My life is one of far greater riches than the rich man in today’s parable. Space-age wool, cotton, and polyester blends compose the clothes that I throw on every morning and the food I eat throughout the day is more abundant, nourishing, fresh, and appetizing than even the most sumptuous of meals that the un-identified “Dives” [“rich-man”] would have enjoyed. So how do I avoid his fate? A few take-aways immediately strike the attentive reader.

For one, the obvious connotation: Dives now finds himself in anguish because he ignored the impoverished and ill Lazarus who lived literally under his very gate, and yet received neither attention, food, nor even the smallest gesture of love from him. Christ’s words in the prior chapter of Luke that we heard last weekend should resonate again in our hearts: “you cannot serve God and mammon”. “Son”, Abraham speaks to all of us, “remember that you in your lifetime received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner evil things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in anguish.” Is my “lifetime”, a word that not only speaks of physical length of days, but of the fullness of our lives, including and extending into eternity, comprised merely of the “good things” of this world? How often is my mood, disposition, and happiness dependent on merely earthly possessions and pleasures?

A couple weeks ago I bought one of those electrolyte-additive mixes that you drink after a hard workout, choosing “orange” because I thought it would be the best flavor. Well, it’s terrible, and every time I try to drink the stuff, I think I should just toss it and try “cherry pomegranate” or “lemon” instead… Not after this Gospel! Lazarus did not have food at all. He did not even get the scraps and refuse that our rich man threw out, much less food that was palatable or nutritious. In eternity, am I going to be still be looking for a quick drink for myself (as long as it’s not orange-flavored) or will my mind and heart be set on more important things? I make that decision now in the simple choice to not complain when my preference is not given to me, as well as in those greater acts of charity when I offer kindness, concern, and dignity to someone in need of it who crosses my path.

A second call resonates beyond this first one though, and it comes at the end of our Gospel today.

And he said, ‘Then I beg you, father, to send him to my father’s house, for I have five brothers, so that he may warn them, lest they also come into this place of torment. But Abraham said, ‘They have Moses and the prophets; let them hear them.’ And he said, ‘No, father Abraham; but if some one goes to them from the dead, they will repent.’ He said to him, ‘If they do not hear Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced if some one should rise from the dead.’ ”

Our rich man shows concern for his brothers; he is not just a cold-hearted, wealthy, tyrant or something. What does this mean for us?: Kindness is not enough. Love of neighbor is not the extent of Christ’s call, but only when it flows from, and is linked with Love of God! Our life must not merely be not serving mammon, but a conscious and constant choice to serve God! How might we do this? I think our Gospel today offers us a simple way: fill our minds and hearts with God’s Word. Abraham’s final message to our rich-man is that he (and his brothers) did not hear Moses and the Prophets, and so, they would also be ambivalent towards even the astonishing revelation in Christ’s resurrection. Is my mind filled by the entertainment, distractions, and noise of our world? What happens when my phone dies or an ad rudely interrupts my YouTube watching? What is the first thing I read in the morning, or the last thing I hear or see before I fall asleep?

While running this past week, the Bluetooth earbuds I was listening to an audiobook with ran out of power. I had a couple miles to go on a long run, and it was annoying to not have the distraction of constant sound pumped into my head, but I was forced to go without them and ended up praying two decades of the rosary and greeting a couple people with a smile and wave as I trotted the last bit back to the rectory. It was a moment of insight: are the words that fill my mind and heart those of God, or a barrage of distraction that keep me far from appreciating His gifts and presence? Not only must we set aside time for silence in order to even notice God’s work in our lives, but we also have to spend time to meditate on His Word – Moses, the Prophets, the Gospels – and let them percolate in our hearts, penetrate our minds, and polish the lenses through which we see our world.

Father Dominic Rankin is a Parochial Vicar for the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception.

Various polls in recent years have indicated the rise of “nones”, those declaring no religious affiliation whatsoever. This is particularly conspicuous among young people. It has been noted that these “nones” are often of two types:

1. Those who show an outright hostility to all things religious, including merely believing in God;
2. Those who are interested in spiritual and religious matters, but are disenchanted with any kind of institutional or organized religion.

It’s from this latter group that one often hears, “I’m spiritual, not religious.” Typically, underlying this view is a sentiment which insists that religion is man-made.

