Every year for the feast of St. Lucy, my family makes arancini, which are balls of rice mixed with cheese and egg that we fill with a meat sauce, cover with breadcrumbs and egg, and fry. One year, it turned out that I was making the arancini too big and we wouldn’t have enough for everybody. I quickly pivoted and started taking rice from the bigger arancini I had already made and made smaller ones. My uncle was amazed, and he kept telling people about how I seemed to make more arancini appear out of nowhere.

Clearly, what I did wasn’t a miracle. And unfortunately, some people interpret Jesus’ feeding of the five thousand in a similar way. They say that all the people in the crowd had brought some food with them and shared it, so that it was really a “miracle of sharing.” But why would we want to turn what is clearly a miracle into something mundane?

On the spiritual level, it’s because, as Michelle Benzinger says, we believe the lie that our God is a god of scarcity. But He is a God of abundance! The miracle of today’s Gospel shows it. Yet often we still live in the lie of scarcity.

To some extent, it makes sense. The Gospel begins with five loaves and two fish to feed five thousand men. That clearly is not enough. But Jesus does not want us to remain in that place. So He takes the bread, gives thanks, and gives it to the five thousand, and there are twelve wicker baskets full of leftover fragments!

Maybe we wonder why Jesus doesn’t feed everyone this way. In a way, what we’re really saying is, “Why doesn’t God do this for me?” But it’s not about the food. It’s about the fact that Jesus will provide us with more than enough.

We see this above all in the Eucharist. In the Eucharist, Jesus continues to feed us, not just with bodily food, but with His own Body and Blood. And even as we go to Mass every week, we might be tempted to give into the lie of scarcity. But God is giving us Himself; there is nothing more that He can give us.

The Gospel tells us that Jesus performs the miracle to test His disciples. They could have refused to follow Jesus’ command, but they obey, and through their faith, a miracle takes place. At every Mass, a greater miracle than the feeding of the five thousand takes place. It’s up to us to receive it.

When I was making the arancini, all I did was redistribute the rice that was already there, but God works true miracles of abundance in our lives. He will not abandon us because a situation is too difficult, though the way He come through might be in a way we might not expect, whether through five barley loaves and two fish or a little bit of bread and wine.

Father Frank

Have you ever come back from a vacation and felt like you needed another vacation from your vacation?  As we work, we come to know our limitations and the need to take a break. However, I would argue that not many of us know how to refuel properly. For example, I’ll go for a run (once in a blue moon) only to come back and eat that candy bar, because I think I deserve it!  As much as the candy bar tastes good, it is not exactly what my body needs after a run.

Many of us exert ourselves, but then try to refuel with things that never satisfy. In these summer months, many of us find time to go on a vacation. However, I would encourage you to reflect on how replenishing your vacations actually are, or how you can make your vacations a real time of rest and growth in the spiritual life! 

When I was a missionary, we would encourage our students that when they go home for breaks, to not to take a vacation away from God. In a similar vein, how many of us travel and take a break from going to Sunday Mass?  It is more than just fulfilling our Sunday obligation, but we should invite the Lord into our break, so that we can actually be fed and nourished.  It is beautiful that in our Gospel, after the Apostles were sent on mission, Jesus personally took them to a deserted place so that they could rest.  He wanted to reveal the importance of getting away from the world and spending time with him. 

Taking time for silence is important. Reading spiritual books, or listening to podcasts that lift the soul to God can be extremely fruitful. How many of us say that we don’t have time to pray as much as we should, but then on vacation we don’t make time to seek the Lord- even though we don’t have a million things to get done!

As a priest, I am required by Canonical (Church) law to take a 5-day retreat every year! Luckily, I’m a rule follower and I took my retreat at the beginning of June. It was life giving. I slept, prayed, worked out, and read. I had the opportunity to pray the rosary and divine mercy chaplet every day with a group of holy cloistered nuns. I offered Mass every day for our parish. 

It also allowed me to examine my year as a priest. Just as our first reading calls out the bad shepherds of Israel, I prayed for forgiveness for the ways I may have failed as a shepherd, and I gave thanks to the Lord for the graces I have received as a shepherd (which are many at OLM).

