From the Pastor’s Desk

News from P.I.T. (Pastor in Training)


October 1 – Twenty-Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

As someone who studied math, when I come across this Gospel, I think of the other possible sons that the man in the Gospel could have had. The first son says he will not work in the vineyard but changes his mind and works, while the second son says he will work but never actually does. Couldn’t the man have had a son that said yes to the father’s task and actually completed it? Wouldn’t that be a perfect son, like me? Or couldn’t the man have had a son that said no, and then didn’t complete his task? Wouldn’t that be a son who was completely depraved and separated? 

Of course, you could make up those possibilities, but Christ only puts two options in the story for a reason. Why? Well, none of us are perfect and none of us are completely depraved from God’s grace!  And yet, don’t we put ourselves and others in those categories all the time? 

How often do we try to pursue perfection, not only in our work and relationships, but also in our spiritual life? How many of us walk around thinking that nothing is wrong, and that everything is just fine?  It’s an allusion that usually moves from indifference to despair. Usually those who believe they are perfect eventually see their allusion crumble and end up falling into despair! It confirms what the prophet Ezekiel shares with us in our first reading: “Thus says the Lord: You say, ‘The LORD’s way is not fair!’ Hear now, house of Israel: Is it my way that is unfair, or rather, are not your ways unfair?” (Ezekiel 18:25) 

The Lord is not expecting us to be perfect, but to seek his mercy and love and to turn back to him when we fall. To live a life of conversion means that we can never stop turning back to him.  Let us not fall into this unfair way of thinking: where we feel either too perfect for the Lord, or too far from calling out to him in our failures.  Let us always trust that it is never too late to be redeemed by him. When we call out to him, the Lord will always respond!   

Father Michael

September 24 – Twenty-Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

When I was about three years old, I was on vacation with my parents and grandparents, and we stopped at a McDonald’s. I was excited to explore the Play Place, so I decided to climb to one of the highest points, where there was a tunnel that crossed the entire Play Place. When I got to this tunnel, I looked out the window down at where my parents and grandparents were sitting, and I was too scared to move on. My mom saw this, so without thinking, she went into the Play Place, climbed all the way up to where I was frozen in fear, and brought me down safely to the ground. My grandparents would often tell me that story, reminding me, “Your mom climbed into the Play Place to get you.”

Today we celebrate the Feast of Our Lady of Mercy, the patronal feast of our parish. But what is mercy? Mercy is love when it comes in contact with evil. In the Old Testament, one of the words for mercy is rahamim. It refers to those strong feelings of tenderness and compassion that a mother has for her child.

This is also the kind of mercy that God has for us. When He sees us sunk in the misery of sin, He is not distant from us, but like my mom climbing into the Play Place, He rushes to rescue us. And He doesn’t just rescue us by sending someone else to take care of it, but He Himself becomes man and suffers and dies for us so that we can be with Him forever in Heaven.

At this moment of Redemption, Jesus gave us His mother to be our mother also. Just as Mary gave her “yes” to God at the Annunciation, she also gives her “yes” at the Foot of the Cross to God’s loving plan of salvation even though it means the death of her Son, showing mercy to the entire human race. And this “yes” does not end there, but she continues to show this mercy to all her children who call on her. The mercy she shows to us always paves the way for us to receive God’s mercy.

But for many of us, it can be very difficult to receive mercy because we feel unworthy, or because it is difficult to face our sins. But in spite of this, we need to be open to receive God’s mercy like little children because without it, we are helpless. A child does not do anything to earn the love of his or her parents, but simply receives it as a free gift. In the same way, we need to recognize our need for God’s mercy, to accept that mercy for the free gift that it is, and to thank God for it. Like my grandparents who reminded me that my mom climbed into the Play Place to get me, we can sing with Mary, “The Lord’s mercy is from age to age.”

Father Frank

September 17 – Twenty-Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

There is a story about when St. Margaret Mary Alacoque, who received visions of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, spoke to a priest about her visions. The priest did not want either one of them to be deceived, so he told her that if Jesus appeared to her again, to ask Him one question. He told her to ask Him what the last mortal sin he confessed was. When Jesus appeared to her again, Margaret Mary asked Him the question, Jesus looked at her and said, “I don’t remember.”

Even though God knows everything, after He has forgiven our sins, it is as if that sin never happened. It is truly forgiven. Yet in the First Reading, it says, “The vengeful will suffer the LORD’s vengeance, for he remembers their sins in detail.” In order for us to be forgiven, we first need to forgive. This is what we pray in the Our Father: “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” If our hearts are not open to forgive others, how can they be open to receive forgiveness? 

But how do we forgive? We have to start with what forgiveness is not. It is not saying that what the other person did to us is okay. I think that because we think that this, we end up like the unforgiving servant trying to choke his fellow servant, saying, “Pay back what you owe.”