The prevalence of this view dovetails with sociologist Christian Smith’s work. He describes the American religious landscape as one of moralistic therapeutic deism. The first (moralism) is the view that the essence of religion is about making people good, which is often equated with being nice. The second component (therapeutic) refers to the commonplace view that religion serves the purpose of providing comfort—it should make us feel better. And finally, deism is the view that acknowledges God’s existence, but denies that God is involved in our lives in any serious way: i.e., he doesn’t hear our prayers (and so no real relationship is possible), nor does he make any real demands over our lives.

The Difference the Eucharist Makes
I have incredible respect for our Protestant brothers and sisters. In fact, I studied biblical languages and archaeology in a Protestant graduate program. However, I can understand the attraction to “I’m spiritual, but not religious” from a Protestant perspective. In Protestantism, what is the reason for attending Sunday worship—beyond merely the command to observe the Sabbath? Further, are there other ways of attaining the goods sought by physically going to church (e.g., sermons, music, fellowship)?

Indeed, in a Protestant framework, the answer would seem to be yes. After all, one can hear terrific talks, sermons, and praise and worship music on the internet. And one can certainly feel like they’re part of a community in many ways, even online.

When all is said and done, organized Protestant worship and ecclesial structure is largely man-made. For this reason, one can see the rise of “I’m spiritual, not religious” as a secularized form of Protestantism. (See Brad Gregory’s Unintended Reformation for more on the historical connection between the Protestant Reformation and the rise of secularization.)

Christ in Full Glory
But the case is different for Catholics. We don’t go to Mass because of the homily (though, we certainly appreciate it when it’s well done). Nor do we go to Mass for the music (though we love it when it’s done beautifully and with devotion). We don’t even go to Mass primarily for the community (though that’s the natural side effect of people gathering together in pursuit of a transcendent good).

We go to Mass in order to receive the Risen Body of Jesus Christ, and thereby have hope in our own resurrection. As St. Ignatius of Antioch put it in A.D. 107, the Eucharist is the “medicine of immortality, antidote against death” (Letter to Ephesians, chapter 20). Ignatius gets this teaching directly from Jesus:

“He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day” (John 6:54).

Everything about the Catholic Faith can be tied to the Eucharist as the Sacrament of Sacraments. Christ acts in all the sacraments by his power; but in the Eucharist, we have Christ Himself. In truth, at the end of time when Christ comes again, he won’t have an ounce more glory than he does right now in the Eucharist. The only difference will be in our ability to see.

What Is the Church?
All of the sacraments either prepare us to receive the Eucharist (baptism, confession); make the Eucharist possible (ordination); manifest the nuptial love of God to the world—which is manifest in the Eucharist (matrimony); or configure us to the Paschal Mystery more fully, which the Eucharist makes present (confirmation, anointing of the sick). All of the sacraments are either ordered to the Eucharist or flow from it. That is why the Eucharist is the “source and summit” of the Christian faith (Lumen Gentium, 11).

When we ask “What is the Church?” or “What makes the Church?” the answer is not buildings or architecture (though we have a wonderful and beautiful architectural tradition); nor is it simply hierarchy and bureaucratic structure (though hierarchy and authority play an important role in Catholic life and teaching).

The answer is the Eucharist— for the Eucharist makes the Church. In and through the Eucharist, we become the Body of Christ. The Eucharist is the nuptial union between the Church and her divine bridegroom; and it is through this one-flesh union that the Church becomes the Body of Christ.

All of the hierarchy really flows from this precious gift of the Most Holy Eucharist; for it is necessary to bring the Eucharist about. The Eucharist implies an ordained priesthood through which Christ continues his priesthood, as well as bishops who ordain these priests through the laying on of hands. The Church’s moral teaching takes on its fullest dimension in light of this nuptial relationship we’ve been invited to with our Lord, a nuptial union which finds its consummation in the Eucharist.

Much of Catholic practice, devotion, and teaching stem from preserving the divine dignity of the Holy Eucharist or distilling this wondrous treasure for the faithful. The Eucharist is truly the “source and summit” of Christian life—the very fulcrum around which our faith turns and the centrifugal source of the outpouring of divine life.

