that when the government heard this, they put the word out to arrest those who were wearing red.

The tensions of those situations spilled over. Police or other security officials fired on the crowd. At least 19 are dead. You wouldn't have caught me in those demonstrations, but then I think of that folk song, "It coulda been me, but instead it was you..." I am saddened at this turn of events. I am saddened, but...

When you think of the lack of infrastructure in Malawi, with the lack of good roads, inconsistancies in electricity in those places that have it, difficulties of access to clean water across large areas of the country, shortage of medical care/access... When you think of that, you have to marvel that somehow, the people of Malawi managed to coordinate with each other for that many simultaneous demonstrations. I know that the widespread access to cell-phones has enabled communications for a wide array of people, organizations, and interests, including churches like our partner. This is a sample of the power of community, enabled through communications. This is a powerful thing, and it is impacting the culture of Malawi in unpredictable but seemingly wondrous ways.

Of course, it is NOT wondrous that 19 people are dead! So I am torn, when I think of my friends in Malawi, and pray for them (like I'm praying for my own country right now). I am thankful that in general, what goes on in the cities of Malawi does not affect the rural areas much. But that could change.

I'll write more again, soon. And thanks, Crystal, for causing me to write this!

A World Apart

2011-07-10T10:35:00.000-07:00

Thursday, June 23rd
I'm writing from Namitembo Mission, in Malawi, Africa! There are twelve of us on this "expedition," 5 adults and 7 teenagers. Namitembo is our sister parish, and I've blogged about it before. We've had a partnership for 14 years, and we've exchanged visits every year -- this year it was our turn to visit. I've had the good fortune to visit 5 other times, and another adult, Mary Jo, is on her third visit. My son John has us all beat, though, as he served here as a volunteer for 2 1/2 years, and now knows the language (Chichewa) fluently.

Today was our "recuperation day," after a long trip to arrive here. Malawi is in southeastern Africa, almost completely on the other side of the planet. The flight here took three separate hops -- Seattle to London, six hour layover, London to Johannesburg, three hour layover, Jo-burg to Blantyre, 3+ hours, followed by a two-hour drive, mostly over rutted dirt roads. Plus, we "lost" nine hours by the change of longitude. We left last Monday about 6 p.m., and arrived on Wednesday around 3 p.m. or so. Most of us had trouble sleeping on the plane over the two nights of travel, so we arrived feeling a bit dopey and a bit dirty...but very glad to arrive.

Our #1 priority today is to rest, so that's what I'm going to do. Will write more tomorrow!
*** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Friday, June 24th
Most of us felt pretty good this morning! I started by attending 6 a.m. Mass. It started at about 6:15, but who cares? Two of our youth also showed up -- THAT was a happy surprise! Of course, the Mass was in Chechewa, but the Mass still has the same structure, so I just said my English responses at the appropriate times.

*** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Now, it's:
Sunday, July 10
Well, it's not that I'm lazy -- it's just that getting internet access in the rural 3rd world is a little bit iffy. I've occasionally had email access, but getting this connection took me over a half hour. Now that I'm on my blog, I'm a bit overwhelmed about where to start. We've already had so many experiences; plus, we've kept a daily log of those experiences, so we won't forget. However, we've had the agreement with one another that we won't share the log, SO...

These are some personal reflections. First of all, in the 9 years since my first visit here, I can see many changes, even in rural Malawi. Examples abound. Now, we have some electrical connections to the schools and teachers' houses on the main "campus" (that word fits, but it's NOTHING like any campus on any university) of the mission. Electicity is big...it means lights at night, it means things like radio or TV or DVDs players. Not that many people have them, but some do. In fact, there are little "storefronts" in the rural areas (meaning something like a small newstand with small items or services for sale) where you might find a small TV screen that will play a movie -- for a small price. That's a big hit, if you have the kwatcha (short economics lesson here: a dollar will buy you 147 kwatcha officially (from a bank here in Malawi, where you might wire money to someone), but more if you go to some place that will do that (you'll find them in the U.S. at international airports, but not very many will give you kwatcha). However, if you have some connection with somebody who knows somebody who really wants a good supply of US dollars (commonly called the black market), you can get almost 200 to the dollar...a third more than the official rate.

Back to the changes that I've seen... another is that cell phones are all over the place. They're FAR more common than land lines in the 3rd world, for the simple reason is that you don't have to create the infrastructure that we have in the US. You just erect a tower in a high place, and bingo, phone service. Most people don't have a contract for using a phone, like we do in the US, but instead "buy" a certain number of minutes, for phone calls or texting. It allows communication over long distances, which is a huge change, and also allows communication over short distances that are not easily traversed (for instance, if you don't have a car, which describes most people, or if your car is useless, as it can be in the rainy season, when the roads become almost impassable).

With these two changes, people have become a LOT more aware of the world outside their immediate experience, even if most people still cannot travel there. For instance, I've had a lot of people ask me about Obama -- he's very popular here, for obvious reasons. They are very aware of the Chinese, and of the Muslim world. In fact, in some ways those who are well educated here are even better aware of the rest of the world than we are, because news coverage here is more balanced. US citizens are usually only interested in those things that directly affect us -- just measure the amount and the kind of world news coverage you get in almost any US newspaper.

There are also lot more bicycles around now; in place of 2 or 3 "parked" outside the church on Sunday, you might now have 20. This means that more people can transport some goods for sale in a wider market (like charcoal, which they can make here and sell in town; if you drive to town early in the day, you'll pass bike after bike loaded down with HUGE amounts of charcoal), or transport someone else (this is the rural 3rd world "taxi" service -- which is what they DO call it). It has begun to open more things up for the poor, by offering a few more options; and you can see that there will probably be more.

Our youth have enjoyed themselves a LOT. All of them are college-bound kids, and probably the majority will have post-graduate degrees, in engineering, law, or medicine. Since education has been our number one focus with our sister parish, whenever I've introduced our youth, at Mass or at the schools we've visited, I've made a point of talking about their education and their goals. I can see it's made an impression. A few years ago, the Namitembo high school had a grand total of 18 students, and it was rare to see more than a girl or two in high school. Now, there are over 300 students enrolled in the high school, and almost as many girls as boys. There's a growing understanding that education is important, that it can be a doorway to the future. Even now, 85% of all Malawians are subsistence farmers, with their lives linked to the whims of weather. That is changing.

I have to go now -- and I do want to post this. If I get access again, in the next couple of days, I'll post more. If not...it'll have to hold until I get back to the US, next weekend.

What I Struggle With

2011-06-18T12:17:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, we held the final retreat for our Engaging Spirituality group. I haven't been able to attend the regular weekly sessions, because they were being held at the same time as our JustFaith meetings, but I've attended a few times, and have made it to three of the four retreats.

There is a regular exercise at each of the meetings and retreats that is called Bearings...where a letter is read from someone who has been active in Justice/Peace for a good part of his/her life. In these letters, there are three topics: My Struggle (what the person has struggled with over the years, and especially now), My Practice (what the person finds uplifting, grace-giving, sustaining), and My Challenge (what the person invites the hearers to take to heart, to live out). In addition to those guest writers, over the course of the weeks each member of the ES group is asked to write a personal Bearings letter, to share with the group.

I was asked to share my own Bearings letter as the final letter, at our closing retreat. The exercise of pondering, writing, & rewriting was cathartic; and when I read my Bearings letter to the group, I honestly found myself in tears when I read aloud the "struggles" part. Here are the last two paragraphs from that section of the letter.

"However, my biggest two struggles are getting more difficult as I get older. One is with my Church, which I do love. But perhaps because I love it, it is so hard not to be very disappointed with it, and sometimes very angry. I'm not even talking about priests who sexually abuse kids, but the tendencies still within our Church that kept it quiet. I'm talking about celibates who deny ministry and leadership roles to women and married people and cloak it in theology. I'm talking about authority figures who love the trappings of power, who are clubby with each other, or who cozy up to the powers of the world instead of challenging them. I have always struggled with this, but more so of late. Maybe it's because I'm getting older, but I'm afraid it's because I think it's getting worse. Fortunately, our best theology is stronger than these pretensions, and the gospel has its own truth which ultimately cannot be denied.

"My biggest struggle, however, may surprise you. It is the struggle with being an American in the 21st century. I am deeply ashamed of our country right now. I am ashamed of the national discourse in the halls of power. I am ashamed of our tax and economic systems that disproportionately and unjustly reward those who already have the most power and money, and of people that want to cut off benefits for the common good or for the poor. And I am ashamed when at the same time we live in a country that has greater war-making capabilities than any country in the history of the world, which spends almost as much on its military might as the rest of the world combined. I am ashamed that the good people of our country cannot see this, or feel so helpless and powerless that they merely complain, and don't try to do anything about it. For me, this struggle has gotten so bad that frankly, I cringe when I hear people say God Bless America, like our president and all politicians do regularly, or when I'm at the ballgame and people stand and sing that song, when I feel we should be saying God HELP America. I'm sorry to be so blunt and I'm sorry if I offend you, but I want to tell you what I struggle with. In fact, I've become convinced that the only way I can live with this any longer is by trying much harder to do something about it, and that's a direction I hear God calling me toward."

More about this at another time. On Monday, I leave for Africa, to visit our sister parish in Namitembo, Malawi. Accompanying me will be 7 high school students from our parish, along with 4 other adults. I may create a post or two while there, if I can figure out how to do it.

A Short Economics Lesson

2011-06-16T14:38:00.000-07:00

I came across this two minute clip on U-Tube today, from MoveOn.org. Of course they have a political bias, but that's also something that could be said about virtually anybody who has an economic opinion. This one features former Secretary of Labor, Robert Reich. It is simple, and relies on statements of fact which I have heard before from other sources. If anyone out there disputes his facts, I'd love to hear from you.

WAKE UP, MIDDLE CLASS!!

Living Faith Behind Closed Doors??

2011-06-13T09:16:00.000-07:00

I LOVE Pentecost! And right now it's a perfect day; there's a blue sky and a mild, cooling breeze, there are red pennants waving around the church, so many of the people are wearing red themselves, the church is sweet with the lingering smell of incense, and the trumpeter is warming up for the next Mass.

We ARE the Church! Don't let the pope or bishops tell you differently, and don't let your faint heart protest!

I thoroughly enjoyed writing and giving this homily, and I believe it wholeheartedly.

Pentecost Sunday, June 12, 2011

Good morning, and a Blessed Pentecost to you today! Did you notice those red pennants outside, as you came in today? I hope it got you in a Pentecost mood. All those of you who wore red today, thank you! And the stirring music, the incense! It’s a wonderful feast; it’s meant to rouse our hearts. Is there anything not to love about Pentecost?

Well, actually, there is. There is something we should look at. Because before we get to hear the rush of Spirit as that wild, unexplainable wind blowing through the room where the disciples are gathered… before we get to feel the passion of the Spirit as fire parting and emblazoning its touch on every one of those gathered… before we join the apostles as they emerge from their gathering place, changed people, filled with spirit and enthusiasm so bold and contagious… we really need to confront the temptation of living behind the closed doors.

In the Gospel, when Jesus appears to the apostles for the first time, on Resurrection evening, those doors are even locked – bolted shut for fear of the Jews. In our First Reading, which takes place after the Ascension, they were again gathered in that same place, where they had been earnestly praying with Mary and others, for days; because even though they had all experienced the real presence of the living, resurrected Jesus, they gathered together, behind those closed doors, because they really had no idea what they were supposed to do next.

Probably everyone here can relate to that experience. Maybe we have never gone literally “into hiding,” behind locked doors, but we all know what it is like to be afraid. Some of us have even experienced what it is like to face a mortal threat. It might be when we are facing death; or, it might be when we are looking at evil, right up front and personal. Perhaps we most commonly experience fear when we’re facing the unknown, when we’re facing our inadequacies, our limitations, especially even our faults, and then sometimes we find ourselves ashamed of ourselves and are afraid others will find out. Fear is a common denominator of the human race, we’re all touched by it. With most of us, it might not be very obvious – but generally, fear is a fact woven into the tapestry of our lives. And how we deal with our fears plays a large part in the quality of our living.

It’s important to recognize that the apostles’ fear was rooted in solid realities. The world they were living in was a dangerous world: Jesus their Lord and Master had been crucified, and they were his closest followers. The Jewish hierarchy had just routed them; their Roman oppressors had demonstrated that they were not going to put up with civil disturbance. And of course, on tope of all that, they were still just common people…fishermen, and the like.

So we too also live in a dangerous world, in different ways of course. The same prejudice, greed, hatred, and cruelty that nailed Jesus to the cross are still very much a part of our modern scene. We live in a world that is violent; we live in a society that is materialistic and hedonistic, with a huge gap between the most wealthy and the rest of our citizens, that is growing ever larger. We here today at St. Bridget are largely fortunate to have found places of peace, and for many of us even prosperity in our jobs, our neighborhoods, our church.… but there are refugees all over the globe, fleeing violence, persecution, and poverty, a high percentage of them Christian. Internationally, there is economic, political, and religious unrest. Nations have armed themselves against nation, our own nation more than all the rest. And at level of daily life, every day it seems you read about a parent who does something awful to a child; or one spouse to another; or one young person to a random sampling of classmates. Danger in our world is not an illusion, nor is fear. Those disciples who sought safety and comfort by huddling together behind closed doors had good reason to be afraid, and sometimes so do we.

But the reason we celebrate today is because the story doesn’t end there, behind closed doors. Those frightened disciples were visited by the risen Christ, and with his help and the gift of the Holy Spirit they overcame their fears, no longer cowering but instead proclaiming the good news. The transformation is remarkable – the same people, in the same world. The dangers were still there and very real. But the fear was gone, or at least it was under control. They were controlling it, instead of it controlling them. What happened to change them?

It seems that there were two factors involved in overcoming those fears. The first was a change in their focus. Jesus said to them, “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” That put everything in a totally different light. Up to that point, their chief concern had been survival – and that’s why they were hiding. They were all afraid that the Jews would do to them what they had done to Jesus. And that possibility did exist and continued to exist – in fact, many of them eventually died a martyr’s death. But their fear no longer mattered; their focus had shifted.

My friends, if our main business in this life is our own personal survival and comfort, and that of those we love, then we have very good reason to be afraid, because we are hooked up with a losing cause -- that purpose is bound to fail! I hate to say that, but it’s true. We might spend a fortune trying to make everyone safe, walling out crime and violence, or poverty -- whatever terrors might trouble us. But if violence or accident or disease doesn’t get us, then old age will. There is a bigger and better reason for living than to simply stay alive and find our comforts where we can until we die… and Jesus offers that -- His Way, His Truth, and His Life -- to all of us…whatever our age; whether we’re healthy or not, or wealthy or not; and even though we are sinners. Jesus sends us forth just as he did the first apostles, “As the Father has sent me, so I send you,” sending us on a mission to spread his love by showing others his love, and THAT'S a mission worth living for and even dying for.

And secondly, of course, once their focus was changed, no longer fixed on their own lives, Jesus gave them the resources necessary for carrying out that mission. This is what we celebrate so lavishly today! Jesus breathed on them and said “Receive the Holy Spirit.” The wind and fire and electricity of the Holy Spirit came upon them all. And though the signs of the Spirit’s presence may not seem so dramatic today, that very same Spirit is given to us, with all its power, with all its many gifts. And we are STILL commissioned to do what Jesus asked, when he left this earth – to go and make disciples of all the peoples -- disciples who will help us renew the face of the earth.

You may say, this sounds like a daunting task. But my friends, WE ARE the CHURCH; so, we need to ACT like it. We must – because WE are entrusted with this sacred task of renewal, of spreading his love by showing his love. It is our time; it is our turn. And we don’t want to live our faith huddled behind closed doors.

We are not on this journey alone, by ourselves. God is with us; the Holy Spirit is given to us. And we have companions too, do we not? Should we not be able to work with our brothers and sisters, here and beyond these walls, to do whatever is necessary? And what’s even more, we are given food for the journey ahead – a most sacred meal which we will once again share this morning.

Deacon Denny Duffell

Fr. John Dear on Fr. Bill Bischel

2011-06-01T10:02:00.000-07:00

Just received John Dear's latest NCR article, on Fr. Bischel -- whom we affectionately know as Bix. Please do check out the whole article, HERE.

He quotes from Bix's letter:

I shuffle around the common area, and I thank God for being here and for the peace I experience. I am not anxious or overly concerned about anything… [I have] things wrong from head to toe, move slowly, tire easily, and take a half ton of pills to prolong breath and life [but] I'm blessed by the peace and quiet spirit inside. I'm not concerned about trying to be more than I am with the other inmates. I'm trying to let them see -- and not hide or disguise -- my lack of knowledge on so many things… I'm lucky to be here.

I know I'm getting weaker -- it takes all my strength and breath to make my bunk. I have to sit down a few times in the process. It takes all I have now to do one or two slow shuffles around the common area. I don't feel panicked or upset about my condition. I know I can keel over at any time, but I feel very much at peace with this condition and understand and accept it -- thankfully -- as part of my journey.

I don't have a regular prayer time now -- but I pray and try to be alert, i.e., at rest in the presence of God. I ask God to lead me as God sees fit. There is no anxiousness or compulsiveness or resolve to preach or hold prayer sessions or do any "religious actions" -- just be and shuffle around. There are four TVs which I avoid, with their steady diet of sex and violence. I am so thankful to feel at peace with my life. It's a gift from God and I do feel God working in and with me. I could be wrong, but this is what I experience.

And he also quotes from a note from Bix's friend, Joe Power-Drutis, who went back to Knoxville to be near him. It wasn't good:

I am not sure what I expected to encounter but what I did see was a broken and very hurting soul. Pale, frail, mildly shaky, complaining of being unable to hear because of fluid in his ears, dizziness and lightheadedness, pointing with his fingers that he is struggling to push the right numbers on the phone -- eyes glassed over, flat affect, and complaining that his gait is so poor, yet he has been commanded to "keep moving." He requested a wheelchair and was refused. He went on to tell me with tears in his eyes that he was placed in a cell and locked in there, with woefully inadequate bedding and clothing, for a week. He repeatedly asked guards for clothing and an extra blanket, and was laughed at and ignored. At some point after repeated requests, another inmate gave up his blanket to Bix.

Bix's medical problems create a lack of blood and oxygen to his hands and feet, leaving them white and ice cold when his overall body temperature falls. Following this, his hands and feet are filled with pain, like being jabbed repeatedly with needles. He spoke of the never-ending pain, which leads to sleep deprivation, insomnia, disassociation and hallucinations.

Bix was certainly aware of what he was doing when he walked onto the base at Bangor and across the blue line at Y-12. For these acts he is ready to remain in prison and pay the ultimate price. But this in no way permits this system of criminal injustice to do what it has done to him. The unjust and unlawful acts perpetrated on him are tantamount to torture.

Bix is now better; but his situation remains serious. When this term finishes later this month, he faces sentencing for another action, that could bring 6-12 months more.

The Progressive Caucus, Again: Standing Up for Medicare

2011-05-26T01:01:00.000-07:00

I just watched a really inspiring video today, put together by the Progressive Caucus of the U.S. House. It was one Representative after another in the House, standing up to denounce the Ryan-Republican budget, before the House Republicans cut off debate. Very simple, but very forceful and direct. I realized that there are at least some people in the public domain that will pick up the cry for the elderly and vulnerable. There may be ways to reform Medicare, but it seems to me that turning it over to the private insurance industry is madness.

Rest In Peace, Good Frank

2011-05-25T16:21:00.000-07:00

I just received word that Fr. Frank Loughran died today. Frank was a Montfort priest who gave over 65 years of his life to our friends in Malawi, many of it with our sister parish of Namitembo. He was 93 years old when he finally was no longer able to minister every day. I had the exquisitely beautiful and sacred opportunity to help him say his daily Mass (privately), when I visited Namitembo a year ago.

He wanted to die in Malawi, where he had given most of his life. This picture is from a visit we made in 2004.

He was more than ready to go, and I know he'll look out for those for whom he gave his life.

John Dear on Nonviolence

2011-05-21T00:00:00.000-07:00

A few years ago I became very interested in the Sisters of St. Joseph of Peace, probably on a retreat day at their Peace and Spirituality Center over in Bellevue. I have actually worked closely with two CSJPs during my years in ministry, and enjoyed working with others as colleagues. I've always been impressed with their energy and their loving spirit, which often came with a playfulness that could be disarmingly pleasing. I became one of the supporters of the Center, and I receive their biannual publication, Living Peace. I get a zillion magazines and sometimes get pretty far behind in my reading, but this issue did catch my eye, especially when I saw John Dear's name on the cover, pointing me to an article on page 8. However, once I opened the magazine, I was hooked, and avidly read the whole edition. It was well-thought out, varied, timely, and inspiring. You can read it on-line if you wish, by using the link on this page: HERE.

John Dear's interview was excellent. I so enjoy him as a writer, and follow his blog on the National Catholic Reporter regularly. I didn't realize this until recently, but he was the one who wrote the "vow of nonviolence" a few years ago, and I wore a copy of that one out, carrying it in my wallet. In the article, Dear is quoted as saying this, about public action for peace:

Public action is also helpful. Oddly enough, if you don't join the movement, you end up sitting back and watching the bombs fall on CNN. You'll give up and give in to despair. But if you join a public vigil, or get involved in your local peace group, or volunteer at that nearby shelter for the homeless, or cross the line and get arrested in a protest, actually that generates hope and keeps you going. These actions provide opportunities for you to deepen your personal nonviolence.

Strong words...and yet, I find them motivating and refreshing.

He also says this about how to nurture a desire to grow in non-violence: "There are a lot of things that I do, and that I've learned personally from peacemakers and from reading the saints. And that would include daily, quiet meditation and reading the gospel every day and participating in the sacraments....I don't think it can be done without a daily, formal check-in time with the God of Peace."

Ah, John... That's indeed a prescription for the soul that truly longs for peace!

And there's another nugget, an important "how-to" clue...

"You also need community, and that can mean all kinds of things, but ideally a group of people who share your values, and with whom you can open us and share your values and joys and pain and brokenness."

What a delightful reminder! I do feel that I've gotten very well connected in the last 2 years with small groups of believers who are prayerful, who have taken time with one another, and who both share values and share about their values, values which are strongly flavored with the love of both justice and mercy. These groups vary in number, composition, and frequency of meeting, and yet the spirit of community that each enjoys within itself is genuinely nourishing for the members, in some cases very profoundly so.

Read the article at the above link, or you can also go to the full interview, HERE.. Let me know what you think.

Joining Peter and the Three Thousand

2011-05-16T10:33:00.000-07:00

This homily was difficult to write. So many things went into it, that have been in my thoughts and prayer. One was my friend, Fr. Bill Bichsel, about whom I've written before. Bix is over 80 years old, frail, and in prison in Tennesee, where he was transferred from Puget Sound in order to stand for trial back there. Bix, along with others, has been engaged in non-violent civil disobedience in resistence to nuclear arms. He is not being treated well, and may die in prison.

During this time I was also spending some challenging time pondering my own life, because of our Engaging Spirituality's closing Commissioning retreat, also this past weekend. I was asked to write a "Bearings" letter to the group, on "my struggles, practice, and challenge."

That's something of the background to this homily -- what was going on inside of me.

Fourth Sunday of Easter, A, 2011

Good morning. It’s a pleasure to be here with you, to open up a really beautiful scripture. I’m talking about our First Reading, the one from the Acts of the Apostles. Next to the gospels, Acts is absolutely my favorite book in the whole Bible. It tells the story of the earliest history of the Church, and it’s full of the enthusiasm of the early Christians and their bold proclamation of Jesus Christ, the Risen One. We see a frightened, uncomprehending band of followers turn into courageous evangelizers as the Holy Spirit moves within them.

In fact, today’s passage takes place immediately after the Holy Spirit comes upon them in that upper room. The apostles are led out into the streets of Jerusalem, where Peter boldly confronts the crowds: “You who are Israelites, hear these words! Jesus of Nazareth was a man commended to you by with mighty deeds, wonders, and signs, which God worked through him in your midst, as you yourselves know! This man you killed, using lawless men to crucify him. But God raised him up, for it was impossible for him to be held down by the power of death.”

And that passage, Peter’s courageous address to the crowds about Jesus, concludes with the beginning of today’s reading: “Let the whole house of Israel know for certain that God has made both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified!” And by the end of the reading today we see that the power of the Spirit within Peter and the others moves 3000 people to be baptized that very day. Three thousand! What an amazing turnaround we see here! What a testimony to their new-found enthusiasm, that power of the Spirit within them! I wish we all had that enthusiasm and willingness to proclaim our faith to the world! This parish, this whole Church in Western Washington would be very different.

