Friday was not a good day.

I didn’t sleep well the night before.  I woke up tired.  Work was a blur of activity, the phone never quit ringing, and though some things went amazing smooth, others did not.  I was tired.  But more then that, I was disgusted with myself.  These were the day’s that I should love, the days that I thrive on.  These are the days that I should be able to work hard for ten hours straight, grab a beer or two after work, go to the gym and meet people out afterwards to celebrate the end of a good week.

But I couldn’t.

I let the concerns of the week weigh me down.  Not just the concerns of the week, but the concerns of my life.  I let the dark shadows of my mind rule me thoughts and my actions.  Rather then celebrate, I slept.  Rather then have joy in the all fo the wonderful things that I have in my life, I mourned over my short comings, my failings, and my sins.

This week’s reading from the Letter of St. Paul to the Roman’s is one that gave me hope in my shortcomings for St. Paul writes, “The Spirit comes to the aid of our weakness…”

Several years ago, then Minnesota Governor Jesse Ventura made the comment that “religion is a crutch for the weak minded.”  He was lambasted in the press and by some religious leaders.

But Jesse was right.

Perhaps crutch is a poor term, but throughout the Bible, the Lord reminds us that we are all weak.  We are all subject to our human frailties.  Our weaknesses and our sinful natures make us human.

But through the intercession of our Lord, these weaknesses are turned into strengths and our sins are washed away on the gibbet of the cross.  If we listen to the words of the gospel, if we open our hearts, if we admit our weakness, our hearts become a fertile ground for the seeds of life to spring forth.

It is by confessing this weakness, it is in knowing our sinfulness, it is in failing, and falling, but standing up again and again to do the good deeds, to fight the good fight, to live a good life in the Spirit, and with the Spirit that we are granted His strength.

We are all weak.  We all need His strength.  May the Lord grant us the wisdom of the Psalmist who said:

“You, O Lord, are a God merciful and gracious,

slow to anger, abounding in kindness and fidelity.

Turn toward me, and have pity on me;

give your strength to your servant.”

 This time of summer is the high point on the farm on the upper great plains.

 The cows are usually all fresh.  The young calves have been weaned.  The corn is reaching for the sky.  The beans are slowly covering the rows.  The wheat is waving in the wind as it heads out and storms to ripen.  Things are green and lush from the usual summer rain falls.

The fence rows, the meadows, the sloughs - everything seems to bask in the warmth of summer.

The reading from Isaiah 55: 10-11 certian warms an old farm boys heart too: “The rain and snow come down and do not return there till they have watered the earth, making it fertile and fruitful, giving seed to the one who sows and breat to the one who eats, so shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth.”

For in the end, just as the Lord gives us the sun and rain, the fertile soil, and the wonders of creation - perhaps the most valuable of all of his gifts is his words of life for us - the words that unlock the mysteries, but that are the mystery.  The Savior and the Sacrifice, the Shepard and the Pascal Lamb, the Gate to Eternal Life.

While the Lord grants us the rain and sunshine, the warmth and the fertile soil - he also gives us a choice - what do with them.

We till the soil, nurture the seeds, clear the weeds and the clutter of the landscape to feed and nuorish out bodies. 

How many of us are prepared - prepare our hearts, our minds, our souls - to accept His word, to nourish it with thought, with prayerful reflection, by living it with in our daily lives, by actively seeking to sow the word and nourish the poorest of his children.  How many of us, like the farmer tends the fields, truely tend to the most precious of all the seeds - the seed of His loving word.

The Lord himself lays it out for us in Matthew - where the seed of His word lands is very important.  If our souls are well prepared, the roots will set down deep and it will be an unending source of nourishment.  If we allow doubts and fear to steal the word of hope from us, if we allow discouragements to steal that seed of hope, if we let worldly anxieties to steal the word - we will live a life without hope, a life without joy, a life devoid of the undying faith in Him that will sustain us in this world and carry us to the next.

In the end, the Lord is a master farmer, all we must only have faith, pray, and act that he might show us how to reap a bountiful harvest.

Today we celebrate the lives and faith of St. Peter and St. Paul.

What an odd combination.

On the one hand, we have a poor fisherman.  A poor, uneducated, laborer used to the hard labor of casting nets and hauling in a days catch.