Is Moralistic Therapeutic Deism Really Satisfying?
In my youth, I didn’t care much for my Catholic faith. Looking back, there are likely a host of reasons for this, some of which surely stem directly from me. Still, the Catholic Faith as presented to me in grade school and high school quite simply had no teeth—it made no real demands beyond “be nice.” I realized early on that I could get the gospel of “be nice” from lots of places—Confucius, Plato, or Buddha all could have taught me that. If that’s what this religion thing was about, why bother with Jesus? After all, what difference did Jesus make? For the truth is religion that demands nothing means nothing.

Jesus went to his death (as did the early Christian martyrs) not for asking people to “be nice.” In John the Baptist, Jesus, and the early Christians, we see the vigorous and even dangerous adventure of taking Christianity seriously.

Therapeutic Religion
Which brings us to the next component of our current religious predicament: therapeutic. Does religion exist merely to comfort us and make us feel better? Once again, this good can be gotten in lots of ways—not least from a local therapist. Here, we see the American consumer mentality stepping in: religion is not about God, but about me and how it makes me feel.

Further, a distinctively modern penchant is to view the question of truth as irrelevant to religion. That is, religion exists to make us good and to comfort us. But its truth claims are really irrelevant (hence, the modern aversion to questions of heresy or falsity with regard to religion). In fact, modernity tends to operate on the assumption that religious truth is simply unknowable.

Keeping Religion Objective
In the modern context, the whole notion of being “spiritual, but not religious” is an attempt to reclaim some of the goods of religion (a sense for the transcendent, a deeper purpose in life), without any of the demands of a religion rooted in truth (e.g., objective moral demands that don’t always match our immediate preferences). Being spiritual and not religious is a recipe for a self-designer religion. Given how easily our passions and desires can cloud our reason, this approach is bound to have us customizing our own spirituality in a manner that does not challenge us at all—an approach which is designed never to make us feel uncomfortable and confirm us exactly where we are.

In other words: being spiritual and not religious is precisely the man-made religion we would expect fallen creatures like ourselves to create.

But as we noted, without the Eucharist, this would seem to be a perennial temptation. The Eucharist keeps religion objective; and the features of religion which those outside the fold generally find most irksome (e.g., moral teaching, hierarchy) make sense precisely in light of the Eucharist. If the Eucharist is the Risen Jesus among us, we would expect rigorous moral teaching and a sacred hierarchy charged with caring for and presenting before the faithful this most august treasure—as well as an insistence on the importance of the sacrament of confession after committing grave (mortal) sins before receiving Christ’s precious Body and Blood.

But Can’t I Just Serve the Poor?
It’s common to hear someone eschew prayer in favor of acts of service—often seeing the latter as the heart of the gospel and prayer as something extra. While service is certainly an essential part of the gospel, it is not the whole.

Consider the analogy of marriage: it would be a strange marriage if I spent all my days serving my wife—doing yard work, painting, cleaning—and quite literally never talked to her for months or even years on end. Serving my wife, as well as serving those she loves (our children), is an important part of showing my love for her. But these acts of service make sense only in light of the prior relationship I have with her.

God has invited us into a personal and even nuptial relationship with him. For this reason, in the analogy, serving my wife is like acts of service which show love for my neighbor; spending time talking with my wife (about the mundane and the depths of our hearts) is analogous to prayer; and renewing our covenant bond in the marital act is a foreshadowing of the Eucharist—where we become one flesh with our Lord.

Religion as Adventure
Serving others is essential; but it does not replace or substitute for a living personal and nuptial relationship with God. In fact, the former flows out of the vitality of the latter.

It’s not surprising that people find half-baked religion uninspiring —that’s exactly what I came to growing up. But the real thing—in all its glory and grandeur—is the most riveting and exhilarating adventure we could ever go on. How can we reclaim our sense of purpose and God-given mission in light of what Jesus has done for us—in the Cross and in the Holy Eucharist?

Dr. Andrew Swafford is an associate professor of theology at Benedictine College. He is a general editor and contributor to The Great Adventure Catholic Bible, published by Ascension. He holds a doctorate in Sacred Theology from the University of St. Mary of the Lake and a master’s degree in Old Testament & Semitic Languages from Trinity Evangelical Divinity School. He lives with his wife Sarah and their four children in Atchison,

To say that the devil had been playing around with the REBOOT event would be an understatement. From computers and printers not working, to the Atrium projector suddenly breaking, and to mic-issues which seemed just fine during sound-check… yes, you could say there were some challenges. But, were those challenges enough to stop conversion? Were those challenges enough to stop the smiles, positive body language, or laughter coming from the pews? Nope!