But I would like to point out for you something in this passage that is easy to pass over, when we focus on that wonderful enthusiasm. Notice that Peter first accused the crowd of crucifying Jesus. And … many in the crowd apparently accepted the charge, asking them, “What then are we to do, brothers?” And Peter gave them the answer, “Repent, and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ, for the forgiveness of your sins; and you will then receive the power of the Holy Spirit. Save yourselves from this corrupt generation.”

Now, I think it is unlikely that Caiaphus was in the crowd that Peter addressed that day. It is unlikely that Annas, or the other chief priests of the people were part of the crowd. And THOSE leaders were the ones responsible for handing Jesus over to the Romans. THEY arrested Jesus, THEY tried him, THEY handed him over and asked for his crucifixion. And yet, 3000 of those in the crowd accepted responsibility for the accusation Peter made against them … and repented … and went on to be baptized for the forgiveness of their sins. What is this?

You see, the Jewish people at the time of Jesus, and actually even for centuries before his time, had an understanding of themselves as a people of God. God’s covenant was with the people, as a whole, not with the leaders. And along with this came a clear understanding that the people as a whole could bear a collective guilt for the sins of the nation, even though it might be the evil and corruption of their leaders that led to the nation’s sins. The people knew the meaning of social sin, and it was reinforced repeatedly through the prophets and the scriptures; and the whole people were accountable for social sin. In fact, even if you fought against that sin and corruption, you shared in it – even the prophets knew themselves to be a part of it. If we understand this, it is no surprise to see it reflected in our reading today. Thus the people of Jerusalem repented, and came forward for the baptism that Peter offered to them in the name of Jesus Christ, for release from their sin -- and that simultaneously opened their hearts for the forgiveness of all their private sins as well. I’m not making this up.

Now…let’s take that concept…and fast-forward 2000 years. And let’s ask the question, “Where is Jesus Christ being crucified today, in our world, in May of 2011?”

Do you NOT think that Jesus is being crucified again today? Don’t we all know in our hearts that he is? Jesus identified with the poor, the lame, the outcast, the prisoner, the alien. When they suffered, he suffered. And when he died, an innocent victim, for our sins, he died also in solidarity with those innocents who suffer in every time and every place.

In our own land, in this year, we are on the verge of witnessing a great public crucifixion. I wish such a thing were new; it is not. Innocent victims of war, especially children, have always suffered the most in any war, and largely in silence. Innocent unborn children have been sacrificed on the altar of private choice in our country for over a generation now. You can find the homeless every day on the streets of Seattle, not just veterans and alcoholics, but women, teenage children, some who have to sell themselves to survive. But now, in our land, we are part of a historic public debate that is really about the kind of people we will be. Will we balance our budgets by turning our backs on the poor? Are our own private tax breaks more important than feeding the hungry and caring for our elderly? Do we want a society where those who have the most wealth and power will continue to amass more wealth and power, while those who have little find that the little they have is taken from them? Is having a military force whose annual cost is almost as much as the cost for all the other armies and navies and planes and bombs and soldiers and guns in all the rest of the world – is buying THAT FORCE more important than caring for our neighbor?

We are on the verge of a great public crucifixion. That is my word, crucifixion, but our bishops are saying the same thing. They aren’t so blunt, and I’m sorry if these words sting, but we’re not just witnesses to this crucifixion, we’re parties to it! And what we desperately need right now is a Peter, no longer timid but alive in the experience of the Risen Lord and bold with the new power of the Holy Spirit, a Peter who will say to us, “People of America! You are putting to death the Holy One, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ!” For whatever you do to the least of my brothers and sisters, that you do unto me.

But a Peter not all we need. We need as a people to be able to hear those words being addressed to us. The people of Israel could understand social sin and collective guilt. And because they could, they could repent, and it brought them salvation from all their sins.

They could have said, “We aren’t the ones who put Jesus to death. It was the Romans. It was our leaders. It was the mob. I didn’t do it, so go preach to somebody else.” And so it is with us. We can say it’s someone else’s sin. “It’s the Republicans, it’s the Democrats; it was the previous Administration. It’s someone else’s problem, my taxes are high enough already, I have enough troubles paying my own bills.” And you know, it is no coincidence that when we deny complicity in social sin, our conscience becomes a wishy-washy rubber stamp for all sin, including our private ones, which we soon fail to recognize any more.

Maybe we don’t want Peter’s charge to apply to us. “Whoa! Gee, Denny, that’s one heck of a downer message!” Well happily, there’s another choice offered in our story today. You see, we can go back and JOIN Peter and the other disciples. We can look deeply within ourselves and rediscover the power of the Risen Jesus Christ in our lives, a power than can enable us to live without fear, of death or anything else, just like they did. We can draw on the power of the Holy Spirit, bestowed upon us in Confirmation, and publicly proclaim our faith, boldly in word and deed, just like they did. And if all of us here did that… as I said earlier, this parish, this whole Church in Western Washington would become transformed! And maybe, just maybe, it would change the terms of our state and national conversations, so that we might really become the great people we want to believe we are.

Deacon Denny Duffell, May 15, 2011

On Osama bin Laden

2011-05-05T16:48:00.000-07:00

I was surprised at hearing of the military operation that cornered and killed bin Laden. I wasn't happy... I wouldn't feel right about rejoicing at someone's death. I guess you could say, though, that I was relieved it was over. But my biggest reaction was anger...anger over 10 years of war and untold other deaths, especially by the children who always die as "collateral damage" because of any war. All justified in retaliation for the actions of this man and his followers.

I was intrigued to finally read the Vatican response on Vatican radio, through Press Office Director Fr Federico Lombardi, in response to journalists’ questions on the killing of Osama:
"Osama bin Laden - as we all know – was gravely responsible for promoting division and hatred between peoples, causing the death of countless innocent lives, and of exploiting religions to this end.
Faced with the death of a man, a Christian never rejoices, but reflects on the serious responsibility of each and every one of us before God and before man, and hopes and commits himself so that no event be an opportunity for further growth of hatred, but for peace."

The statement didn't say much, other than saying that Christians don't rejoice at anyone's death. Other than that, it offered a personalist response, nothing more.

Contrast that with the statement from Fr. John Dear, writing on bin Laden's death for the National Catholic Reporter:
"President Obama closed his Sunday night speech announcing the murder of Osama bin Laden by invoking God and God’s blessing. Do not believe him. God does not bless war or warmakers. If we want God’s blessing, we have to become peacemakers. We have to end our wars, dismantle our weapons, renounce state terrorism, and develop a new nonviolent foreign policy that reflects universal love and true justice for the world’s poor.
"When we decide that retaliatory violence and war do not work, and finally take up the wisdom of the Sermon on the Mount, then the God of peace will bless us. Until then, we will remain stuck in the downward spiral of violence and war."

I know which statement speaks to me more powerfully of the spirit of Jesus Christ.

Engaging Spirituality -- from JustFaith

2011-04-30T10:47:00.000-07:00

I believe that one of the frequent occupational hazards of ministry is you find yourself praying with others so often that you can frequently fail to take the personal time in prayer that you need.

Engaging Spirituality, from JustFaith ministries, is a good program for anyone who wants to "go deeper" in prayer, and that includes the professional minister. We've offered ES this year at St. Bridget, and we will probably offer it again this fall. It needs some tweaking...the team met this week to plan the final retreat, and we got to talking about the overall program, and we see things that should be done differently. No doubt JustFaith ministries will make some changes from the top, too.

But it gives ample time, ample quiet, the opportunity for community, and solid materials for reflection (good books, journaling, a couple of good videos, and personal input from diverse spiritual leaders). The program materials are easy for the facilitators to use (once you get started, that is; at first they're confusing). I hope to be more involved with it next year than I could be this year (the team held the gatherings on the same night that I had set aside for the regular JustFaith program).

This short video link offers a tiny insight to the program. Check it out!

US Catholic Bishops Weigh in on US Budget

2011-04-27T14:28:00.000-07:00

I follow several religious "lobbying" efforts, including the Catholic Campaign Against Global Poverty, Network, Bread for the World, and Sojourners. Now that the 2010-2011 budget is settled, the arguments for the new year have begun, jump-started by Representative Ryan's Republican proposal. According to its author, it was an attempt to deal with the federal deficit. However, his version of the budget budget drew very clear lines, as his plan savages services to the poor while adding more tax cuts for the very wealthy, and continuing insane levels of support for our military.

The US Catholic Bishops have finally weighed in on the issue (to see their entire letter, check HERE). First of all, they wish to be clear...they "write as pastors and teachers, not experts or partisans." They also "clearly acknowledge the difficulties that the Congress, Administration, and government at all levels face to get our financial house in order: fulfilling the demands of justice and moral obligations to future generations; controlling future debt and deficits,; and protecting the lives and dignity of those who are poor and vulnerable." That said, they offer several "moral criteria" to help guide difficult budgetary decisions:

1.) Every budget decision should be assessed by whether it protects or threatens human life and dignity.

2.) A central moral measure of any budget proposal is how it affects "the least of these" (Matthew 25). The needs of those who are hungry and homeless, without work, or in poverty should come first.

3.) Government and other institutions have a shared responsibility to promote the common good of all, expecially ordinary workers and families who struggle to live in dignity in difficult economic times.

They continue..."A just framework for future budgets cannot rely on disproportionate cuts in essential services to poor persons. It requires shared sacrifice by all, including raising adaquate revenues, eliminating unnecessary military and other spending, and addressing the long-term costs of health insurance and retirement programs fairly."

Under health care, they also worry that "some proposed changes to Medicare and Medicaid could leave more elderly and poor people without the assurance of adaquaate and affordable health care. Medicaid block grants may offer states more flexibility, but could leave states with inadequate resources as costs grow or more people need health care in fugure recessions."

They also warn that the House Resolution appears to "cut foreign operations budget by more than a third...We strongly support poverty-based international assistance. They end by observing that "the moral measure of this budget debate is not which party wins or which powerful interests prevail, but rather how those who are jobless, hungry homeless, or poor are treated. Their voices are too often missing in these debates"...

It was too long a time coming, but I am glad that the Church finally found its voice on the budget. I for one HATE paying taxes because so much of it goes to the military. However, I strongly support programs that build a better future for the world here and abroad, especially by targeting those who need resources the most. For that, I'd be willing to pay more in taxes.

Death Without Regrets

2011-04-23T18:16:00.000-07:00

Like my last homily, I thought about this one a long while. In fact, I thought about this one for over a year. Last year, during our parish Lenten retreat, I had the good fortune to listen to Fr. Jim Jepsen, who gave a masterful retreat. On the middle day, he spoke about the Passion, and at the beginning he raised the question, "Why did Jesus have to be crucified?" I was immediately hooked, but the answer was direct and simple. It wasn't a lofty Redemption theology, or something barely believable about how "our human sin against God required a divine sacrifice." It was simple: Jesus had to be crucified because he would not crucify others.

In other words, Jesus loved. He reached out to the humble, the poor, the outcast, the sinner. He spoke the truth to the powerful, and to the people who SHOULD have represented Yahweh's love more faithfully. And he would not back down from that mission. And yet, when it became obvious that reactionary violence was about to strike, and many of his followers were all too ready to react to that violence with their own violence... he had no choice but to proclaim love, forgiveness, and peace, all the way to the cross.

No regrets.

Good Friday, 2011

I want to thank each of you for being here this evening. These three nights of the Triduum … each is so very different, each in its own different way is so beautiful, and each in its own beautiful way speaks to powerfully to the heart of our faith, that I regret that any Christian misses any of it.

Tonight we are gathered to hear once again the sacred Story of Jesus love and sacrifice for us, to lovingly honor this sacred symbol of His love and sacrifice, and then to share our Holy Communion as ONE BODY in His Body, to strengthen us so that we in turn may go on to offer our lives for others as he did, even if it involves giving our own lives.

I believe that one of the most important questions of our faith journey is posed here in this story: Why does Jesus have to suffer? One of the most important functions of some of our devotions – the Stations of the Cross, the sorrowful mysteries of the rosary – is to bring us to face this suffering and death of Jesus. Some of our most ancient and evocative Christian art portrays this, forces us to face this directly. And it is not only Jesus’ suffering we face, it is also ALL the senseless suffering that the innocents of the world endure. This past week I read a beautiful reflection piece written by Bishop Kicanas of Tucson for Good Friday. He spoke about the Good Friday experience that Tucson went through this January 8th, when a madman gunned down 19 people in 16 seconds, critically wounding a US Representative and killing six, including a federal judge of deep faith and a little girl of 9 years. He compared the heartache of his community with the heartache felt by Mary, Jesus’ mother, by Mary Magdalene, by John at the foot of the cross, as they watched the most innocent of all men suffer. These all help us understand the cry, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

WHY? indeed.

I cannot answer why all the innocents of the world suffer. I know that we all will die one day, and that is our human condition. But I do not know why my life should be so lucky: well-fed, when so many subsistence farmers depend on the right rainfall in order to eat at all; healthy, when 3rd world children die from diarrhea because of the lack of clean drinking water; or sleeping in a warm bed under a secure roof, when so many are homeless on our own Seattle streets. I cannot answer the questions of why all the innocent suffer; but I can say that in each of the cases I just mentioned, those innocent surely suffer because of the collective sin of the world. We do NOT really live in solidarity with our own brothers and sisters who suffer hunger or die from preventable causes, or have no safe place to lay their heads at night. There is enough food in the world, enough wealth; but there is too little will. There are plenty of homes for the homeless in Seattle, but we’re all too afraid to share our own homes with them.

Sin causes much suffering. It’s obvious to see sin as a cause of suffering when people deliberately hurt others, like a madman on the loose or when someone is brutalized, because it’s personal; but it’s also obvious that sin is a cause of suffering even when it’s not personal, but collective. This is sin too. This is also Good Friday. And if you don’t believe that, you can’t really understand why Jesus died on the cross 2000 years ago. Jesus gave his life serving the poor, the lowly, the outcast, and inviting us to join him in service. His life of service, his confrontations with the powerful, & His witness to the Truth led directly to the cross. Jesus had foretold his suffering and death, and He went to Jerusalem deliberately. And he had no regrets, not even on the cross.

John’s gospel story is the one we listen to every Good Friday. It is different from Matthew, Mark, and Luke -- John is trying to tell us something that the others didn’t.

The three synoptic writers all present the awful sufferings of Jesus, and the reactions of the crowd, and details that John doesn’t mention, such as the account of the Agony in the Garden, or of Jesus crying out in desperation on the cross. Of all the gospel writers, John was the only eye-witness of the Passion. And he presents for us a Jesus who died horribly; but more so than any of the others, John tells us of the great dignity and calm of Jesus in spite of this suffering.

It begins in the garden, with his arrest, when there is no mention of a betraying kiss, but we see a Jesus who steps forward to the mob to ask whom they’re looking for, and when he tells them I AM, they step back and fall to the ground. We see this dignity in His interrogation by the high priest, and when he calmly confronts the guard, saying “If I have spoken rightly, why do you strike me?” It continues in his conversation with Pilate, when Jesus speaks forthrightly of his mission: to testify to the truth, that everyone who belongs to the truth listens to his voice. Pilate does not want to deal with Jesus, who is clearly no ordinary prisoner, and though Pilate eventually gives him up to the crowd, his wrangling with the crowd is far more detailed and prolonged than in all the other accounts…because Pilate is afraid.

And it continues at the cross. Only in John do we see Jesus’ tenderness and concern for his mother, who is right at the foot of the cross at the end. And finally, when Jesus dies, it is not with a cry or a shout, but with the words, “It is finished.” John does not even say that Jesus dies… rather, Jesus bows his head, and gives up his Spirit.

Bishop Kicanas said more about this in his Good Friday reflection. He spoke about a 12th century sculpture of the Crucified Christ, in the Cathedral of St. Augustine in Tucson. He said of this sculpture, “Whenever I look at His face, captured by the artist in the first moment after His death, I see His response to violence, suffering, and death. I see His response to our sinfulness.”

I tell you, I had a hard time tracking it down, but I finally found images of that sculpture. Like our own central cross, it is a large wooden crucifix, though the one in Phoenix is far more emotive, and displays not only the suffering Jesus went through, but a face full of expression. As the bishop puts it, “On His face there is no twisted grimace of suffering. Instead, there is love, there is peace, and strange as it might sound, there is contentment. His is the face of someone who had no regrets.”

Jesus’ crucifixion on the cross, as horrible as it was, was Jesus’ GIFT to us. By this cross, Jesus shows us the great depths of his love. By this cross, he show us that it is possible to live a life for others, to live God’s truth and carry that life to its fulfillment, even if it upsets and provokes the powerful. By this cross, he shows us that we can face our own crosses with calm and trust. By this cross, we can find hope and strength, when our suffering or the sufferings around us seem too much to bear.

“This is the Wood of the Cross, on which hung the Savior of the world. Come, let us worship.”
[Leads immediately to Veneration of the Cross]
Deacon Denny Duffell, April 22, 2011

A Passion Song

2011-04-20T10:38:00.000-07:00

At our Palm Sunday Masses this past weekend, our pastor and Music Director had arranged a beautiful, touching surprise for the assembly at Mass. After the reading of the Passion, and a few words from Fr. Tim, we were all invited to spend some quiet time in reflection on the Passion. After a few moments, this beautiful, meditative song was sung for us all by one of our choir members, Mariko Kita, who has a lovely, clear, emotive voice: How Deep the Father's Love for Us. I had never heard the song before, and because my hearing is faulty, I couldn't quite catch all the words. While the following rendition is not quite as good as hers, the accompanying video (from the Passion of the Christ) helps bring the words to life.

It makes for a good meditation in Holy Week -- or anytime.

How Deep the Father’s Love for Us

How deep the Father's love for us,
How vast beyond all measure
That He should give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure

How great the pain of searing loss,
The Father turns His face away
As wounds which mar the chosen One,
Bring many sons to glory

Behold the Man upon a cross,
My sin upon His shoulders
Ashamed I hear my mocking voice,
Call out among the scoffers

It was my sin that held Him there
Until it was accomplished
His dying breath has brought me life
I know that it is finished

I will not boast in anything
No gifts, no power, no wisdom
But I will boast in Jesus Christ
His death and resurrection

Why should I gain from His reward?
I cannot give an answer
But this I know with all my heart
His wounds have paid my ransom

Is America Addicted to War?

2011-04-18T14:58:00.000-07:00

I posted a few days ago about an excellent article in America magazine, entitled World Without War, written by Bishop Robert McElroy, the auxiliary bishop of San Francisco. (Unfortunately, this might ensure that he’ll never be anything but an auxiliary…) It was an excellent article, and I wish I could have reprinted it, or at least given a link to it, but America doesn’t allow that. At the time, I also mentioned a second article, not from a religious source, that I posted on my Facebook page, entitled Is America Addicted to War? (In my mind, there’s NO DOUBT that the answer to that is a sad but resounding YES.) The article mentions five reasons that contribute to that “addiction.” Please check out the original article, HERE. Here are the reasons, plus my comments:

1. Because we can.
2. The U.S. has no serious enemies.
3. The all-volunteer force.
4. It’s the Establishment, stupid.
5. Congress has checked out.

Because We Can… An obvious reason why we keep lurching into armed conflicts is because we have an extremely well-funded military, and we’ve got to keep them busy. What would they do if we didn’t? That’s actually a scary scenario to contemplate, but rather than think about that, just consider that we do get into conflicts like Liberia because we’ve got all this hardware and manpower just waiting around, itching to actually do something. It’s like the old government budget canard about spending your budget before the end of the fiscal year, even if you don’t need to … otherwise they’ll figure you don’t need it and you’ll get cut. The American people might begin to wonder why we need this gigantic expense if we didn’t really show how useful it is…

The U.S. Has No Serious Enemies… Well, of course we can’t just go invade Russia or China. However, our “sphere of influence” has expanded considerably since the rest of the world realized they’d go bankrupt trying to maintain an arms race with us. Nobody but the U.S. has anywhere near the resources devoted to the military that we do. Nor has anybody else in history, ourselves included.

The All-Volunteer Force… Actually, “volunteer” is a bad misnomer. It makes it sound like our forces are doing this out of a sense of altruism, and getting no monetary compensation in return. Isn’t that our understanding of the word “volunteer”? Actually, we should label this one as “Our Professional Military.” These folks are paid for their services – not as well as our bankers, of course, but they are paid nonetheless. They are NOT “volunteers” in the usual way we understand the term.

By this I mean no disrespect to the men and women, and their families, who serve in our military. I have parishioners who have served recently in Iraq and Afghanistan, and I have a nephew and his family who are “lifers” in the military. I respect them very much for their dedication. In many cases people in military actually put their lives on the line, and most of them serve out of great love for our country.

Nonetheless, they are not “volunteers.” There is a real monetary cost for their service. Now, if that service were provided by “draftees,” there would certainly be a much greater social cost involved. It would cause us to look a lot harder at the size and cost of our military, and the uses we make of it. This would be a good thing -- our government would have to be more accountable for its actions. It would be required to develop convincing rationales for our military actions that our citizenry would accept and support. As for now… most of our populace, and especially most of our leaders, personally have very little “at stake” in the sacrifice offered by those in the military. So, when we talk about the war in Iraq or Afghanistan, or our action in Libyaa, the discussion is very academic.

It’s the Establishment, Stupid… Having such a large and expensive military necessarily means that we have a lot of people with a LOT at stake in defending it and in developing ways for us to use it. There are a lot of people whose livelihood depends on it, and here I’m not talking about the soldiers, but the people in the CIA, the military contractors…jobs, in so very many political districts! And thus “bringing home the bacon” gets wrapped in a gaudy patriotism that gets politicians reelected. Actually, shouldn’t we start with the assumption that we should be trying to build a more peaceful world, rather than just juicing up our own abilities to be the biggest and strongest nation around?

Congress Has Checked Out… Has no one noticed that despite spending far more on our military more than the #2 nation (China -- four or five times as much) and almost as much as the rest of the world combined… that in the recent Budget negotiations, there was almost no discussion on reducing the amount of money we spend on our military? WHY NOT? Our representatives – Republicans and Democrats both – are afraid to appear soft. They are afraid to be the first to say, enough! And likewise, they do little to check the Executive Branch in its military adventures. When will they ask why Afghanistan is the longest war in American history, and begin to ask hard questions? (Such as: What are our aims? What is our plan? When will it be over?) Congress fails to ask these questions because the people in Congress are more afraid of being questioned about it when they have to run again. But those questions are important. These things should be discussed, debated! And they should all be held accountable for the results.

This is obviously a subject I have a lot of passion about.

Homily on the Raising of Lazarus

2011-04-10T17:09:00.000-07:00

This was one of those homilies that I thought about a very long time...probably a month. I had the basic idea, and then got another to add to it. Of course, I didn't actually write it until "Saturday afternoon" before the evening Mass, like always. But the passion for the homily was there for a long time.

Fr. Tim kidded me afterwards: "Now I'll have to re-write my Easter homily -- you gave it for me." Wasn't sure what he meant, but I think it was a compliment.

Fifth Sunday of Lent (A), April 10, 2011

All of our readings today are about death! Death is a part of life. It’s not a pleasant subject; we may not like to think about it. But death is not only an inevitability someday, it’s also a constant reality in our everyday lives. We see it in the cycles of nature: living organisms die all the time, and provide the nutrients for new life. Even within our very own bodies, old cells are constantly dying – and being replaced by new ones. I had a skin cancer removed three weeks ago, it was here in my ear, and went deeper than they thought. They even had to do a skin graft. But here, behind my ear, and inside, there are new cells, filling in – it’s almost fully healed now. It's like a miracle. Capitalists even talk these days about the wonders of "creative destruction" going on in our economy. I’m not sure I like calling it creative, as it hides the fact that real people get hurt during that creative destruction... but it happens.

And of course, we do talk about death. We talk about dead spots on our lawn, or a dead spot in our schedule, or maybe a meeting we were forced to endure which was “Just Dead!” It might be our self-confidence that died... last Thursday night was my bowling night, and I’m our team’s anchor man, the go-to guy when the game is on the line. I needed a strike in the last frame, or even just a spare. I threw a good ball, and felt great! But I left a stupid ten-pin! So, I had to pick the spare. You know, I usually love that situation, the game on the line... but my confidence suddenly went dead, and I missed the spare. Teams go dead too – talk about the Mariners giving up 10 runs in the 4th inning at their home opener on Friday night! Liz and I go to a lot of games together, and we almost never leave a baseball game early. But we left that one after the 4th inning.

And death can be very intimate too, death can really be INSIDE of us; our lives can have dead places in them. These dead places can develop in our relationships – in friendships, or in marriages. One of the great sadnesses that I sometimes witness at Children’s Hospital is with a young married couple who suffer the death of a child... and then, weeks or months later, their marriage breaks apart. Fr. Tim and I have shared with one another over the past few months how affected we both have been – how sad... because of the marriages that have “died” within our parish community in the past couple of years. And within us as individuals, too, there can be dead places. Depression, fear, grief, or guilt can all be so powerful that we feel utterly lifeless, it strikes our sense of the meaning, right at our center, our core, even our faith – life feels very “dead.” And for any of us, dead places can occur spiritually. We can have a numbness within that deadens us to the awareness of how much we really need God. We can grow a coldness of heart that pushes the needs of our neighbor away to the edges of our awareness.