On the other hand, you have a learned, educated, religious zealot, intent on destroying the Christian faith.

Then the guiding hand of the Lord steps in.

The poor fisherman becomes “the rock” that the Lord will build his church around, the man that the Lord hands over his church here on earth.  The leader of the Apostles through faith and through action.

The anti-Christian zealot will be the man that spreads the Gospel throughout the known world.  He will be the one that will argue and debate, and send letters that we read to this very day.

Who would have guessed that these two very different men would be lead by the Spirit to lead the early chuch here on earth?

Who would have guessed that the Holy Spirit would guide them on these roads?

Who knows where the same Holy Spirit is guiding us today - if we but have the courage to listen…

I have never been popular.  I’ve never been accused of having good looks, or a good body.  I have never been known to be on the cutting edge of fashion and style.

But society and peer pressure takes its toll on me, and probably on all society.

Do I have the right job?  The right car?  Live in the right neighborhood?  Am I keeping up with the Jone’s?

I’ll admit, I live in fear sometimes.  The fear of not being accepted.  The fear of losing all I’ve worked for.  The fear of scorn and rejection of my friends, or worse my family.

Both friends and family are quick to cut us down when we step out of the societal or even family norms.  The ridicule is worse when it comes from those that we respect and admire.

We must watch what we say, watch what we do, watch to make sure that we live our lives in the “acceptable” way.  In the way that conforms to our family, or our friends, or society’s norms.

And watch out when we step out of line.

It is when I think of all these norms that I think of my little sister.

My sister Margaret has defied conventional wisdom more then once in her life.

“You must drive a car.” Says society.

“But I don’t want to.” Says Margaret.

“You must have a practical educational experience” Says society.

“But I’m not sure what I want to do.” Says Margaret.

“You must work hard and strive to get ahead.” Says society.

“But I want to work hard and learn Irish dance, or ballet, or be in a play or work on my computer.” Says Margaret.

“You must grow up and act like a proper adult.” Says society.

“What is a proper adult and what does that mean, and what if I don’t like it?” Says Margaret.

Margaret has seen her fair share of struggles.  She has struggled with faith.  She has struggled with societal and family norms.  Some days, I know she lives in fear.

When it comes down to it, I love my little sister.  I don’t know if I approve of everything she does, but I pray like Jeremiah does, that the Lord will be with her like a mighty champion.  That the Lord will Bless her, guide her and all her endeavors.

I pray that she can live a life without fear.  For I know that as much as I love my sister, the Lord loves her even more and just as he cares for the sparrow in the nest, he loves her, and guides her, and will not leave her abandoned.

(The following is written by Mr. Mark Johnson, a very good friend of mine, a very good writer, and a pretty perceptive.  Mr. Johnson is a country boy as well and resides in South Dakota with his wife and two sons)

My wife and I have sheep.  We don’t have the space for cattle or the facilities for pigs. Since we are lovers of animals and gluttons for punishment, we have sheep. So somewhere in the racket of our daily routine, we make time for some shepardly husbandry. Although I will admit, they are strange animals that do strange things.

Any time the flock senses we are outdoors, to them, it must be feeding time. They call, begging us with their “baaaah!” Much to their displeasure they are only fed once daily, making it a time of frenzy. When we aren’t going to get the mail or just walking across the yard, and the woolen creatures actually get their way, the frenzy is on!

It starts when they see us go towards the hay. They charge towards us with reckless abandon. And of course, if one of them jumps whether it is something or nothing the thirty-nine followers all jump over the same spot. It is a race to see who can get to the bunk first. The sheep race each other, they also race me. A few rude old gussies will stand in the bunk, while others will lag behind. But they all know it is time.

It is all fun and games when the dry old hay is being fed. It is filling, but not satisfying. When the shake of a pail of corn occurs, it stokes the emotion of the flock. Some show rage, others enlightened euphoria. Make no mistake about it the corn is king! I wade through, struggling to get the grain to the feed trough, but I am always met by knee-high wooly hit men, struggling to be the first to get their sweet fix.

So why would I chronicle the life and times of a hungry old sheep? Because I had a realization that sheep and mankind really aren’t that different.

People are never happy. We want what we don’t have. We often follow, even though we’re not always sure who we’re following or what obstacles we will be jumping over. We push to get what we want. And we don’t care who is in our way.