What we had been hoping for during the planning process for REBOOT was “back-pew hospitality.” Unfortunately, we knew not everyone would be sitting in a “prime spot” and that some of our paying guests would end up in the back. However, thanks to the many amazing volunteers, we pulled it off! Volunteer instruction the night-of was pretty simple: Be Kind.

Why? Because that is what Jesus would do. In fact, anytime we talk about service or hospitality in a churchsetting it should always involve a commitment to kindness. Are we really being ministers and servers, if we are not being kind? It is surely hard to be a reflection of Jesus’ hands in feet in the world without being kind.

The kind people I know have an understanding and appreciate for the gift of life. Stewardship is ultimately an act of gratitude, a sharing of all the good things God has placed in one’s life and gifting it back to God’s people. A gracious heart is a characteristic naturally of a kind person. When you live a life that is full of wants, desires, and foolish materialism, you will get sucked into sadness, not kindness. Ultimately, I can’t really imagine a truly kind person who is not also self-sacrificing, generous, and a good steward, can you?

When asked by the New York Times what Saint Teresa of Calcutta would say in her Noble Peace Prize acceptance speech, she said, “I will say, ‘Love one another as God loves each one of you,’ Isn’t this simple? This is what we teach our young children! Why do we let our worldly desires get in the way? Temptation, revenge, resentment, all of these feelings are distractions from the hope and peace found in a stewards way of life.

In the pursuit of becoming a parish filled with disciples who intentionally choose to live stewardship as a way of liferooted in prayer, service, and giving- we must choose kindness. We must choose love. We must choose to think of others before ourselves. If we are kind in our ministries, if we are kind in our relationships with others, if we are kind with ourselves, we will find the love that Mother Teresa has now found. And, to that end, no matter what pew you end up in, you will know you are loved.

Katie Price is the Stewardship Coordinator for the Cathedral and the Director of Discipleship and Stewardship for the Diocese of Springfield in Illinois.

This past weekend I had dinner with one of my closest friends, meeting up with him at after a conference he was presenting at. It’s one of those friendships where we’ve seen each other at our best and our worst; one of those bonds where you can speak without words. I always had a second home with his family in Iowa. I stood up for him at his wedding, baptized two of his children, and I’m godfather to his middle son, Callum…you get the picture. In the course of dinner, sitting at a sidewalk table outside of the restaurant, there was a gentleman who appeared to be homeless as well as suffering from a form of mental illness. He was sitting down on the sidewalk about five or six feet from our table, talking to himself and smoking, but not causing any disturbance. My friend said we should move tables and I responded by asking him “what if that man is Jesus Christ?” My friend didn’t say anything to me but the look that he shot me clearly said “don’t try to play that card with me.” I smiled and laughed and we stayed at our table and the gentleman five or six feet from us moved on a few minutes later.

My reply to my friend was in not a judgement of him. Honestly, I said what I did for my own benefit as much as for his (if not to lovingly jab at him too). That man on the sidewalk was not someone to be avoided because he was as much a son of God as I am. That man, made in the image and likeness of God like all of us, has remained on my mind this week. When I got home to the Cathedral on Sunday evening I saw the front page of the State Journal Register. The front page contained a story concerning a billboard that was attempting to shame Helping Hands Shelter for their efforts to expand their services. Let me be clear, I am not shaming or judging those who are opposing Helping Hands’ effort to expand their services in their neighborhood even though it saddens me because I think that Helping Hands is doing the work of Christ that most no one else, including government, wants to do. I believe that many peoples’ opposition to be motivated by fears and concerns that are rampant in our society, fears and concerns that I would argue are false. The sad reality is that many people will say that homeless people are a problem rather than understanding that its homelessness, not homeless people, that is the problem.

As Christians, we need to be conscious of separating problems from persons, because people should never be seen as problems. Behaviors may be problematic, physical, mental, emotional conditions may be problematic, attitudes may be problematic, but a person and their existence is never problematic. This confusion can be found at the root of the evil of abortion, that too many times pregnancy is seen only as a condition or a problem or a situation, rather than a woman who is carrying an unborn child where one or both may be facing issues, challenges, or difficulties. Another example is the epidemic of violence in society with guns or otherwise. I firmly believe that we cannot legislate a fix to this problem because, as a society, we have become masters at looking at people and denying/not seeing their personhood, their innate human dignity and as long as we are able to do that then the violence in our communities will only get worse.