These dead places in our lives are truly MORE threatening than physical death itself. These dead places not only prevent us from experiencing the fullness of happiness, they keep us from becoming the luminous beings we are made to be. They cause us to shrink back from acting with courage and faith-filled confidence in this darkened world. These dead places numb us, isolate us from the needs of the world around us, and blind us to a vision of God’s creation as it is meant to be.

Where are YOUR dead places? That’s a good Lenten reflection! Where in your life, or in your heart, has LIFE been lost? Are your faith, your hope, your love buried in some tomb? It happens. It happens to sinners; but it has happened to saints too.

But though our scriptures today speak to us about death, the words are also full of life. Our first Reading is thrilling! In fact, take your Bible and read the words from Ezekial, Chapter 36 through today’s passage – it’s about a page. It was written during the time of captivity, when all seemed dark, when the country was conquered, the holy Temple razed to the ground, the leaders of the people carried away in chains. But Ezekial hears the word of God that God will open their graves, that the bones of the dead will rise. And Ezekial has a vision, and hears a noise, a rattling, as the bones come together, sinews and flesh covering them, breath coming into them, and the raised dead stand on their feet, a vast multitude! It was an unforgettable, prophetic image, for God to tell the people that hope was not lost.

And our gospel today is poignant. When Jesus finally arrived in Bethany, Martha chided him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” Jesus said, “Your brother will rise again.” Martha replied, “I know he will rise again, in the Resurrection on the Last Day.” That’s a very respectful way of saying, “Don’t tell me that ‘He’ll rise someday’ garbage. Where were you? My brother is dead!” But Jesus then made resurrection a present-tense reality by calling Lazarus out of the tomb. “Unbind him, and let him go free!”

I think that the greatest Easter truth for us in our lives today is not that we are to live newly after death. Of course that is great news, and it brings hope and comfort, especially at our most difficult times. But it also means that we are able to live newly here and now, by the power of the Resurrection. Resurrection is not just “everlasting life” – meaning, an endless quantity of life. Resurrection is also a quality of life that begins in the present. And it begins when we realize that, in Christ, death has no power over us.

I’m 63 years old. Some might credit me with a faithful life, but I know myself. I know ways in which I’ve failed to be the person I could be -- when dead places, and the fears of different kinds of death have held me back from being the man I could be. But hey, I am 63 years old, and I am think that I am finally beginning to understand what the words mean: “Unbind him, and let him go free!” I have to tell you, I am FULL of hope for the future, for whatever it is God has in store for me.

Think of the dead places in your own life. There may have been dark days of suffering. A menacing difficulty without a solution. A loss that tore your heart out. The terrain of our lives is full of dead places. If we have lived long at all, we have lived through many deaths.

By what power, then, are we all still here? How have we survived so much dying? And beyond mere surviving, how might it be that we may have actually grown through these experiences? It is NOT through our own abilities. It is through the grace and power of the One who transforms death into life.

As you meet the Lord today in our Eucharist…know that He comes as “the Resurrection and the Life.” Trust him. He wants to call forth life from all the dead places.

Deacon Denny Duffell

WAR -- An Evil Incarnate?

2011-04-09T11:12:00.000-07:00

I might almost have reached the stage of my life when I can speak what I believe, without fear. That statement is prompted by this weekend's scripture on the Raising of Lazarus! I haven't written my homily yet, but it's fermenting...

Today's post is about two articles that I have recently read, that I believe are timely and true. They don't say anything that I haven't already thought, but they've moved me to "another place," in that their words have reverberated within me -- and now, I have to decide what to do with that.

The first article, the one I read first and which I highlight here, is from the 2/31/11 edition of America magazine, published under the auspices of the U.S. Jesuits, and writen by the auxiliary bishop of San Francisco, the Most Reverend Robert W. McElroy. This is a timely and -- to me -- EXHILARATING article. It is entitled, "War Without End." The article begins with the war in Afghanistan, which (he observes) is the longest war in American history. The bishop declares that "for this reason alone... there should be a public debate that does not proceed from a blind commitment to 'stay the course.'"

Bishop McElroy then observes that "The United States has now achieved the capacity to wage major warfare over many years without greatly burdening its economy or its general citizenry." And because of this, he warns of the danger that "major warfare has become not an exceptional necessity but an ongoing way of life." True, a lot of people would take exception to the "burdening its economy" part of that, with the annual costs of our engagement in Iraq and Afghanistan over $100 billion! But that's not even part of the current budget debate, so let's grant that the statement has truth. Here are the three factors he cites, which have made this possible:

1) The sheer immensity of the American economy and its ability to float credit, which has made the costs of major wars like Afghanistan and Iraq a relatively small blip in overall government expenditures;

2) The creation of instruments of war through modern technology that minimize American casualties in warfare and greatly enhance American tactical superiority; and

3) The existence of a professional army, which limits the layers of American society that absorb the terrible trauma of casualties in war, in contrast to a general draft like that utilized in prior wars.

Bishop McElroy calls this situation no less than a "moral hazard for the politcal leadership to resort to force in the knowledge that civil society will not be deeply disturbed." (He wrote those words before the Lybian engagement.) This moral hazard is "compounded by a new idealistic tendency to cast war aims in transformational terms."

The article goes on to observe that NOWHERE in our just war tradition do you find any justification for this. Indeed, he identifies and highlights four statements of principle in his article:

1) Catholic doctrine does not permit war (or force of arms) to democratize other countries. (Principle of Just or Sufficient Cause)

2) Catholic doctrine does not permit the continuation of warfare in order to avoid the damage that will come to one's reputation from defeat. (Principle of Right Intention)

3) Catholic doctrine does not permit the use of weapons and tactics that eviscerate the distinction between combatants and civilians. (Principle of Non-Discrimination)

4) Catholic doctrine does not permit continuation of war based on a mere wisp of hope. (Principles of Probability of Success and Proportionality of Projected Results)

His article is obviously sharply critical of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, but also points to a dangerous state of mind that seems to exist in the country right now. Preoccupied by our own economic troubles, we seem not to know or care what is taking place in our name.

The second article is "Is America Addicted to War? The Top Five Reasons Why We Keep Getting into Foolish Fights," by Stephen Walt. I also posted this a few days ago on my Facebook page.

I need to think about this. And probably more than that...

That's Why There's Grace

2011-04-06T10:46:00.000-07:00

Sometimes you just walk into something.

I ran across the lyrics to this song the other day: That's Why There's Grace. I'd never heard of it, nor the singer, Kendall Payne. But I did like the lyrics, so I searched the internet to find the song itself. I found it on GodTube.

I don't personally feel in pain, like the person that she's singing to. However, I know many people in pain, and I work with people in pain. I think these words are really very good, and so I wanted to share the song here.

Sometimes you just walk into something.

I know you feel forgotten
I know you feel confused
I know your hope’s been shattered
I know your solitude

You can’t find the reasons to believe anymore
Don’t hide your thoughts from me

That’s why I died, that’s why I live
I know every part of you that you won’t forgive
That’s why I try to reach you today
I know that it’s hard to have faith through the pain
That’s why there’s grace, That’s why there’s grace.

I know the days are dark now
I know the fear runs deep
I know there is redemption
I know one day you’ll make peace

You can’t fight the feelings, they are wearing your down
Don’t hide your shame from me

That’s why I died, that’s why I live
I know every part of you that you won’t forgive
That’s why I try to reach you today
I know that it’s hard to have faith through the pain
That’s why there’s grace, That’s why there’s grace
That’s why there’s grace, That’s why there’s grace.

Amazing grace how sweet the sound I once was lost but now I’m found
I once was blind but now I see amazing grace has RESCUED me
Amazing grace how sweet the sound I once was lost but now I’m found
I once was blind but now I see amazing grace has REACHED TO me
Amazing grace how sweet the sound I once was lost but now I’m found
I once was blind now I see amazing grace has COVERED me, it’s covered me

Fast, Pray, Act

2011-03-31T13:55:00.000-07:00

One of the organizations I belong to is Bread for the World; it's an organization whose purpose is to raise public consciousness about hunger issues, and urge people of faith to speak out to help reduce and eliminate hunger, both domestic and international. I've been aware of the organization since my Jesuit Volunteer Corps days -- that's over 35 years. One of their efforts is to encourage churches to organize an "Offering of Letters," to their elected officials, about the importance of hunger/food issues.

The current president of BFW is David Beckman, a Lutheran pastor, and this past Monday he, along with four other leaders, announced that he would begin a water-only fast, for one week. They did this "to make a public stand, as Congress has proposed massive budget cuts that disproportionately affect the poor among us." You can see his picture and read the story on his "BreadBlog."

He is not the only religious leader calling for fasting in response to our times. Rev. Jim Wallis of Sojourners Magazine is encouraging Christians everywhere to join in a movement, called Fast, Pray, Take Action: For a Moral Budget. This effort doesn't have to be a water-only fast! It encourages people of faith everywhere to join together in fasting, praying, and contacting their government officials -- to speak up for those without money or power or influence, those who will be hurt the most by current budget-busting proposals.

You don't have to join either of these organizations in order to join in their effort. Sojourners will send you a weekly inspirational message, and a suggestion for action. In his own recent blog, the Discipline of Fasting, Reverend Wallis offers a number of quotes for reflection. Here are a couple I liked:

**"More than any other Discipline, fasting reveals the things that control us."
**"Fasting reminds us that we are sustained ‘by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God’ (Matt. 4.4). Food does not sustain us, God sustains us."
**"Fasting helps us keep our balance in life. How easily we begin to allow nonessentials to take precedence in our lives. How quickly we crave things we do not need until we are enslaved by them."

I signed up. I wrote a couple of letters already this week. My representative (Jim McDermott) and senators (Patty Murray and Maria Cantwell) already are inclined to agree with me on these issues, but reminding them that this is important is still something they need to hear.

The fast? Well actually, it's hard; but it's really good for me, too. I DO feel closer to God. I DO feel closer to those who don't have the option to eat the way I can. I DO feel more free, too, to speak out for them.

Try it. Let me know what goes on inside of you, when you do.

Sentencing, on a Seattle Morning

2011-03-28T14:58:00.000-07:00

This morning some friends of mine were sentenced in federal court in Tacoma, Washington. One of them is Fr. Bill Bichsel, SJ, of the Oregon Province of the Jesuits.

I’ve known Bix for over 30 years. Last year, Bix was part of a small group of nuclear weapons resisters who cut their way through the fence, onto the Trident nuclear missile base at Bangor, to post signs protesting the missiles.

Bix is the one with the microphone and black hat. I had planned to be present for this morning's sentencing, but needed to return to the doctor because of my ear. My wife Joan went, along with a large number of other people – the courtroom was filled, and even the overflow room was filled. Two members of the group received a sentence of 15 months in prison. Bix received 3 months, in consideration of his health, with several months more to wear a monitor ankle bracelet…which he promptly stated that he would not wear! The judge ignored him…I guess they’ll face that question in 3 months.

This morning both Bishop Thomas Gumbleton and Ramsey Clark, former US Attorney General, spoke to the court in favor of their actions. Bishop Gumbleton reminded the court of the folly of nuclear weapons… that current headlines about the radiation escaping accidentally from the reactors in Japan should be a reminder of the horror of what we deliberately threaten to do to our enemies, and also to future generations. Clark was particularly impressive, citing various legal precedents for their action, and reminding the court that actions such as theirs will one day, to our children or grandchildren, seem as prophetic and courageous as do those of Susan B. Anthony, who was once arrested for trying to vote (in 1872), and Rosa Parks, who was arrested for sitting down on a bus (in 1955).

These things probably won’t make tomorrow morning’s Seattle headlines, and certainly won't make headlines at any other major newspaper. It will surely take a lot more people risking their own freedom, to bring enough pressure to the nations of the world to disavow and destroy these weapons.

I've heard Bix speak several times about this -- and you can hear this short excerpt from his 80th birthday party:

God Is God -- Lenten Music

2011-03-26T12:42:00.000-07:00

I surely do love listening to Joan Baez, and this song, written by Steve Earle and sung at the Amnesty International gathering in San Francisco, strikes a simple and reflective note, appropriate for Lent.

God Is God (Steve Earle)

I believe in prophecy.
Some folks see things not everybody can see.
And,once in a while,they pass the secret along to you and me.

And I believe in miracles.
Something sacred burning in every bush and tree.
We can all learn to sing the songs the angels sing.

Yeah, I believe in God, and God ain't me.

I've traveled around the world,
Stood on mighty mountains and gazed across the wilderness.
Never seen a line in the sand or a diamond in the dust.

And as our fate unfurls,
Every day that passes I'm sure about a little bit less.
Even my money keeps telling me it's God I need to trust.

And I believe in God, but God ain't us.

God, in my little understanding, don't care what name I call.
Whether or not I believe doesn't matter at all.

I receive the blessings.
That every day on Earth's another chance to get it right.
Let this little light of mine shine and rage against the night.

Just another lesson
Maybe someone's watching and wondering what I got.
Maybe this is why I'm here on Earth, and maybe not.

Chorus:
But I believe in God, and God is God.

You'd Never Guess It, But I Like Poetry

2011-03-25T16:40:00.000-07:00

It's funny, how life's choices sometimes take you away from some of the very things where you find LIFE.

Like being too busy doing things...important things like your job, your home, or paying the bills...or even very important things, like standing with the poor and powerless, in the infinite ways open to us. Too busy.

A short while back, a friend of mine gave me a book of poetry called "Love Poems From God," by Daniel Ladinsky. Nice book, given by someone whom I respect. I thought I'd never find time to open it, though, given that I already have countless magazines and books lying around, that I tell myself I'll get to "when things slow down a bit."

So, don't you know, it's LENT, and it's a time for slowing down. "Things" don't slow down, they never do -- you have to decide to slow yourself down. To breathe... to listen... to pray... Those are things which are not "things," which are not URGENT "things" (which somehow command our attention), but which are IMPORTANT things, which should command our attention.

So, poetry. I opened the book yesterday, and remembered. I started with a few poems by Rabia of Basra (c 717-801), of whom I had never heard before. She is "without doubt the most popular and influential of female Islamic saints and a central figure in the Sufi tradition." The book's short history said "it is believed she lived and was forced to work as one might in a brothel for many years. She wrote 'What a place for trials and transformation did my Lover put me, but never once did He look upon me as if I were impure.'" The next page, leading to her poetry, has only: "One day He did not leave after kissing me." After I read these, I was hooked, and had to read her poetry. I've only read a few pages so far -- poetry should be lingered over -- but would like to share these two.

I HOPE GOD THINKS LIKE THAT

There is a dog I sometimes take for a walk
and turn loose in a
field.

when I can't give her that freedom
I feel in debt.

I hope God thinks like that and

is keeping track of all
the bliss He
owes
me.

IT ACTS LIKE LOVE

It acts like love -- music,
it reaches toward the face, touches it, and tries to let you know
His promise: that all will be okay.

It acts like love -- music, and
tells the feet, "You do not have to be so burdened."

My body is covered with wounds
this world made,

but I still longed to kiss Him, even when God said,

"Could you also kiss the hand that caused
each scar,

for you will not find me until
you do."

It does that -- music -- helps us
to forgive.

The Woman at the Well: "You Take My Breath Away"

2011-03-24T11:41:00.000-07:00

The weekend before last, I participated in our annual Deacon's Retreat, at the Palisades Retreat Center. I always find at least a couple of good things at the retreat that make it worth going, and this year's retreat was not only "worth going," it was outstanding. The retreat was given by Deacon Bill Echert and his wife Barbara, and it focused on the "scrutiny gospels" from the 3rd, 4th, and 5th Sundays of Lent. Each session was excellent in its own way, but the very first reflection on the Woman at the Well was particularly memorable. Barbara Echert used a combination of imagination, music, and video presentations to really engage us.

In particular, I'd like to recommend this song, which I had never heard before. It's sung by a woman in love, about the one she loves ... and it helped us really appreciate the effect that Jesus had on the Samaritan woman at the well. As perhaps he should on us as well? You decide.

The lyrics are below, with the music.

Sometimes it amazes me
How strong the power of love can be
Sometimes you just take my breath away

You watch my love grow like a child
Sometimes gentle and sometimes wild
Sometimes you just take my breath away

And it's too good to slip by
Too good to lose
Too good to be there
Just to use
I'm gonna stand on a mountain top
And tell the news
That you take my breath away

Sometimes it amazes me
How strong the power of love can be
Sometimes you just take my breath away

Your beauty is there in all I see
And when I feel your eyes on me
Oh don't you know you just take my breath away

And it's too good to slip by
Too good to lose
Too good to be there
Just to use
I'm gonna stand on a mountain top
And tell the news
That you take my breath away

And it's too good to slip by
Too good to lose
Too good to be there
Just to use
I'm gonna stand on a mountain top
And tell the news
That you take my breath away

Surgery During Lent

2011-03-22T13:47:00.000-07:00

I've known for a couple of months now that I needed surgery. At my last visit with my regular doctor -- for a lingering cold -- I asked him to look at various little spots on my body to tell me if there was anything to be concerned about. It was "no...no...that's just a freckle...no..." when almost as an afterthought, I asked him to look inside my left ear. There was a funny bump there, but since I could only feel it but not see it, I hadn't really thought much about it. He only said..."Hmmm. That's something." It turns out that it was a basal cell carcinoma, and I went in yesterday for the surgery to remove it. I should say right away that since this was in my left ear, I was not particularly worried -- I am completely deaf in my left ear, and have been since an infection when I was 4 yrs. old, so I wasn't at all concerned about any effect on my hearing.

They used a procedure called a Mohs surgery, which I guess is usually simple enough. They remove a couple of slices of skin, until they think they have the tumor, and then they look under the microscope to be sure. They often have to go back for a second even a third removal, to make sure they have everything. In my case, the location of the tumor was inside my left year, at the begining of the ear canal but not past the ear drum -- an area where the skin itself isn't very deep, as it runs into cartilage very quickly. It was difficult to get at, and the tumor was a little larger (deeper) than originally thought.

The upshot of the whole thing is that since they removed a somewhat large area (about a quarter's size in area) they decided it was best to graft skin, from behind the ear, onto the area of the surgery, to protect the area and the ear canal itself. Well...

Two hours and about 80 stiches later, I emerged from the office with a huge bandage on my ear and left side of my head. Even with my ear numbed, I ached, I was really tired, and I knew the numbness in my ear was going to wear off soon. I got home, took a pain pill (Vicodin), and began cancelling things -- my role in the evening JustFaith meeting, my morning appointment, my scheduled on-call at Children's Tuesday night, even my bowling date on Thursday (that's the one I really regret; but "nothing even moderately strenuous for a week"). So now I'm at home, ON MY DAY OFF, looking like a dork with this bandage, and feeling the pain welling up again.

When you're lying there and they're stitching you up (for two hours), with the numbness you thankfully can't really feel sharp pain, but you do feel the needle going in, and the pulling of your skin when they're pulling things tight. It's not comfortable, and not for the squeamish, and I know I moaned a couple of times near the end. So anyway, somewhere along the line I started quietly saying the rosary.

I did about 12-13 decades, maybe more. I know I lost count several times, but I'm sure that was OK. I wasn't in pain, but there was a strong aching, that increased over time...somebody can only poke and pull at the same spot only so long before you really get worn out. It certainly wasn't the most devout or prayerful rosary I've ever prayed, but it did help connect me with those who were no doubt suffering far worse than I was (or ever will, I'm pretty sure).

So, it was a good Lent experience -- a completely unexpected one. I'm sure that plenty of people in Japan and Lybia have it far worse, that folks we tortured after the invasion of Iraq had it far worse, and that even children & families that I visit at Children's Hospital, close to home, have it far worse. But maybe I'm a little closer to them today. I hope so.

Focusing on "Holy Desire"

2011-03-10T11:21:00.000-08:00

Lent has to be my favorite season of the Church year. The reason for that is that I'm sort of weak. I get distracted, I get busy, and I get tired; I lose my focus. LENT is the best antidote that I've ever found for helping me get back on track.

Some years are better than others. With Lent starting later this year, I wasn't "caught" by surprise... there was enough of a "break" for me that I started to really look forward to Lent, and so I do have some real hopes this time, this year.

This was also the first time in my memory that I was asked to give the homily for Lent, and so it was the first time that I was able to really put my own thoughts and feelings down on paper about it. A friend's notes gave me the impetus to talk about the three traditional Lenten practices of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving ... so here it is.

Ash Wednesday, 2011

Good evening, and welcome to Lent. In a few minutes, we will mark the beginning of this holy season by receiving ashes on our foreheads in the sign of a cross. The season of Lent lasts forty days in imitation of the time Jesus spent in the desert before starting his public ministry. Of course, Lent leads up to and prepares us for the great celebration of Holy Week beginning with Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem where he celebrated his Last Supper before his Passion, Death and Resurrection. But what are we to do during these forty days? What is the purpose of imitating Jesus' time in the desert? St. Augustine summarized it powerfully: "The entire life of a good Christian," he said, "is in fact an exercise of holy desire. We do not see the Holy One we long for, but the very act of desiring God prepares us, so that when God comes we may see and be utterly filled."

In other words, what St. Augustine is telling us is not that we have to annihilate our desires; sometimes we think that about Lent, or about anything that’s penitential. On the contrary our desires are often all too small-minded. We look for fulfillment in what this world offers. God, however, wants us to have so much more – God’s very own Self. During Lent we undertake practices that intensify our desire, that increase our longing, for God. Jesus spoke about them in today's Gospel: prayer, fasting and almsgiving. They are sometimes called the penitential practices.

Of these three practices, prayer has first place. Prayer, really, is the beginning, the middle, and the end. Our hearts were made for an eternal relationship with God, and that relationship begins in this life, or it does not begin at all. If we desire friendship - that is, a relationship with another human being - we have to do things with that person, be in the other's presence; talk, and listen. Friendship will not happen automatically. The same applies in order to have a relationship with God. The most important prayer for Christians is what we are doing right now, participating in the Mass: making ourselves fully present, around the table; remembering Jesus together, breaking and sharing, together, the very person of Jesus, the one who is the perfect revelation of God. Of course there are other ways of praying too: Eucharistic adoration, meditation, reading and praying over the Bible, or spiritual reading of various kinds - or even turning off the car radio and thanking God for God’s many gifts to us. Prayer is the foundation for the Christian life - it opens the way to an eternal relationship with God.

After prayer comes fasting. This is tricky for us today, because many people obsess about food. I know it is tricky for me, because I really would like to lose a few pounds! But the goal of fasting is not to have a sleek body one can be proud of. And people should enjoy food and the conviviality that often accompanies a good meal. However, if we look to the example of the saints – large or small, they all had this in common: they practiced voluntary self-denial, which is what fasting is. Fasting should also find a place in our lives, whether it’s fasting from food or some other form of self-denial.

At a very minimum all of us are asked to follow the rules of no meat today and on the seven Fridays of Lent, and most of us are asked to fast today and on Good Friday. But until about 1960, generations of Christians fasted – not just on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday, but every weekday during Lent. Tonight I’d really encourage you to go much further than the minimum. You might do a full Lenten fast. Or you might give up for all of Lent some food you particularly enjoy. Or cut out eating between meals or – I am speaking to my own weakness now – give up that snack before bedtime. I know when I make a conscious decision to skip that bedtime snack, a voice inside of me whispers, “Well, you don’t want go to bed hungry!” But I also know that when I do it, I survive just fine.

If you’re a young person, talk to your parents about fasting; because you need to eat well enough to be healthy -- and if you’re a senior adult, you might want to check with your doctor. But fasting in some form is good for us; and if for some reason it should not be fasting from food, it should be another appropriate form of self-denial. Fasting reminds us that if we are serious about our spiritual life we must be able to deny ourselves, to deny our immediate impulses; because if we can’t do that we will find it impossible to take up our cross and follow Jesus… because our own desires will be stronger than our desire for God.

Finally, we come to almsgiving. I admit that I do not donate to every person or cause that I become aware of. That’s not being stingy – it’s the desire to be a good steward, to use resources in the best possible way to help others. For me during Lent this means supporting our parish Lenten charities (see sheet) -- it’s something that all of us here can do together. But for me personally, I also focus more intently on other people in need too, or the groups serving them, those whom I personally support because I know them... I’ve personally gotten involved with them. And bluntly, if you don’t have people or charities like that in your life, you’re not trying very hard. Almsgiving is especially about solidarity with others. It’s about desire for God expressing itself in a love for those God holds especially dear.

