It has been a very good week. The best thing about this week was our being able to celebrate the Holy Mass inside our wonderful and beautiful church building for the first time since January 2nd and the second thing of course is that the universe has assumed its proper order as the Los Angeles Dodgers have once more, after 32 long years, been crowned World Series Champions. (Thank you Giant fans for booing at this proper moment) I talked about the sleepless nights as we prepared to come back into the church and I still wake up at times early in the morning with continued worries…just not as bad. But the Tuesday night tension got so bad that during the second inning I poured myself a beer, sat down and was so nervous I didn’t take a drink until almost the 7th inning. In addition, I think I scared my brother priest with the loud whoooooohooooo that came out of my mouth as the 3rd out was recorded and the celebrations began….I had a nice glass of scotch to commemorate the occasion.

So I will talk about faith, reading the signs of the time and learning to trust. When we talk about faith we look to something greater that we are, something often undefinable and difficult to get are minds around and yet faith is something that brings comfort, peace and joy into our lives. When we are able to give ourselves freely, in faith, then there is a movement of love where we are able to let go of our limitations and see the good and greater in our life and the life that surrounds us. “Living the Christian life provides for a growth of faith. There have been many saints who have gone before to guide us, but I like the ones who are simple, like St. Therese of Lisieux. I have chosen her as my namesake because she did ordinary things with extraordinary love.” (St. Mother Teresa from “Do Something Beautiful” September 29) This weekend especially, as we celebrate, All Saints Day, we remind ourselves that faith is a practice of choosing to look forward into the seemingly darkest hour and see the flicker of love shine out to call us forward.

And not to trivialize faith, but with the Tampa Bay starting pitcher mowing down one Dodger batter after another that flicker of light became the hopefulness of change as the manager rushed to the mound with one out in the sixth inning. Reading the signs of the times is important in faith as it is in baseball. We can often get caught up in what we think should be happening and miss the greater movements around us. Recently (in baseball time) the fad of “sabermetrics” has rushed in as the statistical analysis of each player, at bat and fielding position has been graphed out to where at times it looks like the game has become a paint-by-numbers activity rather than the beautiful work of passion baseball truly should be. I am not denying that some of the sabermetrics can be useful but in the sixth inning of the 2020 World Series not reading the sign of the time, the Tampa Bay pitcher was destroying the Dodger lineup and did not need to be changed was the feeling for the game needed. This is our faith life too. Jesus reminds us, “You know how to interpret the appearance of the earth and the sky. How is it that you don’t know how to interpret this present time?”(Lk 12:56) When we begin to track our relationship with God by how many times acts, how many prayers, how many…..you name it, we begin to make our faith robotic where we mission the passion, the forces of grace and love that surround us and pull out of the works of mercy and blessing to punch in the next thing we think we should be doing…we miss God’s whisper to focus rather on the noise of sin and destruction.

Learning to trust is learning to know the other: God, neighbor, friend or enemy. Trust is knowing who we are and how we are called to respond in graciousness. Back to baseball managers; a managers job is to know his players, to read them and understand the ups and downs, when they are on a hot-streak or suffering through a slump. God knows us in this way and He wants us to know him and others in the same way…to read the signs of the time, to have faith and to trust in the talents, the goodness and the blessings of others. “Imagine a soul so closely united to God that it has no need of outward acts to remain attentive to the inward prayer.” (Jean-Nicholas Grou) This is our act of trust.
God Bless
Fr. Mark

The joy and alleluia of last week has turned into the joy and worry of this week. The World Series is going full tilt and we are about to have indoor Sunday services in our Church for the first time since January 1st. I know the lock down began in the middle of March but with the renovation of the church building, which began at the New Year, we haven’t been in the building to celebrate for over 10 months…and we are back. (There is a big smile on my face)