The personhood of those around us cannot be ignored. We must always strive to see it first and foremost. To achieve this we have to see Jesus Christ in those around us; if we see Christ in another, we will not lose sight of their humanity, even if they themselves aren’t doing much to put it on display. We see this necessity because of the condemnation that we hear in the Book of Amos in the first reading this weekend. The condemnation is given by the prophet to those who have chosen to ignore the humanity of their brothers and sisters for the sake of their own comfort and gain, and regarding this sin, the Word tells us that the Lord will not forget it (Amos 8: 4-7).

As disciples, we must work to make our ability to see Christ in others second nature to us. We must do this because we want to be among those in Matthew’s Gospel who say at the Last Judgment “Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?’ And the king will say to them in reply, ‘Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me (Mt 25: 38-40).” Those who are called the righteous by the Lord in this moment are those who saw in front of them a person with a problem, not the person as a problem. To borrow from Bishop Paprocki, may God give us this grace.

Father Christopher House is the Rector of the Cathedral and serves in various leadership roles within the diocesan curia, namely Chancellor and Vicar Judicial.

Does God want us to be happy?

We all know the answer is supposed to be yes, right?

Take Psalm 37:4 for example: “take delight in the LORD, and he will give you the desires of your heart.”

What are the desires of your heart? If you’re like me, there’s probably a long list. But they could all be boiled down to one word: Happiness.

So, yes. It would seem that God does want us to be happy. But does it always feel that way?

The Truth about Happiness

Let’s have some fun.

Write up a list of a few things that make you feel happy. I don’t mean some idealistic deep philosophical happy. Just write down experiences of happiness in the most literal sense. Here’s my list:

• Eating a big bowl of ice cream at night
• Binge watching a great show
• Staying up late
• Buying stuff (usually baseball equipment for my sons and I).

There’s my short list. It took me all of four seconds to think them up. I’m like the mouse in the experiment, pushing the lever and the cheese comes out. But there’s a problem. Here’s a list of four things that make me feel miserable:

• Feeling sick after eating a big bowl of ice cream at night
• Falling behind on my work or home responsibilities because I wasted time watching TV
• Being tired because I stayed up too late the night before
• Worrying because I blew the budget.

I’m the mouse who hit the lever and got the cheese, but it turned out the cheese is moldy!

Does God Want Us to Feel Happy

Why? Why does it have to be that way? Does God even want me to feel happy?

Guess what. The answer is no. God doesn’t want you to feel happy, either. God wants us to be happy, and there’s a big difference.

See, the world wants us to feel happy. Well, actually the world tells us we should want to feel happy. The problem is this superficial happiness now leaves us miserable later.

But God’s plan is much different. In fact, it’s flipped on its head.

God’s Plan for Happiness

God wants you to be happy now so you can feel happy later. Most of the stuff that will cause you to be happy will not make you feel happy in the moment.

This is a key realization for living the Christian life.

Rarely does working out and eating healthy make you feel happy in the moment.

Rarely does swallowing your pride and forgiving someone make you feel happy in the moment. Revenge and holding a grudge can feel so sweet. Prayer and spending time with God can feel like plain work.

Reading just doesn’t feel quite as good as vegging out on the couch.

But God’s path to true happiness isn’t found in a feeling. It’s found in being the person he created you to be.

And don’t let yourself be fooled. God absolutely made you for happiness. The universal desire for happiness is one of the most deeply seated parts of the human experience.

What Does Everyone Really Want?

Ask a young couple who just had their first kid what they want for their child. What’s their answer?

Happiness.

Ask an elderly couple whose kids are grown what they want for their children. What’s their answer?

Happiness.

I want to be happy. You want to be happy. We all want to be happy! That desire isn’t an accident. We’re designed that way. Why?

Because God is happy and any earnest and unyielding pursuit of happiness can only lead you to one end: him.

God’s plan for you is happiness. It’s pretty simple really. The problem is that simple doesn’t mean easy.

The Hard Part

I’m good at choosing the stuff that makes me feel happy now and makes me miserable later. Those choices come easy. The other stuff? The stuff that makes me be happy now so I can ultimately feel happy when I’m with God? That’s the stuff I struggle with. I can take some solace in the fact that I’m not alone. That’s not just true for me, but it’s true for you, your kids, parents, priest, neighbor, coworker, and friends too.

We’re all hitting the same levers, and we’re all getting moldy cheese.

• It’s time to make another list, a list of the things that cause me to be happy, even if they don’t make me feel happy in the moment:
• Reading a book
• Praying
• Reading my Bible
• Exercising
• Eating healthy
• Spending time in silence and solitude
• Calling my mom
• Saving money responsibly
• Giving of my time, talent, and treasure generously
• Working diligently.

That’s a much better list than my earlier one, but I can do even better because there are some things God has given me that cause me to be happy and feel happy at the same time.

• Going on a date with my wife
• Playing with my sons

The best part of God’s plan is you can usually find a few things he’s called you to do (vocation), that will cause you to be and feel happy at the same time.

 Your Plan for Happiness

So make yourself a new list. Shoot for ten things that will cause you to be happy now even if they won’t make you feel happy now. God’s ways are typically always better than yours or mine, so set about doing them.

Want some more inspiration for your ten things? Check out the ten things of Pope St. John XXIII. It’s called “The Daily Decalogue of Pope John XXIII”.

1) Only for today, I will seek to live the livelong day positively without wishing to solve the problems of my life all at once.

2) Only for today, I will take the greatest care of my appearance: I will dress modestly; I will not raise my voice; I will be courteous in my behavior; I will not criticize anyone; I will not claim to improve or to discipline anyone except myself.

3) Only for today, I will be happy in the certainty that I was created to be happy, not only in the other world but also in this one.

4) Only for today, I will adapt to circumstances, without requiring all circumstances to be adapted to my own wishes.

5) Only for today, I will devote ten minutes of my time to some good reading, remembering that just as food is necessary to the life of the body, so good reading is necessary to the life of the soul.

6) Only for today, I will do one good deed and not tell anyone about it.

7) Only for today, I will do at least one thing I do not like doing; and if my feelings are hurt, I will make sure that no one notices.

8) Only for today, I will make a plan for myself: I may not follow it to the letter, but I will make it. And I will be on guard against two evils: hastiness and indecision.

9) Only for today, I will firmly believe, despite appearances, that the good Providence of God cares for me as no one else who exists in this world.

10) Only for today, I will have no fears. In particular, I will not be afraid to enjoy what is beautiful and to believe in goodness. Indeed, for twelve hours I can certainly do what might cause me consternation were I to believe I had to do it all my life.

Ten things. A simple list. Simple doesn’t always mean easy, but that’s OK. Ten things that will make you be happy. Be happy now so you can ultimately feel happy with God.

Just like he always planned for you to be.

Dominick Albano is a nationally sought-after speaker, having spoken at countless men’s conferences, parish missions, and other parish events. His podcast, The Best Catholic Podcast, features interviews with some of the spiritual greats of our time. He lives in Northern Kentucky with his wife and their four sons. Learn more about him and his ministry at dominickalbano.com.

When I was in seminary, I had a professor of the New Testament who insisted that we should rename the “Parable of the Prodigal Son.” His claim—which isn’t wrong—was that the title we’ve given to this parable seems to imply that its focus is on the younger son, who prematurely requests his inheritance, spends it on a life of profligacy, and returns in repentance to the great joy of his father (and to the vexation of his older brother). But reading the parable, it’s clear that Luke doesn’t mean for us to focus on the son so much as on the father, whose response to the waywardness and repentance of his son is categorically generous, to say the least. My professor preferred rather to call this familiar story the “Parable of the Merciful Father.”

Admittedly, what we call a parable is of significantly less importance than what we understand it to mean. But my professor was right in insisting that we must focus on Jesus’ focus.

In our Gospel this Sunday, we’re given several parables to ruminate upon—the parables of the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the prodigal son. These are parables we’ve all heard many times before. They center on the themes of “return,” of repentance, of rejoicing. But in our familiarity, we often overlook what the focus of these parables really is: not our subjective experience of conversion or repentance, but the almost foolish abandonment of God in pursuing us.

