Tag: Fatima

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Sermon: Proper 14 RCL C – “O My Jesus…”

A father reports that he used to have trouble getting his son to clean his room. The father would insist that he, “Do it now,” and the son would always agree to do so, but then he wouldn’t follow through—at least not right away. After high school, the son joined the Marine Corps. When he came home for leave after basic training, his father asked him what he had learned.

“Dad,” he said, “I learned what ‘now’ means.”

For me, when it comes to cleaning house, “Now” generally means the day or a few hours before I expect company; otherwise, there’s a good chance that there will be dirty dishes in the sink, dirty socks on the floor, a pile of clean laundry waiting to be folded on the dining room table, and if the cat got sick on my desk, it would be in better shape than it is now. I guess I agree with Phyllis Diller and Erma Bombeck when it comes to housework. Phyllis says, “Housework won’t kill you, but then again, why take the chance?” And Erma writes, “My theory on housework is, if the item doesn’t multiply, smell, catch fire, or block the refrigerator door, let it be. No one else cares. Why should you?” 

I’m guessing they weren’t real keen on the word “Now” when it comes to housework, either. 

The Bureau of Labor Statistics reports that, on average, we spend 2.01 hours per day on household chores, and yes, women spend more time than men—1.67 hours for men and 2.34 for women. (Source) Clearly, they’ve never been to my house. I eventually get everything nice and clean, but it doesn’t last. Give it a few days, and the dishes will start to stack up again, and the dirty socks will be on the floor. Before you know it, the whole place needs a solid napalm strike to clear it all up.

In our Gospel reading, Jesus talks about the servants in a house who remain awake and alert, and the owner of the house who guards against the thief. The servants fulfill their duties for the Master—taking care of his needs and property—and the owner protects against the thief who wishes to break in and steal. In both cases, we understand that the home Jesus is speaking about is our soul—the dwelling place for the Holy Spirit of God. As God’s children, we are to take care of our souls, keeping them pure and free of sin, and we need to guard them so that the devil cannot come in and destroy them. But for me, sometimes the inside of my soul looks a bit like my house—a little messy.

On July 13, 1917, Our Lady of Fatima appeared for the third time to the three children—Lucia dos Santos, Jacinta Marto, and Francisco Marto. During the visitation, she gave them a brief but terrifying vision of hell. Lucia wrote, “She opened Her hands once more, as She had done in the two previous months. The rays of light seemed to penetrate the earth, and we saw as it were a sea of fire. Plunged in this fire were demons and souls in human form.” She then goes on to describe what they saw.

It was so terrifying, she later wrote, “How can we ever be grateful enough to our kind Heavenly Mother, who had already prepared us by promising, in the first Apparition, to take us to Heaven. Otherwise, I think we would have died of fear and terror.” 

During this same visitation, the Virgin Mary gave the children a prayer that we now know as the Fatima Prayer or O My Jesus. 

“O my Jesus, forgive us our sins, save us from the fires of hell; lead all souls to heaven, especially those most in need of thy mercy.”

Mary asked that the children share with the world her desire for this prayer to be said at the end of each decade of the Rosary. It is also prayed just before starting the first decade—the Our Father and the first ten Hail Marys. 

When I pray my Rosary, it is during those opening prayers that I begin—or at least try—to gain some sort of focus, and on one particular day, it was the same. I recited the Creed, prayed the Our Father, the first three Hail Marys, and the Gloria Patri, and then began the Fatima Prayer, “O my Jesus…” I stopped. The next word, “forgive,” simply would not come out. I tried again. “O my Jesus…” I couldn’t go any further. Why?

There was a story circulating when I was in seminary. It told of a young man who had a vision of himself entering a room. Inside the room were all these small files—row after row of them. The drawers seemed to be large enough to hold a piece of paper no bigger than a note card. As he got closer, he saw that each of the file drawers had labels. These included such things as “Books I Have Read” and “Television Programs I Have Watched.” There were others—“Lies I Have Told” and “Comfort I Have Given.” There was one that read “Things Done in Anger” and one right next to it, “Things I Have Said in Anger.”

