Wednesday, July 19, 2017

Something new for dinner...

Tonight I have some seminarians coming for dinner. It started with one seminarian from a former parish, calling to invite me to dinner, and I persuaded him to let me be his host instead; when he's a priest, he can take me to dinner. Until then, he belongs to, and benefits from, the "Feed-a-seminarian" program.

I invited the two seminarians from this parish to join me -- one could not -- and then another seminarian sent me an email about something else, and I invited him as well.

So, what to cook?

I looked through some recipes I'd saved from Facebook, and found this one. So on Monday, I got what I needed at the store, and a bit ago, I started on it.

First I whipped up the marinade:


I was going to show more pictures of me pouring things in, but I had trouble with the camera on my tablet. It helps if you mash the correct button! I did substitute some garlic paste I already had, for the grated garlic called for. (FYI -- if you click on the video at the link, it will take you to the recipe.) I also goofed and used table salt instead of kosher salt. Oh well.

After mixing up the marinade, I sliced and pounded out the flank steak:


When I was doing it, I got the sinking feeling I'd done it wrong; but now that I see the video, it looks pretty much the same. So next, the meat and marinade go in a big, plastic bag:


I squished it first to get almost all the air out, and then to distribute the marinade; then it went into the fridge. After that?


 First round of dishes. Always clean as you go, if you can.

Now to make the Herb sauce...

Whoops! Not yet. When I came back to the kitchen, I saw the potatoes all washed and ready to go, so I decided to finish preparing them. I worked from this recipe, but modified it a little; I threw in some garlic and red pepper, just because. Here are the cut up potatoes, which I'll spread out on a baking pan after Mass.


 Then I worked on the herb sauce, but I am rushing a bit, so I didn't take any pictures. It's all ready, too. Now I wait for the meat to continue marinading, and then I'll prepare it, before I head over to church for Mass. My plan is to have everything ready to throw in the oven, or on the grill, as soon as I get back from Mass.

So what's left? I have some squash I'm going to saute with some olive oil, salt and pepper; I'll cut that up before Mass if I have time, otherwise I can do that while everything else is cooking.

(Time lapse while I work at my desk...imagine theme from "Jeopardy"...)

OK, now it's 5:40 pm, so I have a few minutes to add a little before Mass...

I just got the flank steak mopped up, layered out, rolled and tied up, thus:





It's a little messier than I wanted; the meat tore a little when I pounded it out, so we'll see what happens when I grill it. For the time being, I covered it with foil and shoved it into the fridge. Right after Mass we'll cook it all up, plus the squash, still to cut up and saute. Check back for more pictures (maybe)!

Update, next day...

Sorry, no pictures. When everything was ready, there was no time to fool around with the camera. But everything turned out pretty well. I left the roast on the grill a few minutes too long, but it was pretty tasty. If I do this next time, I'll marinate it longer. The potatoes were done a little early, so they ended up a little crispy, but still good. The zucchini and squash was just right. We had some leftover wine. And, if any of this seems too pricey, I'll just point out that this was flank steak (a cheap cut), potatoes (cheap), zucchini and squash were donated. The wine was probably about $14, and I paid for that. The one real extravagance was the cheesecake, but that'll last several days. I did buy too much basil and parsley; the basil I'll use later this week, as I plan to make some sauce. The leftover parsley will probably go to waste -- it cost 50 cents a bunch.

One seminarian didn't make it for dinner; he was baling hay with his family until about 10 pm.

Mysterious lights and shadows in the sky!

Father John Zuhlsdorf finds the coolest stuff...

Wednesday, July 12, 2017

Vatican says what 'bread' and 'wine' mean for communion; liberal heads explode



I hate to admit this, but I regularly visit the website of the so-called National Catholic Reporter (perhaps better titled, National Schismatic Reporter, or National "Catholic" Distorter--you get the idea). If it's so bad, why do I read it? Well, two reasons: first, because as bad as it is, it does actually "report" some stories; two, because it's helpful to get different perspectives. And, I confess, for a third reason: sometimes the progressives' unconscious self-parody is hilarious -- if not in the actual articles, then certainly in the comments.

