St. Gaspar Remained True to his Mission

Solemnity of Saint Gaspar

By the V. Rev. Jeffrey Kirch, C.PP.S.

This time each year, Missionaries of the Precious Blood around the world celebrate our founder, St. Gaspar del Bufalo, whose feast day falls on October 21.

The Solemnity of St. Gaspar may be moved to the nearest Sunday—which this year is October 22, when the Church is celebrating World Mission Sunday. It is appropriate for our favorite Missionary, who never left his home country of (what is now) Italy, but had a vision of a thousand tongues proclaiming the merits of the Precious Blood of Jesus.

St. Gaspar remained true to his mission of preaching and demonstrating the great love that Jesus showed in the shedding of his Precious Blood, right up until Gaspar’s death on December 28, 1837. Weakened by his constant ministry to people who were struck by a cholera epidemic in Rome, St. Gaspar was called “a victim of charity.”

May we all remain true to the mission that God places in our hearts. It is that mission that gives our lives meaning. May we live so that others are drawn to the great mission of the followers of Christ, to love one another as Jesus loves us, and to convince all people that they are worthy of such love. St. Gaspar del Bufalo, pray for us!

 

The V. Rev. Jeffrey Kirch, C.PP.S., is the provincial director of the United States Province. Previously, he served as the secretary general of the worldwide Congregation and was also in ministry at Saint Joseph’s College in Rensselaer, Ind., of which he is an alumnus.

Growing Up Gaspar

Exploring the early years of our founder, St. Gaspar, whose feast day is October 21.

If you’ve ever seen an episode of “Downton Abbey,” or watched Disney’s “Beauty and the Beast,” you know that there’s a lively and bustling milieu going on behind the scenes at a palace.

Cooks and bakers, maids and valets, groomsmen and groundskeepers, all working long days to keep up appearances, in Italy, la bella figura, a fine appearance or impression.

That was the world in which St. Gaspar del Bufalo, our founder, born in 1786, grew up. Gaspar’s father, Antonio, moved the family to the Altieri Palace (Palazzo Altieri) when he took a job there as a cook. Gaspar was one year old.

While his father was part of the working class, life in the environs of the palace, across the street from the impressive Church of the Gesù gave Gaspar and his brother, Antonio, his only sibling, a measure of protection against the harsher aspects of life in Rome in the late 18th century.

The best and most complete description of St. Gaspar’s early life is described in the definitive biography of the saint’s life written by Amilcar Rey, C.PP.S., the postulator of Gaspar’s cause for sainthood, published in 1950.

“Rey paints a rather glowing picture of what life was like in Rome in those days. It seems, in Ray’s view, that everyone was jolly,” said Fr. Jerry Stack, C.PP.S., who served six years as secretary general of the congregation in Rome and was the archivist at the generalate. “Rome’s population at the time was around 100,000 people, much smaller than it is today. Its boundaries did not go on much beyond the walls. Where our generalate is today was probably farmland.

“Many of the people of Rome would have lived in grinding poverty. Afflictions like head lice and other skin conditions were very common. The city was dangerous, with a murder rate of something like 400 homicides per year. There were many babies who were abandoned, given up to convents and raised by nuns.

Gaspar was never abandoned by his devoted parents. The del Bufalo family lived downstairs at the palace, with the other hired help. “The Altieri Palace really is very grand. It was built in the 17th century by relatives of Pope Clement X. Gaspar’s family lived in what today we would call a garden apartment; it was probably relatively comfortable.”

Early in his life Gaspar displayed an interest in spiritual matters, and a determination to serve the Church. When Gaspar was 10 or 11, Fr. Stack said, he and two of his playmates who also lived at the palazzo, Maria Tamini and Pippo Berga, decided to become missionaries and run off to Turkey. Maria was concerned because she was a girl, so her friends told her to “disguise yourself as a man.” She stole a pair of pants from her brother. But their plans were thwarted by their parents before the young missionaries could set sail. Gaspar remained friends with them throughout his life. Maria became a nun and Pippo became a monk.