St. John Chrysostom, one of the doctors of the early Church, once said that after we have satisfied our own basic needs and the needs of those we are directly responsible for, all the rest really belongs to the poor. He said this to the people of his time: “Not to enable the poor to share in our goods is to steal from them and deprive them of life. The excess goods we hold on to are not ours, but theirs.” Lent is a good time to look at the things we spend our money on. Let’s look at our checkbook – or maybe better, look at our credit card statement. Does it reflect a commitment to God and to our neighbors in need?

We don’t do this so that people will think us generous. Someone who gives one dollar might really be more generous than any of us. And on the other hand, Bill Gates gives away more in a week than any of us will give away in a lifetime, but that does not necessarily mean he is more generous than you or I are. We are not called to give by human standards, but according to God's generosity. If Christians everywhere did this, our world would not have God’s other children living in dire need when we are not.

Tonight when you go home, I would like you to take with you something very practical to remind you of these three basics. It is a flat piece of cardboard that you can form into a small box called a “Rice Bowl.” Place it on your dining table as a constant reminder all through Lent. You could even say the prayer on the side - and as you do some voluntary fasting, you might place in the box what you save, something extra to turn in at the end of Lent.

So … welcome to Lent, my friends. As we receive the ashes on our foreheads, let's remember the purpose of Lent: a focused exercise of holy desire … through the penitential practices of prayer, fasting and almsgiving.

Deacon Denny Duffell, St. Bridget Parish

Consider the Lilies of the Field...

2011-03-03T08:58:00.000-08:00

This homily was hard to write, and not just because of the distraction and tiredness that I mention in the first paragraph. It was hard because I know that this gospel message is one that our parish needs to hear, and I was afraid I couldn't do it justice. As I mention, it DOES feel a bit unreal.

What I hoped is that by bringing in the "freedom of my love" that Jesus talks about to Mack in that quote from "The Shack," people will understand this as an overwhelmingly positive message of how to really LIVE FULLY, and not really worry about all the stuff we fret about so much. It DOES seem unreal...but that's only because the world we live in has conditioned us to live this way.

8th Sunday of Ordinary Time (A), February 27, 2011

Good morning! It's a delight to be here with you again, and to share a few reflections with you about our scriptures this morning. I must say right up front that I've been distracted all day, and our beautiful first reading gives a poignant image of why, since it talks about how God could never forget us, that God's love for us is even more tender than the love a mother has for the child in her womb. Well, since about 1 a.m. this morning my oldest daughter Elizabeth has been in labor with her first child. Still! Little Charlie, they're going to name him... anyway, this Grampa has been short of sleep and in a bit of a fog! I will do my best here this morning.

As Fr. Tim and I have both pointed out before, in the last month our gospel selections have been from the Sermon on the Mount, beginning with the Beatitudes and continuing through chapters five, six, and seven of Matthew's gospel. It is here that Jesus sets the tone for his whole public ministry. And not only does Jesus speak with authority, he goes beyond the law itself, urging us to forgo even the anger or retaliation allowed by the law, to forgive as we would be forgiven, even to the point of loving our enemies and praying for those who would persecute us. He is really encouraging us to live as children of God.

And today's gospel fits seamlessly with that message. If we can really live as God's children, there won't be any conflict between serving God and mammon; and there won't be any need for worry about tomorrow's troubles. However, at times this gospel might feel a little unreal to us...

Because on a really nice day, this is a really nice Gospel. When Jupiter aligns with Mars and your biorhythms are up, you can really enjoy the birds and lilies and you can laugh with joy about tomorrow. But I might hesitate before quoting this gospel to a worried family at Childrens' Hospital. And if you were to hear this Gospel after losing your job, or hearing that your wife loves someone else, or after finding out that you child is on drugs, then you might wonder if Jesus lived in some parallel universe. Didn't Jesus know that the body will not survive if it doesn't eat and wear something? And obviously, growing up in a much warmer part of the world, Jesus never saw any carefree birds frozen in the snow, did he?

Or imagine getting a letter from your son in college: "Dear Mom and Dad: Today's Gospel reading was all about not worrying over things like food and clothing because God is going to give them to us anyway, and it takes our minds away from what really matters. That gave me a whole new perspective. From now on, I'm not going to worry about getting good grades, finding a job, etc. God knows that I need them and God will come through. Your loving son! P.S., In case God is slow getting back to me, I need $850."

Well. Jesus often uses a well-placed exaggeration to help us stop and think. And the reason I played around with this a bit is because I know we DO play OUR internal games with scripture sometimes, because there's often a sharp point in the gospel that we want to avoid.

Take that opening paragraph: "No one can serve two masters...You cannot serve God and mammon." Mammon means money, or wealth, but it means more than that. The word comes from a Hebrew root that means "to entrust." Mammon came to mean "that in which one places ones trust." It became a substitute for God, an idol, a false god. We might tell ourselves, “Well, I don't trust in wealth more than God"... but if that's so, how come it's so hard for us to give any substantial pieces of our wealth away?

Another sharp point in today's Gospel comes as Jesus identifies one of the signs of clinging to a false god: worry. A person devoted to an idol worries about it. "What will happen if I lose the thing that gives my life meaning?" For instance, many of us have been close to people who know that alcohol is ruining their lives -- but they cannot stand the thought of living without alcohol; it's become a false god.

Or consider something good, that we all do, even if we’re retired: work! Work is a good thing. I know people, some right here at St. Bridget, who work 60 or 70 hours a week or more. For some, I have nothing but respect... our work can be a real calling from God. I know doctors and nurses who work that hard, and it's because they've heard a call to be healers, and I admire them for that. Fr. Tim -- you may not know this, but he's the hardest working priest I've ever been associated with, in my 42 years of working for the Church. Sometimes we work so hard because we’ve experienced a call. But sometimes our work is not that kind of calling in life, and goes way beyond meeting our basic needs… but we become driven... to pursue other false or illusive idols of success, or wealth, or security -- and with it then come the fears and worries that our gospel warns us about.

Last week Fr. Tim mentioned a really good book, "The Shack," and I want to echo his endorsement. The staff read this book and discussed it together; there are a couple of copies in our parish library. A little over halfway through the book, the main character, whose name is Mack, is having a heart-to-heart, face-to-face conversation with Jesus, about Mack's worrying and fretting about the future, and Mack asks Jesus why he does that. And Jesus tells him:

"It is your desperate attempt to get some control over something you can't control. It is impossible for you to take power over the future because the future isn't even real, nor will it ever be real, it will always be the future. You try to play God, imagining the evil that you fear becoming reality, and then you try to make plans and contingencies to avoid what you fear."

Mack thought a bit, and then asked, "So why do I have so much fear in my life?"

And so Jesus goes on, "Because you don't believe. You don't really know that God loves you. The person who lives by his fears will not find freedom in my love. I am not talking about rational fears regarding legitimate dangers, but imagined fears, and especially the projection of those fears into the future. To the degree that those fears have a place in your life, you neither believe I am good nor know deep in your heart that I love you. You might pray about my love, or talk about it; you might sing about it at church, but you don't know it."

Might Jesus be saying something like that to some of us today?

Today’s gospel may feel a little unreal…but there’s something here for all of us. As we meet the Lord today in our prayer and our Eucharist, let’s ask for the help to look at our worry and fears. Let’s ask Jesus to speak directly to our heart, to show us how deeply & personally God loves us.

Deacon Denny Duffell

New Arrival!!

2011-03-02T11:09:00.000-08:00

This post rivals my "Best Blog Ever" post back in December. It's a picture of newborn Charlie, and his mom Beth -- my eldest daughter! He's her first child...Charles Forest -- the middle name comes from Joan's side of the family. It's marvelous.

How Do We Follow the Law?

2011-02-14T18:30:00.000-08:00

I really enjoyed giving this homily. I have always loved the example (below) of the difference between an "American" understanding of law and the "Roman" understanding of law. While the Italians seem to be treated a little unfairly here, I actually prefer a system of law that lays out the IDEAL, rather than specifying various behaviors and penalties. It might not work with the American mind, I know, but I can dream, can't I?

6th Sunday Ordinary Time (A); Matthew 5:17-37

Good morning. It’s good to be with you again. Before I say anything else, I just have to mention that every time I hear that phrase from the gospel about looking at a woman with lust in one’s heart, I cannot help but think of that story of President Jimmy Carter when he was first running for president. Remember that story? He happened to mention in an interview that, although he had never been unfaithful to his wife, he had, he admitted, “looked at another woman with lust in his heart.” Well, it was a very scriptural thing for him to say, but it was also pretty stupid! A lot of people made fun of him for that remark, but to his credit, he took it rather well. It is not so well-known that back on the campaign trail later, he was approached one day by a married couple, and the man introduced his wife to the candidate, and the man added with a smile, “but please Mr. Carter, don’t lust after her in your heart.” Carter stopped, looked at the man’s wife, who was middle aged and on the portly side, and he just played along and said, “But I just can’t help it!”

Today’s gospel is once again a selection from Matthew’s Sermon on the Mount. Te whole passage takes up chapters 5, 6, & 7 in Matthew’s gospel, and it’s so important that we devote 6 Sundays to it. We began two weeks ago with the very familiar Beatitudes, which is like a preamble, or a framework, for the whole body of teaching Jesus introduces. We then continued with last week’s words of encouragement, that we are the salt of the earth, the light of the world, a city on a hill. Those two passages have set us up for these next two weeks, as Jesus fills us in on the wide implications of his teachings.

You have just heard the gospel passage that I proclaimed. There are two key things that I would like to have you notice here. The first is that Jesus teaches with authority. Notice his style: “You have heard that it was said to your ancestors… But I say to you.”

“You have heard that it was said”…“It was also said”… “Again you have heard that it was said to your ancestors”… “But I say to you…” Jesus takes three different areas of the law that come directly from the Ten Commandments, the highest Mosaic law, about killing, adultery, and oaths, and then speaks with unheard-of authority. This is truly extraordinary. In order to appreciate how extraordinary this is, imagine how you would react if Fr. Tim or I were to say to you one Sunday morning, “You have heard that the Church teaches thus and so, but I say to you…” You’d be rather shocked, I imagine, no matter what it was that we had to say. From the very beginning of his public life, Jesus was clearly a different kind of teacher.

The second is WHAT he proclaims in these three areas. I’m not talking about any of these specifics, but the overall meaning: that “unless our righteousness surpasses that of the scribes and Pharisees, we will not enter the kingdom of heaven.” And in case we miss the point, he spells it out. It’s not just about killing, but it’s also about our anger, or contempt, or insulting and abusive language. It’s not just about adultery, but it’s also about our attitudes, and about treating someone as an object, a sexual fantasy, a toy that we have power over. And it’s not just about making a false oath, it’s about legalizing, trying to get around the intent of a law, weaseling our way around or out of something. I think if Jesus were to give this Sermon on the Mount to the world of today, about these particular areas, he could have a lot more pointed things to say, and modern-day scribes and Pharisees he might say them about -- and we could have a lot of fun imagining what or who those might be…there were a couple good instances in the news this week!

But let’s not go there…because I don’t think we need any extra excuses to find faults with other people’s attitudes. Jesus was more interested in calling us to be better people. He was interested in a different way of looking at the law.

I think this is a GREAT passage for Americans, because we have a rather skewed notion of law. I’m not saying that to be offensive, but just to note that we DO tend to be rather legalistic as a people. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing. We’re generally law-abiding people. In fact, I’d like to ask, how many of you here today, if you happen to be out a little late at night, driving home, and you come to a stoplight, and it’s red, and there are no car lights, no pedestrians around anywhere within blocks…how many of you will NOT just sit there patiently, waiting for that light to change to green, but, after looking around carefully, will DRIVE THROUGH red light? (show of hands – how many?) Maybe most of us are afraid of getting caught! But really, we’re generally inclined to obey the law, aren’t we?

Now, I probably don’t have to convince you that if I asked that same question in Rome, it’d be a completely different matter. In fact, if I were in front of a room full of Italians and told them what the results of that question were here, everyone would laugh! It isn’t be uncommon to see Italians stop and then go through a red light in broad daylight, , even with a traffic cop around, as long as there was no danger posed to the traffic. The traffic laws there are treated as “guides” for traffic behavior.

We look at law differently. We’re generally law-abiding. But we are also mimalistic when it comes to law – we feel that once we satisfy the law, we’re free to do whatever we want. We enjoy our freedoms, and more often than not, our attitude is to “live and let live.” But that runs counter to what Jesus is saying to us this morning.

So I’d like to suggest to you that Jesus’ words today have special force for our legal minds. When Jesus says to us “our righteousness must surpass those of the scribes and Pharisees,” he’s telling us that there is an interior way of looking at the law. It’s not enough to pay attention to the surface level only of the moral law. There is a also deep interior level to the law. What about: “Honor your father and your mother” … we can see interior levels there, can’t we. How about: “You shall not steal.” … you can easily be legalistic about that one. “Remember to keep holy the Lord’s day” … that’s a really good one for us to think about. And it’s true not just about the Ten Commandments, but about any of the things that we say we believe. Jesus calls each one of us to go deeper -- to see him more clearly, follow him more nearly, and love him more dearly. It’s about putting our beliefs into practice not by following a set of laws… but by following him.

Christianity is not a set of laws. It’s a way of life. And that way of life is the path once blazed by the one we know and love as Jesus.

I’d like to invite all of us this morning, as we prepare to meet the Lord in our Eucharist, to listen…to hear how he speaks to our heart, and to the ways he is calling each of us to go deeper.

Deacon Denny Duffell, 2/13/2011

IPJC Workshop on Immigration

2011-02-02T00:37:00.000-08:00

Last Saturday morning was a little crazy. On Friday night Joan and I prepared to head out of town for several days of R&R in Winthrop, located just east of the Cascades on Highway 20 -- only the road through the mountains gets closed in the winter, so the only way to get there is very roundabout...a five hour drive, all in all.

But in the morning, my first obligation was to a parish workshop on Immigration, sponsored by our Social Justice Commission, and led by the Intercommunity Peace and Justice Center, a really fine Seattle-based organization that provides workshops, training, and other programs on a diverse array of social justice topics. Immigration was chosen by our SJ group as its first priority for this year, in part because many of our members had been so moved the previous year by their personal encounters with "illegal" immigrants during their JustFaith experience last year.

However, by that morning there were only 18 individuals who had signed up ahead of time, in spite of a lot of work on the part of the commission members -- which might have meant that we would have an even smaller turnout when the workshop got underway. But at the 9:00 a.m. start time, people were still coming...33 in all! Our presenter, Sr. Susan Francois, CSJP, said it was the best turnout she had had, while doing these workshops. Here was the format:

Immigration: Creating Caring Communities

Context: Examining the complex issue of immigration including economic and legislative issues, faithful citizenship, and the call to act with justice.

Content:
•Reflect and pray as a community
•Explore scripture & Catholic Social Teaching
•Examine history & recent immigration trends
•Review US Bishops’ recommendations
•Receive practical tools & resources

Process: Includes prayer, reflection, presentation, interactive story sharing and discussion

The time just flew by! The first hour and a half was thoroughly educational, and presented with the background of our Christian scriptures and traditional Catholic teachings. It was NOT "dumbed down" at all -- and very current. The final section of the day got all the attendees involved, by engaging us in role plays at our tables, with three different scenarios, so that we could get a handle on the complexities of the issue, and many of the different points of view that exist.

Unfortunately, none of us who were present expects that comprehensive immigration reform will be passed by the newly constituted Congress, but at least we are all much more aware of the issues...and the real lives impacted by our collective failure to act.

For information on the US Catholic Church's position on immigration, check HERE. Or check out the bishops' campaign, Justice for Immigrants.

Journey to Justice Day, Seattle

2011-01-26T10:07:00.000-08:00

Last Saturday I had the opportunity to attend the annual Journey to Justice Day here in Seattle, a gathering of all the current JustFaith groups in the area. I've posted about JustFaith before; quite simply, it's absolutely the best parish program I've ever run into, and as far as formation in Social Justice goes, there's nothing else even in the running. It includes prayer; two retreats, at beginning and end; DVD and video presentations; guest speakers; field trips (called "Border Crossings"); book study (10-12 over the length of the program); and connections with solid Church institutions (the US Conference of Catholic Bishops, the Catholic Campaign for Human Development, Catholic Relief Services, Maryknoll, Bread for the World, and Pax Christi) -- all over a period of 30 weeks of sessions, each 2 1/2 hours long, during which time participants develop a sense of shared purpose and community. Whew!

Journey to Justice Day is one of the Border Crossings, an "immersion experience" during which the JF participants meet with people involved in a CCHD project -- low-income people themselves -- explain what problem their project addresses and how they go about it. Here in the Seattle area we have so many JustFaith groups that the Archdiocese organizes Journey to Justice Day as an event for ALL the groups, and invites ALL the various CCHD groups to attend and explain their programs.

What a collection of great programs! Included were Women's Justice Circles, Latinos for Community Transformation, the Lopez Community Land Trust, the Tenants Union, and Women's Housing, Equality, and Enhancement League (WHEEL), among a few others. I was so impressed by all those who came to represent their groups... all low-income, and so many of them women. I admired their dedication, their strength, and their ability to articulate their situation and what they were trying to do. This was not only an eye-opener for so many of the JustFaith attendees, and an exposure to what institutional change was all about... seeing and experiencing those women was also something that broke through a lot of stereotypes about poor people.

My personal favorite was WHEEL, an organization made up of homeless and formerly homeless women. Two of them, Tammy and Naomi, described some of their activities... organizing what they call Women in Black, vigils for homeless people who die as victims of violence... the Homeless Remembrance Project, installing sculpture and "Leaves of Remembrance" in public places, to keep the issue of homelessness before the public eye... and Tent City 3 & 4, which are temporary shelters for the homeless that move every 2-4 months to different communities in the area that agree (not always without dissention) to host them. These and other projects are decided upon, organized, and then carried out by the women themselves, and with allies they make within the wider community.

So refreshing, so inspiring, and so powerful!

Ever Elusive Peace?

2011-01-21T11:05:00.000-08:00

I subscribe to several blogs, but am usually so back-logged by events at the parish and hospital that I usually fail keep up with them. And usually when I do read them, I start with the most out-of-date items, which guarantees that I'll always be behind. But today, I opened my most recent item from the National Catholic Reporter, a baptismal homily by Bishop Gumblelton of Detroit, which actually dealt with the topic of peace. You can view the whole homily here, but here are a couple of choice excerpts:

….We are followers of Jesus, the one who rejects all violence for any reason whatsoever. How many of us would even remember that today, January 16th, is the 20th anniversary of a great tragedy in the world, when we went to war against Iraq, 20 years ago today.

For six weeks -- 42 days and 42 nights -- we bombed Iraq so that we destroyed all of their water purifications systems, their sewage treatment plants, so that they no longer would have clean water. We did that deliberately.

Besides killing thousands of people in those bombings, we destroyed their access to what is necessary for life. We destroyed the whole infrastructure of that country and for 12 1/2 years afterwards, we imposed an embargo that prevented them from ever rebuilding.

Then again, we went to war again in 2003, and we’re still at war 20 years later. Where has been the Christian cry denouncing that war? How many of us have cried out against it and demanded that it end?

…Right after that first Persian Gulf War -- that war lasted only 12 weeks and yet did such terrible devastation -- in March of 1991, John Paul II published an encyclical letter called Centesimus Annus, a letter that was a recounting of 100 years of Catholic social teaching about justice, about peace and how to bring justice and peace into our world.

In the document, John Paul says: “I myself, on the occasion of the recent tragic war in the Persian Gulf repeated the cry, ‘Never again war. No, never again war.’” He was repeating the cry of Pope Paul VI that Paul made at the United Nations in 1965 imploring the nations of the world to reject war. “Never again war,” John Paul says, “I repeated that cry because war destroys the lives of innocent people,” and we refuse to even number those innocent people who have been killed through this war in Iraq, and now this war in Afghanistan.

Innocent people in the hundreds of thousands have been killed during these past 20 years by that war, but then, John Paul also says, “It throws into upheaval the lives of those who do the killing.” …. You can’t learn to kill unless you do something to yourself to dehumanize yourself. That’s how you do it, but you’re not healed from that easily.

So, we have failed, it seems to me, to be the light of Christ. Each of us must take some responsibility for what has gone on for 20 years now and continues to go on and we must, it seems to me, if we really want to follow Jesus, to be a light to the nations. We must say no to this war and to every war to follow Jesus.

I can’t tell you exactly what you must do. I have to keep on thinking about what I must do, but all of us somehow -- if we’re going to be the light to the nations that Jesus calls us to be.

“As God sent Me, I send you,” Jesus said. “Receive the Holy Spirit so that you can carry on My work.” Each of us has to determine how I will more faithfully follow the way of Jesus, to work against violence and war, and to bring peace to our world. …

I spent a few days last week listening to portions of several speeches of Martin Luther King Jr., including one on nonviolence given to the American Jewish Committee. I've also begun a new book, Jesus and Nonviolence, A Third Way, by Walter Wink, which our JustFaith group will be studying soon. This short review of Wink's book by Jon Pahl summarizes his thoughts well:

Wink avoids apocalyptic doom and succinctly traces the biblical, theological, and practical contours of militant Christian nonviolence. Nonviolence, according to Wink, is an alternative to either of the "natural" responses to evil--fight or flight. Jesus' "third way," as Wink sketches it, neither mirrors the violence of power as domination nor flees the scene in passive submission. The third way seeks rather to engage the "powers and principalities" with imaginative forms of civil disobedience, community organizing, and public ritual. These nonviolent means seek not simply to replace power with power but to move closer to the democratic ideal of the rule of law in which justice is built into the fabric of human arrangements, and where human flourishing is structurally insured for the greatest number possible.

"Nonviolence" is such an inadaquate-sounding word for a difficult yet dynamic force. As Wink's book points out in its first pages, "There have been some remarkable success stories of nonviolent struggle around the world recently." After citing Corazon Aquino in the Phillipines, the Solidarity movement in Poland, nonviolent general strikes overthrowing seven different Latin American dictators, and 14 different nonviolent revolutions in 1989-90 alone, he states: "These revolutions involved 1.7 billion people. If we total all the nonviolent movements of the twentieth century, the figure comes to 3.4 billion people, and again, most were successful. And yet there are still people that insist that nonviolence doesn't work!"

I wish our own U.S. government could get that message. What kind of force do we want to be in the world?

March For Life, 2011

2011-01-19T13:22:00.000-08:00

Tuesday I participated in the annual March For Life in the Washington State capital of Olympia. This was the first time I've made it to the event, and I felt more motivated this year because abortions are once again on the increase. The (above) website for the event indicates that there were about 10,000 people there, and I wouldn't dispute the figure.

The march was preceeded by two Masses at St. Michael's Church, one for youth presided over by Bishop Tyson, and the other for adults presided over by our newly installed Archbishop Sartain. Afterwards, we did march, from St. Michaels to the steps of the Capitol, where an hour-long rally was held, with various speakers, including legislators. There was not enough room on the steps of the building, so we overflowed onto other areas, and unfortunately I couldn't really hear the speakers very well. But I watched the crowd, read all the signs, and in general enjoyed the festivities.

And it WAS festive. The speeches didn't have an angry tone at all, and the crowd was upbeat. The signs, purposefully worded and strong, were generally positive and not pejorative. The only angry people seemed to be the 13 or 14 counter-protestors across the street, who deliberately intended to be disruptive by making a lot of noise during the Archbishop's opening prayer; but the large crowd just ignored them, and they soon stopped.

It was a good event. My only criticism would be that I saw few signs, and heard little or nothing spoken (that I could hear), that made connections to other issues -- like the death penalty, war, or the defunding of programs for low-income women. Those connections HAVE to be made, in my opinion, if the Pro-Life movement wishes to grow.

I would recommend the event, and of course the cause. If I go next year, I'll carry my own sign, that makes connections.

A Light to the Nations

2011-01-17T14:34:00.000-08:00

Last Wednesday night, after a few days away to help finally clear my head and get some rest, I came back to join with several other parishioners at our Social Justice Commission meeting. Since I'm a staff member, I'm usually a very calm presence at the meeting, and my intent is normally to encourage everyone else, hopefully to draw out the ideas and commitment of others there, and to support what the group chooses to do.

Instead, I found myself getting rather passionate -- about ADVOCACY. It's something that I had agreed to take on, but of course in order to do it effectively I need to work with others in the parish who are interested in it. And frankly, I haven't found very many parishioners who seem to have much interest in it.

So...I found myself saying things about it at the meeting, much more than I usually do. The other members who were there are friends and are supportive of justice efforts, and so it was not an awkward or unpleasant experience. But afterwards, it made me dig inside more deeply.

I knew that it was my turn to preach this past weekend, and that it also happened to be the weekend of the holiday for Martin Luther King Jr. So for inspiration, I pulled out a CD that I had, containing excerpts of some of his speeches, and played them over and over, when I was in the car traveling from one place to another.

The following homily is what resulted.

Homily for the Second Sunday of Ordinary Time (A)

Good morning. It is once again an honor and privilege to be with you today, to share a few thoughts about our scripture. Last Sunday we closed our observance of the Christmas season by celebrating the Baptism of Jesus, which also began for us our season Homily for the 2nd Sunday of Ordinary Time, during which we journey along with Jesus in his public life and ministry. We're still at the very beginning of that journey, and our gospel selection today contains the testimony of John the Baptist that Jesus is the one; Jesus is the Lamb of God, the one who will baptize with the Holy Spirit; Jesus is the one John has been waiting for, preparing the way for, and the one that he then urges his own disciples to follow. It's very fitting that this gospel is matched with a very beautiful first reading from Isaiah 49, when God says to the people of Israel, "You are my servant Israel, in whom I will be glorified." And of course these words do echo down to us through the centuries, not only as followers of Jesus but as servants too.

It is no small thing to be God’s servants, and our world is by far a better place when we do our duties well. These duties for our children and youth are those of listening to the voice of God through their parents and in their hearts, and working faithfully to get a proper education. These duties for our young adults and older, are those of listening to the calling of God to choose a proper vocation, one that faithfully uses the talents and opportunities God has given us. And these duties, still later, if it is our calling, are those of marrying and loving well, and faithfully raising children, and working hard to support and guide them. And then there are the servant duties we all have to love and honor God with our lives, to worship regularly, to be loving and charitable toward those in need. I have been here at St. Bridget now for 27 years, and while I don't know everyone's name, I do know that you are good and generous people, and I have loved being with you all this time, and I hope I have a few more years to go! I know that you do try to be faithful to these servant duties and many more, especially those of education and work and family and charity.

But today I would like to hold up for you -- and to hold up for myself as well -- other duties that God is calling forth from his people Israel in our scripture today. It is true that God calls Israel his servant people. But God does not stop there. God does not stop there. God adds, "It is too little a thing that you should be my servant... I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth." A light to the nations. Salvation, reaching to the ends of the earth. God's calling for us does not end with our schooling, our families, our jobs, or even our outreach to our neighbor in need. Jesus came not just to his Jewish brothers and sisters, to Bethlehem, or Nazareth, or Galilee, or Jerusalem. Jesus went to Capernaum, and the gentile area across the sea of Galilee. Jesus healed the Roman centurion's servant. And Jesus died for all people, to conquer sin and death for all of humankind. And we come together today as his disciples, called to follow him, called to be a light to the NATIONS!

My confess my heart is somewhat heavy these days. It started just before the end of the year, when I got a little e-mail from Rev. Sally Kinney, the pastor of Community Ministry at Seattle Mennonite Church, in the Lake City area. They're the community that started the Sunday dinner ministry to the homeless that St. Bridget has been involved with for the last couple of years, and I know some of you help with that ministry -- I think it's on the second Sunday of the month. She was writing to her friends in ministry about the troubles with our state budget -- the fact that there's so little money, that programs WILL be cut, especially programs for the poor. She wrote: "This is a difficult time, and there are no easy or sure answers. What we must do is continue to tell our state representative and senators that this is simply too much pain to bear and they must do whatever they can possibly do to minimize it." And she ended by saying, "We will all have to do even more than we are now, to help our neighbors."

And then just Friday, you may have seen this front-page headline in our Seattle Times: "HEALTH BUDGET CUTS GRIM FOR PEOPLE ON THE EDGE." Inside, the paper outlined the problems facing the state, and the cuts we are facing. And that's not all of course; as we all know, the national scene is very difficult too.

It's not just that the economy is bad, that unemployment is high, and that the poor are hurting more than you and I are. There's a collective feeling afoot in our land that budgets need to be brought in line, and that therefore government programs must be cut. And of course, it’s true that you cannot endlessly sail the ship of government on a sea of red ink. But in an environment where the only choices are to cut programs, those who have no voice will suffer the most. Those who are already vulnerable will be even more at risk. And then, what becomes of our collective soul?

I'm proud of our parish charity and outreach. I am happy that we reached out to Tent City, that our Christmas giving tree helped out so many youth at the Orion Center and families at Sacred Heart Shelter and individuals coming to the Francis House. I think it's wonderful that we collect food every Sunday for those in need through our St. Vincent de Paul. But all of our charity will be more than undone by the cuts that are coming in services to the poor.

We are called to be a light to the nations! A light to our community, our state, our country. Our calling as Christians goes beyond our own life, beyond our own family, and even beyond our charity. Our calling includes ADVOCACY. Advocacy for those who have no voice. Advocacy for those on the edge whose health services are being cut. Advocacy for the homeless whose numbers will increase over the next year, and for those mentally ill on our streets whose services will likely be cut. Advocacy for the immigrants in our midst, who will be increasingly vulnerable to exploitation, even as they struggle to provide for their families. And my experience, unfortunately, is that however generously as a parish we reach out to others in charity, as a parish we have very little we can point to as advocates.

One parishioner whom I respect very much told me after our Saturday evening Mass that she “felt scolded” by that. Please understand, I’m not scolding you! If I have anyone to scold, it’s myself. But I admit, I AM trying to light a fire here today. We are a fine servant people, but our times call for more. Our scripture today reminds us that it is too little a thing to be a servant people, we are given to be a LIGHT TO THE NATIONS. And to be a light requires a fire, a passionate love, especially a love for those Jesus loved: the poor and the forgotten. I would hate for us to miss our calling. There is no better community in the city of Seattle for this task than St. Bridget. We are well-educated. We have strong families. We have a loving and generous heart. And many of us are well-regarded in our professions, with influence in wider circles. We can do this!

I find it sadly ironic… this Tuesday I will be joining several others from St. Bridget and with Catholics across the state for the annual March for Life in Olympia. And as we advocate for the recognition of the rights of the unborn, we should all be sadly aware that abortion in our country is once again on the increase. And that should be no surprise -- for if poor women have less available medical care, less community support, fewer choices for their families, there will be more abortions.

I confess I don't have the answer. However, my New Year's Resolution is that I will work hard to encourage all of parish outreach efforts to include a component of Advocacy. I ask each one of us, as we encounter Jesus in our Eucharist today, to ask the Lord how we can better be a light to our community, and to our world, especially on behalf of those he loved so much.

Deacon Denny Duffell, 1/16/2011

Back on the Planet

2011-01-17T13:34:00.000-08:00

I've taken an unanticipated break from blogging, but I suspect things will come a bit more regularly now. The week before Christmas, my father-in-law died. He was quite a man -- a leader in the Spokane community, someone who truly made an obvious difference that anyone from Spokane over the last 35 years would notice. His name was King Cole, and he was the orginator and moving force behind Expo '74, the World's Fair that put Spokane on the map, and changed forever the shape of the city. The fair had an environmental theme, and the whole effort included cleaning up the river and the downtown area, leaving a beautiful park and community center on the island where formerly there had been a mess of railroad tracks, surrounded by urban blight. There are too many links to list here; just go to Google and type in "King Cole Spokane" to see some of them.

The holiday season has ended, but now the dead gray of winter and the endless Seattle rains are now upon us. I usually don't mind, but frankly, my heart is heavy with the condition of our state and country. I'm usually a very optimistic person, but in the state of Washington, there is very little good news if you're poor and in poor health, if you're homeless, if you're mentally ill, or in general if you rely on any kind of government assistance. The state is cutting its budget and services drastically, by over 20%. California is as bad, Oregon is worse, along with several other states.

I don't feel guilty to have a job, to be in (reasonably) good health, or to have a roof over my head. But I do feel that I have failed somehow, when the communities that I am a part of are allowing this to happen. In Washington state, voters decided to end a tax on soda, candy, gum, and other such items. They turned down a proposal to tax the wealthiest Washingtonians to help relieve the budget. And they voted to require ANY NEW TAX LEGISLATION to be put to a vote of the people, and to require a super-majority to pass it. Sometimes I am ashamed to live here. I will have to do/say something about this, even if it costs something.

More to come, believe me.

Who Are You, Really?

2010-12-13T10:15:00.000-08:00

Only very seldom have I ever given the homily on the 1st or 3rd Sundays of Advent. The reason, quite simply, is that the pastor virtually always gives the homily on Christmas, and so I've usually wound up with the homily on the 2nd and 4th Sundays of Advent. So, it's been nice, this year, to have two different sets of scripture readings to prepare a homily for [see my earlier blog, Stay Awake].

I have to confess right away that my perceptions of Christmas have been unfavorably skewed for some time. I remember, as far back as high school, writing a poem about "hypocritical toys," which promised a happiness that was all too short-lived, and small. When I was 22, my then-fiancee broke up with me just before Christmas. When I was 27, my grandpa -- whom I dearly loved -- died on Christmas Day, my first close experience with death. Having children of my own -- and now, grandchildren -- went a long way towards healing those feelings, because small children really love Christmas and almost everything that goes along with it.

So this homily begins with acknowledging that Christmas can be difficult -- and moves on from there.

Third Sunday of Advent (A)

Good morning, and a blessed Gaudete Sunday to you! If you don't know what "gaudete" means, ask a Catholic over 70. I’m not going to tell you… I trust you DO know that our Third Sunday of Advent is a little different from the other three. That rose-colored candle symbolizes that we're past the half-way mark in our anticipation of Christmas. And so if you look in the missalette, the Entrance Antiphon quotes from Phillipians: "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say rejoice!" Our opening prayer speaks of joy and rejoicing. Our first reading, describing the marvels of what the coming of God will be like, uses the words joy, joyful, rejoice, rejoicing -- six times!

I hope that the word "rejoice" does describe your mood and the mood of your household as we get closer to Christmas. However, we all know that this is not the case for everyone. For some it's a headache; for some it's an uncertain time, or a painful time. For many it brings back hard memories. Saturday afternoon I prayed with a family at Children's who were taking their 4-month old baby off life support -- little Angel. I tell you, he was beautiful, just beautiful -- delicate fingers and toes, curly black hair. The only way you could really tell he was sick was because of the needles and tubing, and machines that he was hooked up to. As we prayed, his family just sobbed and held his hand... I couldn't help imagining – or just trying to imagine -- what Christmas would be like for Angel's family this year, and for some years to come.

I mention this to you not only because of what I experienced today, but also because our gospel today begins with a note like that. Maybe you never spent much time thinking about it. What was going on in the life of John the Baptist, at the beginning of our gospel? He was in prison! When we heard from him in last week's gospel, we read from chapter three, at the very beginning of Jesus' ministry, at the time John baptizes Jesus. John was bold, confident, full of passion, with words of power; a real herald and messenger of the One to Come. And I'm sure it's a bit heady when the crowds come to you, even out in the desert; when you can speak boldly to power; when people respond and publicly repent. But in today's gospel, there's some time that has gone by -- we're in the 11th chapter now. John is not only in prison but he's uncertain...searching for answers. Perhaps it was his incarceration that caused him to doubt himself, along with Jesus. Prison can do that. Or perhaps John was becoming disillusioned when it seemed that Jesus was NOT emerging as the figure of power he had heralded, the judge whose “axe was at the roots of the trees,” the one who would “burn the chaff in unquenchable fire.” So he has his disciples ask Jesus, "Are you the one who is to come, or do we look for another?"

I think it might be a good thing to ponder who this Jesus is whom we wait for. You see, it's not just John the Baptist who had his doubts or misunderstandings. As we know too, the apostles also misunderstood who Jesus was -- many of them expected a Messiah who would liberate their country from the Romans. And NONE of them understood -- ahead of time -- how suffering and death could possibly fit into his picture. And so too, for us, we project our own expectations onto our understanding of Jesus, and of God, whom Jesus reveals. We think Jesus is someone that he is not. We fail to understand how Jesus shows us who God is. For instance, we sometimes grapple with the problem of evil in the world, and how a good God could allow the innocent to die or evil people to get away unpunished. We lose heart if we don't feel that God answers our prayers.

And sometimes it goes deeper than that. Sometimes there's an evil that was done to us, and we can't understand why God let that happen to us. So, a close loved one dies, or someone we loved and trusted betrays us. "God, where were you! I can't really trust you anymore. Maybe you aren't really there..." And it is especially damaging when this happens to a child, when a parent dies, or leaves; or when someone trusted abuses that child. I know there are people here today who have suffered through this. These things not only damage us, they undermine, sometimes fatally, our understanding of God, our relationship with God.

That’s a lot to throw out there, I know. But ALL of us have things – maybe not these things, but things – that affect our ability to know Jesus. As so it is a vital question that John’s disciples ask Jesus…though for us, the question might not be “Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?” but rather, “Jesus, who are you, really?”

You probably noticed that in our gospel today Jesus does not give a direct answer to John and his disciples. Instead, he tells the disciples only to tell John that "the blind see, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have the good news proclaimed to them." And then he adds this great little line at the end: "And blessed is the one who takes no offense at me." I love that last line... “Blessed is the one who takes no offense at me.” The one who finds no stumbling block in me... the one who really listens to my word, who really walks by my side, who really opens his mind and heart… the one who doesn't allow his own expectations to get in the way.

You see, the reality is that however old we are -- whether you're 63 or thereabouts, like me, or older -- or a parent with a young family -- or a young adult, or a child -- I'm sure that we have a personal understanding of who Jesus is. But that understanding is only partial. For some of us, it's WAY too partial...WAY too fragmented, WAY too shallow. Even for those of his time, those who actually MET Jesus, their understanding was too small. We all need to grow in our understanding of Jesus.

We do this through prayer. That is, we do this through talking with him, and listening to him. We do this by throwing our lives in with his; by following his path; by standing with the blind and the lame and the dying and the poor, and experiencing what he experienced.

And it’s especially appropriate to do that in Advent – a time when we prepare ourselves to meet the Lord. And there's a really good way to do that; and it's why we get together today. Today, in a just few minutes, we'll do what he told us to do. We'll remember what he did for us -- how he gave his life for ours ... we'll take bread and wine, call upon the Holy Spirit, and actually share his Body and Blood offered for us. We'll have the opportunity to open our hearts to him, to talk with him and listen to him, to ask for his help and his grace and his presence in our lives.

Deacon Denny Duffell
December 12, 2010

Charles Curran on Abortion Law

2010-12-06T18:01:00.000-08:00

The other night I opened the 11/16 issue of the National Catholic Reporter, to discover a special 4-page insert entitled “US Catholic Bishops and Abortion Legislation – a Critique From Within the Church.” The author was Fr. Charles Curran, no favorite of the Catholic magisterium, and this latest work will no doubt intensify the criticism that is regularly heaped upon him. The text was originally given at a lecture in Dallas on October 28, and you can find parts of the article at the NCR web site HERE.

Curran immediately acknowledged and DID NOT DISPUTE CHURCH TEACHING in his talk. However, he argued that various approaches to the law are acceptable under Catholic teaching, not just the approach taken by US bishops: “In my judgment, the US bishops claim too great a certitude for their position on abortion law and fail to recognize that their own position logically entails prudential judgment so that they cannot logically distinguish it from most of the other issues such as the death penalty, health care, nuclear deterrence, and housing.”

That judgment came about halfway through a lecture that first traced the narrowing of the bishops’ approach to abortion since the mid-1970s when, in the wake of Roe vs Wade, the Supreme Court decision legalizing abortion, the bishops resisted a single issue approach to political involvement. A document on political responsibility before the 1976 election, wrote Curran, “insisted the bishops did not want to form a voting bloc or tell Catholics how to vote. Voters should examine the candidates on a full range of issues, and with a consideration for the candidates’ integrity, philosophy and performance. The document lists eight issues in alphabetical order, beginning with abortion, but does not give priority to any of these issues.”

In contrast, today the bishops “now clearly state abortion is the primary issue.” Their rationale for doing so, he said, rests on their conviction that other issues of public policy and law “involve prudential judgments,” but that abortion laws (according to the bishops) “deal with something that is intrinsically evil and does not involve prudential judgments. Catholics have certitude on the abortion law issue.”

However, Curran states, the bishops’ thesis is wrong for four reasons:

●“The speculative doubt about when human life begins;
●The fact that possibility and feasibility are necessary aspects involved in discussions about abortion law;
●The understanding and role of civil law; and
●The weakness of the intrinsic evil argument.”

His points and arguments make for intriguing reading, and I personally hope they will spark discussion on this issue. Such a discussion might not be welcomed by our Catholic hierarchy, since they might feel that it would weaken the certitude with which they have spoken on this issue.

However, a great many Catholics feel that the Church has effectively chosen sides on behalf of the Republican party and its platform solely because of the priority given by the bishops to this issue. This is true for Catholics on both sides of the aisle. Republican Catholics no doubt take comfort in it as much as Democratic Catholics feel abandoned by it. Catholics for whom the wider range of social justice issues is especially important [as I am and as, in fact, I think all Catholics should be] often feel isolated by this.

I am not going to hold my breath waiting for this discussion. However, I will study Curran’s arguments, and ask questions when I have the opportunity to do so -- though not in any homily, since there is no opportunity for discussion at such a time.

My Best Blog Ever

2010-12-03T14:10:00.001-08:00

This is my best blog ever. Don't know why I never thought to do it before.

For Joanie --

Perhaps Love

Perhaps love is like a resting place, a shelter from the storm.
It exists to give you comfort. It is there to keep you warm.
And in those times of trouble, when you are most alone
The memory of love will bring you home.

Perhaps love is like a window, perhaps an open door.
It invites you to come closer. It wants to show you more.
And even if you lose yourself and don’t know what to do
The memory of love will see you through.

Oh, love to some is like a cloud, to some as strong as steel;
For some a way of living, for some a way to feel.
And some say love is holding on, and some say letting go.
And some say love is everything, and some say they don’t know.

Perhaps love is like the ocean, full of conflict, full of pain;
Like a fire when it’s cold outside, thunder when it rains.
If I should live forever, and all my dreams come true,
My memories of love will be of you.

Stay Awake!

2010-11-28T17:36:00.000-08:00

For me, the creative process for a homily is not something I can predict. I collect a lot of good things as I read or go about my life, and try to put things in a folder or scribbled on my calendar. Often I'll save something that I won't use at all, or even remember, but if I come across it later I'll realize that something had gelled inside, that came out when I later wrote my homily.

This past weekend was one of those times. The other day I read a piece distributed by Catholic News Service, by Jean Denton, for this past Sunday's scriptures. It wasn't exactly a homily, but a reflection on the scripture. You can find the whole piece HERE, and here is the beginning:

I wasn't ready. Jesus passed right in front of me, and I knew it. I knew it and I looked away.

This was the moment for which the Gospel for the first Sunday of Advent cautions us when it says, "Be prepared, for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come."

I liked it; I liked its directness, its immediacy, and the honesty with which the writer admitted missing Jesus because she "wasn't ready." But actually, when I sat down to write my homily, I had forgotten the piece, and was scrambling around, like I often do, to try to articulate what I believed about this particular Sunday gospel. However, it's pretty obvious that the piece affected what I wrote! I didn't realize it at the time, but noticed it on Sunday evening, when I came across the CNS piece again.

Anyway... this is what I came up with. I felt good about it. I love Handel's Messiah, and when I gave the homily I actually sang the initial words, the "Hallelujah" opening from the video referenced below. As I've posted before, I don't have a great voice, but I do love music, and I DO LOVE to sing... and once or twice a year, I'll sing a line or two of something during the homily, when it fits in. I do it just as a way of keeping people alert! And since alertness is a major theme of this gospel, I thought it was appropriate.

First Sunday of Advent (A), 11/28/2010

Good morning. It's a pleasure to begin another Advent season with you. Now that Thanksgiving has passed, the pre-Christmas season is here in earnest at the malls and on TV. Friday was the so-called Black Friday, with shoppers lined up in the early hours of the morning for special sales. A man named JD Dean was the first of 1500 shoppers in line in front of a huge Best Buy store in Myrtle Beach South Carolina -- he camped out starting last Wednesday for the store opening on Friday, as he has for the past three years. He said he didn't even know what was going to be on sale. Isn't that wild? It can be a very crazy season, and I'm sure you'll notice your own examples of crazy things during this Advent season.

But yesterday I came across a video of something much more amazing. On a Saturday just two weeks ago, during a noisy, busy lunchtime in the food court of a Canadian shopping mall near Niagara Falls, a young woman suddenly stood up and began to sing the Halleluiah chorus from Handel's Messiah. "Halleluiah! Halleluiah! Halleluiah! Halleluiah! Hal-le-luiah!" The woman had a brilliant voice (much better than mine!), and she caught the attention of everyone around her. And no sooner had she finished those few words, than several tables away, someone else, a young man, also stood up and sang – "Halleluiah!" And one by one, and in small groups, people all over the food court began singing along. For five minutes, the crowd of shoppers was stunned, captivated by the unexpected beauty and joy that cascaded all around them. All ordinary activity was suddenly suspended; even little children stood up on their seats in wonder, their parents holding their hands and savoring what certainly will forever be a priceless memory. It was an unexpected awakening to joy in the midst of the mind-numbing experience that shopping often is.

Today is the beginning of Advent. And while the world around us will get ever more hectic, it is important to remember what this season is all about -- and it is of course about more than shopping, and it is even about more than the celebration of an event that took place 2000 years ago. In our gospel today as we begin Advent, Jesus is telling us to stay awake! His emphasis is on preparation and expectation; his coming will be a repeat performance of what happened in the days of Noah. In other words, many people are NOT going to be expecting his coming, they will be doing the usual things that people do, and will be lulled into a fatal sleep. "But you," He says, "YOU must be prepared, for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come."

I want us to try to hear what Jesus was saying in a way that will have some real meaning for our own lives this Advent. Obviously he was telling his disciples two things: one, that he was coming again; and two, that they should expect him at any and every moment.

Now, how many of us do that? If we were to take a vote today, I think I know how it would turn out. If I were to ask how many of you believe that Christ is coming again, the vote would be overwhelming, maybe unanimous. Our Christian faith teaches that Christ will someday come again, although most of us probably believe that in a general sort of a way. But if I were to ask how many of you expect his coming TODAY....that would be another matter. I seriously doubt that anyone here expects the coming of Christ today, in the sense that we usually interpret that.

You know what we expect today? Most of us probably expect a typical Sunday afternoon. We will go home for lunch, then perhaps go out for a little shopping, or sit down to watch a football game, or maybe read a book, or get on our computer. We may get together with friends or relatives. We may have chores, or homework. We probably expect to go to bed at a usual time, and get up tomorrow morning.

In all honesty, isn't that or something like that what most of us expect? And in all probability, that IS what most of us are going to do. Does it mean that we are disobeying Christ by planning and living our lives in a normal, daily fashion? Not at all. I do not believe that Jesus was telling his first disciples to be constantly expecting the "end of the world," though that is what is "future coming" means in the minds of many people. A lot of people associate the Second Coming with the end of the world, and the end of everyday life as we know it.

And they are not wrong, exactly...but this morning I encourage you to understand Advent in a way that has meaning for our life here and now. The coming of Jesus into the world should be something more than a memory of the past 2000 years ago, or a distant hope somewhere in the general future. For you and for me, it should be a present reality. Not just history or prophesy, but personal experience -- that is what the coming of Christ should mean to us.

And I believe THAT is what Jesus was telling his disciples. He said, "The Son of Man is coming at the time you least expect him." Okay, when do we least expect him? Not back in the past; we DO believe that he actually came into the world. Not out in the future; we DO we believe that someday he will visibly, bodily return to the earth.

No, the time that we least expect him is TODAY. So LOOK FOR HIM today, that's when he said he was coming! But don't look for him in the clouds. He is most likely to be found among those who need him. Look for him on the streets, among the homeless. Look for him by the bed of a sick friend. Look for him close by a young person who is in trouble at school, or at home, or with the law. Or look for him in the face of a child -- God's Kingdom belongs to the children. Look for him in the eyes of a beloved spouse -- Christ is alive today in your marriage. To see Jesus, we have to look for him, we have to be alert and notice those around us; we have to expect to see him.

...Especially in this busy, crazy world, and this busy, crazy season that is now upon us. Jesus does not often arrive in a few glorious moments of serendipity that joyfully break into our consciousness, like hearing Handel's Messiah in a shopping mall. To develop the ability to see Jesus, we probably need to better cultivate a sense of silence. Silence is something that modern culture does NOT lift up as a value -- that's why we aren't as good about it as we should be. Silence will be particularly difficult in our culture over the next few weeks.

But silence IS something that we are good at here, in this place. Advent is the perfect prescription for the busy-ness of our lives. And our Eucharist is all about being aware of the presence of Jesus.
Deacon Denny Duffell

A Ticking Time Bomb

2010-11-18T15:17:00.000-08:00

I have a couple of feeds from the National Catholic Reporter, and read them regularly. One good little article today comes from Sr. Joan Chittister, and you can read it HERE.