So, today, I read an item there about the Vatican reiterating what has been true for as long as anyone knows: the bread and wine for Holy Communion must be, respectively, wheat bread and grape wine, with nothing added. Mindful that some people have health issues with gluten, and others with alcohol in wine, the document spells out that it is legitimate to use bread with extremely low levels of gluten -- but not without gluten; and similarly, something called mustum, which is wine in which fermentation has begun, but then immediately stopped, so as to yield an infinitesimal alcoholic content. But, the Vatican insists, if no alcohol, it's not wine; grape juice is not wine; and wine made from other than grapes is not the wine Jesus used, so that's a no-go as well. Similarly, if no gluten, it's not wheat bread; and if it's made from other than wheat, it's not the bread Jesus used, so no-go again.

And to be very clear: that means not only is it naughty; it means, it is invalid matter for the sacrament, meaning no sacrament at all. If at Mass tonight (I would never do this!) I brought over a loaf of, say, cornbread, and a bottle of elderberry wine, my praying the Eucharistic prayer would have no effect; there would be no transubstantiation, no sacrament, no Mass. Which is why I wouldn't do it, and if I did, I most likely would never have a chance to do it again.

Here are some choice comments from the N"C"R item (there are nearly 200 comments -- that itself is sadly comical):

Frankly, I am fed up with the insistence that gluten is a required element, but the health and well being of the recipients is irrelevant. These men are not medical experts. Do I actually need to explain the non sequitur here?

...its authentic spiritual validity has nothing to do with its ingredients. It minimalizes the Eucharist by focusing on its earthly matter rather than on what matters.

It never ceases to amaze. These men in the Vatican seem to have no clue whatsoever as to the meaning of the eucharist - of Jesus' meaning when he asked his followers to remember him in this particular way. One hopes that someday at least a few of them will make the breakthrough and begin to understand Jesus' message.

If Jesus had come to 21st century US, He probably would have consecrated pizza and coke. In 1st century Palestine He used the familiar items at hand. I defy anyone to tell me that God does not accept gluten-free hosts as the Body (and Blood) of His Son. It is the faith of His children which confirms the Sacred Mystery, not the grain content of the materials (Emphasis added.)  And...that's Calvinism!

As you are male, you never had to wear a Kleenex on your head in church when you forgot your beret/beanie/hat/scarf!  NB: this tells you what all the caterwauling is really about.

OK, that's enough to give you a sense of things. Along the way, one commenter, without intending to, actually explained quite well why the Church does this:

The Last Supper was a Passover meal, which required the use of unleavened wheat bread.

And, of course, wine made from grapes. And that's all this is about: determining some definition for what counts as "bread" and "wine."

What fascinates me is the "it doesn't matter" argument some used: in effect, who cares what is used for the Mass; why not "pizza and coke"? But then I have to ask: why does the Eucharist matter...at all? If the Eucharist can be anything, then it doesn't actually have to be...anything--right? It can be water; it can be air. If definitions are exclusionary and "scrupulosity," then of course, we must get rid of definitions.

Yeah, it makes my head hurt too.

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

Three lessons from a friend's sudden death

Every few weeks, I get an email from the Archdiocese regarding the death of a priest. Because I know of many elderly priests facing difficulties, such emails, while sad, are not surprising. But I was positively shocked to get one with the name of Father Chris Coleman, my friend who was in the seminary with me, and who was ordained in 2006. The last time I talked to him, a few weeks ago, we had vague plans to get together for dinner. He was 50.

The news reports indicate that he had just finished a round of golf on Sunday afternoon -- it was a beautiful day! -- and he was riding in a car with someone else driving. The driver lost control of the car, it flipped over, and Father Coleman died of the injuries. I don't know anything more about the circumstances, and nothing about what follows is in any way a hint or suggestion about what I think those circumstances are.

Yesterday afternoon I was out driving myself, after learning this terrible news, and three lessons in particular came to the fore:

1. Driving is serious business: respect it.

Nothing defines freedom quite like having a driver's license and a car. We all know older friends or family members who have had to give up driving, and it's a very difficult thing to do. I can remember when I first began driving, and I was a nervous wreck. My first few years driving, I wasn't that great a driver: I had several speeding tickets and few fender-benders; thankfully, nothing too serious. In my more mature years, I have managed to leave all that behind.

