Encouragement in the Christian life

He is Risen! He is Risen, Indeed! On Tuesday of Holy Week, all of the priests of the Archdiocese of Boston gathered with Archbishop Henning for the Chrism Mass, and we renewed the promises made on the day of our ordination. Seated to my right was a priest ordained only three years ago. Directly in front of me was a priest in a wheelchair who was ordained over fifty years ago. All of us share in the gift of the one priesthood of Jesus Christ. Also, at that Mass the Archbishop consecrated the sacred oils that will be used throughout the Archdiocese until the next Chrism Mass. Thus, all of the baptisms, confirmations, priestly ordinations, and anointings of the sick in every parish throughout the Archdiocese will be linked to the ministry of our Archbishop. On Holy Thursday five brother priests joined Fr. Sijo and Fr. Patrick and me for an early dinner at our rectory. Holy Thursday is a day of great significance to all Catholics, but it holds special meaning to priests because it is the day on which Christ instituted the priesthood. It is the day that our vocation was born. It was wonderful to have a nice mid-day meal together and to build up our priestly fraternity. The Mass of the Lord’s Supper on Holy Thursday this year was one of those liturgical moments in life when I felt as though I had been taken up out of the 02180 zip code and transported to the Upper Room. It was, for me, one of those moments when you realize that you have been given a pure gift. When we enter into the Liturgy with faith, obedience, liturgical humility and docility, attentiveness, and with charity, we become better receptive to what the Lord wants to do. We do our small part and then God does something beyond our natural capacities. Being in the Upper Room with all of you on Holy Thursday was an amazing gift to me. On Good Friday, Fr. Patrick, Fr. Sijo, and I were scheduled to hear confessions for two hours. We went non-stop for three hours. Similarly, on Holy Saturday the confession times had to be extended because of how many of you were there. In the confessional, we stand beneath the Cross of Christ and His Mercy pours out upon the sinners He came to save. What an amazing thing it is to spend hours listening to people humbly acknowledging their sins, sometimes after carrying heavy, crushing burdens for decades upon decades. What a gift it is for a priest when he is able to help those persons experience Divine Mercy. The Devil wants to imprison people in shame, guilt, and in the past. Jesus comes to set captives free. Hearing long hours of heavy confessions is completely exhausting and completely life-giving and amazing. Thank you all for coming. Congratulations to all of those who were weighed down and are now free! Blessed Be God! We had, I think, a beautiful Lent and Sacred Triduum together. I am grateful to all of those who made that possible, particularly our ushers, musicians, and all who served at the altar. I thank our clergy–deacons and priests–and the whole parish staff for their outstanding work. In particular, I thank Deacon Frank who was on top of every last detail (of which there are many)! This year, throughout the Triduum and on Easter Sunday, I felt that people were hungering for and receptive to the Word of God. There was an openness and a desire to be drawn more deeply into the mysteries of Christ. As I finish this letter, we have now received word that the Holy Father, Pope Francis has died. Easter Day is celebrated as an Octave. It is kind of like there is so much joy over Easter, that it can’t be squeezed into a twenty-four hour period, so the Church celebrates Easter Day for eight days. Pope Francis died within that Octave. May he share now in the everlasting joy that Christ’s resurrection brings. I think a good telltale of whether Lent and the Sacred Triduum went well is by how exhausted you are at the end of it. I can’t speak for the rest of the clergy and staff, but I know I am exhausted! Happily exhausted, but exhausted! I am grateful for living these mysteries with you. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes

He is Risen! He is Risen Indeed! That is an ancient greeting that Christians use during the Easter Season to greet one another. One person says, “He is Risen!” And the other responds, “He is Risen Indeed.” (Or, He is Truly Risen!). During the Easter Vigil, the Church sings the following words: “The sanctifying power of this night dispels wickedness, washes faults away, restores innocence to the fallen, and joy to mourners. O truly blessed night, when things of heaven are wed to those of earth, and divine to the human.” Even though we are only at the very beginning of the fifty-day Easter Season, my heart spent all of Lent already crying out, “He is Risen! He is Risen Indeed!.” I cannot adequately express what joy it brings to the priests of our parish that we were swamped by confessions this Lent. The world needs mercy. We need less harshness, less bitterness, less resentment, and less unforgiveness. We need less wickedness. The heart longs for forgiveness, for cleansing, for restored innocence, and for joy. It seems like an impossible wish list. The darkness that afflicts the world can seem indomitable. But what seems even more indomitable is death itself. Today, however, we proclaim that Christ is risen from the dead. He defeated even death itself. And He comes back carrying with Him the remedy for all of us. He gives to us what seemed impossible. He opens the way for us to be free, to be innocent, to be forgiven, and to live a new life. All Lent long people previously condemned by the twisted lie that there is no way forward, walked into the confessional. There, in the tribunal of truth, they humbled themselves before the Lord. And there, they encountered the Risen Christ. They encountered Mercy. There are so many times as a priest hearing confessions I have thought, “If this one confession was the only thing I ever did as a priest, it would be enough.” To be an instrument of the Lord’s Mercy and a witness to Christ setting someone free is extraordinary. Every penitent sinner who receives sacramental absolution is a sign of the victory of Christ. Easter may begin today, but its evidence is always around us, especially in the Sacraments. Every sincere confession and absolution that took place here this Lent could be described this way: “He is Risen! He is Risen Indeed!” On behalf of priests, deacons, pastoral and administrative staff of St. Patrick Parish, I wish you extraordinary graces during this Easter Season and I thank you for being such a wonderful parish family. I feel very privileged. He is Risen. He is Risen Indeed! Fr. David Barnes