He pulled that one out just to see what was inside, and to his horror, he found that written on each card was something he had said in anger. Then he realized he was standing in the record room of his life. Every single event, from the very best to the most sinful, had been recorded and filed. 

As he examined more of the file drawer labels, he became absolutely convinced that no one—not anyone!—should be allowed to see what was written here. But, of course, there was One who would see, and that One, Jesus, was suddenly present, standing before the man. 

Without a word spoken, and instinctively, Jesus went to the drawer that held the cards depicting the most horrible of sins, pulled it out, and began to read each card. The man was horrified and heartbroken. He collapsed in shame, but as he watched, he witnessed the most remarkable thing: on each of the cards, Jesus wrote His Name, covering the sin. 

There I was, trying to pray my Rosary, “O my Jesus…,” but unable to ask for forgiveness. Why? Well, it’s a bit like my house. When my house gets messy, it’s nothing new. It’s always the same mess. Dirty dishes, dirty socks, a messy desk, etc. My soul ends up the same way. When Jesus has to come in and go through the files of my life, it’s not like He pulls out a card and says, “Wow, didn’t see that coming,” or “Hey, that’s original.” No. It’s the same thing each and every time. Entire file drawers dedicated to my life with the same thing written time and time again, and Jesus signing over it again and again… O my Jesus. I found myself—not out of disobedience, but out of shame and frustration—simply unwilling to ask Him once more to forgive me for the same damn thing I asked Him to forgive me for the day or week before. O my Jesus.

I could imagine Him standing there, pen in hand, poised and ready to sign, and there I was… O my Jesus.

In our Gospel reading, Jesus said, “Be dressed for action and have your lamps lit; be like those who are waiting for their master to return from the wedding banquet, so that they may open the door for him as soon as he comes and knocks.” Yet, I’m sitting there in the middle of a very dirty house, knowing I must do something but unable to act.

Joshua said, “Choose you this day whom you will serve.”

Quoting what the Lord said to the Prophet Isaiah, Paul wrote, “In a favorable time I listened to you, and in a day of salvation I have helped you.” Then Paul added, “Behold, now is the favorable time; behold, now is the day of salvation.” (2 Corinthians 6:2)

“Son, what did the Marines teach you?” 

“Dad, I learned what ‘now’ means.”

And I prayed, “O my Jesus, forgive us our sins, save us from the fires of hell; lead all souls to heaven, especially those most in need of thy mercy.”

I’ll share something you might find hard to accept, but it’s true: no matter how much effort you put in, your soul will get dirty. You can’t keep it clean; once it becomes dirty, you won’t be able to clean it with your own strength and power. So, when the Master comes back—when Jesus returns—He will walk into the house of your soul and He will see the mess. Your only recourse is to say to Him today—right now—“O my Jesus, forgive.” And John tells us, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:9) If we confess our sins, Jesus will sign His name on the card and cover our sins.

The Psalmist writes, “For you, O Lord, are good and forgiving, abounding in steadfast love to all who call upon you.” Jesus stands ready to forgive all those who call on Him. Whatever reasons or excuses you may have—pride, shame, ignorance, stubbornness, or anything else—set it aside and humbly come before your God and King.

Let us pray… would you repeat after me: O my Jesus, forgive us our sins, save us from the fires of hell; lead all souls to heaven, especially those most in need of thy mercy. Amen.

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Sermon: Easter Sunday 2024

Doc Pierre decided that he wanted to get into the ranching business, so he went out and purchased himself a bunch of cows and put them out on the pasture. He also knew he would need a bull, so he called up one of his hands, Ol’ Boudreaux, and gave him the plan. 

“Boudreaux,” he says, “I’m going out to find the bull. Once I’ve purchased one, you hook the trailer to that pick ‘em up truck of yours and come fetch it.”

“How will I know?” Bou asks.

Doc Pierre says, “I’ll send a telegram,” and it was all set.

Doc Pierre goes out searching for the bull with $5,000 in his pocket. He finds one for exactly $5,000. Hoping to lower the price, he asks the rancher if that is the best offer. “Well, I suppose I could let it go for $4,999.” Doc Pierre thinks it’s a good deal and takes him up on it. Then, he heads to Western Union to send the telegram to Boudreaux, but it is there that he learns it’ll cost him $1 per word, and all he’s got left is a $1. He thinks on it a moment, then writes out a one-word message to Boudreaux.