So it's easy to get to become blase about driving, forgetting that we are behind the wheels of something weighing close to a ton, capable of being propelled at speeds well over 100 miles per hour. In my lifetime, this casualness has been abetted by a succession of safety measures and conveniences. When I learned to drive in 1978, the car didn't have power steering or power brakes; it was an automatic transmission, but this was still deemed an upgrade from "standard" (i.e., clutch) transmission. Only in 1968 were seat belts mandated for cars, and I can remember riding in cars that didn't have them. Airbags seem like an "only yesterday" sort of thing; and there are many other ways cars are so much safer than they used to be. Injuries and deaths from car accidents were far more common in the past than today. It is very easy today to think of the car practically driving itself (and that's not science fiction anymore), and to allow bad habits to creep in.

Just because bad things don't happen most of the time, doesn't mean they won't happen to you. There used to be a thing called "defensive driving." If you don't know what it is, look it up: it can save your life. The techniques I'm talking about, I learned in driver's ed almost 40 years ago; and while I confess I don't always follow them, I know I'm stupid not to. Things like keeping alert behind the wheel, all the time, keeping an assured distance between your vehicle and whoever is in front of you, and paying attention to what's going on further down the road. Common sense stuff.

Driving is awesome, in all senses. Take it seriously.

2. Driving and alcohol don't mix. It's no secret that in this rural part of Ohio, drinking is a favorite pastime, even for many in their teenage years. A lot of adults wink at it. It's how a lot of folks spend their weekends.

I might point out that getting drunk is a mortal sin, because you are doing serious damage to your ability to make right judgments. To put it simply, drinking causes bad decisions to cascade; and it makes it a lot more likely you'll end up in a situation you may regret the rest of your life, or even seeing your life dramatically altered...or simply ended.

Also, realize that the legal limit for alcohol if you are driving is .08% blood alcohol, which is notably below what it takes, for many (if not most) people, to be "drunk." That is to say, you stop being legally qualified to drive a car well before you sense that you are snockered. Just because you know people who drove "buzzed" or drunk, and came out OK, doesn't confer any magic on you. Only a few months ago, a young man died along Versailles Road one night after drinking too much, and driving.

3. Death can come anytime for anyone. Be ready. Although airplane travel is far safer than driving, there is something about take-off and landing to focus the mind, at least for me. I have been on a plane when I knew I needed to go to confession, and made the most heartfelt act of contrition when it started shaking a bit from turbulence. On the other hand, there is nothing like the feeling of being absolved and being in a state of grace.

Sunday, July 09, 2017

Dreadful hope (Sunday homily)

Stop and think a moment about what we just heard in the Gospel. 
Think about what Jesus said, especially in light of who he is.

He is God in human flesh. The Creator of all things. 
The Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end.

And how did an all-powerful, all-seeing, 
all-knowing God describe himself?

“I am meek and humble of heart.”

“I am meet and humble of heart.”

The first and most basic of the seven deadly sins is pride. 
I can do this. I don’t need your help. I know what I’m doing. 
I need to be the one to fix this. It’s all on me!

Pride. We all have it, and I fear for myself, 
because I think see in myself only a small fraction of all that there is.
Arrogance. Self-sufficiency.

The other day the toilet in the church bathroom was clogged. 
Lucky me, I happened upon it! 
And my thought was, ew! why should I have to deal with this? 
Then I said to myself, “Seriously? Why not me?”

Especially when I think of all the messes 
my parents cleaned up for me – 
and all the filth we ask God to clean up.

“I am meek and humble of heart,” Jesus said. 
“Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me.”

If there is any hope for you, for me – any hope at all – 
it is that we must give up our pride, our self-sufficiency, 
and learn from him. 

Maybe a start will be to ask: 
help me, Lord, to see my pride, and to confess it, and to repent of it. 
Help me to be meek and humble of heart.

I am certain he will answer that prayer. 
And I suspect it will come in ways often unpleasant. 

Bishop Joe Binzer one time said this, to a group of priests, 
about those people we sometimes meet who give them terrible fits. 
He said, be grateful, because they are helping you to grow in holiness! 

I dread the thought of what price I might have to pay 
to become truly meek and humble of heart; 
but I am filled with horror at the alternative, 
and I beg Jesus in his mercy, to save me:
to make me meek and humble, like him.

Monday, July 03, 2017

Starting Liturgy of the Hours in the parish

Last week, after some planning, we began praying the Liturgy of the Hours -- aka, the Divine Office or the Breviary. I lead it at 7:30 am, which means we end before the Rosary, which usually starts about 7:45 am; Mass is at 8:15 am (that is, excepting Wednesday when it's at 6:15 pm).