At the very beginning of the Gospels, Jesus began calling his disciples. He invited them to follow Him. He invited them to leave the familiar behind and to trust Him. “Come and see.” “Go out into the deep.” “Follow me.” Those first disciples must have long remembered that initial encounter and that first, “Yes,” that they gave to the Lord. Their discipleship, however, was only beginning. Every moment of every day after that, the Lord was inviting them to affirm that initial, “Yes.” They had set out on the life-long adventure of discipleship. As we draw towards the end of Lent and enter into this Holy Week, my heart is filled with gratitude for the many ways in which you said, “Yes” this Lent. We added an extra daily Mass during Lent. You said, “Yes.” We added more confession times. You said, “Yes.” We had a Lenten retreat day. You said, “Yes.” We had a three-night series on learning to pray. You said, “Yes.” There was a group that met each Tuesday evening during Lent to grow in faith and prayer. You said, “Yes.” Young couples and families prayed Stations together each Friday and then had a meal together. They said, “Yes.” It is so easy to get distracted from staying on the path of discipleship. Various concerns, anxieties, worries, memories, fears, resentments, temptations, and problems clamor for our attention. We can easily allow these things to occupy too much of our thoughts and energy, and then we drift off course. This is why having companions on the road is so critical. When we walk in the company of people who are saying, “Yes,” to Christ, our life is reordered back to discipleship. When we see others who are following Christ, it awakens in us a greater desire to remain faithful to Him. Yes, the problems and difficulties of life are important, but the presence of other disciples reminds us that we live these problems and difficulties in a new way. We are walking with Christ. We sometimes make idols out of our worries, burdens, anxieties, fears, and problems. We spend too much time worshiping them by giving them too much time and energy. The presence of companions on the road reminds us that these problems are not everything. The Christian friend awakens in us confidence that we are not alone. It awakens in us courage to move forward. Today we begin Holy Week. It is the week for us all to be together. On Holy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and Easter Sunday we walk together. We enter Jerusalem today with Christ. We enter the Upper Room together on Holy Thursday. We go to Calvary together on Good Friday. On Holy Saturday, together we wait. On Holy Saturday evening and on Easter Sunday, we go to the tomb together to rejoice in the Resurrection. I look forward to living this week together with you. In seeing you and in walking with you, I come to see the power of the Christian, “Yes.” In seeing you live out your discipleship, it saves me from yielding to the cacophony of distractions that are part of life. An image came to mind for me about our parish during this Lent. You all were like a tree with your roots stretched out. No matter how much water was offered, you drank it in. You kept saying, “Yes.” I am grateful for that. Your drinking in what Christ has offered will undoubtedly produce great fruit. The week ahead offers so many graces to us. I hope that you keep drinking them in. Seeing your example encourages me to stretch out my roots and to drink also from Christ, the Living Waters. Together, on the Road with You, Fr. David Barnes

Recently I have heard from several young married couples how much they love our parish and how they wish they could stay here, but that they cannot afford to purchase a home in Stoneham. Their comments made me both sad and grateful. Sad because I do not want to lose the presence of these beautiful families from our parish. Grateful because all of you, by God’s grace, have made this parish into a place where young families want to come and stay. If you are looking to add something to your prayer list, perhaps pray that more faithful Catholic families might be able to find homes in our community. The presence of faithful Catholic families enriches our parish and is a sign of life. Who knows, maybe a way will be opened up that will allow these families to live here and be a blessing to us? Frs. Patrick, Sijo, and I heard all of our St. Patrick School students’ confessions during the past couple of weeks. I am grateful that their administrators and teachers provide them with excellent formation beforehand which allows the students to be truly prepared to receive the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Learning to trust the Lord with our sins at a young age is an excellent formation for the future. By learning how to make a good confession, a person learns that God’s Mercy is reliable. We can trust God with anything and he will forgive us. It makes me so happy to know that our students are learning this. As Lent draws quickly towards Holy Week, I want to encourage you to go to Confession before Easter. Since November, I’ve lost some weight. Before that, I knew I had gained weight. I knew I needed to do something about it. Every time I saw the scale in my room, I avoided stepping on it because I knew it would be bad news. So, I knew I weighed too much, but stepping on the scale seemed like something to avoid. If I didn’t actually see the bad news, I could pretend like everything was fine. That’s what sometimes happens with Confession. Every Catholic knows that they should go to Confession. Every Catholic knows that they NEED Confession. But, oftentimes they are afraid to step on the scale. So, they pretend like they’re fine. And what happens? The longer they wait to go, the more they carry all this weight around. It gets heavier and heavier. It becomes ridiculous. Now, unlike the real scale that can only tell you the bad news but not fix it, Confession is so much better! When we go to Confession and acknowledge all of our sins, the Lord takes the weight of our guilt away immediately. Sure, we have to commit to doing some future spiritual training and commit to avoiding sin, but the weight of guilt disappears immediately. (Oh, if only the bathroom scale were so powerful!) Now, the longer you put it off, the more difficult it gets. And you play mental games with yourself, but deep down, you know you need to do it. And it is often the case that you carry around all of this anxiety and guilt for so many years, and the longer you put it off, the more you feel guilty about putting it off which makes you put it off even more. And then, a person like that comes to confession and says, “It’s been fifty years since I’ve been to confession” and lists all of these sins that they’ve been carrying around with them forever. They’re embarrassed by some sins. They’re ashamed of some sins. They are terribly guilt-ridden by some sins. Some sins were so long ago and they want the priest to know that they’ve changed since then. And having carried all this weight around forever and been afraid to step on the spiritual scale, they do it. And a lifetime of guilt is wiped away. Gone. There is nothing–absolutely nothing–that you can confess that the priest hasn’t heard before. Don’t let sin and embarrassment hold that kind of power over your life. Just confess it and be set free. I’ve run out of space, but maybe I will write or speak more about confession in the weeks ahead. Either way, chances are, you could afford to lose a few pounds (or maybe a lot of pounds) of guilt weight. I pray that all of us have the courage, the Faith, and the Hope to go to Confession soon. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes

Usually when I write in the bulletin, in my mind, I am not writing to an anonymous group of persons who may or may not read these letters. I am thinking of the faces that I see each week sitting in the pews or in the rush at the end of Mass as you pass by. I am thinking about particular faces. Christianity is not vague or ambiguous. It is about particular persons. Firstly, it is about the persons of the Blessed Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. It is about particular brothers and sisters who sit near us at Mass. We do not love vaguely. We love particularly. This past week, I visited some homebound parishioners. Some I knew from when they were able to come to Mass regularly, but others I have never met. It struck me that there are faces I do not see who are also our parishioners. Today, in a particular way, I want to write to them. Maybe, in God’s Providence, their eyes might fall upon these words. Either way, I trust that there is no harm in writing to the faces that I do not see. Among the faces that I do not see are those previously mentioned. You are those who were long an active presence in our pews. You were the people who “did things.” You served on parish committees, volunteered in various capacities, and were well-known by everyone. You were the people who built this parish. Now, whether by age or by infirmity, you are no longer able to be here with us on Sundays. Your faces–though hidden from us–are nonetheless still a part of our parish. Even though you may be aged or infirm now, you are not off the hook. I ask you to continue your service to St. Patrick Parish by offering your sufferings for St. Patrick Parish and by praying for us. I have no doubt that your prayers and offerings continue to build up St Patrick Parish. There are also those who live within our parish boundaries who perhaps never participated in the life of the parish. You may also now be aged and infirm. Since you were never or rarely here, maybe you feel as though you do not belong. Do you know what the Church says? It says that you are our parishioner. It says that I am your pastor and the priests here are your priests. If you spent almost all of your life far away from the Church and the Sacraments, the good news is that word, “almost.” There is still time to be reconciled and to begin anew. You are included among the faces that belong here. There are those who maybe come on Christmas, Easter, Ash Wednesday, First Communions, Confirmations, or who send their children to St. Patrick School or to our parish religious education program, but who are otherwise not involved in the life of the community. There are those who simply drifted away from the practice of the Faith or who made a decision not to participate. Maybe along the way I upset you or someone else upset you. Maybe you drifted away because of some sin in your life. Maybe you have this nagging feeling on Sunday mornings or you say to yourself, “Someday I will go back.” I hope that “someday” comes sooner rather than later. Depriving yourself (and your children) of the Divine Life given in the Sacraments is spiritually harmful. As I write these words, I think of particular faces that I have seen here and there along the way who I wish were here every week. Your presence is missed and you could add so much to the life of others by being here. Please come back. There are as many reasons for not being here as there are faces. Each person absent from our midst is an individual, not a category. I hope in my generalizations I was able to capture, at least, some portion of those whose faces we do not see. Maybe ninety-nine out of one hundred people who read this do not need to see it. My hope is that maybe one person will see it and seek to return. Jesus came to seek out the one lost sheep. Whether you are not in our pews because of circumstances beyond your control or from willfulness, you are still a parishioner here. We want to attend to your spiritual needs. If you are ill or homebound, contact us and we will visit you. If you are healthy but not ready to come to Mass, you can still call and we will visit you. Whatever it takes. We want you here. You belong here. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes