I give thanks to God for the people in my life who help me to make a gift of myself, as God would have me. They do this in many ways, but primarily by their humility, their service, and their devotion. And it strikes me that while Our Lord’s entire life was lived in thanksgiving to the Father, three particular occasions, recorded for us in the Gospels, show His gratitude for His disciples, for those who helped Him. Recall the time when Jesus praised God for hiding the mystery from the learned and the wise, but thanked Him for “revealing these things to the childlike.”

The structure of the Catholic Church is more like a monarchy than a democracy. It’s more of a kingdom than a country. The language alone is a giveaway. We call Christ “Lord,” and the Blessed Mother our “Queen” and “Our Lady.” Bishops are referred to as “Excellency,” and cardinals as “Princes of the Church.” The faithful rejoice to enter into the “courts” of the King, offering obedience to Christ’s Vicar on earth, Pope Francis, who was chosen by conclave, not by popular vote. This makes it really quite fun to be Catholic. If we did love stories about George Washington or Abraham Lincoln it was because they were portrayed as kingly in character.

Some time ago, an old student of mine called for spiritual counsel. He’s been playing professional baseball since his graduation from high school and faces a tremendous amount of pressure in the big league. I recommended to him a morning prayer routine with Scripture, adding that very little good happens in the night time. I was able to visit with him this week at his parents home on the Island, where he shared that morning prayer has been helpful. Then, when I shared with him that I’ve begun starting my own days with exercise before prayer, he said to me, “Yeah, I’ve learned it’s better to put in the hard work on the front end.”

“And when you have done all you have been commanded, say, ‘We are unprofitable servants; we have done what we were obliged to do.’” Those words Our Lord spoke to his disciples are certainly among his most unsettling. What could he have meant by them? As with all of Christ’s expressions, this one makes sense if we consider its context, and the man who is speaking it. In this case, Jesus was talking about servants. “Who among you would say to your servant...” And Christ himself is a servant. “The Son of Man has come to serve, not to be served.”

It’s just an analogy, and all analogies have their limitations, but I do think the left, center, and right lanes of the Long Island Expressway at, say, 10PM, bear some semblance to the current political landscape in America. We drive in the left when our hurt has us thinking only of ourselves. Whether resentful of the place from which we’re driving, anxious about the place to which we’re going, or just unhappy about life in general, the left lane is home to our rebellion against social responsibility and solidarity, the place of humanity’s selfish endorsement of Cain’s rhetorical question.

Some liberals speak of God’s mercy as if it were his acceptance of disorder. With regard to some sin, they may say, “I don’t think God cares about a little thing like that.” Or, “I’m sure God understands.” They speak of his mercy as if it were a kind of divine apathy. They would have us think of God as a mother who gives up on her children, or, if they would permit us to think of him as father at all, like a father who despairs of his wife, but who refrains, at least, from crushing her.

While serving as high school chaplain, I tried all sorts of ways to get the attention of the students. Not seldom, therefore, I would get very close to the line of propriety while speaking to them. On one occasion, however, I did cross that line by sharing a story with them about something that happened to me while I was in college. I immediately regretted it, and wasn’t at all surprised to find the bishop in my office the following day. “I know why you’re here,” I said to him, “and I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have shared that story with them.”

Catholicism orders the world by subjecting it to God’s authority through a hierarchical structure of society called the Church. Ordained ministers, for example, called to serve this scaffolding of authority, receive from God the Sacrament called Holy Orders. A priest’s authority over his people is entrusted to him by his bishop to whom he is subject, while that bishop serves under the authority of the Papal Nuncio whose own authority is subject to the Holy Father, the Vicar of Christ himself. 

If Laudato Si was about the Father, and Fratelli Tutti the Holy Spirit, Pope Francis’ new encyclical, Dilexit Nos, is on the Son. It’s a bit long for today’s Catholic consumer of headlines and soundbites - it reads like a compilation of notes prepared by ghost writers - but most papal encyclicals feel unrefined, with the exception of Pope Paul VI’s Humanae Vitae, which is, in my opinion, the best of all modern encyclicals. Nevertheless, I’m sure Dilexit Nos accomplishes what the Holy Father intended, namely, to promote the return of the Christian heart to the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

As a young man, John Paul II was introduced to Carmelite spirituality and a love affair began. He fell in love with the cross. He certainly knew his share of suffering, losing his sister, then mother, then brother, then his father, while coming of age in Nazi occupied Poland. But he learned to unite himself with Christ crucified, Who alone redeems suffering. Perhaps, then, it was Christ on the cross that compelled John Paul II to learn so many languages, because the cross speaks a word to every human heart. Perhaps he visited so many countries, because the cross of Christ alone puts to death the enmity that separates peoples.

I woke up this morning thinking about finances - those of the parish and my own as well. Then in the chapel I was led to a meditation on mercy, where I began to see a relationship between the two. Pope Francis said something that has stayed with me. He said, “Only mercy creates.” I continue to return to that for hope, because it reminds me that although there is much decline in this age there is also mercy. With regard to the relationship between finances and mercy, it seems to me that by showing mercy we are trusting that God will provide, that we don’t need to “win” or “conquer.”

Those who hate the Church can be forgiven, since most Christians make the Church a hateful thing. But woe to those whose uncharitable lives cause scandal and make the Church despised. “Everyone who speaks a word against the Son of Man will be forgiven, but the one who blasphemes against the Holy Spirit will not be forgiven.” The non-believer is neither our enemy nor our problem.