Some of the planning involved deciding what books to order; I got the slender, "Shorter Christian Prayer," which will be the easiest to use, most of the time; but it has only the major feast days, omitting most saints' days. There are a few times when it will be a little clunky, as was the case on the Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul. We didn't have the proper readings or antiphons which are recited before the psalms, but we made the best of it.

After a week, how is it going? Not bad. We have about four or five people taking part, which is what I expected. And, as expected, it's a little confusing, but we're making it work. I'm explaining things along the way.

So what is the ‘Liturgy of the Hours’? As the name implies, it is liturgical prayer; meaning, it is the corporate prayer of the whole Church; and it is about sanctifying time – so it is customarily prayed at different hours of the day. Like the Mass, the Liturgy of the Hours – also known as the Breviary or the Daily Office – is filled with Scripture; mostly psalms, as a matter of fact.

While there are many forms of prayer, all Christian prayer can be sorted into two categories: “public” and “private.”

Examples of public prayer are all liturgical: Holy Mass, Exposition of the Eucharist, the celebration of sacraments, and the Liturgy of the Hours. They are “public” in this sense: that when a sacred minister – i.e., a bishop, priest or deacon – leads these prayers, the whole Church is praying, even if it’s only happening in Russia, Ohio. When I take a day of rest, and when I go on vacation, I will offer Mass on my own, usually with no one else present. And yet, the whole Church, in a sense, offers that Mass, because Christ himself offers it, through the priest.

This explains why a priest is not free to modify parts of the Mass (or any other liturgical prayer), beyond the options provided. No Mass, offered by me, ever “belongs” to me. Nor does it belong to the people attending it; that’s why if people ask me, “Oh, can’t you do such-and-such on this special occasion?” My answer is the same: I am not free to change the Mass to suit me, or you, or anyone.

The term “private” prayer applies both to traditional devotions, such as the Rosary, as well as spontaneous prayers, either alone or in groups. This doesn’t make them less meaningful, nor does it mean they aren’t powerful; it means they don’t represent an action of the Church as a whole in the way liturgical prayer is.

The heart of the Divine Office is Scripture – specifically, the psalms. And, although we will mostly recite this prayer, it (like the Mass) is meant to be sung. The psalms are the “hymnbook” of the Bible – they were used in the Temple of the Old Covenant, or when people made pilgrimages to the temple. In fact, the first verse of many psalms contains directions on how the psalms were to be sung. For example, Psalm 4 begins: “For the leader; with stringed instruments”; Psalm 5 refers to “wind instruments”; and some refer to melodies which are lost to us.

There are different accounts of how the Liturgy of the Hours/Divine Office originated; but there is no doubt that just as the early Church gathered to pray the Holy Mass, it also prayed the psalms daily. After all, the early Church was heavily Jewish. Just as Jews, then and now, will pray at different times of day, so the Divine Office does the same. Over the centuries, the Divine Office came to be seen as primarily a prayer for bishops and priests, and was chanted by them in the larger churches, or in monasteries. From time to time it has been modified, most recently at the same time that the Mass was reformed in the 1970s. In recent years, there has been a renewed effort to involve laity in the Liturgy of the Hours again. When I was ordained, I promised to offer this prayer every day, with the people if possible, but for the people in any case. So...that's what I'm trying to do.

Sunday, July 02, 2017

'Who is a prophet, and what do they do?' (Sunday homily)

Prophet Elisha, striking the River Jordan (2 Kings 2:14)
The readings raise a question about prophets.
In the first reading, we have the Prophet Elisha. 
And in the Gospel, our Lord Jesus promises that 
“whoever receives a prophet, receives a prophet’s reward.”

So the question we might consider: 
Who is a prophet, and what do they do?

Let’s start with what a prophet does. 
Contrary to what many people think, 
in the Bible, prophecy is not primarily about predicting the future.
Sometimes that is what prophets do, but not necessarily, 
and most of the time, that is not actually what they do.

The essence of a prophet is that he or she is sent to speak for God; 
to speak God’s Word. 
That is what a prophet is: the one who says, “Thus sayeth the Lord.”

In the Bible, prophets were often anointed, like kings and priests. 
And in any case, they were understood to be “anointed” 
by the Spirit of God.

All the prophets of the Old Testament, however, 
were ultimately pointers toward the final and definitive prophet, 
and that is Jesus Christ. 

In the letter to the Hebrews, it says
“In times past, God spoke in partial and various ways 
to our ancestors through the prophets” – 
but “in these last days, he spoke to us through a son.” 
Jesus, in who he is, what he says and does, 
is God’s complete and final word to humanity.

There are other religions that claim to add to what Jesus gave us. 
Mormonism claims that, and so does Islam. 
But our answer as Christians is, no, 
all that God is going to reveal to humanity, has been revealed.

So when people have visions of saints or of Mary, 
these are called “private revelation” – meaning, they don’t add anything. 
That doesn’t mean they aren’t true or worthwhile, 
but for example when Mary spoke at Fatima or Lourdes, 
she added nothing to what we already had 
from Jesus and the Apostles and the Bible.

So are there still prophets? Why does Jesus talk about them?

That brings us to what St. Paul was talking about in the second reading; 
that is, the sacrament of baptism. 

A lot of people way misunderstand what baptism really is.
They think it’s just a special sort of blessing or ritual. 
Baptism is way, way, way more than that.

In baptism, we become part of Christ, and therefore, 
we share in his office of priest, prophet, and king.
The Church is the Body of Christ;
the designated leaders of the Church, the pope and bishops, 
have the authority to teach in Jesus’ name.

But each one of us belongs to Christ, 
so each of us has a prophetic role: 
that is, to speak God’s Word and make it known.
But there’s more. This isn’t just a hat we wear on Sundays.
You and I became entirely new people in baptism. 
We were born again, as Jesus told Nicodemus.

As we just heard Paul say: 
do you not realize that when you were baptized, you died? 
You died with Christ! That means several things. 
It means that we are dying to sin and to the sinful ways of the world.
It means we are embracing Jesus’ death, 
in order to gain access to the Resurrection. 
It means we are taking up the Cross and embracing it.

This is a time to talk about something 
that happens in different ways for all of us, including me.
At some point, everyone will say, 
“God, what you’re asking of me is too hard.” And it is hard.

So God asks people to wait until marriage, 
and to remain open to the gift of life in marriage – 
meaning, no contraception.
God asks people to persevere in marriage – no remarriage.
God asks men and women who, 
because their feelings go a different way, 
to remain chaste as single people, 
if they can’t marry the opposite sex.

Yes, that’s only one of the Commandments, the Sixth.
But these particular truths are ones that, today, our Catholic Church, 
almost alone, proclaims before an incredulous world that says, 
along with many incredulous Christians who likewise say:

Where does this come from? What kind of God asks this of us?

And the answer is in today’s Gospel. The One who said:
If you want to be my disciple, take up your Cross and come with me. 
And when he said “Cross,” he didn’t mean an item of jewelry.

I don’t mean to minimize the trials and challenges. They are real.
But I am saying this to anyone who claims it can’t be true 
because it’s too hard: I don’t know what Christianity, 
what Jesus Christ, you have in mind, 
but it’s not the Jesus of the Gospels.
He never said, follow me, so long as it isn’t too demanding.
Follow me, as long as it doesn’t interfere too much.

And yet, isn’t this supposed to be Good News. 
This sounds like gloom and doom. 
Well, it is Good News, because of what else Jesus just told us:
Whoever tries to save his life will lose it,
and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.

So back to the question I posed at the beginning: Who is a prophet, and what do they do?

You and I are prophets, and what we do is face a choice for ourselves,
which we also present to the world:
Live for yourself, and in the end, that’s all you’ll have.
Live for Christ, live for others, and you will have your sins forgiven, 
a new life, both here and hereafter in the glory of heaven.

You have heard me talk about being intentional disciples, real disciples, 
and helping others to become committed disciples of Christ. 
And you’re going to keep hearing me talk about it.

That’s what this is. 
You and I were baptized into a new life, the life of the Holy Trinity. 
We were enlisted as Cross-bearers, 
marching through this life with Heaven’s Glory reflected in our gaze. 
We fall down, we get back up. 
We get insults or bruises along the way, we give a blessing and keep going.

This is what we signed up for. 
This is what it means to be a follower of Christ.