Sr. Joan is talking about Canon 212, which gives laity "the right and the responsibility to make known to their pastors their needs." She tells of a couple who got very upset at a homily given by their pastor on the occasion of a new ordination in their diocese, and his advice to the newly ordained. “I told him to remember that his duty was to serve God,” the pastor said, “not the people.” The couple went home and "wrote a letter to the pastor in which they defined their own top 10 suggestions for newly-ordained priests."

Their suggestions:

1. Reread annually a summary of the second Vatican Council reforms.
2. Commit yourself to interfaith bridge building.
3. Be open to a changing position of the church on gays and women.
4. Learn more in the first four years of your priesthood than you did in the recent [seminary trainings].
5. Prepare your homilies with one hand on the Bible and the other on (with) the daily newspaper.
6. Work with people rather than imposing a top-down strategy.
7. Respect the role of the laity in an evolving Church.
8. Build upon personal spirituality by a growing concern for social justice.
9. Store your seminary notes in an inaccessible place.
10. Remember that an unquestioning “company man” in all professions, even the priesthood, sacrifices creative energy.

The pastor's advice wasn't really all that bad, but I did like theirs better. I think most of us assume it's very possible to serve God AND serve God's people. In fact, from the way I read the gospel, most of the time Jesus taught that the way to serve God was BY serving God's people.

The Cost of What We Believe

2010-11-10T11:48:00.000-08:00

It was once again my turn, this past weekend, to give the homily at St. Bridget. It also happened that this weekend was "Stewardship Commitment Sunday," which usually means that the homilist devotes some or all of the homily time weaving together the theme of the scriptures with the theme of Stewardship. Stewardship is not really about "fundraising" -- it's about approaching life with the attitude of a disciple, so that God's blessings to us will be offered for God's purposes.

The First Reading was from the 7th Chapter of Maccabees, which tells the story of a widow with seven sons, all who suffer severe torture and death rather than break God's laws. It's hard to think of greater cost ... and I imagine that those who have suffered so terribly for what they believed would think that our "burden" of being generous is a pretty light load to carry. Here it is:

32nd Sunday of Ordinary Time, C; Stewardship Sunday

Good morning! It’s a pleasure to be with you once again, and share a few thoughts. As Fr. Tim announced last week, this is Stewardship Pledge Weekend (Sunday), and you should have received this past week a parish mailing with a letter from Fr. Tim, and your Stewardship Pledge Card. I hope you brought your own card with you to turn in, later today, but if not, there are extra cards in all of the pews.

Today’s Gospel and our First Reading both revolve around a woman and seven brothers who die. Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ve ever had much interest in today’s gospel reading about the wife with seven successive brothers as her husbands, because it’s an archaic theological point that’s being used by the Sadducees to trap Jesus. If you dig more deeply into the reality that Jewish men of that time considered their wives to be their property, then the question of whose wife she would be in heaven becomes more interesting; but really, I don’t think most of us consider this question to be very important.

However, our First Reading, I think, is very interesting. It’s not for us the importance of the dietary law against eating pork that the seven brothers all refuse to break That’s not a law that is important to us 21st Century Christians. What is very moving though, to me, is that all seven of these brothers, one by one, endure horrible torture and death. They hold fast to the end, true unto death, to their God, trusting that God will be faithful to them, and to their people. The passage quoted in the today’s Lectionary is too tame! The bishops who shortened this Scripture for our Sunday reading cut out the R-rated parts. In the actual passage, the executioners cut off the tongue of the first son, who had spoken up for the others, then scalped him and cut off his hands and feet, and then they carried him over and fried him alive in a pan. And they forced his brother and mother to watch all this; but that backfired, because the other family members encouraged one another in faith, saying things like “Our God sees us, and he will strengthen us!”

The 7th chapter of Maccabees describes the death of each one of these seven brothers. Most amazing of all, I think, is the final brother, the youngest one, because the king was finally getting desperate to break someone, and so under oath he offered the final brother riches and happiness, even high office, if he would only abandon his God and his customs. And when the young man refused, the king appealed to the mother, to advise her son to save his life. And finally, the mother went through the motions of persuading him, and said “Son, have pity on me, who carried you in my womb for nine months, nursed you for three years, brought you up, educated and supported you to your present age.” And then she said, “Do not be afraid of this executioner, but be worthy of your brothers and accept death, so that in the time of mercy I may receive you again with them!” And with that, the son said “What are you waiting for! I will not obey the king’s command! Like my brothers, I offer up my body and my life, and implore God to show favor and mercy to our people, and by afflictions and blows make you confess that Yahweh alone is God!” And at that, Maccabees tells us, “The king became enraged and treated him even worse than the others. Thus he too died undefiled, putting all his trust in the Lord. And the mother was the last to die, after her sons.”

I don’t know about you, but I want to trust in the Lord with that kind of heart and faith. I want to be guided by that kind of trust in God in every area of my life. And I can’t help thinking after considering this scripture on this particular Sunday, that filling out a Stewardship card and making a generous and faith-filled pledge, is really a pretty easy and small thing compared to that.

I hope you read the letter that Fr. Tim sent with your card. If you didn’t please go home today and read it right away, as soon as you get home. Especially read the paragraph at the top of the second page. We’re facing difficult choices here at St. Bridget, choices that go right to the core of our mission as a parish. This year’s Stewardship pledge is really about these kinds of things: Are we going to continue to support our liturgies – having three Masses, trained ministers, and good music? Are we going to continue to support parochial education? Are we going to continue our pastoral outreach to Children’s Hospital, and pastoral outreach to our parishioners? Are we going to continue to support our Sacramental Education and Formation for children, families, adults? Are we going to continue to support an active Youth Ministry program, which we have for over 20 years? Do we want to continue to have a parish office open, and maintain a parish center available for parish use? And are we going to continue to offer the support that makes most of our parish Outreach efforts possible?

Fr. Tim says in his letter that Stewardship is not about responding to a crisis. All of us in the parish leadership know that, and so we’ve been reluctant to talk about our situation as a crisis. Perhaps we should be alarmists, but we would rather that all of us look at our lives, the gifts we’ve been given by God, everything we are and everything we have, all that God has done for us, and then respond from THAT place. For me, I’m so thankful I don’t face the choices and situations that so many others face – people who are homeless, or jobless, or with sick young ones down at Children’s. I’m grateful for my continued health, for my family, for my faith and for my parish community. And I’m so glad I don’t face the kind of injustice and persecution that the mother and her seven sons endured in our scripture today, and I do long to live my life as wholeheartedly and as faithfully as they did. God has abundantly blessed my life, and God has blessed every one of us here, in individual ways. God has been faithful to us. These blessings will guide me as I fill out my Stewardship card today, and I hope they guide you.

I’d like you right now to pick up your Stewardship card. (There are pens in the pews, too.) I don’t want to walk you through every line, but I want to mention a couple of things, and then we’ll give you a few moments to write, or to pray and consider, and then write.

First, turn to the back of the card (Stewardship of Treasure: Taking a Step). There’s a little chart there -- you know you approximate annual gross income, and I know those of you who gross over $100,000 a year know how to figure those numbers for your income. We’ve always encouraged givers over time to make steps toward eventually making a tithe of ten percent, 5% to their parish community and 5% to other charities. There’s also a place to make payments by Electronic Fund Transfers or by credit card. On the front of the card (Parish Stewardship of Treasure) -- there are spaces to fill in your name, address, phone, and e-mail – please write those even if you think we already have them. And finally, there’s a place for the amount of your pledge, whether it’s weekly, monthly, or something else.

Finally, I want to thank you in advance for everything that you and so many others have done, over the years, to make this a wonderful parish. I love being here at St. Bridget. But even more, I love you all of you – those of you I know well, and those of you I see less often. God bless you all.

Deacon Denny Duffell
November 7, 2010

"Killing the Blues," by Chris Smither

2010-10-20T17:25:00.000-07:00

Usually when I'm in the car, I'm listening to music, and usually singing along to it too. The artists are all over the map, but there's a lot of folk music.

Chris Smither is a really good musician, and I like this song, although in this You-Tube version it is hard to understand the words:

Killing the Blues

Leaves were falling, just like embers.
In colors, red and gold, to set us on fire.
Just like moonbeams in our eyes.

Somebody said they saw me
Swingin' the world by the tail,
Jumpin' over a white cloud,
Killing the blues.

I'm guilty of somethin'
I hope you never do, 'cause nothin' is sadder
Than losin' yourself in love

Somebody said they saw me
Swingin' the world by the tail,
Jumpin' over a white cloud,
Killing the blues.

When you asked me just to leave you,
And set out on my own, to find what I needed
You asked me to find what I already had.

Someone said they saw me
Swingin' the world by the tail,
Bouncin' over a white cloud,
Killing the blues.
I was killing the blues.

Someone said they saw me
Swingin' the world by the tail,
Bouncin' over a white cloud,
Killing the blues.
I was killing the blues.
Just killing the blues.

Persistence, for Justice

2010-10-18T15:36:00.000-07:00

I haven't been blogging very much lately, but it's not because I haven't had anything to write about or because I haven't thought about it. I've been running full throttle for about two months! It's not awful, it's full and rewarding...but I haven't had much chance to write things down. And my blog, unfortunately, is just a bit lower priority.

At least I have something today: my homily from the weekend. I knew for at least six weeks that I would be preaching this weekend...in fact, I ASKED for this weekend, to fit in with our Social Justice Commission's desire to kick off an eight-month campaign to let our parishioners know what our Church teaches on immigration. I've always liked this gospel (the parable of the widow pestering the corrupt judge for her rights) ... America magazine had a nice little write-up about the judge as being AFRAID of the widow, because she was so courageous and persistent.

Anyway, here's the homily. I'd welcome your comments.

29th Sunday of Ordinary Time (C), October 17, 2010

I don’t know how many of you still get the morning Seattle Times, but I do; and I couldn’t help sitting up straight when I read an article two weeks ago entitled “Many Americans Know Little About Religion.” It came from a survey just released by the Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life, which surveyed 3,400 people with 32 questions over seven topics. Among the findings of the survey was one about the Catholics who took the survey, which said that nearly half of them did not know that their Church teaches that the bread and wine in Communion actually become the Body and Blood of Christ. That didn’t say that nearly half (45%) didn’t believe it, which would be another matter; it said that nearly half did not know that our Church teaches that!

I don’t know if that surprises you, but that surprised me. (Maybe I need to get out more!) But the Eucharist is not going to be the subject of my homily today – maybe that subject is one for Holy Thursday, or even better, the feast Corpus Christi, when the scriptures and feasts lead us into a consideration of what the Eucharist means for us as followers of Jesus. Suffice it to say that our Church has always believed that Jesus is really present in the Eucharist; that didn’t change with Vatican II! However… today’s scripture leads somewhere else. We’ll get to that in a second, but that article in the Times did make me ask the questions, “What else don’t we know, as followers of Jesus?” and, perhaps, “Why don’t we know it?”

Today’s parable is actually pretty easy to follow. We have a corrupt judge, and a widow who is seeking justice. And despite the fact that this judge doesn’t care at all about God or justice, and certainly not about this widow or her case, she keeps at it so persistently that he finally turns around to deliver a just decision for her.

This parable is about praying always; it’s about persistence in our prayer. But it’s also clearly about something else – it’s about justice. Justice is the driving force of the widow’s persistence. The widow’s plea is for the judge to “render a just decision.” It doesn’t say, “a favorable decision,” but “a just decision.” The judge finally agrees: “Because she keeps bothering me I shall deliver a just decision for her.” And Jesus sums it up by asking “Will not God then secure the rights [in justice] of his chosen ones?” And then Jesus answers his own question, saying “God will see to it that justice is done for them.”

Justice… Our scriptures – both the Hebrew scriptures and the Gospels – consistently depict our God as a God of justice, a God who loves the poor, the outcast, the oppressed. These are God’s anawim, a Hebrew word for “the poor seeking God for deliverance.” In Deuteronomy 24, from the Torah, God says “You shall not violate the rights of the orphan, the widow, or the alien,” alien meaning foreigner or immigrant. Inscribed in our beautiful stained glass here at St. Bridget are words from Isaiah 58, that were chosen to provide a theme for the whole work, words for our parish of St. Bridget to live by: “(This is the kind of fast I wish…) Share your bread with the hungry and shelter the homeless poor… Give relief to the oppressed. Then your light will shine like the dawn, and your wound will be healed.” Justice is the reason St. Bridget has had on its wall in our hall, the Seven Foundations of Catholic Social Teaching, and why our Church teaches that we should have a Preferential Option for the Poor, should choose on behalf of the poor.

And yet, while we might know these things on one level, Catholic Social Teaching is often called “the Church’s best kept secret.” Not because it’s secret! It’s because it’s a set of inconvenient truths – inconvenient because justice upsets an order based on wealth and privilege, and the pursuit of justice causes controversy. And controversy gives us plenty of excuse to close our eyes and ears and cling to what’s close and comfortable for us. It was the same in Old Testament times. It was the same in Jesus’ time. It is true today.

In our country today there’s plenty of controversy. There’s a lot of noise, especially political noise! And frankly I hate today’s political climate; it provides the perfect cover for both parties to appeal to their base without really getting anything done. There was an old Catholic worker saying many years ago that said, “Don’t vote -- it only encourages them.” I don’t believe that, but boy I sure feel the sentiment!

But now you might also see why I asked the questions a moment ago, “What else don’t we know, as followers of Jesus, and why don’t we know it?” There are all kinds of reasons that we might not know very much about our rich faith traditions of justice. For instance, did you know that for years, our Church has laid out a vision for justice for immigrants…a vision based on scripture and universal teachings of justice, but tailored to our American situation? In fact, several years ago, President Bush proposed comprehensive immigration legislation that modeled much of that vision… but it never went anywhere. President Obama, who won a huge majority of the Latino vote in 2008, promised to address this issue… but the political climate is even worse now than it was several years ago, and he hasn’t really even tried seriously yet. In face, detentions and deportations have intensified.

And in the midst of all this, I suspect that most of us don’t even know that the Catholic Church has teachings and recommendations about immigration, much less what they might be. The teachings are rooted in first-hand knowledge of the immigrant and their situation, because our Church is right on the front lines with this issue. And those teaching flow from the belief that individuals have a God-given right to migrate, especially to avoid persecution, or war, or calamity, but also in search of opportunities for a decent life for themselves and their families. Nations have a right to secure borders, but those must be in balance with the right to migrate. I’ll bet most of you didn’t know that.

Last year, our JustFaith participants spent a day with immigrants who shared their personal stories; most of them were what we call “illegal immigrants.” In a word, our parishioners were touched; they were really moved. These folks were not only like us, with families, and the desire to care for them…they also shared our Catholic faith. The word “solidarity” comes to mind – that’s what it means. So these parishioners prepared a program to present to the parish at large over the next several months; you’ll find an insert in your bulletin today about it, and there’s a table after Mass, with materials and someone you can talk to if you want.

The pursuit of justice requires persistence and prayer. And immigration is only one justice issue we could touch on. They chose it because it touched them, and because most Catholics don’t know our Church teaches about it. They could have chosen Life issues, since this is Respect Life month, or economic justice questions, given our unemployment rate around 10%. And maybe they will, next time around.

Finally, our scripture today leaves us with a little zinger, that I’d like to end with. Jesus ends this teaching with a rhetorical question, “When the Son of Man comes (again), will he find faith on earth?” What kind of faith would we have, if we would turn our back on questions of justice for the poor, the widow, the orphan, and the foreigner in our midst?

Deacon Denny Duffell
St. Bridget Parish

Not One to Knuckle Under...

2010-10-08T16:17:00.001-07:00

Well, it's been a long week and I'm tired; but even so, this article in the National Catholic Reporter energized me.

Apparently Fr. Michael Tegeder of St. Edward Parish in Bloomington, Minnesota has publicly challenged his superior, Archbishop Nienstedt! At issue is an 18-minute DVD from the bishop, sent to more than 400,000 Catholics, about the issue of gay marriage. The DVD calls for a constitutional amendment banning gay marriage... BUT THERE'S NO SUCH AMENDMENT CURRENTLY ON THE BALLOT IN MINNESOTA! In fact, the Minnesota constitution defines marriage as "between one man and one woman." What there IS in Minnesota are three gubernatorial candidates...two of whom support gay marriage and one of whom does not. PLUS...the DVD was paid for by an "anonymous donor."

You can read a lot more about this from MPR's story, which includes a couple of slides, an interview of the Archbishop about the DVD, and some footage from it.

Oh: full disclosure, here ... I'm a long-time card-carrying member of the Knights of Columbus, which produced the DVD. Not that I voted for the project.

I have a long-time Jesuit friend who once said that reading the NCR is like going to the circus... he always made a batch of popcorn before he sat down to enjoy it. In one ring, you see the acrobats and tightrope walkers... in another, you might see a bunch of monkeys. Oh, and here comes the clown...

Kidding aside, I love my Church, but I happen to agree with Fr. Tegeder, not his archbishop.

Tragic Deaths

2010-10-04T17:38:00.000-07:00

I just wanted to comment on the situation at Seattle Children's Hospital over the past week or so. My Seattle friends know what this is about: a couple of children have died there in a sad way recently, and accounts of the deaths have hit the news media. (Children's has not tried to hide what happened, despite any innuendos by some to the contrary.) One death was apparently due to an accidental overdose (a miscalculation). Another child died when a nurse administered medication during a transport, without the orders of a licensed prescriber. The details of that second death are not yet public and the exact cause of the death was undetermined as of a couple of days ago; they are still investigating. However, administering medicine in that case was still against protocol, which the hospital has admitted freely.

As sad as the death of any child always is, these two particular deaths have rocked the hospital. I know some medical people feel that they could also have made a similar mistake, in calculation or even in judgment. I really feel for the doctors and nurses whose work and competence are suddenly under a lot of suspicion and scrutiny. They are exceptional people, and exceptional professionals. However, there is no one who never makes a mistake, and for it to be a fatal one is their worst nightmare.

What is also sad, I think, is that we will suddenly see murkily implied improprieties (see story reported here). There are often things that happen for which there is no human error involved, and for which there is no good answer to that nagging question "Why?"

The Enterprising Steward?

2010-09-20T18:39:00.001-07:00

This homily came out of nowhere. I've always disliked this particular gospel, and was NOT going to speak on it. I really WAS going to speak on the words of Amos, the fiery prophet. But I researched the gospel, did some reading... and came up with this. It's obviously what I really believe...

25th Sunday, C, September 19, 2010

I had a very strong temptation today to speak about our 1st Reading, from the prophet Amos. First of all, I love Amos – he’s a very forceful prophet, strong and vocal on behalf of social justice and the poor. And on top of that, this Sunday is our annual Elephant Stampede, and Fr. Phillip here is a very visible reminder of our friends in Malawi, who really need our support. Instead, though, I’ll stick with our gospel, in which Jesus speaks about the Christian life, which of course certainly includes justice, service, and outreach to those in need.

Today's gospel parable has to be the strangest story that Jesus ever told. We hear the story of a man who is about to be dismissed from his place of responsibility. The reason given for his dismissal is irresponsibility, may even outright embezzlement. But before his dismissal becomes generally known, he gets busy collecting his master's receivable accounts at a reduced rate. One man owed for a hundred measures of oil...he settles with him for the price of fifty. Another man owed for a hundred measures of wheat...he settles with him for eighty. His reason for doing this was to secure his own future. He wanted those debtors to feel friendly toward him after he lost his job.

And so the parable ends with the man's employer commending him for his resourcefulness! And then Jesus applies the parable by saying, "The children of this world are wiser in their own generation than the children of light." What’s going on here?

Well, it's obvious that Jesus was not praising the man's dishonesty. He simply comments that the children of this world are sometimes wiser than the children of the light. So it seems to me that he is talking about applying wisdom to our faith. He is saying that you and I can learn some lessons from this tragically dishonest man, that he showed some signs of wisdom that we could use. What might they be?

The first thing I see is that his actions were consistent with his purpose. His purpose was money. His immediate and number one concern was to insure and secure his own financial future. Now, of course it's obvious that his purpose was too small -- too short-sighted. There is nothing wrong with financial security...but when money becomes supreme, when economic considerations overshadow everything else, then life is sadly cheapened. Too many valuable things are sacrificed along the way.

This was the nature of the man's commitment. He wanted financial security, and he was willing to sacrifice anything, including his own integrity, to get it. He really is a tragic figure; but at least his actions were consistent with his purpose, and there is an earthly kind of wisdom to that.

Jesus, however, points out that often the children of light are often not so wise. Our stated purposes are certainly much more noble. Financial security is not despised, but neither is it supreme. Greater than the desire for money is the desire to be Christian men and women, disciples of Jesus. We want character that is strong, hearts that are compassionate and caring, minds that are active, alert, and attuned to the things of God.

These are the aspirations and desires that are part of our Christian calling. And we are here because we want to be Christian men and women in the most genuine sense of the word, aren't we? That is what we affirm...but perhaps each of us could ask ourselves what actions we take to pursue those goals? Hey, that steward didn't just sit around, he called in all those creditors, he made deals! How rigorous and disciplined are we as Christians? Do we set aside a dedicated time to pray, to commune with God, every day? Do we worship regularly within our community, and with our whole being? How decisive are we as Christians, how willing are we to risk ourselves for the Lord...whether it's to risk our time and say, yes, I’m going to take responsibility for building the Kingdom of God around me. I'm going to give a half a day a week to cooking at the soup kitchen, or taking Communion to the sick, or visiting prisoners at the jail....or to risk my comfort or finances by committing to a 10% tithe, 5% to our community and 5% to other charities, people in need – those here close to us, and those on the other side of the world, in places like Malawi.

I know plenty of people -- you do too -- in fact, some of you know this applies to you... who work 50 or 60 hours a week for a financial livelihood, to secure a financial future. How hard do we work for our spiritual livelihoods, to secure our spiritual future? Jesus is saying we should apply our wisdom to our faith. If we wish to arrive in a certain city, we have to travel the road or catch the plane that goes there. If we wish to be genuinely Christian, then our actions must be consistent with our purpose. We must give ourselves daily to the kind of living that builds that kind of character.

Jesus summarized his appeal with these words: "No man can serve two masters. You cannot give yourself to both God and money." The man in our story recognized the truth of that. His goal was money, and so he gave himself wholeheartedly to it. You and I need to practice the same kind of consistency. Our goal is godliness... so we should give ourselves wholeheartedly to God.

Our steward in our parable had at least one other piece of wisdom that we would do well to notice, and apply to our lives. He did not have forever, and he knew it. His notice of termination had already been given. Every time he walked across a field, he knew him might not every pass that way again. Every time he talked with a tenant he was aware that he had to take advantage of that opportunity then, for it quite likely would never return again. He was facing a certain deadline, and he pursued his business with a sense of urgency.

You and I can learn a lesson from that... because we too live with a time limit. Our stewardship is also drawing to a close. Our response to this truth should not be with a spirit of desperation; but it should be with a sense of urgency.

These days and these years are priceless. Once they are gone, we can never call them back. And so the very essence of wisdom is to live this day with eagerness, to invest ourselves in love and service and friendship and commitment and generosity to others, things that we can keep for all eternity. This, I think, is what Jesus meant when he said, "Make friends for yourself through the use of this world's goods, so when they fail you, a lasting reception will be yours."

Deacon Denny Duffell

Inviting the Poor to Dinner

2010-08-30T12:10:00.000-07:00

It occasionally happens that I have an inspiration for a homily the very first time I read the scriptures for that Sunday. In this case, the gospel (Luke 14: 1,7-14) immediately reminded me of the person I describe below, which naturally led into the suggestions I talked about afterwards. That didn't keep me from sweating & straining to get the words down, but that's just the limitation of the homilist showing itself...

22nd Sunday, Ordinary Time C, August 29, 2010

When I first read today's gospel I couldn't help but think of a former parishioner of ours, a lady by the name of Maggie McKenna. How many of you remember Maggie? If you're as old as I am you might remember a regular Readers' Digest feature called "The Most Unforgettable Character I Have Ever Met." Well, if I had to choose a "most unforgettable character," that person might well be Maggie McKenna. I told Maggie once that once that she was a character, and she just laughed and laughed, because you see, she knew she was a character, and a rather unpredictable one at that. I don't have time to regale you with Maggie stories, but I do want to tell you why today's gospel reminded me of her.

You see, every once in a while, Maggie would host a dinner at her house, in some ways like the dinner in our gospel today (and in some ways different). I had the memorable experience of being there for a few of those dinners. You never knew what you were going to eat, or when, except that you could be sure it wasn't going to be right away. I know that one time I even arrived and found out I was supposed to cook! That's a true story; Maggie had a whole platter of steaks -- I don't know where or how she got them, because she didn't have much money -- but I wound up cooking them all on a small grill just outside the back door. And there would usually be anywhere from 15 to 30 people at her dinners, a fair number of them parishioners. Sadly, I know she often invited parishioners who did not come, but then ... Maggie was a bit of a character, as I said.