Instead, we need to acknowledge that what they did hurt us. Sr. Miriam James Heidland, SOLT, says that with Jesus, we even need to make an account of what that person did to hurt us. We do this, not to hold on to what they owe us, but instead to acknowledge the hurt we experienced. But as we do this, we also need to acknowledge that justice is most likely not possible on this earth. That other person might not even be aware that they hurt us or even be sorry.

Because justice is not possible on this earth, we know that God will bring about justice, if not in this life, in the next. Forgiveness is letting go of what they owe us, and instead giving that up to God, Who will bring about justice. Forgiveness is saying that I acknowledge that you hurt me, but I give that hurt, and you, to God.

If God forgives as if He forgets our sins, are we called to forget how that person has hurt us? The Catechism of the Catholic Church says, “It is not in our power not to feel or to forget an offense; but the heart that offers itself to the Holy Spirit turns injury into compassion and purifies the memory in transforming the hurt into intercession.” When we forgive, God can even transform those painful memories into sources of healing for us and the other person.

I also invite you to pray with this Forgiveness Meditation from Sister Miriam: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WTDWS6V3_Ow&t=393s

Father Frank

September 10 – Twenty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time

I remember when I was 12 years old, my dad turned 50 and my oldest sister decided to follow a rule that I believe she created: namely that every 50-year-old man needs a dog! Even though it was a gift for my dad, I had wanted a dog for a long time so you can imagine my joyful reaction. We named her Tippy, and she was a wonderful dog. 

It didn’t take me and the rest of the family too long to find out that the dog was a wonderful scapegoat.  I’m sure you have heard the line, “the dog ate my homework.”  Well for me it was perfect. Tippy made all the dishes dirty, Tippy made the room messy, and Tippy somehow left the toilet seat up! Tippy, as a joke, gave way for me to run away from any responsibility for my actions, and remove any need I had for correction.   

This idea of running away from responsibility and correction isn’t new. This blame game isn’t new, and in fact we see this in the story of Adam and Eve after the Fall. Eve blames the serpent, and Adam blames God!  

What is the Lord asking of us? Our Sunday readings point to the need for and importance of fraternal correction: “Jesus said to his disciples, ‘If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have won over your brother’” (Mt 18:15). We need to be willing to correct each other out of love. The Gospel gives us concrete steps by starting fraternal correction in private, then bringing it up with another person, and if that doesn’t work finally bringing it to the Church.   

To give fraternal correction is hard, especially with the conflict that it brings to light.  So where do we start? How do we grow in one of the most important aspects of our faith? I believe that we need to first begin by being open to correction ourselves. Let’s not jump to excuses and blame but accept in humility that we are not perfect, and that we need to change to grow closer to Christ and one another! Once we realize our own brokenness and need for correction, we are more likely to help our brothers and sisters- not out of judgment, but out of understanding and mercy in order to draw them to the Lord.  (And if that’s too hard, I guess you can always just get a dog!) 

Father Michael

September 3 – Twenty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

I hate vocation stories…or at least I used to. I always struggle with the fact that so many of these stories, after dealing with the twists and turns of that person’s vocational journey, seemed to end with seminary as if it were the solution to all their problems. But I have to tell you that that is not the case, as I learned the hard way.

As I entered seminary, I believed that it would be like my past experiences of college, but when I tried to joke and be myself, it was badly received, so I pulled back and was quiet. I was told that my theology degree would help me get out of introductory classes, but I found myself fighting tooth and nail to prove that I knew anything. And an irrational fear of the human pillar of seminary formation—of being told I wasn’t human enough—was quickly realized in my first formation meeting. I felt like Jeremiah in the First Reading, who said, “You duped me, O LORD, and I let myself be duped.”

In a similar way, in the Gospel we heard last week, Peter has just heard that Jesus would “give [him] the keys to the kingdom of heaven.” But then in today’s Gospel, Jesus turns around and predicts His Passion, which seems to go completely counter to what Jesus had just said to him about the Kingdom of God. So it’s no wonder that he says, “God forbid, Lord! No such thing shall ever happen to you.”

As I continued through seminary, I continued to feel this heaviness, and whenever it became too overwhelming, I would find myself saying to myself: “I don’t want to be here.” The last time I preached, I talked about listening for God’s voice in the silence. But when we listen for God’s voice, there is the risk also of hearing our own or the enemy’s voice. When I brought the situation to my spiritual director, he very simply and bluntly said, “And whose voice do you think that is?”

When I was able to recognize that that voice was not from God, this did not remove the sufferings, but allowed me to see this as part of God’s Plan. Instead of being a passive participant in my life, I felt God calling me to take an active role in my spiritual life. Jesus tells us, “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.”

We are also called to take an active role in our spiritual lives, taking up the crosses that God allows to come into our lives. However, as we carry our crosses, we do not do this alone, but always following after Jesus. I don’t hate vocation stories anymore because I know that it’s only part of the story, that discerning our vocation is part of the Cross, but a Cross that ultimately leads to the Resurrection.

Father Frank