Our God is relentless! He desires us immensely. I always chuckle a bit when I read the question Jesus poses to the Pharisees and scribes: “What man among you having a hundred sheep and losing one of them would not leave the ninety-nine in the desert and go after the lost one until he finds it?” The answer, of course, is no one! No self-respecting businessman would abandon such a valuable flock—in the desert of all places!—to pursue a single errant sheep. But our God does. Why? Because He’s the lover of His creation. He knows us intimately, and even in our sinfulness (or whatever ways we find ourselves to be undesirable), He pursues us. And when we finally make that return to Him from wherever we’ve been, however we’ve strayed, He rejoices, because we are of greatest value to Him.

These parables highlight something intensely true about conversion: the emphasis is far less upon us than it is upon our relentless God. If we remove the obstacles we have to conversion, God’s grace cannot help but prevail in our lives. That’s exactly what the Sacrament of Confession is about. It’s about identifying those roadblocks to grace and allowing God to restore us. And we can be assured of this: when we allow Him to pursue us, to manifest His power in our lives, to call us back to Himself, “there will be joy in heaven.”

Do yourself a favor and let yourself be found. Like the prodigal son, bring yourself to the confessional—to the throne of God’s mercy—and experience the joy God has when we return to Him. Don’t worry or fret, because the work of conversion really belongs to God. For our part, we just have to want to be found.

Fr. Michael Friedel is a Parochial Vicar for the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception and the Chaplain of Sacred Heart Griffin.

Your questions, answered.

Candidly, as a father of five not-yet-confirmed children, when I first heard of the concept of “restored order of the sacraments of initiation,” I thought it was a terrible idea to lower the age of confirmation to third grade. As I listened and learned, however, I found myself saying to Bishop Thomas John Paprocki, “Please confirm my children as soon as possible!”

I know many parents and grandparents have the same initial reaction to restored order, so I want to share what changed my mind. Here are answers to the common questions I originally had and what friends ask me today. I hope you find this helpful.

Why would we start confirming children at a younger age?

First, it’s important to note that we are not starting something new. Aside from fairly recent history, it has always been the church’s practice to first confirm new members and then welcome them to receive Communion. This practice held for adults and children, alike, and it has continued to the practice of RCIA. In fact, the Catechism of the Catholic Church clearly affirms the proper sequence in paragraph 1322: “The holy Eucharist completes Christian initiation.”

The current approach of inverting the sequence of first Eucharist and confirmation first appeared in France in the middle of the 19th century, as the bishops sought a longer formation period for confirmandi. In 1879, Pope Leo XIII rebuked the French practice and ordered the original sequence to be restored, but the bishops failed to make the change. The practice spread subsequently to the American church as well.

So, the real question is not why we would lower the age of confirmation, but rather what have we gained by deferring it to a later age? The facts in this regard are eye-opening. Consider that nearly 80 percent of all fallen away Catholics were never confirmed, and the average age of Catholics falling away from the faith is 13 years old. By deferring the age of confirmation, we have deprived these children of the gifts of the Holy Spirit, which are strengthened by the sacrament of confirmation. We will never know what might have otherwise happened for them.

OK, but why now? How is this going to help our children?

Bishop Paprocki summed it up best, saying: “Given what our children are confronting in society, why would we delay the grace of confirmation — a grace that can protect them from those dangers.”

Our children are facing an unprecedented barrage of threats to their emotional well-being and moral clarity. With the invasiveness of technology and social media, nearly half of all children report being victims of cyberbullying. More than 70 percent have witnessed cyberbullying and are concerned about it, and victims of cyberbullying are as much as nine times more likely to commit suicide. Girls are twice as likely to be victimized by cyberbullying than boys. Meanwhile, 97 percent of boys have viewed pornography, nearly one quarter have tried to stop but can’t, and 13 percent report watching increasingly graphic and violent pornography.

Deferring confirmation deprives our children of special graces that can help them withstand the spiritual challenges of this new reality. Further, deferring confirmation until they are already swimming in these waters also increases the likelihood that they will experience barriers to the sacramental grace. After all, as St. Thomas Aquinas teaches us, there are three obstacles to grace: lack of faith/insincerity; lack of repentance; and presence of demons. (STL III 66-68) Therefore, delaying confirmation is a double-edged sword: It deprives our children of grace they badly need at a younger age; and it likely decreases the effectiveness of the sacrament in their lives.

