Destiny

This past holiday weekend, Spike TV, as it often does on big holiday weekends, ran a Star Wars marathon with all the films, back to back, in order - Episode I - VI. Star Wars nerds like myself love stuff like this - even though I own all the movies on DVD and, of course, know the difference between a gungan and a nerf-herder. These movies are part of our culture, and they are a big part of my life, my childhood, and even the way I look at the world I live in.

The films play heavy on a few themes, but the one that interests me at this point is that of "destiny." Obi-Wan tells Luke in their parting on the Death Star that his "destiny lies along a different path" than his own; Vader tells Luke that joining him on the Dark Side is his "destiny"; and he even accepts Luke's assertion that he will die rather than destroy his father with the answer, "...if that is your destiny." The entire saga speaks of forces beyond the simple choices of the characters which shape the lives of all those involved, as well as the lives of the entire galaxy.

Tied up with that theme of destiny, in my mind, is that of vocation - who are you called to be? This will have a profound effect on ones destiny, but it even precedes it. The idea of "from the womb I called you" rings very clear in the Star Wars saga, as we see that Anakin Skywalker's fate seemed destined as one "miraculously conceived" by the Force itself; or Luke and Leia's births as leading to the eventual redemption of Darth Vader. All of this has tones of vocation to it.

Each one of us has a destiny; and for us who claim Jesus Christ as our Lord that destiny is eternal life. Our vocations - who we are called to be - is intimately connected to this. How will I effect this eternal life in my life and the lives of those around me? This is a question that only God can fathom and only we can live.

The Jedi have a mystical, spiritual quality about them. They are aware of the deep movements of that Force that guides and binds all of creation. I have often felt the connection to these Knights in a call to priesthood, but it is not just limited to the sacrament of Holy Orders. Anyone with a deep affection for things holy and true can tap into that One Who gives life to us all. This means having an awareness of who one is - of what my vocation is - and how that vocation is connected to the destiny of all.

None of this is accidental. This is God's work. It is His call. It is ours to respond. It is ours to cooperate.

It is our destiny.

A Punk Turned Hero

I want to tell you about one of my heroes, since we’ve been talking about heroes this weekend. He was a thief – and not the cute, lovable “Aladdin”-type thief with a monkey pal, stealing apples and bread because he was hungry. This guy stole for the heck of it; he liked to create mayhem – a troublemaker – a punk.

As he grew up, he found more friends who were also punks, and they got into all sorts of trouble. They became more violent; they scared people. This guy wanted things the way he wanted them, and God help the people who didn’t give him what he wanted.

Eventually, he went from thief and troublemaker to murder (my hero!), and he was arrested, thrown in jail, tried, and condemned to death. Everyone said he deserved it, and he would be inclined to agree with them.

Hold on to that thought.

This weekend, we have shared stories of our Catholic heroes: saints, role models, parents, siblings, youth ministers and friends. These are not the usual heroes that we think of, like Superman or the Green Lantern. These are more “ordinary” people. In the First Reading today, the nation of Israel is recognizing their great hero, King David. They know him – he is not perfect. They have watched him grow into the great leader that he was, but he was still one of them – their “bone and their flesh.” He was not descended from heaven or from another planet. Rather, he was just as weak, just as dependent, just as human as they were.

But that’s what makes for a true hero, isn’t it? If we could not somehow identify with our heroes, what would the point of idolizing them be? This is why, when Jesus came, he did not come in power and fanfare, but in weakness and humility. He emptied himself and took on our humanity. Our God became just as human as each one of us in order to show us that the way of holiness is something that we can achieve, something we can imitate. Our hero is not so far beyond us that we cannot hope to follow where he leads. Rather, Jesus, too, is our “bone and flesh.”

A hero is someone we believe in and whom we want to imitate. We can see some of ourselves in them – the best part of ourselves, that part we want to release and let others see. The stories we have heard from our young people – of Kelly’s sister or Lawrence’s grandmother – remind us that these real heroes of ordinary life call us to be the best person we know we can be.

The trick is knowing where to look – to whom to look.

Remember that “punk” I talked about earlier? We have heard about many saints these couple of days: St. Ignatius, St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, St. Gemma. I have another one for you: St. Dismas. Do you know who he is? We commonly know him as “the Good Thief” who died on a cross next to Jesus. We hear from him in the gospel today. St. Dismas is one of my heroes – not because he was a punk, but because in his weakness, in his absolute helplessness, nailed to a cross, fastened up there so that there was no movement and no hope of escape, and eventually he would suffocate after a long and agonizing ordeal – even there – even with all his past crimes weighing on him, even after all the things that people had told him about himself – about how bad he was – he knew where to turn. He know where to turn to find a hero.