We would be excited when it would rain.  A good summer thunderstorm would cause puddles to form in our drive way on the farm.  As soon as the rain had stopped and the lightening moved on to the east, we boys would run outside, grab sticks, shovels, or the hoe from the garden and rush to the puddles.  We would block up flows, creating dams in the tractor tire tracks along side the barn.  We would back up lakes on the drive way.  We would do feats of engineering marvels.

Dad didn’t always appreciate our efforts.  “Look at you kids playing around in the mud!” He’d say.

“Boys were meant to be dirty.”  Our mother would state and the dam building would continue.

Growing up with four boys in the house (and one younger sister), Mom’s statement seemed to be true.  If there was a puddle we would find it.  If there was someway to get dirty, we could get it on us.

Sometimes, we want to stay too clean.

Sometimes, we want it that way in our spiritual life too.

The Pharisee’s questioned why Jesus would spend time with tax collectors and known sinners, to which Jesus responded, “I do not come to call the righteous, but sinners.”

Sometimes, we want to keep our spiritual life away from the dirt and grim of the world.  Keep it in church, keep it in our hearts.

But our faith, like boys, was meant to get dirty.

We must actively live our faith.  We must go out in the world, amid the dirt and grim of sin and dispare and live our faith.  The poor, materially and spiritually need to nourished.  The hungry, in body and spirit, need to be feed.  The homeless, in physical or mental state, must be sheltered.

The sinners need the light of Christ.  We must be the physician for the hurting.  We must be the one willing to wad into the filth of every day life and bring the healing power of the Lord to the sinners.

But here is the secret - we are all sinners.

We must be Christ for one another.  We must love Christ above all else.  We must be like Abraham and hope in Him and Love him - and we must, realize that through His grace, we are all one with Him.  So by loving Him, we love our neighbors.  By loving Him, we are driven to help the poor, the hungry, the homeless.

Or put another way, by helping our neighbors, by helping our fellow sinners, by genuine and sincere love for our fellow man, we show our love for Christ.

We live sinful lives in a sinful world, but we must, for the love of our Lord Jesus Christ, wad into the grim, wad into the mud of our world to be Christ for one another…in the enduring hope that we will be washed clean in the blood of the Lamb.

I will admit, I pray.

I pray for my family.  I pray for my friends.  I pray for wisdom. I pray for guidance.

But part of prayer is listening as well.  Opening your heart and mind to the will, to the voice of the Lord.

He can be sneaky.  And often times, the answers are not always what we want to hear and not often that recognizable at first glance.

I remember sitting at Mass on morning.  There were a thousand things going on in my life and in my mind.  I was struggling.  I prayed, Lord, just give me peace.

What Bible versus do you think was recited after communion?  “My peace I give you, but peace as I know it, not as you know it.”

Who says the Lord doesn’t answer prayer.

In this day and age, we want answers now.

Moses set before his people the blessing and the curse - follow the will of God and live, or disobey them and die.  Jesus says it in an even more recognizable way - through one of his many parables.  The wise man built his house upon the rock.  The foolish man in the sand.  When the storms hit, whose house was left standing?  “Everyone who listens to these words of mine and acts will be the wise man.” says the Lord.

It seems we might be in trouble - how can we be saved?

It is hard sometimes to hear the message, to hear the call of the Lord.  It is hard in these modern times to live a life of purpose.  Part of it is because our society is putting less and less emphasis on prayer and contemplation.  Part of it is because we are putting less and less upon listening.  Part of it too is that we need to be patient - which in this age of instant gratification is a tough concept to understand.

But there is hope.

If you listen to the words of the Psalm today, the Lord is giving us part of the answer:

Be my rock of refuge,
  a stronghold to give me safety
You are my rock and my fortress;
  for your name’s sake you will lead and guide me.

Let your face shine upon your servant;
  save me in your kindness.
Take courage and be stouthearted,
  all you who hope in the Lord.

As we go forward, may we continue to have that hope in the Lord.

As a child, I can still remember my first communion.  It was May 1st, my grandparents were there.  My whole family was there.  There was a reception in the church basement after Mass for all of my classmates, then we went home to a great meal.

What I also remember is the sense of warmth, the sense of peace that I received.