I hope you have seen the fruit of that retreat in my own life and priesthood since I have returned, and I encourage you to find the time to do the same. May the next vacation you take be an opportunity to rest in the Lord and be replenished by him!

Father Michael

“Parting is such sweet sorrow”, a quote from one of William Shakespear’s Masterpiece, Romeo and Juliet. I dread being away from Our Lady Mercy, a bosom of love and affection, friendship and communion – this is the sorrowful part. But on the flip side of it all, I know that time away will produce more longing and anticipation and more love and this is the sweet part. Our Lady of Mercy remains my home parish and I will always come back whenever I feel “home-sick”. But where did it all start from? Sometime last year (2023), while I was still in Kenya, I received an email from Fr. Michael Kearney, letting me know that once I get to the United States I will be staying at OLM as I prepare to join the Seminary in Mundelein. He described the parish community as welcoming, warm and vibrant. True to his words, when I got here, I was welcomed warmly and the vibrancy of the parish made me feel like I am in one of the parishes in Nairobi, Kenya. I felt at home right away. I remember when Bishop Hicks visited the parish in February, I could not hide my joy, I expressed my feelings of appreciation and affection to the parish and told him that being at OLM feels like home away from home.

Time flies, I can’t imagine that I am saying goodbye! I got here on the eve of the New Year and two days later I was already into the Parish ministry. I was quickly scouted and enrolled to the Hesed House PADs ministry by Maybird, a ministry I enjoyed and cherished on every first Tuesday of the month. Serving the guests at the homeless shelter as an act of corporeal work of mercy was fulfilling and it reminded me of Jesus’ teaching in Matthew 25:35 “…for I was hungry, and you gave Me food; I was thirsty, and you gave Me drink.” Then I got to learn about the other ministries in the parish:

I got involved in with the Fit Shepherds every Saturday Morning, taking Holy Eucharist to the Home Bound especially at Thrive and Alden in the company of Deacon Bugsy and “the Joes”. I served during mass – my favorite ministry. I joined the morning rosary group every morning after mass to recite the rosary. I also joined the Our Lady of Fatima Group for rosary on Saturdays; I attended the Praying with Sts. Monica and Augustine prayer group on Mondays. Occasionally, joined the Bible study and the Consuming Fire (Young Adults) groups on Tuesdays. I also joined Salt and Light as well as Vine and Branches on several occasions on Wednesdays. I joined the Parish Choir as the omega (last) member just before the summer break, what a joy to sing for the Lord! During Lent I was involved in the Rescue Project Ministry, a very transformative ministry indeed! I was also involved in the Christ Renews His Parish (CRHP) Retreat, a life-changing and inspiring retreat. I joined the Knights of Columbus. I attended meetings with the Society of St. Vincent DePaul. I also attended Spanish classes taught by our Maestra Veronica, though all I can say in Spanish so far is “hola amigo” and “gracias a Dios”, thanks to my classmates! ¡Gracias Maestra, Dios te bendiga!

I would like to thank every person I interacted with in these ministries; I may not mention each one by name but from the bottom of my heart, I say thank you and may God bless you and keep you; may He make His face shine upon you and grant you and your loved ones peace and grace! In a very special way, I would like to thank all the parish staff for the support and love you have shown me. Especially, Zara, for walking with me as I enculturate into the “American Culture”. Thanks to all the parishioners who have opened their doors and invited me to join their families to break bread together, it was such an amazing moment getting to know you all. I would like to apologize for any shortcoming, any toes I stepped or any shoulder I brushed while in ‘the line of duty’. Special thanks to Fr. Michael, Fr. Frank and Jonathan for making my stay in the rectory a happy one. I will be officially leaving for Mundelein Seminary on August 10, 2024. The weekend of July 27/28 will be my last one here at OLM. As a parting shot: in today’s first reading the Lord commissions Prophet Amos to go and prophesy to His people, we are all called to prophesy in different ways. Let us do so through works of mercy, both corporeal and spiritual. When the deacon says, at the end of mass “Go in peace, glorifying the Lord by your life” – we are commissioned to go and carry out the works of mercy! Goodbye good people, best wishes and blessings!   