The telegraph operator looks at it questioningly, then back up to Doc Pierre. Doc Pierre nods in understanding and explains, “Boudreaux don’t read so good, so he’ll have to sound it out first. He’ll get the message.” The telegraph operator said OK and sent the one-word telegram: “Comfortable.”

About an hour later, Boudreaux showed up with the pick ‘em up truck and trailer.

Doc Pierre sent, “Comfortable,” and Boudreaux had to sound it out, “Come.. for… da… bull.”

Have you heard of response latency? It is defined as “The interval of time elapsing between a stimulus and a response.” (Source) You may not have heard of it, but you may have just experienced it. I told you what I hoped was a good joke, and hopefully, you laughed! However, there was a short period of time between the punch line and you getting the joke and laughing. The time between is the response latency. It is the time when you have all the necessary information, but not quite yet understanding. It is the time leading up to a moment of clarity or an “Aha!” moment or epiphany. Response latency.

Our Gospel reading this morning tells us that Mary Magdalene went to the tomb of Jesus, found the stone rolled away, and ran back and told Peter and John. Hearing this, the two disciples take off. John outruns Peter and arrives first. John stands just outside the tomb, but Peter—never really one for restraint—goes barging in. After gaining his courage, John follows. There, they discover the linen shroud that had covered Jesus’ body and the veil that had been over his face, but the body of Jesus is not there. 

The image on the front of your bulletin depicts the scene. The painting St. John and St. Peter at Christ’s Tomb (c.1640) is by the Italian artist Giovanni Francesco Romanelli. Peter, on the left, is pointing at the shroud and seems to be staring off, trying to understand, but for John,  the response latency is ending. The pieces are falling into place. It is like he is holding up his hands to tell Peter to be quiet so that he can think. The reading tells us that the disciple whom Jesus loved, John, “saw and believed.” Romanelli captured that moment.

The reading then tells us that the two returned home, but Mary, who must have followed behind the footrace, remained. She leaned into the tomb and saw and spoke to the angels, then turning, she saw the gardener, not knowing it was Jesus. 

Now, this is an interpretation on my part, but the gardener was there all along, watching. Maybe he was out of sight, or maybe, in all the excitement and rushing about, all three saw him but more or less dismissed him. Either way, I believe the gardener, Jesus, was there watching this entire scene unfold. And I believe Jesus anxiously anticipated the end of John’s response latency when all the pieces came together. When they did, Jesus smiled and said to Himself, “That’s my boy.” Working behind John’s understanding is God’s grace.

St. John later tells us, “We love because he first loved us” (1 John 4:19), and St. Paul tells us, “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God” (Ephesians 2:8). Believing in Jesus is a grace—a gift from God. Jesus anxiously anticipated all the pieces falling together for John to believe, but the reason this could happen for John was because God first loved John—God’s grace was given to John so that he might believe.

Today, we are the ones standing in the tomb. We are the ones seeing the shroud and other linen. Like John, we have all the teachings of the Prophets and all the words and deeds of Jesus at our disposal. In addition, we have the teachings of the Apostles, the Saints, and the Church. We have all the information. Question: have they fallen into place for you, or are you still in that time of response latency? If yes, if they’ve fallen into place, then have a passion for souls and pray that others may receive the light of the Gospel. If not, then pray for God’s grace, so that He might give you understanding.

“Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark,” and before Mary Magdalene arrived at the tomb, Jesus rose from the dead—He is “the firstborn from the dead.” (Colossians 1:18) He did this out of His great love for us and accomplished it so that you and I might also be given eternal life with Him. 

This is your first day of the week. The empty tomb is before you. Pray that all the pieces, all the information falls into place and that God’s grace pours out upon you that you might believe and live.

In 1917, the Virgin Mary appeared six times to three young children near Fatima, Portugal. On the second appearance, she gave them a prayer that she asked to be added to the end of each decade of the Rosary. Whether you pray the Rosary or not, it is a prayer worth learning. It is known as the Fatima Prayer.