Won’t students leave our schools/programs after third grade?

As a point of fact, enrollment in Catholic schools in the Archdiocese of Denver has increased since the implementation of restored order there. This doesn’t mean that restored order caused the increase, but it certainly shows that students didn’t flee the system after third grade. Further, our PSR programs provide sound preparation for the sacraments of initiation. So, there is already a free alternative to Catholic schools. Therefore, sacramental preparation cannot be the only reason parents invest in Catholic education for their children. To be clear, we have much work to do to ensure our schools remain affordable and compelling for students and parents, especially in the formation of the whole person as a disciple of Christ. Sacramental preparation is an important part, but only a part, of this mission.

How can we expect third-graders to be prepared to confirm their own faith as adults in the church?

This question points to a couple common points of misunderstanding regarding the sacrament of confirmation. The first over-emphasizes the action of the confirmand in the sacrament, and the second mistakenly views confirmation as a sort of graduation from faith formation. Paragraph 1308 of the Catechism states: “Although Confirmation is sometimes called the ‘sacrament of Christian maturity,’ we must not confuse adult faith with the age of natural growth, nor forget that the baptismal grace is grace of free, unmerited election and does not need ‘ratification’ to become effective.”

It is certainly important that recipients of the sacraments be properly disposed and prepared to receive the sacraments. As noted above, however, there is a very high probability that a thirdgrader is more open, receptive, and properly disposed to this sacramental grace than an eighth-grader. Conversely, it is more likely that an eighth-grader faces greater obstacles to grace. The church has deemed the age of reason to be the age of 7.

But confirmation and Eucharist in the same year? Isn’t this a lot for children to grasp?

If an 8-year-old is able to understand enough about the Eucharist — that the bread and wine are changed with the words of consecration and become the very Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Christ —and be properly disposed to receive the Eucharist reverently, then it seems reasonable that he or she is also able to understand what it means when we teach that the Holy Spirit gives seven gifts to be used in faith. In fact, this is why the church established the “age of reason” as the appropriate normal age for reception of the sacraments of initiation.

Quoting St. Thomas Aquinas, the Catechism of the Catholic Church wisely reminds us that “age of body does not determine age of soul. Even in childhood, man can attain spiritual maturity: as the book of Wisdom says: ‘For old age is not honored for length of time or measured by number of years’ (4:8). Many children, through the strength of the Holy Spirit they have received, have bravely fought for Christ even to the shedding of their blood” (CCC, 1308).

Will the diocese be offering a curriculum or any kind of lesson planning resources for teachers?

Yes, the diocese is offering resources. Most of the publishers the parishes use already offer curriculum for restored order, since it is becoming increasingly common across the country.

Is this change being made in other dioceses?

This change has been encouraged by both Pope Benedict XVI and by Pope Francis, and many bishops are implementing or planning for the restored order. In the United States, about 15 dioceses to date have implemented the restored order, including Phoenix, Denver and Spokane. Earlier this year, the Denver Archdiocese reported: “The Archdiocese of Denver, as it nears the completion of its transition to Restored Order Confirmation, has seen a number of fruits: greater parent participation in religious education, a new curriculum and parent resources, and a more dynamic approach to catechesis.”

Isn’t this a lot for our teachers?

It is certainly a significant change for our teachers, but our schools are blessed with gifted and talented teachers who are eager to do what is best for their students. Each parish has the flexibility to choose the curriculum and transition approach they feel is best for their teachers and students. So, as your school implements restored order, please be patient. Let’s remember that we should treat this as an opportunity to form lifelong disciples of Christ.

How is this going to work in my school?

Since each parish has flexibility to manage the transition in the way they see fit over the next few years, you should ask your pastor or principal for the plan at your parish or school. Some are taking a slower approach, phasing the change in over time, while others have already completed the transition by confirming children in grades 3-8 in a single year.

Final thought …

Let’s allow the Holy Spirit to do what he does best — inspire, teach, and guide us. I’m confident, if we put our trust in God and faith in the sacraments, restoring the sacraments to their proper sequence will be of great benefit, especially our young people.

Mike Christie is the Diocesan Director of Evangelical Diocesan Director of Evangelical and Catechetical Services and a Parishioner at Blessed Sacrament Parish, Springfield.