Topher

As an adolescent, I didn’t have any scruples about telling my dad exactly what I thought when I didn’t like what he told me to do. Unsurprisingly, this led to arguments. Sometimes I was in the wrong, sometimes my parents were in the wrong, and more often both of us were in the wrong. But something that looms large in my memory is that when my dad saw that he was in the wrong, he would apologize to me. Even as a kid, I was impressed by my dad coming to own up to his mistakes, and it gave me a model of how to admit my mistakes and ask forgiveness.

Our culture hates weakness. It tells us that we need to be strong and overcome our weakness at all costs. What this means in reality is that we are taught to avoid those weaknesses at all costs because we don’t know how to overcome them. We need look no further than Superman. He is so powerful that the writers invented the weakness of kryptonite to make him relatable. In some comics, Superman overcomes the kryptonite, but in order to keep the comic interesting, the writers undo that so that the kryptonite does affect him. Ultimately it seems like the best way of dealing with this weakness is just to avoid it.

In the Second Reading, St. Paul begs Jesus to take a weakness away from him, but Jesus replies, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” Our culture tells us we need to overcome our weakness, but Jesus tells us that it is only through our weaknesses, He can act even in us. Why? Because we are no longer blocking His action with our pride and illusion of strength. Instead, we see the truth that without Him, we can do nothing. This might seem depressing until we realize the flipside of this truth: with God, all things are possible. That is why St. Paul can say, “When I am weak, then I am strong.”

We are called to this place of weakness, not to glorify the weakness, but because this is the only way for us to be able to love. Love calls us to be vulnerable, which literally means that we make ourselves able to be wounded. When we give ourselves to someone in love, we take the risk that the other person might hurt us. But we need to make ourselves vulnerable because that is the only way we can give of ourselves as we truly are.

Whenever my dad apologized to me, I caught a glimpse of this vulnerable love and was empowered to love in the same way. We see this love taken the utmost point of vulnerability every time we look at a crucifix: God loved us so much that He sent His Son to become man and die for us. By embracing our weakness and making ourselves vulnerable, we become strong by allowing that same love of Christ to work in us.

Father Frank

One of my best friends’ love language is physical touch. This means that he shows his affection by shaking hands or patting you on the back or giving you a hug. Physical touch is not my love language. So my friend had to learn that there were times when I just wasn’t in a place to receive affection through physical touch. I could really relate to Jesus saying, “Who touched me?” But on the other hand, I had to learn that physical touch is how he showed affection and to accept a hug from him as a sign of friendship rather than as a sign to run away.

There is something very powerful in physical touch. In almost every healing encounter, Jesus touches the person He heals. This continues in the Church today in the Anointing of the Sick. The priest lays his hands on the head of the sick person, invoking the Holy Spirit, and then anoints the head and hands with the Oil of the Sick. This is not just a nice gesture, but the Catechism tells us “in the sacraments Christ continues to ‘touch’ us in order to heal us” (CCC 1504).

But something different happens in our Gospel this weekend. Rather than Jesus reaching out to heal a sick person, the hemorrhaging woman reaches out to touch Jesus. Because of her illness, the woman was considered ritually unclean, excluded from the life of the community, and untouchable. To all intents and purposes, she is dead to the world. She is excluded from the intimacy and love which is expressed by touch.

Jesus is able to distinguish her touch from the pressing of the crowd. Unlike the people pressing on Jesus, this woman touched Him in faith, and, as a result, she is healed. The woman’s touch, which would normally have led to uncleanness, does not make Jesus unclean, but instead makes her clean as well. Through the intimacy of touch, the woman is brought back into communion.

But the woman doesn’t take healing against Jesus’ will. Instead, by healing her through her own act of touch, Jesus affirms her dignity and welcomes her back into communion. One of the reasons why Jesus touches those He heals and the Church lays hands on people in the sacraments is because we are body and soul, and that touch expresses in a physical way the love and mercy of Christ we experience in our souls.

Maybe many of us don’t believe that Christ wants to heal us and believe we need to sneak up behind Him and steal the healing, and so we approach Him in fear and trembling like the woman. But Jesus truly wants our healing, and He still reaches out to heal us today. Like I had to learn to accept that my friend was expressing love through physical touch, so we also need to allow Jesus to touch us to heal us and to extend that touch of healing to everyone we meet.

Father Frank