Let us pray: “Oh, my Jesus, forgive us our sins. Save us from the fires of Hell and lead all souls to Heaven, especially those in most need of Thy mercy. Amen.”

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Travel: Portugal (Day Eight)

Today was tour day, and it was a grand time

I walked about fifteen minutes to the Barrio Alto Hotel where I met my guide and travel companions. There were eight of us in all—myself, an Armenian couple now living in Las Angeles, a Chinese couple now living in Michigan, and a family of three from Buenos Aries, Brazil (the history of Portugal and Brazil is closely knit together.)

From there, we drove north (our driver averaged 95 mph in the Mercedes van) to Fatima (about an hour). Along the way, the guide explained to us (first in English, then in Portuguese) the significance of the site, the apparitions, the three shepherd children, and all. It is fascinating to hear, even if you are familiar with the story.

When going to Fatima, it is not about the buildings. It is about the location and the events that occurred there. The buildings came much later. The first picture below shows the actual location of the apparitions and the original place of worship that the Virgin Mary asked to be built. The second, the church, was built later as the site grew in importance and more pilgrims arrived. There is now a third church, which is more like an auditorium, that will hold 8,000. I was glad that the Pilgrim’s Mass was held in the first church.

The Vatican has not yet revealed all the messages that were given but have officially declared the apparitions to be valid; this is primarily due to the fifth apparition: the Virgin Mary asked that six individuals be brought on that day so that they could be healed. When the day arrived, there were at least 40,000 in attendance and 500 to 1,000 were healed and… all reported that the sun danced in the sky. I encourage you to read more about this miraculous event.

From Fatima, we travelled to Batalha (means battle) the site of a great battle and the location of the Monastery of Saint Mary of the Victory. Construction began in 1386 in thanksgiving for the victory at the battle of Aljubarrota between the Spanish and the Portuguese (these people still don’t like one another, and our guide tells us that anyone who says differently is lying.) There are some fantastic circumstances regarding the battle, but in the end, 6,000 Portuguese defeated 36,000 Spanish in about forty-five minutes. I would probably have built a church myself. At the far right side of the church you see columns that appear to be incomplete… they are. After 129 years of construction, the government said, “Enough,” and put the resources elsewhere.

A note on paying your artist: the one who crafted the horse and rider (general who led the battle) was never paid properly, so the artist made a few “mistakes” in creating the horse. 1) both left feet of the horse are off the ground. Guess what happens when both the left/right feet of a horse are off the ground. 2) It is a male horse that has three of what it should only have two and none of what it should have one. I’ll let you sort that all out.

Moving indoors…

It is as though they were attempting to enclose heaven itself in such a dramatic space. The acoustics are incredible as the sound bounces off the ceiling (106 feet) and around the columns.

Other images…

On each stone, you will see certain marks. These are the marks of the stonecutter. No mark = no pay. When a stone has two marks, it means that it was cut by an apprentice under the tutelage of a master.

I shared lunch with this delightful Armenian couple who insisted on paying for mine. I protested, but he gave me a look that informed me I would not “win” the argument, so I said, “Thank you.”

Nazaré was next. It is known for its waves and the last three world records surfing have been attained here. Most tourists come for the huge waves, but as our guide explained, it is only about five days out of the year that the massive ones (120+ feet) come in. It was still spectacular.

If you think that the name, Nazaré, sounds remarkably close to Nazareth (my Armenian friend pointed this out), then you would be correct. A wonderful legend. You can find it here.

And then we were off to Óbidos (I’ll never get the hang of the language, but it doesn’t sound like it reads.) It is a well preserved example of early life in the region and is surrounded by the castle walls. It became a part of the queen’s dowry, so she would dictate the color that all the houses must be painted, which was white, but the owners had the option of color for “framing” the house.

You are allowed to walk along the top of the wall and you do so at your own risk (definitely not OSHA approved!) By this time of the day, I was pooped out, so I did not take my chances in going all the way around, but the view…

The van was quiet for the ride home. All of us, including our guide, had a very full day. When I returned to the apartment, I had a couple of boiled eggs and a piece of bread, then put my feet up.

Two more days remaining = two more adventures.

I’m off!

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