In his position on that cross, next to Jesus Christ, true God and true man, his own flesh and bone, he knew to turn to Jesus. And because of that humanity, Jesus, who suffered just as much as Dismas, was about to give the greatest gift anyone could ever give: salvation. “Today, you will be with me in paradise.” Dismas turned to Jesus and did not see a weak, suffering failure, like everyone else did. He saw his new hero.

It took the last moments of his life to realize that, but that was all it took.
My friends, we have seen Jesus displayed before us in the Eucharist on this altar in Adoration; we have heard him in the witness of our friends here this weekend; we have felt him in the spirit and the power that we have all shared in the energy of this room; and we will soon encounter him in the Bread and Wine as we receive his Body and Blood in the Eucharist now.

Jesus is our hero. But he is not a hero because he is so far away. He is not a hero because he can’t be imitated. He is our bone and our flesh. So that where he goes, we go; and what he does, we do; and when he calls, we can follow. Because he is not calling us back to some other planet. He is calling us to leave this place with the energy and the spirit and the joy that we have at being here this weekend, and to go home and to remind people that Jesus is real, that Jesus us ours, that Jesus makes a difference in the world, and that he can make a difference with all of your friends as well.

Don’t let this just be a “neat” weekend. We will never look at heroes in the same way again. May you all be the hero that someone needs you to be. They are waiting for you; they are looking to you; they want you to be that hero. Where do we turn for the strength to do such things? We do what Dismas did – we look to Jesus, the crucified and risen one, who is present with us now and always. His voice is the one we hear, saying, “Today, you will be with me.”

He Returns

Driving in to work this morning, I saw two billboards advertising the newest installment in the Narnia films (which comes out in December). Both billboards were the same image, with simply the words "He returns."

As a Christian, I cannot help but see in that simple advertisement a reminder of the true "Lion of Judah," Jesus. As we approach the end of the liturgical year and the beginning of Advent, those words, "He returns," have special significance and real weight. Much has been made of C.S. Lewis' obvious Christian imagery in his "children's" books, and I have to agree - he knew what his imagery meant, and the choices were deliberate.

He does, indeed, return. Not Aslan - although many will turn out to see that - but rather the True Lion - the Eternal Lamb - whose sacrifice and power free us from sin and open heaven to us all. In the middle of St. Peter's Square in the Vatican there stands an obelisk that was brought there in the 16th century. At the base of the monolith, there are these words inscribed:

ECCE CRUX DOMINI

FUGITE PARTES ADVERSAE

VINCIT LEO DE TRIBU IUDA

Which means:

Behold the Cross of the Lord!

Flee, you parties of the Adversary;

The Lion of the Tribe of Judah has conquered!

He returns.

Vatican Speaks: Homer is Catholic

Well, I am not sure I believe this, but I am happy to see the discussion going. The Catholic News Service gives us this article about America's First Family of Animation and the faith that they exhibit.

It’s not every day that the Vatican newspaper declares that a fictional character from the world of television is a Catholic - and a cartoon character at that.

But that’s precisely what L’Osservatore Romano did in early October when it asserted that Homer Simpson, the patriarch of the 21-season Fox sitcom “The Simpsons,” is a Catholic. Oh, and bratty son Bart, too.

The Vatican’s fascination with “The Simpsons” began last December, when L’Osservatore Romano said that “the relationship between man and God” is one of its most important themes and that it often mirrored the “religious and spiritual confusion of our times.”

On Oct. 16, La Civilta Catolica, a Jesuit weekly, published an article titled “‘The Simpsons’ and Religion,” which said the series “is one of the few television shows for kids in which the Christian faith, religion and questions about God are recurring themes.”

The Simpsons “say grace before meals, and in their way, believe in heaven,” said the essay’s author, Jesuit Father Francesco Occhetta.

Then came the L’Osservatore Romano opinion piece the next day. “Few people know it, and he does everything he can to hide it, but it is true: Homer J. Simpson is a Catholic,” the Vatican newspaper said in the article, headlined “Homer and Bart are Catholic.” Father Occhetta later told Catholic News Service in Rome he thought the Vatican newspaper had exaggerated his point but added that the sitcom shows Homer “is open to the question of faith and God."

See the link for the whole article.