We sometimes forget that the Mass is more then just a church service we attend, it is recieving the body and blood of Christ.  It is that overwhelming feeling.  When I leave Mass, I feel a little lighter, my heart feels a little stronger, I feel like I go forward with the strenght of God to do his will in the wicked world.

Sometimes to, we forget that the Mass is a celebration, a communion, with the entire church.  We celebrate it just as it is celebrated around the state, around the country, and around the world.  On this feast of Corpus Christie, I’ve had the pleasure of celebrating it in Rome with thousands of other people with Pope John Paul II.  Today, I will celebrate the Mass at Westminster Cathedral in London, and I have celebrated it at home in our humble parish church.  But in the end, we celebrate it TOGETHER, as the the children of God. 

The Mass, the celebration, is never ending.

On this feast of the Body and Blood of Christ, may we to realize that we are but one small part in this body of Christ, but as important as all the rest.

I’m a sinner.  I drink to much.  I gossip.  I waste time.  I’m not always kind to my friends and family, let alone strangers.  I don’t always make the right decisions.  Often times, I am blinded with my own fear, greed, or conceit.

In short, when Moses asks the Lord to pardon the wickedness and sins of his stiff-necked people, he might have been pointing at me.

The Lord gives us hope, and Paul gives us good advice.  “Rejoice!  Mend your ways, encourage one another, live in peace, and the God of love and peace will be with you.”

But perhaps John says it even better in his gospel, “God did not send His Son into the world to condemn it, but that the world might be saved through Him.”

We are a stiff-necked people.  We often don’t see our sins, we don’t see how we hurt each other with our words, our actions, or through omission.

We must humble ourselves.  We must bend these stiff necks of ours, we must break our egos, we must break our hearts of stone and open our hearts and minds.

How hard it is to live a life in fear.  Fear of falling behind materially.  Fear of shame through doing or being something outside of the soceital norms.  Fear of leaving our sinful nature behind.  We know it so well…it is fear that sometimes prevents us from shedding it.

But think of how easy it would be to live the prescription that Paul lays out for us. Mend our ways - turn away from sin, turn away from temptation.  Encourage one another - a kind word, a remembered birthday, living our lives for those around us.  Live in peace - the troubles of the world are many, but the Lord will provide when we work hard and look out for those around us.

May we take these words to heart this Trinity Sunday.  And may we know the blessings Paul wished for us: “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you.”

“You are not wearing that shirt to school today.” Scolded my older brother Tom.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because you are going to Mass today and a college sweatshirt is not appropriate.”  Tom said.

Older brothers, especially home from college, could sure be bossy.

But upstairs I went, to change into a button shirt.  All the other kids would be wearing t-shirts and jerseys, but noooooooo, not me.  I had to wear a stuffy button shirt.

But it was the right thing to do, and while I hate to admit it…my older brother was right.  It might seem like a small thing, but it sure made me think about the service and what it meant.

Twenty-five years later, it should come as no surprise that today, we are celebrating my brother Tom’s ordination to be a deacon in the Catholic Church.  A deacon after is a servant.  In the Acts of the Apostles, the Apostles had to focus on preaching the word, spreading the gospel.  They needed faith filled men, well respected to feed the poor, and serve the people.

That discribes my brother darn near perfectly.

Tom is the oldest of us five kids.  Ultimately, when Mom or Dad weren’t around, we were to listen to Tom.  I was pretty young when Tom went off to college, so the memories are little fuzzy compared to my other brothers.

But I remember clearly when I was in high school.

Our mother got sick when I was a junior in high school.  Though Tom and his wife Mary (a real partnership might I add) lived in central Iowa, they made the eight hour trek pretty often to spend a little bit of time with Mom and make sure that things were going ok.

For my graduation, it was Tom and Mary, with the help of some aunts, that made sure that things were done properly, from the food to the decorations.  They were there to help and support my younger sister and I when we needed it through those tough times.  From driving the eight hours to make it to a parents day at college that they knew my parents couldn’t make it to due to Mom’s illness, to making sure that we took a little time at Christmas to enjoy the season by taking us to the Fargo Theater for one of their winter concerts.

If that isn’t being a servant, I don’t know what is.

I’m proud of my brother and his wife.  They are embarking on a very difficult, but worthy journey.  Serving the their parish, serving their fellow man, and serving our Lord.

I guess I better not wear a college sweatshirt to the ordination…