Gaspar knew from an early age that he wanted to be a priest. He asked to join an order of Benedictines who ministered out of Santo Stefano, a church that was near by the palazzo, but he was turned down, “probably because he was too young,” Fr. Stack said.

He was influenced by his mother, Annunciata, who was devoutly religious, and his father, who was described by C.PP.S. historian Fr. Andy Pollack as “a big-time operator.”

Antonio del Bufalo had “all kinds of money-making schemes,” Fr. Stack said. “He put on plays; one biographer said that he organized soccer matches, though I’m not sure soccer existed at that time. It might have been a game more like lacrosse. Antonio never was terribly successful, but he was a good breadwinner and provided for the family.”

Gaspar’s parents supported him in many ways. “His parents made sure he got a good education,” Fr. Stack said. “From a fairly early age, he went to the Collegio Romano, founded by the Jesuits, a block or two away from his home. The Collegio educated adolescent boys up to their preparation for the priesthood. While studying there, he became the president of the Santa Galla Hospice when he was 20 years old. It was a fairly large operation with room for 200 people.”

Young Gaspar could have been described as a joiner—for instance, he belonged to a burial society whose nickname was the “black sacks,” named for the black habit they wore. He saw the value in joining with others to work toward a common goal—to build community, such as the Congregation he formed in 1815, which is still carrying on his mission today.

Becoming Messengers of the Good News

By Fr. Joe Uecker, C.PP.S.

To better understand our readings for today, we ought to go back a few weeks.

Three weeks ago, you recall Jesus telling the story of the workers hired at various hours, but all receiving the same pay. The leaders of Israel do not understand.

Two weeks ago, Jesus told the story of the two sons: one said yes but did not go to work. The other said no but changed his mind and worked. Even with Jesus saying that the prostitutes and tax collectors would enter the Reign of God before the leaders, they did not repent.

Last week we heard Jesus tell the story of the owner who sent servants to get the rent from the vineyard. They mistreated and killed the servants, and even the son of the owner. So, Jesus tells them that the Reign of God will be taken from them and given to those who will produce fruit.

Jesus has been trying to tell the leaders of Israel that they need to change and to think more like God thinks:

  • to be generous and rejoice at the good fortune of others
  • to be able to turn from evil and do good and to forgive when others repent
  • to realize that just belonging to God’s people is no guarantee
  • and to know that just showing up is not enough. God wants our good works and God wants us to be messengers of the Reign of God.

The operative word here is change. Change is not easy. In my experience, the only people who like change are wet babies.

If we look at our first reading, Isaiah tells us God has chosen the Jewish people to be messengers of the Good News. “On this mountain” is Isaiah’s name for Jerusalem, the people of God.

Notice how Isaiah sees Israel as the center of God’s activity. God is using Israel as messenger of the Good News for all the nations.

God now uses us to share the Good News. At least God wants to use us. If you ask people why we are baptized, most people will say “So that I can go to heaven.” That can sound rather selfish: “So that I can go to heaven.” Would it not show a greater concern for others to say: “I am baptized so that God can use me as an instrument of Good News to others.” But in our self-centered culture, we don’t always think that way.

I’ve said this often, but I am not convinced that many people believe it. If they did believe it, why would the celebration of the sacraments of initiation—baptism, confirmation, Eucharist—so often be the end of involvement in the Church rather than the beginning? It often happens that once a person has received these three sacraments, it is “Adios, see you later, maybe when I want to get married,” rather than “Okay, now I’m ready to be sent out to serve.”

A man goes to the police academy and spends a good bit of time studying and practicing. He passes the tests and he is drives around with an experienced officer. Then comes the day of his graduation. His wife is there to pin his badge on him. Everyone congratulates him. The next day he tells the chief: “Thanks for everything. It’s been good to be with you. I wish you all good luck. You won’t be seeing me around anymore.”

We would say he is crazy; yet that happens in the Church all too often.

Do you see how different our Church would be if we lived our baptism each day instead of considering it just as our ticket to heaven?

  • We would not hesitate to contact someone we haven’t seen at Mass lately.
  • We would ask them if there is any way we could help them.
  • We would gently encourage young people to hold off till marriage before having sex.
  • And on and on.

One might well ask: But isn’t it important to think about going to heaven? It is. But that is a result. If we live our baptism, if we are messengers of the Good News of Jesus. Then when we die, we will not have to worry about going to heaven. Jesus will welcome us with open arms: “Well done, good and faithful servant; enter into the joy of your Lord.”

By being concerned about others more than ourselves, we will gain entrance into the heavenly banquet feast. Others will thank us for having shared the Good News with them, and we will be assured of having our wedding garment.

Blessed are those who are called to the wedding feast of the Lamb.

 

A native of Fort Wayne, Indiana, Fr. Joe Uecker, C.PP.S., has spent over 40 years in ministry in the Diocese of San Angelo, Texas. He served as pastor in San Angelo, Sweetwater, Abilene and Odessa. Since retiring in 2011, he continues to live in Odessa.

Out of the Ashes, New Hope Rises

By Fr. Joe Nassal, C.PP.S.

Growing up on a farm, CP Estes knew her family had burned the land from time to time because “the ash made tired ground more fertile again.” But after one such burning, she asked her uncle what he would plant in the field and was surprised when he told her, “I will seed nothing.” Her uncle told her he would leave the landed unseeded “as an invitation.”

For just as it “was a blessing to welcome the stranger, to give comfort to the wanderer, and especially to the weary traveler,” her uncle told her, “So, too, the land has the hospitality of the true host. For the earth is so patient. It takes the seed, the weed, the tree, the flower; it takes the rain, the grain, and the fire. It allows and invites entry. It is the perfect host.”

Practicing hospitality is a hallmark of our Precious Blood spirituality. Unfortunately, many in our world have failed to listen to what the Earth seeks to teach us about hospitality. Sometimes it takes hurricanes and floods and wildfires to get our attention about climate change and global warming.
Our unwillingness to listen to the Earth, to learn from nature, is also reflected in our relationships with one another, especially with people from other cultures or creeds, with people who hold different views or who see through a different lens than we do.

Both the first reading from the prophet Isaiah and the parable from Matthew’s Gospel speak of being good stewards of God’s vineyard. In the parable, the tenant farmers go to the extremes by not only refusing to offer hospitality to those sent by the owner of the vineyard for his share of the produce but turning to violence. They even kill some of the messengers the owner sends to negotiate with the grape growers. Even when he sends his own son, the farmers “seize him, drag him outside the vineyard, and kill him.”

The parable reminds us how redemption and new life come out of ruin. The rejection suffered by Jesus will be the means of salvation for the world. Jesus is “the stone rejected by the builders” that becomes the cornerstone of a new creation.

In the vineyard of today’s world, the harvest of justice seems to be far off. Instead of harvesting hope, justice and peace in this vineyard, so many people taste only sour grapes of wrath, of war, of violence, and exclusion.

In these dangerous times, we draw some measure of hope—and a large challenge—from the message of St. Paul in the second reading. Our challenge is to cultivate an attitude that Paul describes: “Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God.” If we live the qualities Paul outlines—truth, honor, justice, purity, graciousness and love—then “the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”

All of us have anxieties, all of us claim more than a few fears, and all of us have known failures even after our best efforts. There is certainly more than enough to be anxious about in our world today, but our challenge is to trust that in our prayer, when we live with grateful hearts, we will know “the God of peace will be with us.”

As people who work and pray in the vineyard of the Precious Blood, we believe it is out of the ashes that new hope will rise. At every Eucharist, we celebrate how God takes our failures and transforms them into a future full of hope. For it was on the night he was betrayed, that Jesus gave us the greatest of gifts, his body and blood.

Though at times we feel like tired ground, worn out and weary of life, unable to produce a harvest of justice; though at times we taste the bitter disappointments of life and respond with sour grapes; though at times sickness and loss and the death of loved ones stop us in our tracks, we proclaim our belief that God will continue to bring new life, new hope, and new growth out of the ashes of our lives.

Fr. Joe Nassal, C.PP.S., a noted author, preacher and retreat leader, also serves as vice provincial director of the Missionaries of the Precious Blood, United States Province.

Remember Your Mercies, O Lord

Brother Tom Bohman, C.PP.S.

Life is not fair. Among my favorite Ohio professional sport teams, I note that there are many rocky roads. We wish that we would always be on the winning side but as in life, we find that we are tested in our loyalties. It seems that faith also tests our loyalties. God demands our loyalty and then extends his mercy.

God’s mercy is always present. God is good all the time. There are good days and bad days. God reminds us today that we are blessed. Many times we stray from the Lord. We seek our own ways away from what God calls us to. Life is easier when we try to glimpse the many good things he gives us.

Psalm 25 and Ezekiel 18 speak of God’s justice and God’s mercies. We remind ourselves that we dedicate ourselves to God, we pray and worship as Catholics. We are generous in giving alms. Yet we also admit that we can do better in all we do and that we do not always stay on the path of righteousness.

The readings today are brief and to the point. Philippians 2 and Matthew 21 continue our journey towards faithfulness. Jesus challenges the people to do the will of his Father. We should be like the first son, whose path eventually seeks the will of God. The most important thing is that God allows us to find the way and that we indeed do what is right.

The writer of Matthew points towards future challenges by the priests and elders on Jesus’ journey towards Calvary.  God is merciful. We ask God for His mercy in all of challenges in life. Our eye is on heaven well beyond baseball championships.

Brother Tom Bohman, C.PP.S., is in ministry at St. James the Less Church in Columbus, Ohio.

Fr. Leon Flaherty, C.PP.S. 1935-2023

Fr. Leon Flaherty, C.PP.S., 88, died on September 29, 2023, at 10:20 a.m., in the infirmary of St. Charles Center, Carthagena, Ohio. He had been in failing health.

He was born on July 10, 1935, in Superior, Wisc., to Michael and Emily (Jaques) Flaherty. He entered the Congregation in 1949 at Brunnerdale, the Congregation’s former minor seminary near Canton, Ohio.

Fr. Flaherty was ordained on June 10, 1961, at St. Charles.

After his ordination, Fr. Flaherty served as an instructor at Brunnerdale, the Congregation’s high school seminary near Canton, Ohio. In 1970, he was named director of vocations and later became director of formation. He was also the chaplain for firefighters in Jackson Township of Stark County, Ohio.

In 1978, Fr. Flaherty was named to the retreat team at the retreat center in Maria Stein, Ohio, where he also participated in Marriage Encounter weekends, a ministry he found very fulfilling. He was also known for offering spiritual direction that was life-giving and prayerful.

During that time, he was elected to the leadership of the Congregation. In 1982, he was elected vice provincial director of the Cincinnati Province. He served on the general curia of the worldwide congregation from 1983–89, living in Rome during that time.

Fr. Flaherty then continued his retreat and renewal ministry, moving to Columbus, Ohio, in 1989. In 2000, he returned to parish ministry in the Diocese of Superior. From 2000-01, he was the associate pastor at St. Anthony’s parish in Superior; then from 2001-02 he was the associate pastor at Queen of the Universe parish in Woodruff, Wis. Fr. Flaherty served as the associate pastor of the Cathedral of Christ the King in Superior from 2002-09. During that time, he was also active in the Twin Ports Ministry to Seafarers, an interdenominational service to the sailors working on the Great Lakes freighters. He also ministered from 2009-12 as senior associate pastor of St. John the Baptist Church in Whiting, Ind.

Fr. Flaherty returned to Superior in 2012 in his retirement, but he enthusiastically entered into ministry at the Cathedral of Christ the King there, presiding at Masses and assisting in many other ways. There he was honored with the Lumen Christi Award by the Cathedral School for his outstanding priestly service in the U.S. and Italy, but especially in Superior.

His ministry in Superior continued for 11 years until September 2022, when poor health caused Fr. Flaherty to move to St. Charles where his Community could care for him. The two goodbye parties for him hosted by the Cathedral staff were full of well-wishers who were sorry to see him go, but grateful for his ministry.

Fr. Flaherty had a pastoral approach to people, reaching out with his heart in all his many ministries. Retreatants and parishioners would often ask him, after he preached, “How did you know that was what I needed to hear?” His response was that before he would preach, he asked God to let the people hear what they needed to hear.

With a Missionary spirit, he went where he was called and he truly loved his Community, but part of his heart was always along the shores of Lake Superior, and with his family. When he drove north toward Superior, he would reach a point where he could see the hills of Duluth, and he would know he was home. To return there to minister near the end of his life meant a great deal to him, and he continued to serve the people of God as long as he could.

Survivors include his brother, Thomas (Phyllis) Flaherty, Superior; and his sister, Carol Zowin; several nieces and nephews, great-nieces and great-nephews. In addition to his parents, he was preceded in death by a brother-in-law, Thomas Zowin.

A Mass of Christian Burial will be celebrated at 2 p.m. on Tuesday, October 3, at St. Charles Center, with Fr. Andrew O’Reilly, C.PP.S., presiding. Fr. Jerome Stack, C.PP.S., will be the homilist. Burial will follow in the Community cemetery.

Viewing will be held at St. Charles from 10:30 a.m. until Mass begins.

Memorial contributions may be made to the Missionaries of the Precious Blood United States Province.

From Grumbling to Gratitude

By Fr. Ben Berinti, C.PP.S.

Arriving at Brunnerdale High School Seminary at the tender age of 14, I entered a vast ocean of experiences, sometimes the waves throwing me onto the shore, and sometimes dragging me out into the deep. Trying to fight the onset of homesickness, I wandered into our spiritual reading library, located just off the chapel, hoping that my immersion in holy literature would slow the tears.

For some reason, a little wisp of a book caught my attention. The text was already 11 years old when I laid my fingers to the spine in 1972, but its title and content continue to challenge me now 62 years since its original publication. I speak of J. B. Phillips’ Your God Is Too Small.

Such is the challenge at the heart of Matthew’s wonderfully annoying parable of the landowner and his hired workers. Truth be told, when faced with similar situations of uneven distribution of material, physical, spiritual, intellectual and emotional goods in our own lives, I suspect we answer the landowner’s question, “Are you envious because I am generous?” with a rousing, “You’re darn right I am!”

The prophet Isaiah and the words of Psalm 145 clearly lay out the vastness of God’s qualities: generous, forgiving, gracious, merciful, slow to anger, abundantly kind, compassionate—and all of these are the channels through which God’s justice flows.

Our God is too small when our sense of God’s justice is measured on scales intended to “balance.” Our God is too small when we argue with God that God hasn’t been “fair.” Our God is too small when we are humbled to receive God’s gracious mercy but are unwilling to see it dispensed to those whom we feel haven’t yet “paid the price” for their sins. Our God is too small when we call down the “wrath of God” on those whom we believe deserve the heat because of their poor choices. Our God is too small when we see God’s presence in one set of people more than in another set of people.

Mercy, prodigal forgiveness, reconciliation, giving more than is deserved—all speak of our God, whose gestures of love and healing are never cramped. Should these qualities of God seem strange to our Community, which is rooted in the charism of Christ’s kenotic gift of his Blood? I hope not.

Moved by the self-emptying, expansive gift of Christ’s Blood on the Cross, we are invited into an expansion of our minds and hearts. Paul speaks to the Philippians of “magnifying Christ”—enlarging the Christ who dwells within and around us through the bountiful grace of the Holy Spirit. We will find a greater capacity to embrace a larger rather than smaller God, the more we magnify Christ in our seeing, thinking and deciding.

So many years ago, I found comfort as a timid, homesick teenager in the yellowed pages of J. B. Phillip’s tiny little book because he introduced me to a God who was large enough to embrace what I was too small to grasp.

In those closing words the landowner speaks to his grumbling servants, we find the invitation to gratefully embrace the expansive generosity and justice of a God whom we often make too small.

Can we move from grumbling to gratitude?

 

 

Fr. Ben Berinti, C.PP.S., is the pastor of Immaculate Conception Church in Melbourne Beach, Fla. He is also a member of the provincial council of the Missionaries’ United States Province.

Are We Forgiving Each Other?