But what always intrigued me was that at Maggie's dinners there would also be other invited guests that Maggie had just met somewhere. You see, Maggie was not one to care about class. Once I met a street musician at one of her parties…once, a clerk from a used book store…once, a handicapped person in a wheelchair. Often people were a bit oddly dressed. It was clear that Maggie made friends in unusual places. We would all introduce ourselves, socialize, enjoy our meal, and afterwards Maggie always wanted her guests to play some crazy parlor game together. What an experience! And always lively.

So here's the question: how much of our life revolves around what is comfortable and familiar to us? How often do we really do what Jesus said, and invite the poor, the outcast, the lame directly into our lives? The invitation in today's gospel is not an isolated one, we all know that. You remember that Last Judgment scene near the end of Matthew's gospel, when the king separates the nations on his right and his left, because when we feed the hungry or tend the sick or house the homeless or visit the prisoner... we encounter Jesus. In a couple of weeks we'll hear again the story of the rich man and the beggar Lazarus, and how throughout the rich man's whole life, Lazarus lived on his doorstep, but he never paid him much attention. And over time a great chasm grew between himself and Lazarus; only, Lazarus wound up close to God heart, and so the rich man found himself separated from God by that same great chasm.

How do we include the poor in our lives? That's the question. It is not so easy, because life is so segregated -- we don't live in Africa, or in Jonestown, Mississippi, or in a homeless shelter. But besides that, it seems too often that our lives are full already. If we're young, we have school, or we're deciding who we are or what we want to become. If we're a little older, it seems we're busy enough with our own marriage, our children, our careers, our parents. If we're still older, well, we have grandchildren, or health issues. But Jesus calls us to invite the poor into our lives nonetheless, to live in Solidarity -- that's a great Catholic word. It's not just about eternal life, it's really about the fullness of life right here on earth, right now. So I'd like to suggest a few answers, and those suggestions might inspire you to find what works for you.

My first suggestion is to do something that "breaks the mold" in your life. One of those things is something I'm recruiting for right now, called JustFaith. Some of you got invitation letters or calls about it, and it's been in the bulletin. Quite simply, the participants in JustFaith read and discuss books together about poverty, or racism, or violence, or a more simple lifestyle... and look at videos together, listen to guest speakers, take field trips where we meet and talk with the homeless, the poor, the immigrant... and we pray about it all together, as a small faith community. It's like an extended retreat. Sometimes to make deep changes, we need deep experiences. How often do we try to break the mold?

My second suggestion is to do something that brings you in regular personal contact with the poor. I know we have a lot of parishioners that regularly provide food for the hungry -- parishioners cook for the Orion Center, our St. Vincent de Paul visits families, we have a group of ladies once a week who make sandwiches for the Francis House...but some of these efforts need more help. Cay McVicar, one of our Sacred Heart Shelter coordinators, contacted me this past week and said they needed another coordinator for the Sacred Heart Shelter meals, and they also just need more people to help provide the meals. Whatever it is … find something that will enable you to regularly make personal contact with the poor, to talk with them, to understand their lives, to let those lives touch yours.

Finally, do something important for a particular person in need. I'd like to make a little plug for our friends in Namitembo, and for this year's Elephant Stampede. I actually think this year's Stampede needs help. I also felt that I needed to take my own advice here, to figure out what else I could do to connect with the poor. So I would like to announce today that I'm “coming out of retirement!” In spite of the 25 pounds I've put on since I had knee surgery & gave up running a couple of years ago... well, I made a commitment several weeks ago to start training again, to run in this year's Stampede. And IT’S HARD! Much harder than I thought it would be. But I’d like you to join me, first by coming to the Stampede and seeing if I can make it across the finish line! But I’m also making a general appeal to the parish -- for parishioners or families or classes at either of our schools -- to sponsor me in the Stampede by joining me in sponsoring a student in the Trade School. These students already pay tuition -- this would be for the unmet costs of that education. Pick one individual student -- we'll show you the student's picture, what they're taking... and you can change that one individual student's life by giving that student a skill. You can find one of these brochures on our “Sponsor a Student” idea on the table after Mass.

Or ... do none of these things. But heed today's gospel! Do something to personally connect your life, & your family's life, with the poor, the lame, the sick, the prisoner, or the immigrant. Trust me -- it will make bring your life so much more abundance.

Deacon Denny Duffell

Still Gasping...

2010-08-23T12:49:00.000-07:00

OK -- the total for today was 2.8 miles jogging, broken into 4 segments, with walking in between. I know, that doesn't sound very hard... but it's REALLY tough... I need to trick myself constantly, as in "just go two more blocks, then you can quit" and then "just go 5 more blocks and then decide," & all the while my lungs & heart alternate between whimpering and screaming. AARGH!

I'm glad I don't have a photo of how this looks, because I'm sure it's not pretty! I'm sure I look really old and out of shape... But I do keep thinking about September 19th and the Elephant Stampede. And I think of the Trade School dedication in April, which keeps me going. Here are a couple of pictures of that event, and a short, 40 second clip...

This is a shot at the main Administrative block:

This is a picture of Fr. Phillip Mumbulu, who will be our honored guest at this year's Elephant Stampede. In this shot he's assisting the Malawi Minister of Education, who came to Namitembo for the dedication.

And now here's the short video to give you a flavor of the event:

Ahh, after I remember that, something perverse in me says that I'll feel really good about this once it's all over. I sure HOPE so.

On the Run

2010-08-21T13:57:00.000-07:00

Ok, I think I'm ready to post on this.

A few weeks ago, I decided I wanted to try jogging again. What got me going, besides a growing dissatisfaction with the condition my body is in, was the realization that this year's Elephant Stampede at St. Bridget needs some kind of "shot in the arm" in order to make it, financially.

The Elephant Stampede is a parish 5K walk/run and picnic for our sister parish in Namitembo, Malawi. It's been an annual event since 1997, and we've raised lots of money and lots of awareness on behalf of our friends there. We've raised funds to build teacher housing & elementary school classrooms for 7 different elementary schools, renovate one high school and build another from scratch, and we have just completed construction of the Namitembo Trade and Agriculture School in April. We've purchased vehicles and other kinds of equipment, helped with three famine/food shortages, and more. Two parish families have even started ambitious agricultural projects on their own within the Namitembo area, and several others have quietly assisted "penpals." Every year we host a visitor or two from Namitembo, and we've had maybe 75 visitors go over there from St. Bridget, many of them multiple visits (I've been there 5 times). Some of us have stayed... Ann and Chet Nachtigal stayed for four months, and my son John stayed for two and a half years.

Our two communities are truly sisters...and they're the elder sister, having celebrated their 50 year anniversary about 6 years ago (St. Bridget is a comparative youngster at a mere 42 years old). There are several different articles on our parish web page -- HERE.

So, what's this about my running? After 13 years, and with the pressure of the financial slowdown, the Stampede needs a boost. So I've decided to try to get in shape, and ask friends, family, and parishioners to sponsor me by "sponsoring a student" in the Trade School. The cost to sponsor a student is about $350 -- the unmet per student operating cost of the Namitembo Trade and Agriculture School. An individual or family can raise or donate that amount themselves, or partner with someone else. For this amount, a student will learn a skill that will enable him/her to get an actual income-producing job. This is HUGE if you live in rural Malawi!

So... between now and September 19th, I'll be chugging away, getting ready, 3-5 times a week, pushing my extra weight and my extra years... so won't you help me? See that guy with the megaphone (last year's Stampede) -- get him out on the trail!

Another Vatican Disconnect

2010-08-17T12:39:00.001-07:00

I was away last week to Priest Lake, Idaho, on an annual camping trip and family reunion. It was beautiful, really, even though we had to endure a nightly worry -- bears coming down into the campgrounds to forage for food and garbage. Worse, there was one camper across the road from us who shot off his gun a couple of times to scare one away. (It was a "retired sheriff" -- which shows you that even professionals can be stupid. The bears were indeed scary, but not as scary as someone nearby shooting off a gun in the dark.)

I managed to get my morning newspaper fix, even if it was only the Spokane daily paper, and I had to race up to the camp store early, before copies ran out. I kept up on the Seattle Mariner's progress (ok, that was a totally inaccurate word) and worked on my daily crossword puzzle. However, one item that caught my eye was a short little notice that the Vatican had declined the resignations of two Irish bishops, who had submitted them last December because of their publicized failures to deal with the priest sexual abuse situation in their dioceses.

I actually was surprised -- two other Irish bishops had already stepped down last November. Why not these? More, though, I was stunned, and angry. But I managed to hold off sharing this news with any other family members ... I didn't want to set off a "group rant" within the family -- which is unfortunately something that happens all too often with us Catholics these days, when we see news like this.

When I got back home, I sought out a broader perspective, so I looked up my favorite Vatican correspondent, NCR columnist John Allen, who writes a column called All Things Catholic. He indeed had posted on this story, last Friday, and you can read his entire column here.

Allen cites four likely reasons for the Vatican's refusal to accept the latest two resignations, and I found the fourth reason the most interesting:

"Fourth, and perhaps most fundamentally, the Vatican does not like the idea of a bishop resigning for poor performance because, in their view, it's bad theology. As they see it, a bishop isn't a corporate CEO or a football coach, who should be sacked when profits sag or the team goes on a losing streak. The episcopacy isn't a job but a sacramental bond akin to marriage, with the bishop as the father of the diocesan family. In the early centuries of the church, it was considered almost heretical for a bishop to move from one diocese to another on precisely this basis.

"That's the core ecclesiological reason Rome favors a bishop staying put in times of crisis: Like a father, or so the traditional reasoning goes, a bishop shouldn't abandon his family if he's let them down and they're feeling angry and betrayed. Instead, he should 'man up' and make things right."

Allen does go on to add this qualifying note:

"Of course, none of this means the bias against removing bishops is always correct; even if one accepts the sacramental view, there are times when an abusive father needs to be removed from a household. It does, however, suggest that the Vatican sometimes may have reasons beyond denial or arrogance for being reluctant to act."

Intersting, yes, but only in a somewhat detached sort of way. Of course, Allen doesn't actually know the reasons why the Vatican decided not to accept the resignation. No one does, because the Vatican isn't saying what the reasons are. Which really brings me to my point: isn't there a huge disconnect here? Why can't my Church speak plainly to us about things like this? I certainly hope that El Papa has made it clear to these bishops that he expects them to "man up and make things right," but why does Benedict not say so publicly? Why can we not change the culture of silence on this? In fact, why does he not say this publicly to all the bishops in the world, that he expects bishops to act as "fathers" instead of princes? Beyond the Church expressing public remorse for the thousands of victims of priests, how about public outrage for their enablers? For many of us, THOSE failures have been the greater ones, because they were systemic.

Let's take that "father" analogy a lot further.

A Living Faith

2010-08-17T10:40:00.000-07:00

I haven't written anything on my blog in the last couple of weeks, but I've been busy! Today I'm stuck at home while some workmen are cleaning and re-insulating the crawl space under the house... so it's a good time to add a couple of posts.

This first is the homily from the weekend before this past one. I left town immediately afterwards, to head to Priest Lake, Idaho, for our annual family reunion. It was great fun -- except for the bears, which came into the camp almost every night. THAT was a little scary... one camper across the way even shot off his gun a couple of times one night, to scare them away...only to succeed in scaring all the campers around him.

In any event, this homily was a takeoff on Hebrews 11, which is a really great passage. And of course I had to add a comment on those two short bits from the gospel, which have always been favorites of mine.

Sunday, August 8th, 2010

Good morning. I haven't shared a homily with you since mid-June because I've been away a few weekends -- I miss it!

Today's gospel includes a short piece of wisdom that for me perfectly introduces what I would like to share about today. It is very simple, and it's right at the beginning: "Do not be afraid, my friends, your Father is pleased to give you the Kingdom! Sell your belongings, give to the poor -- for where your treasure is, there also will your heart be." It's very direct, and the message is clear: don't be afraid, trust in God, who has given you everything you have and everything you need; so go ahead and give your treasures to the poor, that way your heart will also be with them. That calls for a leap of faith, doesn't it?

What is so fortuitous is that this little gold nugget of wisdom is placed right next to our second reading, from Hebrews, chapter 11, which is absolutely one of the most classic passages in the Bible, about faith. I urge you to read it over -- it's only about a page and a half: Hebrews, chapter 11. And the particular Christians to which today's words were addressed were in danger of falling away from following Jesus Christ, perhaps because of the rigors of the Christian life. And so this letter reminds them of their great faith heritage -- It reminds them that in the past they had known all kinds of difficulties, even severe persecution -- and they had endured admirably, nobly. And it was a living faith that made this possible.

The actual passage we read today refers primarily just to Abraham and Sarah and their son Isaac, but it also touches on the lives of others -- Jacob, Joseph, and Moses. Finally the passage ends in a rush this way, and I want to read it to you:

“What more shall I say? I have not time to tell of Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, of David and Samuel and the prophets, who by faith closed the mouths of lions, put out raging fires, escaped the devouring sword. Some were tortured but would not accept an easy way out of their torture, so as to receive a better reward. Others endured mockery, scourging, even chains and imprisonment. They were stoned, sawed in two, put to death at sword’s point. The world was not worthy of them.

“Yet all these, though approved because of their great faith, did not receive what had been promised.
For God had foreseen something better ... for us. Namely, the coming of the One who was Promised, the Messiah, our Lord, Jesus Christ.”

I find those to be really stirring words. Think of those generations of people who lived by faith -- simple people as well as kings, servants as well as prophets – living with a faith that was finally complete in Jesus Christ.

Now we could add to that list of faith-filled people today, couldn’t we? For we have the example of Jesus, and 2000 years of Christians who have followed in his footsteps.

We might well start with the first century roll call, with the apostles, the holy women, and the early martyrs, beginning with Stephen, one of the original deacons. We could list all those in the early centuries who braved the many persecutions of those times, being put to death by lions or fire, or by other tortures. We could name the missionaries, who in spite of great hardship spread the gospel all over the earth, beginning with St. Paul himself, the apostle Thomas who went to
India, to Francis Xavier who went to China, to the Jesuit North American martyrs tortured to death by the Iroquois in the mid 1600's, to Mother Cabrini who came to the United States opening orphanages and schools and hospitals, 67 different institutions, who lived and died right across the street at the Villa.

We could remember mystics, or poets, great philosophers and teachers like Augustine and Thomas Aquinas. We could recall those who changed the course of Western Civilization, like Pope Gregory the Great, and as well as those simple beautiful souls who have changed the course of so many hearts, like Francis of Assisi, or Therese, the little flower. And we could end with the soaring souls of the 20th century, people like Thomas Merton, Dorothy Day and Mother Teresa with their love for the poor, Archbishop Oscar Romero who was assassinated as he celebrated Mass with the poor in El Salvador.

These aren’t fairy tales. These are real people. And these are all people who lived by faith. A living faith. As our reading from Hebrews says, “They confessed that they were strangers and foreigners on the earth.” By their lives they were “people who made it clear they were seeking another homeland… a heavenly country.”

This passage stirs me up. Why? It makes me ask, How deep does my own faith go? How deep does yours go? How regularly do we exercise our faith?

You know, too often I think people make faith a compartment in their heads, a little place where beliefs are kept. As in, "I believe in God; I believe in Jesus Christ, true God and true man." But is our “faith” mostly the collected sum of our religious beliefs? I think a living faith is something much more. Or sometimes I think people locate faith in their hearts, the place where trust is kept… an internal resource to turn to in times of doubt or trouble. As in, "Keep the faith, hold on." And certainly faith as trust is important for our lives; but a living faith is more still.

A living faith is a WAY. This way has direction and purpose, not only internal but external too. A living faith is a way of moving, a way of doing. This faith is as much in the hands and feet as it is in the head and heart. Sometimes it's a way that carries risks, sometimes it's even a way that brings us trouble.

But Jesus did not ask people simply to believe something about him, and he didn’t call on them merely to feel good about God in their hearts. Jesus challenged people to follow him. He said those words, “Follow me,” over and over again. “Follow me!” In following him, those first believers came to know him as “the way, the truth, and the life.” Through all these holy people we have invoked today, down through the centuries, Christ’s call reaches right through to our own time and our own place -- to you and me. Don’t we see in all these holy people that a living faith is a way for US to follow as well?

And one final thing. Small, but big. Our gospel today ends with words that I find haunting, and I don't like to be haunted alone, so I'll repeat them to you. "Much will be required of the person entrusted with much, and still more will be expected of the person entrusted with more." I know God has been very generous and gracious to me. How about you? So, what more does God hope for, from us?

Deacon Denny Duffell

Faith Perspectives on Growing Older

2010-07-21T16:37:00.001-07:00

There is no shortage of articles on growing older these days, and the trend will undoubtably continue to grow as we "boomers" hit retirement. I regularly read the AARP "Bulletin," and always find something useful or pertinent for my own life.

However, I just read a simple article on growing older that was almost poetic. It was written by Fr. Patrick Howell, SJ, from whom I had the pleasure of taking a few classes a couple of years ago. The short article was published in the Seattle Times on 7/13, and you can find it in its entirety here.

Fr. Howell is the religious superior of a community of 30 Jesuits, and what makes the article very interesting is that it describes the question of growing older in his community -- 14 of whom are older than 70 years of age. I appreciated the faith-centered questions he touches on in his brief article.

...within my first month as rector, I was at the University of Washington Medical Center with one of our men when he received a diagnosis of terminal pancreatic cancer. He accepted it with great equanimity and a profound spiritual peace. I was moved and edified.

From then on, he and I had many conversations about palliative medicine, hospice care and how long he could continue as a pastor in the Catholic parish he served. He was a planner and an organizer, so before long several parishioners had stepped up to assist him in his final days. The people he had helped now reversed roles and reached out in love and compassion to their pastor....

.................................................................................

...At a Jesuit Superiors Colloquium at Santa Clara two weeks ago, a nurse who works extensively in Jesuit health care in New England suggested five benchmarks for when a man needed to move to one of our province-assisted care facilities, which in our case is located in Spokane. These signposts were: 1) lack of personal hygiene, 2) confusion over medications, 3) falling and instability, 4) increasing frailty, and 5) hoarding.

"Hoarding." Really? The nurse explained that hoarding could take any number of forms: stacking up endless magazines for reading someday, squirreling money away in books or other hidden locations, gobbling down a box of chocolates in one setting, and so forth. It can be a sign of insecurity, emptiness or even depression....

....................................................................................

...Fortunately, our Jesuits are bound together by shared beliefs and a profound grasp of the Jesuit mantra of "seeing God in all things," even in suffering and death. Together we offer emotional, physical and spiritual help. Together we assist, pray for and anoint with blessing a brother in his final moments.

These attitudes which helped my brother Jesuits accept their own mortality are, of course, not unique to us. Trusting in God doesn't eradicate fear of death, but it shifts our focus to the graces received throughout our lives and to the faces of people who have loved us — no matter what. It may help us bring resolution to unfinished business and forgiveness for past injuries. It allows us to live the moment more fully and to accept the vicissitudes of life with grace and humor, despite the seeming indignities that advancing age may bring...

Joan and I had a discussion the other evening that touched on the fact that we're both nearing retirement age... what will soon happen in our lives? How do we want to live out the time we have left? We've spent some time talking about this before in connection with end-of-life questions [in fact, we spent some time filling out a simple and VERY helpful little form that's put together by Aging With Dignity, called Five Wishes., and I highly recommend it]. But end-of-life questions are just part of the continuum of issues that we face when we get older, and a great many of them are also faith questions.

Ordaining Women?

2010-07-14T19:49:00.001-07:00

I must admit that I write about this topic with a bit of trepidation; I have something to lose. But I do not believe this to be an academic topic. Certainly it isn't for me.

Not long ago, on Crystal's blog, a very interesting exchange showed up between Sara Butler and Fr. Robert Egan, SJ., over the question of women's ordination. It's an old exchange, but I missed it when it first occurred. Ms. Butler is a professor of dogmatic theology at St. Joseph's Seminary in New York, and is the author of a book on this topic, "The Catholic Priesthood and Women," in which the author concluded that the Vatican's position deserves our faithful consent. It appears that Fr. Egan does not agree, though he is careful to frame his words as a critique of the position, and he respectfully calls her book "perhaps the fullest and fairest theological treatment we have from those who are opposed to women's ordination."

Crystal's blog (link above) posts the most recent exchange, and also gives a link to Fr. Egan's original criticism, in which he lays out several objections that he feels the Church in general, and the Vatican in particular has not sufficiently addressed. I found this link to be most informative and persuasive, and would recommend it highly.

I don't want to rehash what is already available through the links above. It is an old conversation, and one that is (sadly) "officially closed." However, as I remarked above, to me this is not a mere academic issue.

I remember over twenty years ago, before I was ordained a deacon in 1989, my wife Joan and I were required to see a marriage therapist as part of the formation process (as were all of the deacon candidate couples). During our conversation with the therapist, Joan expressed something I hadn't ever heard before, at least not that clearly. She stated that she didn't really understand why I wanted to be a part of something that clearly discriminated against women. Now, I had known that she felt ordination (priesthood or diaconate) should be open to women, but she had never expressed her concerns so personally.

I was stunned, actually. Ever since considering the question seriously in the early 70's, I have felt that ordination should be open to women. But I also have experienced from a very early time a serious personal calling toward ministry, and finally this was crystalizing in my diaconate formation. (Mind you, I had already worked full-time for the Church since graduation from college in 1969.) But my reaction to Joan's statement was immediate and unconditional, and I voiced it: if she felt that strongly about this, so much that it was a barrier in our marriage, then I did not want to go any further in the formation process. Period.

A long and fruitful conversation ensued, and suffice it to say that we both understood each other better, and she did feel fine about my being ordained. But of course, that didn't change her opinion about the ordination of women: that it was discrimination, however you looked at it.

At one time I actually thought that Vatican II was just the beginning of something within our Catholic Church that would bring even greater changes, including opening up the priesthood to married men and women both. I believed that I might see those changes in my lifetime. But of course that does seem extremely unlikely at present. When Pope John Paul II in 1994 issued his apostolic letter "Ordinatio sacerdotalis" (On Reserving Priestly Ordination to Men Alone), and this teaching was declared to be definitive and the conversation concluded, I know I was not the only one who felt ... well, betrayed might not be the right word, but it does convey the appropriate level of hurt that the heart felt. Ultimately, I have to say that I feel helpless about this. I do not wish to leave the Catholic Church at all, because it is my home. Sometimes you endure what you cannot understand, and live as faithfully as you can. When pressed, of course I have tried to express the Church's teaching, but it's hard to do it without a heartfelt conviction. I value the exchange between Ms. Butler and Fr. Egan, because it enables me to speak about this issue more crisply.

Where this is all going is that in April, an old friend from my days in the Jesuit Volunteer Corps, Diane Whalen, was noted in the Seattle Times newspaper: "State's 1st female priest by Roman Catholic Womenpriests," -- and this is her picture:

I was not there in Olympia for the ordination; I was in Africa, visiting our sister parish in Namitembo. I can say very honestly that I am very happy for Diane. Not happy that she has been excommunicated as a result of her actions, of course. But just look at her picture. I recognize that expression... she's unable to surpress a grin. She's clearly a very happy woman. I spoke with her a year ago, after her ordination to the (transitional) diaconate, and she was full of life. She was already experiencing the joy of ministering in a new way, especially to people who were on the margins of our Church.

You know, I would have wanted to be present at her ordination. But from what I've read most recently, such an action might have brought me an automatic excommunication as well. I haven't exactly seen that in what I've read -- excommunication is a very serious thing! However, I know that "the ax has fallen" before in the U.S., for ordained individuals who visibly supported women's ordination. See the write-up on Roy Bourgeois, a Maryknoll priest who attended such an ordination back East. And the recent pronouncement on this issue (see Crystal's original post) clearly says that our Church is drawing a harder line.

A Family Wedding!!

2010-06-30T15:47:00.000-07:00

Saturday, June 26th, 2010

A perfect day.

My daughter Elizabeth married a great guy named Brad Wilke, on a beautiful summer day in Seattle, late in the afternoon, in our back yard.

At the end of the ceremony, we all raised our hands in blessing, and I offered this:

A Nuptial Blessing

Precious God,
You created us all in your image
And made us to be joined in love
In union of body and heart
So as to fulfill our mission in the world.

Give your blessings to Elizabeth your daughter
So that she may be a good wife and mother,
Caring for the home, faithful in love for her husband,
Generous and kind.

Give your blessings to Brad your son,
So that he may be a good husband and father,
Caring for the home, faithful in love for his wife,
Generous and kind.

Grant them both every good gift.
Make them strong of heart, and wise;
Give them good humor, the ability to laugh well, and celebrate.
Enable them to work hard, and continue to give their lives
In service to life, and the common good of all.

Help them be gentle, patient, and forgiving,
Especially with each other.
May they be grateful every day for their lives, and
Grateful every day that you have given them to each other.

May they live to see their children’s children’s children!
May they grow old in the company of their family and good friends.
And may they reach at last the eternal life and happiness
For which our hearts are made.

We ask this in the name of the Spirit of Love with us today.

Amen!

Saturday, June 26, 2010

Who Do You Say That I Am?

2010-06-21T15:09:00.000-07:00

I don't consider myself very good with jokes, though occasionally I'll use one in a homily. Seattle weather has been so miserable this spring that I thought I'd "cheer people up" with a joke to start this past weekend's homily. It was light...

The book that I reference here, Reclaim the Fire, is by Reverand Martin Pable, and is out of print. The Seattle Archdiocese paid to have a special run of 1000 copies, for distribution to the priests and other parish leadership. It's a good book, and you can still get used copies through Amazon.

Here's the homily:

12th Sunday of Ordinary Time (C), June 20, 2010

I’d like to begin this morning with a little story. It seems there were nine young soldiers who had received overnight passes from their base camp. When morning came, however, not one of those nine was present. Finally, an hour after they were supposed to report, the first soldier straggled back to camp. He was immediately taken to the company commander. “I’m sorry I was late sir,” the soldier said, “but I had a date, lost track of time, and missed the last bus back. But I wanted to make it back on time so I took a taxi. But about halfway back to camp, the cab broke down, so I went to a nearby farm and bought a horse. But as I was riding back her on the horse, the animal suddenly fell to the ground and died. So I did the last miles on foot, and here I am. Well, the company commander was pretty skeptical about that weird chain of excuses, but he finally let the young soldier off with just a mild lecture about the virtue of being on time.

However, in short succession, there were seven more stragglers who reported in, one by one, and each one had the same story! They had a date, lost track of time, missed the last bus, took a cab, cab broke down, bought a horse, horse fell dead. And finally, the ninth and last soldier arrived. And by now the commander was totally exasperated and growled at him, “What happened to you?” The ninth soldier replied, “Sir, I had a date, lost track of time, missed the last bus, hired a taxi….” “Wait a minute! Wait a minute!” the officer cried. Are you going to tell me that the cab broke down?” “No, sir,” the soldier replied. “The taxi was fine. The problem is that we couldn’t get through. The whole road was clogged with dead horses.”

They couldn’t get through! That’s my theme for today – not getting through. And we have a tremendous Christian message: words of wisdom and hope, about love and forgiveness and healing. We have a great heritage, people of courage and compassion, who have built schools and hospitals and shelters, who lived lives of service and outreach to people in need and who have spoken out courageously for the outcast and forgotten – I could go on for a long time -- but the message too often doesn’t get through. Sometimes I think that part of the problem is that we live out the wrong part of today’s gospel message. Jesus asks the disciples, “Who do YOU say that I am?” And after Peter says “You are the Messiah, the Christ, the Holy One, the Son of the Living God,” Jesus then “Sternly ordered and commanded them not to tell anyone!” That’s the WRONG part of the gospel to pay attention to!! Once Jesus rose from the dead he commanded us to tell the whole world! And the early Christians DID that – otherwise we wouldn’t be here this morning.

Over the past year our staff and Pastoral Council have read this book, which I have quoted from before, entitled “Reclaim the Fire” In the first chapter the author offers this somber reflection: “We are no longer a growing Church. We are a declining Church and a graying Church. Some years ago George Gallup used the image of “a sleeping giant” to describe the Catholic Church. He was trying to say: You Catholics have so much potential for good in this society. You have the largest membership of any church in America (some 60 million). You have clear teachings, a rich spirituality, visible organization, and leadership. But you are asleep. You are not having the spiritual impact on society that you could have – and the nation is the poorer for it.”

And before any of our minds go off grumbling about the institutional Church, and all the problems that our hierarchy has had, I want to point out, first, that Mr. Gallup’s quote predates the recent troubles our hierarchy has had; and secondly, that Catholic leadership in this country is not solely up to the hierarchy. Our Vice President is Catholic, 6 of 9 Supreme Court Justices, and nearly 30% of Congress*, more than any other religious body, more than twice the number of Baptists or Methodists, three times the number of Episcopalians or Presbyterians, four times the number of Jews, nine times the number of Mormons, and once you start looking at the various evangelical Christian churches… well, we have more than all the rest of those combined. We have an unprecedented potential for good in our society, and the world. But I agree with Mr. Gallup. Too often it’s like we’re asleep.

Jesus asks his disciples, “Who do YOU say that I am?” Do we have an answer? Do WE have a personal relationship with the living Jesus Christ? I’m not talking about the historical Jesus. That Jesus is only someone we read about, or see a statue of. I’m talking about the living One we encounter in the Word, the One whose flesh we eat and blood we drink at Eucharist, the One who is actually with us whenever two or three of us is gathered in his name, the One we meet when we feed the hungry or shelter the homeless. If that doesn’t enliven our heart, fill us with joy, and compel us to share the great news … then maybe it’s more like that guy in the cab who couldn’t get through … maybe the message just isn’t getting through, not only not getting through to others but maybe not getting through to us.

The subtitle of this book is “A parish guide to Evangelization.” There’s that scary word, evangelization. I know that most of you don’t like that word. If I were to try to pull together a parish evangelization committee after Mass today without explaining what I mean, I know I just wouldn’t get very many takers. Part of it might be the image in your mind of a street corner evangelist. Or maybe you’ve had a pair of Jehovah Witnesses come to your door and you thought, “Boy is THAT weird.” Maybe you just feel it’s too showy or pompous to talk about your faith. Or perhaps you just don’t like the controversy that conversations about faith can cause.

But think about this story that I heard this past week. This is a true story. One of our preteens, whose family is generally here almost every Sunday, went to a neighboring church for a change, only because they knew some of the people there, and it’s just around the corner from their home. And her mom was absolutely shocked because that young lady SANG in church. She said, “When she’s here at St. Bridget, she sings like this: ... (virtually inaudible) … but in that church she actually sang out, because everybody else in the place was singing too!”

Evangelization is like singing: enthusiasm is contagious! Evangelization is not about shaming people into conversion. It’s not about stealing from other faiths. And it’s NOT about trying to fill up empty pews. In the very first and most important place, evangelization is about growing in our own relationship with Jesus Christ.
I know that St. Bridget parishioners, above almost any other parish I could name, place an extremely high value on education, and not only for our young people. Most adults here have readily attended continuing education seminars and workshops to keep up with professional lives, but … how much do we do to inform and enrich our spiritual life? Some. Too little. And if we adults do not take the time to be knowledgeable and enthusiastic about our faith, we have no reason to expect that our children will either.

“Who is it that you say that I am?” Do yourself a favor… and let that question haunt you a bit today, and over this next week. After all, Jesus asks that question of his closest friends. And he asks you that question, today, here at this Eucharist.

*in 2005-06, check HERE

Deacon Denny Duffell

Music for the Twelfth Sunday of Ordinary Time

2010-06-17T12:02:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about this weekend's homily, and the gospel (Luke 9:18-24) relates Jesus' question to his disciples, "Who do the crowds say that I am?" One of the insights I think I'll want to share is that this is a living question today, for all of us, and not just a historical question then.

Meditating on this question caused me to look up one of my old favorite songs, "God Is Alive, Majic Is Afoot," written by Leonard Cohen and recorded by Buffey Sainte Marie. It's beautiful and haunting. The words are below this U-Tube link.

God is alive, magic is afoot
God is alive, magic is afoot
God is alive, magic is afoot
God is afoot, magic is alive
Alive is afoot, magic never died
God never sickened
Many poor men lied
Many sick men lied
Magic never weakened
Magic never hid
Magic always ruled
God is afoot, God never died
God was ruler
Though his funeral lengthened
Though his mourners thickened
Magic never fled
Though his shrouds were hoisted
The naked God did live
Though his words were twisted
The naked magic thrived
Though his death was published
Round and round the world
The heart did not believe

Many hurt men wondered
Many struck men bled
Magic never faltered
Magic always led
Many stones were rolled
But God would not lie down
Many wild men lied
Many fat men listened
Though they offered stones
Magic still was fed
Though they locked their coffers
God was always served
Magic is afoot, God is alive
Alive is afoot

Alive is in command
Many weak men hungered
Many strong men thrived
Though they boast of solitude
God was at their side
Nor the dreamer in his cell
Nor the captain on the hill
Magic is alive
Though his death was pardoned
Round and round the world
The heart would not believe

Though laws were carved in marble
They could not shelter men
Though altars built in parliaments
They could not order men
Police arrested magic and
Magic went with them
Mmmmm.... for magic loves the hungry
But magic would not tarry
It moves from arm to arm
It would not stay with them
Magic is afoot
It cannot come to harm
It rests in an empty palm
It spawns in an empty mind
But magic is no instrument
Magic is the end
Many men drove magic
But magic stayed behind
Many strong men lied
They only passed through magic
And out the other side
Many weak men lied
They came to God in secret
And though they left Him nourished
They would not tell who healed
Though mountains danced before them
They said that God was dead
Though his shrouds were hoisted
The naked God did live
This I mean to whisper to my mind
This I mean to laugh within my mind
This I mean my mind to serve
Til' service is but magic
Moving through the world
And mind itself is magic
Coursing through the flesh
And flesh itself is magic
Dancing on a clock
And time itself
The magic length of God

"What! A guy named Jesus?!"

2010-06-11T16:10:00.000-07:00

Catholics in Alliance for the Common Good publishes a weekly media report, in which I always find interesting kernals of news from around the country. This one, however, was just plain fun. Of course, it pokes fun at Arizona, but hey, they're the ones who shot themselves in the foot, not me. The story was posted by the Washington Post, dated June 2nd. The writer is Fr. Thomas Reese, who used to be the editor for America magazine, and the piece is entitled "Jesus in Arizona."

THIS CATHOLIC'S VIEW
By Thomas J. Reese, S.J.
"This is 911. What is your emergency?"
"Someone is trying to break into my house."
"What is your address?"
"1234 Palm Street in Phoenix."
"Let me check for an available officer. Let's see, I can have someone come by tomorrow between 9 a.m. and noon."
"What? But this is an emergency."
"I'm sorry, but all of our officers are busy with priority calls."
"What takes priority over a burglary?"
"Illegal immigrants."
"You've got to be kidding!"
"No, under the new state law, police officers can be sued if they do not go after illegal immigrants so that is now our number one priority. We don't want to be sued."
"But what about me?"
"Oh, you can't sue if your house is burgled. That's why you are a lower priority."
"But I might get killed."
"Well, if you are dead, you can't sue either."
"Isn't there anything you can do for me?"
"Well, have you seen the burglars?"
"No, I'm hiding in the closet."
"That's too bad, because if they were brown, I could send someone right away."
"Jesus!"
"Did you say, 'Jesus'?"
"Yes, I said, 'Jesus!'"
"Well, if there is a Jesus in your house, that makes you a priority call. There is a high probability that he is an illegal. Sorry, got to go, there is a call on our immigration hotline." Click.
The caller punches the redial button.
"This is 911. What is your emergency?"
"There is a brown guy named Jesus trying to break into my house."
"Don't worry, we will be there right away."
"Oh, thank God."
"You betcha. We are here to serve and protect."
Thomas J. Reese, S.J., is a Senior Fellow, Woodstock Theological Center, Georgetown University.

I wonder if the voters in Arizona ever visited the Statue of Liberty. If so, I wonder what they thought of words of that famous sonnet on the plaque mounted inside the pedestal. It's by Emma Lazarus, entitled The New Colossus, and includes these words:

"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

I'll be out of town on the weekend of the 4th of July, so I'm not doing the homily that weekend. But if I were, I'd weave that poem into my homily.

Excommunicating a Nun For "Trying to Save a Life"?

2010-06-11T12:21:00.000-07:00

There have been many stories in the Catholic and secular press about the excommunication of Sr. Margaret Mary McBride by Bishop Thomas Olmsted of Phoenix. The reason is that Sr. McBride was a member of the ethics committee of St. Joseph hospital, which decided to allow an abortion under difficult and unusual circumstances. As Bishop Olmsted's statement reads, quoting the Ethical and Religious Directives for Catholic Healthcare Institutions: "Abortion (that
is, the directly intended termination of pregnancy before viability or the directly intended destruction of a viable fetus) is never permitted. Every procedure whose sole immediate effect is the termination of pregnancy before viability is an abortion."

As an article in the National Catholic Reporter described it, the hospital allowed "the abortion of an 11-week-old fetus in order to save the life of a pregnant woman, a 27-year-old mother of four suffering from pulmonary hypertension. The woman was so gravely ill that doctors told her she would die if the pregnancy were not terminated."

I've read a number of articles about this incident, most of them critical of Bishop Olmsted for acting "with a swiftness and certainty that left no possibility for doubt or nuance." This week's NCR article, however, went beyond a survey of opinion, and referred to criticism from a Catholic experts (specifically quoting Redemptorist Fr. Johnstone, professor of moral theology at Catholic University, and the work of noted theologian Germain Grisez, who teaches Christian ethics at Mount St. Mary College and Seminary in Maryland). They question Bishop Olmsted's action for "its proportionality and its precipitous nature... as disproportionally harsh... as inconsistent within the framework of the application of wider Catholic law."

Lost in this, for me, was a description of the actual medical intervention that took place. I have not found this actual description anywhere, not even on the diocesan web site, which hosts a statement from the diocesan medical ethics director, as well as a question and answer page about this issue. The discussion appears to be hypothetical in nature, but does give the impression that what took place was a "Dilation and Curettage (D&C) or Dilation and Extraction (D&E)." Disclosure of the specifics could well be prohibited by medical confidentiality.

The diocesan website left the impression that there were other medical options, but I have yet to read of any specific alternative treatment that the bishop may have had in mind. It seems to me that before excommunicating someone, one should point out what else might have been done. And if our Church is concerned about scandal and our obligations to teach, the alternative should be convincingly explained. The diocesan postings were clear about what couldn't be done... but not about what could have been done.

I'm especially interested in this situation because rumor has it that Bishop Olmsted is one of the possible candidates to replace Archbishop Brunett here in Seattle, who has already reached retirement age. If that occurs, I'm sure that many Catholics in Seattle will soon hear a lot more about what happened in Phoenix!

Father, Son, and Spirit

2010-05-31T14:30:00.001-07:00

One of the odd little things about being a Deacon is that I don't really set the homily schedule. That's appropriate, and I've never minded it -- the pastor should have the discretion to choose the times or feast days that require a particular word from the pastor. However, in my experience there are VERY FEW times when the pastor has really wanted to give the homily for Trinity Sunday! It's so very ... theological! I think that the reason I've wound up with the homily on this feast far more often than a random calendar pick would predict.

Here's my effort below. I was helped greatly by Fr. Tim's loan of a book, The Knowledge of the Holy, by A.W.Tozer, 1897-1963. (Here's a review I find helpful and accurate.) VERY theological, but interesting; and it got me "un-stuck."

Solemnity of the Holy Trinity (C), May 29, 2010

Good morning. This weekend we celebrate the solemnity of the Holy Trinity, and I’d like to begin this morning with a little short story that I first read 25 years ago, from a book called Song of the Bird, by a Jesuit named Anthony de Mello. It’s one of the books we have on the table in the sitting area in our parish office. You might happen to recognize this story, because I shared it in a homily once before, a long time ago; it’s entitled, The Formula.

The mystic was back from the desert.
“Tell us,” they said, “what God is like.”

But how could he ever tell them what he had experienced in his heart?
Can God be put into words?

So…he finally gave them a formula – so inaccurate, so inadequate –
In the hope that some of them
Might be tempted to experience it for themselves.

Instead…they seized upon the formula!
They made it a sacred text. They imposed it on others as a holy belief.
They went to great pains to spread it in foreign lands.
Some even gave their lives for it.

The mystic was sad. It might have been better if he had said nothing.

I thought of that story several days ago as I began to prepare for this homily. It probably wasn’t written with the dogma of the Trinity in mind, but I do think it applies very well. You see, in a few moments, we will say together the words of the Creed, the faith that we share as Christians. Those words were formulated centuries ago to try to express the mystery of God’s life, as found in the scriptures and experienced in the living history of the early Christian community. And as described in the story “The Formula,” it is absolutely true that real people fought and died over those words. In fact, it was the Roman Emperor Constantine who called together the Council of Nicaea in the early 4th century in order for the Church to settle once and for all the religious controversies that threatened the good order of the Roman Empire; and the creed we regularly say at Mass is what they finally came up with. You remember the words: … “God from God, Light from Light, True God from True God, begotten not made, one in Being with the Father”… and of the Holy Spirit, who “proceeds from the Father and the Son. Together with the Father and the Son he is adored and glorified.”

Those theological words are important. But it is of course also true that the words are inadequate to describe the mystery of God’s life, just like in the story. Now, I don’t have any illusions that I can do better, especially in just our few moments today, but I’d like to offer three fruits of my prayer from this past week about the three persons of the Trinity, as we see them in our readings today. And I know… this is not “theology.”

Our first reading is marvelous! It takes us all the way back to the beginning, before the earth itself, before mountains or fountains, before sea or sky – and we find God’s Wisdom playing…playing on the surface of the earth… and finding delight in the human race. What a poetic reminder for us that all of this creation around us! ALL OF IT IS GIFT – from the vast universe that we are only the tiniest part of; to the mountains and waters that we enjoy in our area around Puget Sound; to the personal marvels of our own birth and growth, and our talents and abilities, even our heart, our hands, and our minds. ALL IS GIFT, FROM GOD.

Unfortunately, it’s all too easy to take these many gifts for granted, or regard them as something we have coming to us. And the acquisitive world that surrounds us can infect us, make us want more -- and cause us to forget what should be our most natural response to the good we enjoy, which is GRATITUDE; gratefulness; a sense of how lucky and blessed we are as children of a loving God we call Father. (How appropriate, isn’t it, that the word “Eucharist” means Thanksgiving?)

Our second reading is a letter from Paul about our faith in Jesus Christ, a faith that he says brings us peace and hope; a faith which enables us not only to endure afflictions, but to even “boast of our afflictions!” When I first read that I thought it was really odd that ANYONE would boast of afflictions; but in thinking about it more, I realized that there ARE some people who boast of their afflictions. Not that they do it as a sign of their faith, mind you, most often it seems like it’s in the hope of getting a little sympathy! But of course Paul is not really focusing on the boasting, that’s a bit of a distraction. He’s talking about a special kind of peace and hope that our faith brings us, and that’s something which can endure in the face of the greatest of difficulties. Jesus had that peace even in his darkest hour, and that peace was his last gift to his disciples.

In just a few moments we’ll life up our voices in prayer, by name, for people who right now are going through pain and sickness; and there are other parishioners besides these, going through other afflictions: depression, alcoholism, troubles in a relationship. And we will pray for healing for them, of course, but even more, let’s pray for their strong faith in Jesus, for their ability to trust, as he did, that God is with them always. Let’s pray for their deep peace and hope. I know I’ve told you many times before, from personal experience: it’s always humbling to be close to someone who has that kind of faith, during those hard times. I pray for that kind of faith for all of you, for me, and for those people we’ll lift in prayer.

Finally, our gospel reading, from Jesus’ last words to the disciples at the Last Supper, tells us of the coming of the Holy Spirit. God knew that even Jesus’ very own life would not be enough for us. We could not remember it all; we would not understand it all; sometimes we would not even believe it all. There would be times when we would feel alone, when we would hear other voices, many that would masquerade as “wisdom.” We would finally be tempted to find our own truth, follow our own path, rely on our own strength. This is the great temptation of our relativistic, individualistic modern culture.

And so the Holy Spirit has been given to us, as our gospel says today, to guide us to REAL truth. When we experience this Spirit, we find ourselves with a grace that truly comes from beyond ourselves. It might be that we will somehow find the right words to comfort someone who is hurting. Or we might experience a strength beyond our own that will help us to forgive someone who has hurt us deeply, and maybe even to do it in a way that builds a new beginning. Or we might inexplicably find the ability to admit we were wrong, and to tell someone we are oh, so sorry – and thus experience a consolation that we never dreamed possible. Or we might just suddenly experience an unexplainable clarity and peace about something that has troubled us deeply for a long time. Or we might find the freedom within to let go and give deeply of ourselves – humbly, generously, cheerfully, and gratefully. These are all signs of the presence of the Holy Spirit. It’s beyond US.

Our gospel finally brings it all together by saying that the Holy Spirit will glorify Jesus – in other words, when we experience the Spirit working in us in these ways, then we will understand in a deeper way the truth of who Jesus was and the glory that is the Father’s. I know that to be true in my own life, and sometimes I find myself serendipitously happy because of it! But we should always remember too the message of Pentecost – that the Holy Spirit is not given to us as a private grace, but rather is an outpouring upon all of the people of God, given so that we might as a community become the wind and fire of God’s love on earth.

I hope that was a bit more than just “a formula.” Amen.

Deacon Denny Duffell

What Good Does It Do?

2010-05-20T20:41:00.000-07:00

Last weekend we held our closing retreat for our parish JustFaith program -- a dinner on Friday, with prayer and discussion, and an all-day gathering on Saturday. It was a beautiful day, and if the retreat hadn't been really meaningful to the folks present, I'm sure we would have had a few defections along the way, with people leaving to enjoy other pursuits. But we had a few of our retreat sessions outside, and the pace was very relaxed so that our retreatants could walk outside and enjoy the sunshine.

During one of the discussions the topic of nonviolence/peace came up, and one of our retreatants expressed the sadness that the world's military urges are so huge, well-funded, and seemingly popular that she felt a bit overwhelmed and hopeless about any efforts to move things in another direction.

I had read a very hopeful-in-spite-of-the-world column in the National Catholic Reporter blogs from Fr. John Dear SJ recently, entitled Marching for Peace in New York City, but I didn't have a copy of it (I have sent it to her since). He points out that that sense of hopelessness isn't new, and it shouldn't stop us. Excerpts follow:

I’m often confronted with the question, what good do these actions do? Why bother marching? What’s the use of singing? Does anyone really pay any attention to your leaflets, your unfurling of banners, your staged die-ins?

Such questions are misplaced, arising as they do from our culture’s obsession with command and control and effectiveness. I operate from another ethic, the one that calls us to speak out against the odds, to puncture pretenses, to break the unanimity.

Such was much of the busyness among the pages of the Acts of the Apostles, often read during our Easter and Pentecost seasons. Each day the apostles and the early community gathered near the Temple , in the heart of Jerusalem . And there they spoke out -- and faced arrest. Even though they seemed to make little difference. Even though the system barreled on.

But they had resolved themselves. They would “witness to the resurrection,” in their words. They would speak of the defeat of death. As for the chips, let them fall where they may.

Here’s Peter and one typical day in the Life: “‘God raised up his servant and sent him to bless you by turning each of you from your evil ways.’ While they were still speaking to the people, the priests, the captain of the guard and the Sadducees confronted them, disturbed that they were teaching the people and proclaiming in Jesus the resurrection of the dead. They laid hands on them and put them in custody ...” (Act 3:26, 4:1-3).

This is the story of the early church. In our own clumsy way, we tried to do the same. In Grand Central Station, in Times Square. We witnessed to the resurrection. Which today translates to mean: “No more nuclear weapons, no more wars, no more killing, no more violence. Stop planning the global crucifixion of Christ. The days of engineering society by Death are over.”

We who participated in these events were inspired to carry on, and in these cynical, despairing times, that in itself is a great accomplishment.

The Spirit, like the wind, blows where it will, and we never know the outcome of our witness. What we do know is our vocation -- to stand up, speak out boldly, and announce Resurrection to a troubled people mired in a culture of death.

I've gotten away from that kind of participation, though there was a time when both Joan and I were involved in demonstrations and civil disobedience at the Trident Missle Base, the IRS building in downtown Seattle, and other places. It does feel hopeless sometimes, but Fr. Dear's example of the early Church is a good one. I shouldn't feel like "my" action or protest is somehow going to change the world through the force of its purity of purpose! Someone at our retreat on Saturday quoted Mother Teresa: "We don't build the whole building, we lay a brick."

It's obviously not only true with activities against war and in favor of peace. It's true in working to help the homeless or in cooking at a free soup kitchen or working for just immigration laws. We do these things not because we expect we will overcome the world's problems in our lifetime.

Archbishop Oscar Romero put it this way: "The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is even beyond our vision. We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God's work. ... We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that. This enables us to do something, and to do it very well. ... We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker."