Assembly Required

It only struck me just now that the car he's building is a "fire bird."  A coincidence?

   Pentecost   B 

Readings

My sister and her family are camping this Memorial Day weekend,

and I went to see them for a little while Friday night.

Someone had given my 9-year-old nephew

his first model car kit—a ’77 Pontiac Firebird—

and he was sitting in the camper excited to get started.

It was a scene right out of my own childhood—maybe yours, too:

a cardboard box full of teeny tiny plastic parts,

an instruction sheet covered with complicated diagrams,

and a tube of sticky glue that promises to dry quickly…then never does.

It’s the very definition of: “Some Assembly Required.”

In recent years,

we’ve heard the word “gathering” a lot in Catholic circles.

The Entrance Chant of the Mass

is commonly now called the “Gathering Song.”

New and renovated church buildings don’t have vestibules;

they have “gathering spaces.”

But if you read official Church documents,

the preferred word you find for the faithful who come to Mass

isn’t a “gathering,” but an “assembly.”

There’s a real difference between the two,

and it’s worthy of our reflection

as we celebrate Pentecost this Sunday.

What do we typically mean when we speak of a gathering?

I think of a get-together like many people will have for Memorial Day:

something casual and social—a party, a picnic, a barbeque.

People gather to mix and mingle.

There’s often no particular reason for it—

no agenda; nothing specific to accomplish.

Many are invited to a gathering;

whoever can make it, comes.

An assembly, however, is rather different, isn’t it?

I think of assemblies in the school gymnasium.

Maybe they’re different today, but when I was still in school

an assembly was always a rather orderly affair:

students were seated by class or homeroom,

there were places for the teachers

(usually where they could keep a good eye on the students),

and the principal had a designated spot right up front.

An assembly is always called with a very particular purpose in mind.

At an assembly, your presence is expected

and your absence is always noted.

Can you begin see what difference it makes

that the Church calls this an assembly

rather than a gathering?

Like my nephew’s model car,

we as God’s people are “some assembly required.”

It’s not enough that we gather—

like so many parts collected in a single box.

The pieces have to be put together,

and that’s the specialty of the Holy Spirit.

The Holy Spirit is given to us

like an instruction sheet for putting the Church together.

He is the Spirit of truth who proceeds from the Father—

sent to guide us into all truth.

We’re not interchangeable parts—

a random gathering of individuals

who happen to pray in the same place at the same time.

No, we are members of one body—

each part, with its own gifts, absolutely vital to the whole.

We certainly see that at Mass:

the priest has his role,

the deacon, servers, readers, musicians,

and ministers of every sort have theirs,

as does the entire assembly of the faithful.

We know full well what confusion it causes

when somebody doesn’t show up to do their designated duty,

or inadvertently takes another person’s task.

And just as your own human body doesn’t function

simply because all your parts are in the right places

(as important as that may be),

so, too, forming the Body of Christ is more

than a matter of merely being in the right configuration.

Each one of us must fully and consciously do his or her part

as outlined in God’s original design.

It’s not enough to occupy a pew!

We need to know our purpose—as individuals and a whole—

and be clear about why we do what we do.

Now, the Holy Spirit isn’t only our instruction sheet;

he’s also the glue that holds all these many parts together.

On Pentecost, the Apostles were enabled

to speak to the people of many nations in one voice—

in a language everybody was able to understand.

What had previously been just a large and very diverse gathering

could now be assembled as one.

Consider how we recite the Creed at Mass.

Each part begins with, “I believe…”

Yes, it is my personal profession of faith,

assenting to all God has revealed.

But it is also the voice of the whole Church speaking as one—

the Church’s collective “I.”

You see, the “glue” of the Holy Spirit unities us,

without ever making us all the same.

A gathering of soloists, each doing their own thing,

is only able to make noise,

while a choir assembled to sing a common song, even in multiple parts,

can produce a most beautiful harmony.

Because it is God who calls us,

we can be so much more than the sum of our parts.

This bond which the Holy Spirit forms

among the disciples of Jesus

is, of course, meant to hold us together

for more than just an hour each Sunday.

That’s why the Spirit is also something

that my nephew’s model car will never need: fuel.

The Holy Spirit is the power that moves things forward.

And fuel, to do its job, must burn.

Do we not find the Apostles marked by fire

after receiving the gift of the Holy Spirit?

What about us?  Do we allow the same Spirit to burn within us?

Would anybody look at us and say,

“There’s an assembly on fire for it’s faith”?

We live in a time that has developed

some incredible technologies for communication,

but we seem to have lost our knack

for building and sustaining authentic community.

We have more ways to connect,

yet are more isolated than ever.

I think of the race to the parking lot that follows most Masses.

The rush to get to the next thing

doesn’t exactly say that we’ve connected on a deep level—

that we’ve been fully assembled—does it?

If it were only because we were in such a hurry

to go out and spread the Gospel!

We must give the Holy Spirit permission to change us—

to glue us together following the pattern laid out by Christ

and then ignite us with his holy fire—

if we are to have any hope of changing the world.

I suspect that model car kit

will occupy my nephew much of this holiday weekend.

I also suspect he won’t have a complete ’77 Firebird by Monday.

Some assembly will still be required.

Likewise, the Church is a work in progress—

assembled not just once, but Sunday after Sunday,

year after year, down through the ages.

While the Church was first begun on Pentecost,

she will only be fully assembled in heaven,

where the risen Christ has gone in triumph before us.

As members of his one Body,

let us each play our unique part, all the while in perfect unity,

that the Spirit sent out by the Lord

may accomplish his mission within, among, and through us,

and thus renew the very face of the earth.

Four for Four

This Thursday I took advantage of a little opening in my schedule to hike a not-so-little Adirondack loop.  Starting at the "Garden" parking area outside of Keene Valley, I first made my way up the Brothers--a ridge of three peaks that opens up on some great perspectives of the Valley and the Great Range of the High Peaks.  So there are the views from the first Brother (2940 ft.)...

...with a pretty neat rock shelter near the summit.

Then there's a view from the second Brother back over the first.

The third Brother (3681 ft.) came with a view of my real destination for the day: the dramatic profile of Big Slide.

Along the route there were a few lovely little streams...

...and some rather stubborn snow.

The trail got a bit steep in some spots...

...but what a view when you get to the top!

Big Slide (4250 ft.) is #27 of the 46 Adirondack High Peaks.  You ascend 2800 ft. from the parking area to get to the top (more than half of it in the first 1.5 miles as you reach the first Brother).  It was a better-than-average place to eat lunch.

I followed Slide Mountain Brook down...

...to where it runs into Johns Brook.  I made a brief detour to check out Johns Brook Lodge, and then enjoyed a nice woods walk out to the Garden--making for a 10 mile circuit (6.5 hours)...and a truly lovely day in the mountains.

Irrelevant Numbers

We shared the news with parishioners at Masses this Sunday that Fr. Justin Thomas has been reassigned after just one year with us.  He'll become the parochial vicar at St. Mary's  Cathedral and Notre Dame Church in Ogdensburg on July 1.  Fr. Scott Belina, currently assigned to the Cathedral and the Chancery, will become the new parochial vicar here at St. André's.  Please pray for both of them and all of our priests in transition.

   Seventh Sunday of Easter   B 

Readings

This week, the Pew Research Center

published it’s latest study of the American religious landscape.

The numbers are quite sobering.

There are almost 8% fewer Christians in this country

than there were just seven years ago.

For many years,

the largest single religious group in the U.S. has been Catholics;

we’ve now been surpassed…

…by those who have no religious affiliation at all—

nearly 23% of the population,

and they’re the fastest growing group.

13% of all Americans used to be Catholic, but aren’t anymore.

Looking up some sacramental records a few days ago

brought the numbers close to home.

50 years ago—in 1965—196 children

received their First Holy Communion in Malone and Chasm Falls;

this May, we had just 30.

Since St. André’s Parish was officially founded on July 1^st,

we’ve had 97 deaths, but only 8 baptisms.

You can see smaller collection numbers in the bulletins.

You can see the empty pews.

Now, I know that locally some folks are saying
that numbers are down because we’ve changed Mass schedules

and realigned or closed churches.

(You should know that,

among the changes Bishop LaValley made on Wednesday,

there will now be one pastor for Chateaugay, Burke,

Constable, Westville, Bombay, and Fort Covington.)

To a point, what folks are saying may be true.

Change is almost always hard to swallow—

and, as many constantly remind me,

that’s especially hard for older folks,

who make up the majority of active Catholics in the North Country.

But let’s be honest:

while a few people leave because of such changes,

the fact of the matter is we simply have to make these changes

because so many have already left.

By this point you’re probably thinking,

“Fr. Joe, aren’t you supposed be preaching the good news?”

True enough!

But this is the reality we must reckon with,

and pretending things are otherwise won’t make it so.

This past Wednesday evening

there was a meeting in Constable for the Catholics of our deanery

concerning pastoral planning in the Diocese.

Several who got up spoke about the need

for the Catholic Church to be more “relevant.”

The Church needs to get with the times, we were told,

to adapt and change a bunch of things.

Church music should sound more like what kids listen to these days.

We should lower our expectations of those receiving the sacraments

so nobody feels left out.

Sermons should be based more on what’s on YouTube,

and less on what’s in the Bible.

Some of the things proposed went so far

that the Church being described

couldn’t be considered Catholic any more.

The great yet unspoken paradox is:

people say that too much change is the problem…

…but more and radical change is the solution!

Should the Church become more like the surrounding world?

Do we like the direction the world is going?

Is the world today in such good shape

that we should take it as a model to follow?

Let’s not forget that this approach has been tried…and failed.

Do you remember the Folk Masses,

back when hip cats still thought folk music was groovy?

The Catholic Church in the U.S.
has made many accommodations to the prevailing culture

in the last fifty years;

if they’d worked as well as some thought they would,

we'd be starting new parishes these days, 

not consolidating old ones.

If we keep trying to play the “relevant” game,

the Church will always be a few steps behind.

Not to mention it gives a dangerously mixed message:

yes, it says, “We’ll do anything to get and keep you”…

…but it also says, “We’re desperate.”

And telling the world you’re desperate

doesn’t exactly communicate that you’ve put your trust in God;

instead, it says you’ve lost your faith.

Certainly, the Church needs to speak in our times and to our times

in a way that our times can understand.

The Church needs to respond in love

to the real needs and concerns of people today.

But while our language and methods can be adapted,

the message can never be altered.

The Church didn’t write the Gospel; she received it.

We don’t, then, get to revise or rework it

to better suit our contemporary tastes.

Still at table with his Apostles the very night before he died,

we hear Jesus fervently, urgently praying for them,

praying for all of his disciples—praying for you and for me.

“Holy Father,” he says, “I gave them your word

and the world hated them,

because they do not belong to the world

any more than I belong to the world.

I do not ask that you take them out of the world,

but that you keep them from the evil one.”

That doesn’t exactly sound like a prayer

for accommodation to the world or relevance to the times!

At that first Eucharist, Jesus does not beg the Father

to consecrate his followers in public opinion—

to set them apart for what’s most popular or convenient.

No, Jesus prays, “Consecrate them in the truth.”

My friends, the pressing issue for our times—

the pressing issue in every age—

is not that the Church ought to conform herself to the world;

it’s that the members of the Church must conform themselves to Christ.

It’s the world that needs changing,

and Christ has given his Church the power to make all things new.

But that power can’t be unleashed until we’re clear

about who’s actually at the center of this enterprise.

Is it all about us, or is it all about Christ?

Where’s the focus?  Who answers to whom?

Who or what do we really worship?

Are we trying hard to be

the “church of what’s happening now”?

Or are we a Church truly striving

for holiness now, and heaven for ever?

A priest driving through the countryside

landed his car in the ditch.

Luckily, a farmer came by to help

with his big, strong horse named Buddy.