By Brother Brian Boyle, C.PP.S.

The three readings touch on forgiveness and compassion for one another. I want to focus on the interconnectedness of the human family and the implications of that.

The Sirach reading gives practical guidance on forgiving others who have hurt us. Sirach asks, how can we ask the Lord for forgiveness when we fight with our neighbors? It is as if he wants to say, “Get real, if the Lord punishes you, don’t come crying to me.”

Paul speaks directly on the interconnectedness of each other through Christ. We are all part of Christ’s body. Making conflict with each other only hurts the body. Practicing forgiveness and compassion with each other strengthens it.

In the Gospel, we hear the parable of the unmerciful servant. A modern re-telling of this parable might look like this: There was a CEO of a corporation who declined to take administrative action upon a supervisor who begged for forgiveness. Upon leaving the CEO’s office, the supervisor fired a staff person for a petty infraction. Word got back to the CEO. He then turned around and fired the supervisor.

Leaders don’t lead in a vacuum. They need the support of the people who follow them. Practicing forgiveness makes the body of people stronger. My friend and colleague enlisted in the U.S. Army upon high school graduation. One day he neglected to read a duty list and he found out he was 15 minutes late to a scheduled guard duty on his base. He describes how his commanding officer held him accountable without taking administrative action on him. This experience made him a better soldier and he used that experience in how he led other soldiers. He uses that experience in leading a church congregation today.

What if the Messiah comes and nothing changes? That depends upon us. The Lord has probably forgiven us many more times than we would care to know. The Lord forgives us but is more than likely not going to force us to forgive each other.  No Jedi mind tricks. Forgiving each other is our responsibility.

 

Brother Brian Boyle, C.PP.S., is a hospital chaplain in Northwest Indiana. He is also the associate director of Companions (lay associates) of the Missionaries of the Precious Blood.

What If We Lived Up to Our Words?

By Fr. Ben Berinti, C.PP.S.             

When you live in and pastor a beachside parish as I do here in Melbourne Beach, Fla., people are constantly coming and going. There are weekend sand and surf warriors, winter residents, accidental tourists and then regular parishioners, especially those lucky enough to be retired, who go off to visit far-flung children and grandchildren on a frequent basis.

All of this coming and going puts me in mind of the fundamental human wanderlust that pushes us to dream about, in the words of the classic Dr. Seuss title, “Oh, the Places You’ll Go.”

Several years ago, Fr. James Stephen Behrens, a spiritual essayist whom I greatly admire, reflected upon the beauty and the power of the written word to take us places:

[Words] are like little magic carpets…the words tingle with that power of bringing another person to a place, a place that the words evoke in the mind and heart of the reader.

He goes on to pose this intriguing question: “Wouldn’t it be something if we really went where words spoke about?”

This challenging question might be of particular importance for our province and Congregation, since the power of words and the Word of God is a core value of the charism bequeathed to the Missionaries of the Precious Blood by our Founder St. Gaspar.

As an avid reader and writer, as well as proclaimer of words and God’s Word, I firmly believe that words indeed “tingle,” as Fr. Behrens conjectures, and they can take us to the places that they evoke. I even believe that we can become the people whom we read and speak about when we take words to heart!

It is no exaggeration to say that new worlds have been inspired and brought to life through the power of reading and reciting magnificent, imaginative words.

As people steeped in a charism, a gift for the Church at large, that puts a premium on the transformative power of words, especially when we gather around the Word of God and the enacted “words” of the Eucharist, wouldn’t it be something if we really went, both as persons and as a Community, to the places about which we speak in prayer, song and in sharing the stories of God within the Eucharist?

Can we imagine? What if we really did go to that “place” where we knew ourselves, down deep within our guts, to be totally, unconditionally accepted, loved and healed by God whenever we pray: “Lord I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word, and my soul shall be healed?”

What if we really did go to that “place” where “grace and peace and the communion of the Holy Spirit” bound us ever more closely to one another so that no one would ever feel alone or abandoned?

What if we could end up in that “place” where we were actually “safe from all distress?”

What if, in the course of the Eucharistic prayer, we already began to turn our Eucharistic table into a “place” where “people of every race and tongue” felt completely welcomed and affirmed and knew without a doubt that they belonged?

What if we really did go that “place” of peace and unity every time we extended our hands and hearts, and the words “Peace be with you” fell from our lips?

What if every time the presider anointed a new Christian in the sacrament of Baptism, and we heard the words proclaimed, “You are anointed, as Christ was, priest, prophet and king,” we entered into the “place” where we truly offered ourselves in prayer as priests; where our actions on behalf of justice were bold and strong enough to be deemed prophetic; and where we rose up with gusto to minister to the needs of the poor as the servant king Jesus modeled for us?

In a faith and practice that quite frankly is overloaded with words (not to mention a Congregation that has produced a plethora of mission statements, assembly acta, corporate statements, and much more), perhaps it is healthy to be reminded that the words of our prayer, our Scripture, our liturgy then, are more than “words”—they are enactments. We mean, and we are called to do, what we say!

If this were not the case, then our celebration of the Lord’s Supper, the Eucharist, would be in vain, would merely be playing around and pretending. Our witness as Missionaries of the Precious Blood, bonded to the proclamation of the Word, would be reduced to a thousand tongues blowing hot air rather than a thousand tongues energizing people for healing, reconciliation, and renewal.

Wouldn’t it be something if we really went where words spoke about?

Where’s the next place you plan to go?

 

 

 

Fr. Ben Berinti, C.PP.S., is the pastor of Immaculate Conception Church in Melbourne Beach, Fla. He also serves on the provincial council of the United States Province, Missionaries of the Precious Blood.

By Fr. Matt Keller, C.PP.S.

Paul in our scriptures today instructs us “to love one another” (Romans 13: 8). On the surface we like this instruction, this instruction gives us a warm fuzzy feeling inside, and many easily jump on board to follow this instruction without giving any thought. I mean who would object to loving one another?

It is easy to love another who thinks like me, and it is easy to love another who listens to me. But can I love another who is opposite of me, who thinks differently than me, and who does not listen to me? When I think about the one who is opposite of me and the invitation to love, this invitation has me second guessing myself—not so much if I could follow this instruction but if I even want to. It can be hard to love someone who is different.

In our Scriptures today, through Ezekiel and Jesus we are given examples to love in a way that can make us feel uncomfortable. We are instructed today on the importance of confronting the wicked and sinners about their wrong. We may like the idea of confronting the wicked and sinners, but sometimes doing this can make us feel very uncomfortable. Many, me included, fear the negative response that I might get when I speak up. Will they even listen to what I have to say?

Ezekiel points out if we do not speak up, the wicked will die because of their sin, and we will be responsible for their death because we did not speak up. We do not want to be responsible for another person’s death so we need to speak up. Perhaps we are looking at it a different way: rather than speaking up to confront the wicked or the sinner, what we are called to do is confront the situation. We speak up to the wicked or the sinner because we care, because we love the wicked or the sinner.

But what if they will not listen when we speak to them? Jesus gives us a practical solution: speak one on one, and if that does not work, “take one or two others along with you” (Matthew 18: 15). If that does not work, tell the church, and if that does not work then treat them “as you would a Gentile or tax collector” (Matthew 18: 17).

We might interpret treating a Gentile or tax collector as treating them like dirt. Many in the culture of Jesus’ time would have treated these people this way. If we look to Jesus’ example, he did not. Jesus treated Gentiles and tax collectors with love, respect and dignity as he ate and socialized with them. And it is usually when he spent time with them that there was a change of heart.

For example, when Jesus spent time at Zacchaeus’s house, Zacchaeus said “Behold, half of my possessions, Lord, I shall give to the poor, and if I have exhorted anything from anyone, I shall repay it four times over” (Luke 19:8).

For it is when we treat the wicked and sinners with love, dignity, respect and Christ’s light that we make darkness, wickedness, and sinners uncomfortable and it fights but flees away. Hearts get changed and we win over.

To view the full scripture reading, click here.

 

Fr. Matt Keller, C.PP.S., is the pastor of St. John the Baptist Church in Glandorf, Ohio.