But there have also been the early morning wake ups at 3:00 a.m. with the lists and things that need to be done rolling through my head and my sub-conscience like a bunch a bottles being tossed about in the trunk of the car. I usually go to my Holy Hour in the church at 5:00 a.m. each morning but it has been earlier and earlier as I place my worries, doubts and fears before Jesus and ask for his peace and mercy.
One of the things that age has taught me is: I am not in control of much in my life. I try to be in control…I work really hard at it…and my failures are long and legendary. It started when I was 17 and wanted to join the Marine Corps…I quickly found out that although I wanted to join them…they weren’t so keen on them joining me…when I was 26 and for the first time I really fell in love with a woman…I really wanted her to love me and I did some remarkably stupid stuff to prove my love and to “make her” fall in love with me…but soon realized that the falling in love stuff needed to be mutual. And when I was 38 and began to look at my life and began to be comfortable and at peace with being single, teaching 6th grade and thought, “I’ve got this” and then I made the mistake and went on a retreat where God reminded me I didn’t and showed me a more uncomfortable but more joyous way. And I don’t need to talk about baseball and the ups and downs, the joys and sadnesses that come from being a fan, all the lucky rituals you are sure will work because you only remember when they do and find new lucky socks when they don’t.

These ten months outside our worships space, these 7 plus months of pandemic, shelter-in-place and limited life stuff have been moments of out of our control. The sad part is how often I tried to control this time through creating rituals and schedules that had to be adhered to with zealot devotion where they became the “gods” I could depend on rather than the God I was called to serve. And this is where baseball saved my soul just a little bit.

When the 60 game season began, i was bummed. The National League had caved to the evil of the Designated Hitter (DH) and they talked about doubleheaders with just 7 inning games and all sorts of other crazy rules that sounded more like a beer league softball weekend than the sport I deeply and passionately love. It took a while but as I watched the games I began to feel the rhythm, I still detest the DH and many of the crazier rules never came to pass, and the feel and tension of the game once more entered my heart and I let go of the “way I wanted it to be” to the reality of “this is how it is” in my life. I will complain bitterly about the DH the rest of my life and truly hope the National League returns to real baseball next year…but I don’t get to control that aspect of my life.
This Sunday, my field of play, our beautiful worship space at St. Lucy Parish, will once more be alive…it won’t look exactly like I wish, I will still complain bitterly about certain things but the rhythm, the tension and the beauty of the Sacrifice of the Lamb, the adoration of the people and the living presence of Jesus Christ will fill us just the same…and to that we say Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia!
God Bless
Fr. Mark

Memories are a funny thing and how we remember things is often even stranger. This past week I had a moment of remembering. October 6th is the Memorial of Blessed Marie Rose Durocher SNJM, the founder of the Sisters of the Holy Names. It is from Holy Names College that I graduated from 31 years ago. I thanked the Sisters, on social media, for the great education, the growth in faith and the life long friendships that were fostered in my years as an undergraduate and then studying for my teaching credential. What I remember and don’t remember are often the same things just in different order.

Something else happened on the same day that reinforced this reality of memories. I was reviewing some notes and rereading Matthew Kelly’s book “Rediscover Jesus” and the chapter was #18 “Jesus on Lifestyle” he wrote, “People are a priority for God. People were made to be loved, and things were made to be used. But often we get this confused and many of the world’s problems are caused because we love things and use people…You have heard it said that the best things in life are not things. So what are the best things in life?” (p 84-85) The three things I thanked the Sisters for were not things but rather the gift of something that went beyond the material of the world and into the very heart of what it means to be a human being, a person in community, a person seen and made in a dignity that goes beyond the marketplace.
Jesus reminds us clearly in the Gospel about this priority when he told his disciples then as he tells us now, “I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you.” (Jn 15:15)
I am positive many people when they find out that my degree was in Philosophy would argue, “Of course you will say that…that is what philosophy students always say.” But I would also say one of the greatest gifts and joys (and terrors at times) was the intimate and small class size we enjoyed and endured. Sitting in a philosophy seminar with only a handful of classmates made for fun and joyous learning as well as the hope and fear that your classmates had read what was required for the day. But more importantly it brings back those three things.