The farmer hitched Buddy to the car

and yelled, “Pull, Clover, pull!”

Buddy didn’t move

Then the farmer hollered, “Pull, Prancer, pull!”

Again, Buddy didn’t respond.

Now the farmer shouted, “Pull, Rosebud, pull!”

Still, nothing.

Then the farmer gently said, “Pull, Buddy, pull,”

and the horse easily dragged the car up out of the ditch.

The priest was grateful, but also quite curious,

so he asked the farmer

why he called the horse by the wrong name three times.

“Oh,” the farmer answered, 

“that’s because Buddy is blind

and if he thought he was the only one pulling,

he wouldn’t have even tried.”

The Apostles clearly understood

that there could be no going it alone.

As we find them looking for a twelfth Apostle

to take the place of Judas,

it’s clear that the Christian project isn’t a solo effort.

It requires a shared vision. 

It’s a matter of a common mission.

They must make every effort to be one, as they had heard Jesus pray.

And so, like them, we must stick together.

We must put our energy into making sure we’re on the same page,

rather than attempting to change the script.

We must avoid the temptation to go chasing after the spirit of the age,

and instead relentlessly run after the Spirit of Christ.

“We know that we remain in God and God in us

by the Spirit he has given us.”

The load may be heavy, but we never pull alone.

The Lord Jesus has ascended to his throne in heaven,

but he has not abandoned his Church.

He has given us the Holy Spirit,

who sets the agenda and gives us the strength to fulfill it.

The numbers sure get our attention these days.

But, my friends—it’s not about the numbers!

It’s not about being relevant!

It’s about being faithful.

That’s the only thing that has ever mattered.

That’s the only thing that will ever work.

What He Really Wants

We were celebrating First Holy Communion at several of the Masses in the parish this Sunday, so I depended on the children to help fill in a few blanks in my preaching.  These are just my notes, but I think you'll still be able to understand what I was trying to say.

Update: Over the course of this Sunday, I've learned that moms really like fuzzy red slippers, but really don't like getting fishing poles for Mother's Day...

   Sixth Sunday of Easter   B 

Readings

What is today?  Mother’s Day.

What kind of things do your moms like?  Do your moms not like?

Would you ever give your mom [things not liked] for Mother’s Day?

Why not?  Why give her what she likes?  Because you love her.

Do you love her only this one day a year?  All the time.

To be loved: “to be wanted even when you’re not needed.”

So, you love your moms?  Do your moms love you?

How do you know?  Tells you and shows you.

Just one day a year?  Every once in awhile?   All the time.

Your mother would do anything for you.

Does Jesus love you?  How do you know?

Tells us: in this Sunday’s gospel—words from Last Supper:

            “As the Father loves me, so I also love you.”

Shows us: in many ways, most especially his Cross:

            “There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”

Does Jesus love you only one day a year?  Once in awhile?  All the time.

Jesus would do anything for you.

Do you love Jesus?  How does he know?

Tell him: in prayer.

Show him: by loving each other; by coming to Mass.

At Last Supper, Jesus said: “This is my commandment: love one another”;

            also said: “Do this…in memory of me.”

Jesus told us what he wants.

Just like mom:

            you should give Jesus what he’d really like because you love him.

Jesus really wants to be wanted even when he’s not needed.

At the Last Supper, 

         Jesus took bread and said…“This is my Body.”

And he took a chalice of wine and said…“This is my Blood.”

So when we come to Mass 

            and the priest takes the bread and wine,

            they become…the Body and Blood of Christ.

The Eucharist is Jesus.

And Jesus is…God.

And God is…love.

Which means that the Eucharist is love:

            love we can eat and drink;

            the perfect love of God 

            come to live and work inside of us.

Do we want to be loved only one day a year? 

Do you want to be loving only once in awhile?  All the time.

Eucharist helps us like nothing else can

            to know God’s love for us

            and to show God’s love to others

            because it is love.

That means that coming to Mass 

            and receiving Holy Communion

            is one of the best ways to be loving to others:

            to your mom, and your dad, 

            to your brothers and sisters, and to your friends.

Parents: Taking your children to Mass every Sunday—

            more than the school to which you send them,

            more than all the practices 

            and games and recitals to which you drive them,

            more than any gifts you can afford to give them—

            is the very best way of all to show your love for them.

Most of what you do for your kids

            lasts only for a season or a certain stage of life.

Helping them fall in love with Jesus affects them forever and ever.

Don’t forget that!  Don’t let your kids forget that!

Show them how much you love them by coming to Mass every Sunday.

We have a special day each year

            to express our love for our moms.

We have a special day each week

            to express our love for Jesus,

            and for Jesus to express his love for us.

May you experience the love Jesus has for you today

            as you receive your first Holy Communion

            and may you experience it all the time:

            every time you come to Mass—Sunday after Sunday—

            for the rest of your lives.

  

Right Day, Wrong Trail

On Thursday, I helped a brother priest, who'd help me celebrate my 40th, celebrate his 30th birthday.  Fr. Scott and I spent Wednesday night in one of the lean-tos at Camp Guggenheim and, after a hearty pancake breakfast (and rather leisurely morning), set off on the day's adventures.

Fr. Scott's well on his way to becoming a 46er, and had chosen for us to climb both Street and Nye Mountains--two of the Adirondack's 46 High Peaks.  We set off from the Adirondack Loj rather later than we wanted to (or ought have), and continued along on the level rather longer than seemed right...until we came to Rocky Falls...which made it clear that things we very far from right.

Yes, the trail to Street and Nye is supposed to cross Indian Pass Brook (the same stream we saw here, surging along with spring melt-off), but we'd somehow blown right by our turn about 2 miles earlier, and there really wasn't any way to salvage our intended trip (at least, no reasonable way).  We ate our lunch looking at the falls, and I reminded Fr. Scott that he'd once said to me, "Any day in the woods is a good day."  (I'm not sure he was buying his own advice at that moment.)  Our error was probably for the best, since our delayed start would have made it questionable that we'd bag even one of those peaks, leave alone both of them.  And, hey--they're not exactly going anywhere.

Not wanting this mountaineer to pass such an auspicious day without reaching any Adirondack summit, I suggested a climb up Mount Jo, which Fr. Scott had never done.  We might not have climbed a High Peak, but we'd at least get a good view of a whole bunch of them.

Here you see (L to R) Marcy, Colden, and Algonquin looming above Heart Lake.  And farther to the right/northwest...

...we could, of course, also see Street (center) and Nye (right).  To be conquered another day!

Of the Vine

I've got no homily text to post this week.  Having led our retreat/rehearsal for First Holy Communion on Saturday morning, I had time to prepare to preach...but not to type.

"I am the vine, you are the branches.  
Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit, 
because without me you can do nothing."  John 15:5
 

Nice Cat

The beautiful weather on Thursday took me up Catamount Mountain (3166 ft.), which pretty much stands alone right above the lean to on Taylor Pond where I camped in March--and not all that far away from the lean to on Cooper Kiln Pond where we camped in December.

As you can see, Catamount has two summits: the lower, southern summit (to the right) and the true, northern summit (to the left).  Both are pretty open and rocky, resulting in some amazing views...and some very interesting climbing.

"Climbing" most mountains in the Adirondacks is actually simply hiking uphill, but Catamount changes things up quite a bit.  As you approach the south summit, you come to a "chimney": a narrow crevice in the rock...which is also your path upward.  It got so narrow at the top I had to take my pack off to squeeze through, and there wasn't much of a margin for error down the side.

The trail is not only up, over, and around a whole lot of rock...

...but it's not maintained by the state, so you must often depend on rock cairns left by your predecessors to help you find the best way to the top.

In my book, that all translates into a great deal of fun!

From the south summit you get some daunting views of the north one...

...and from the true summit, you not only get a good look at the south summit below...

...but almost a 360 degree perspective, including a great look at still-snow-covered Whiteface Mountain and--on that very clear afternoon--distant Lake Champlain and the Green Mountains of Vermont.

It was a perfect day to scratch this big cat's back.