Education—each class I took drew something greater out of me and helped to make me into a better person, not just by the knowledge gained but more importantly in the forming of a conscience of relationship of the line of human history that is touched by divine inspiration. Whether it was a class on metaphysics or children’s theater, each sparked a greater awareness of our common call to the good and holy.

Faith—It was there that I fell in love with the Mass. I had attended Mass before out of duty but on the campus and in chapel with the Sisters where my love for the Mass became ingrained in my soul. It was also in my greater love of scripture where I was challenged to imagine Jesus laughing with you in your trials and struggles. It was there were began to developed an adult faith in seeking God’s will in my life.

Friendship—like most people who attend university, life long friendships and often the deepest friendships are formed. More than that it was the Sisters taking a chance on a kid from Idaho with a spotty academic record, a Marine Corps Vet, and a wandering soul, and welcoming him into a school of love.
Thank you to the Holy Name Sisters.

Blessed Marie Rose Durocher…pray for us.

God bless
Fr. Mark

“From infancy to death human life is surrounded by their watchful care and intercession. ”Beside each believer stands an angel as protector and shepherd leading him to life.”Already here on earth the Christian life shares by faith in the blessed company of angels and men united in God.” (CCC #336)

On this day, October 2, the Catholic Church celebrates our Guardian Angels. The above quote from the Catechism reminds us that from the moment our life begins we are surrounded and guarded by the angels and in particular our Guardian Angel. The place of angels in the life of the Church is very specific, beginning with their presence in both the Old Testament and of course in Jesus’ own words of teaching in the Gospels, in the New Testament and the tradition of the Church, about angels in the service of God’s creative goodness.
Let’s talk about our Guardian Angels. First and foremost…Angels exist. We are not talking about the pretty delicate figures that are often drawn in artist renderings…nor are we talking about the sweet little cherubs nakedly floating about shooting the lovelorn with arrows of desire…and we are not talking about the angels that are depicted in the movies and television programs of popular culture…we are talking about the angels created by God who surround us in grace and peace.

“St. Augustine says: “‘Angel’ is the name of their office, not of their nature. If you seek the name of their nature, it is ‘spirit’; if you seek the name of their office, it is ‘angel’: from what they are, ‘spirit’, from what they do, ‘angel.’ With their whole beings the angels are servants and messengers of God. Because they “always behold the face of my Father who is in heaven” they are the “mighty ones who do his word, hearkening to the voice of his word”” (CCC #329)

We often hear people say, “She/he is my guardian angel” of friends and family members who care for a person in a holy and grace filled manner. But once again we are not talking about that. Angels exist and I have heard many stories of mysterious encounters with strangers who show up out of no where and help in a time of need and then just as mysteriously slip away.
Sr. Maria del Rosario MESST, shared with me the story of when she and another sister were driving through the Andes Mountains and their jeep slipping off the road and was perched precariously on a steep hillside above a deep ravine when a stranger, a strong young man, shows up with a rope and pulls the jeep to safety. They thank him and as they drive off, they look back and he is gone.
Others have told stories of being injured or lost and a stranger shows up in kindness to care for them for a short while and then seems to be gone before being thanked.
I was once told a story by a young man who was in hospital with a serious injury and for days was comforted by the words, actions and presence of a nurse only to be told when he asked about her that no one knew who she was or any of the nurses fit this particular description.

An old sailor once told me that during World War II his ship was struck by a torpedo and with fire raging about him he thought he would surely die, only to have a had reach out and grab him and pull him to safety. He thanked the sailor who helped him only later realizing that he had never seen the person before in the ships company and never saw him again.
Oh, and I am positive and sure that my guardian angel has helped me get home, kept me safe and turned me from certain paths during the foolishness of my youth and certainly has guided me in my continued search for holiness and blessing today.
Angels are real….and don’t forget to thank you Guardian angels and ask for their help.
God bless
Fr. Mark