Homilies

Palm Sunday of the Passion – 2026

Scripture: Matthew 21:1-11; Isaiah 50:4-7; Psalm 22: 8-9, 17-18, 19-20, 23-24; Philippians 2:6-11; Matthew 26:14-27:66

Homily from Abbot Lawrence

Since we have just heard St. Matthew’s account of the betrayal, trial, passion and death of

Jesus, it hardly seems appropriate for me to tell a personal story. But I will. About 35 years ago,

it was my great privilege to be in Jerusalem for Holy Week. At the time, Abbot Charles had

urged me to make the trip from Rome where I was in school. One of the great experiences I had

during the pilgrimage was to join with what likely was thousands of other Christians for the Palm

Sunday procession from atop the Mount of Olives and into the city of Jerusalem. It was a

beautiful day, and the atmosphere was one of joy – almost carnival like – as the diverse groups

sang out different versions of “Hosanna” in various languages while waving palm branches of all

sizes. It was easy to imagine the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem being very similar – a

crowd caught-up together in joy at the coming of the Lord into the Holy City. My memory of the

day remains very clear.

Perhaps that is why I find it very sad – even tragic – that the Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem,

Cardinal Pierbattista Pizzaballa, has had to cancel this year’s Palm Sunday procession from the

Mount of Olives. With yet another tragic war being waged in the Middle East directly affecting

the Holy Land – including Jerusalem – he has deemed it simply too dangerous. In fact, a number

of other traditional outdoor services are cancelled this year. Under the tragic uncertainty of war,

the small Christian community – our brothers and sisters in the faith – are thus prevented from

finding comfort in their greatest source of comfort – the free expression of their faith in the

company of others.

It is important for us to be aware of this hardship added to the displacement, injuries and

deaths of so many of our fellow Christians in some of the oldest Christian communities in the

world – in Iraq, Lebanon, Israel and Palestine, and yes in Iran as well. Along with their homes

and businesses, many churches and schools have been destroyed. Among the deaths of civilians

has been that of a Maronite Catholic priest who was rushing to the aid of his parishioners after

an episode of shelling in southern Lebanon.

Yes, even as we gather in the peaceful beauty of this Abbey Church, it is important for us to

be mindful of those who are suffering in various parts of the world – especially our brothers and

sisters in the faith. Not only is the Church suffering in the Middle East, but it also continues to

suffer in places like Ukraine and Russia, in Nigeria, in South Sudan, in Haiti, in Myanmar, in

parts of both Pakistan and India, and in various parts of Latin America. Even without the realities

of war and civil unrest faced daily by so many, we see more subtle persecutions of the Church in

Europe, Canada and even the United States. Sometimes that has ended in some form of violence.

It is important for us to be mindful of all of this so that we also understand more deeply the

still unfolding reality of that which we commemorate today and through the days of Holy Week

ahead of us – and to find in it the continuing unfolding of hope and life that Jesus brings. As we

recalled at the very beginning of our liturgy this morning, when Jesus entered triumphantly into

the city of Jerusalem amidst cries of “Hosanna to the Son of David, blessed is he who comes in

the name of the Lord,” he did so as the true and everlasting king coming into his own city – the

city of peace, the city of the living God.

But Jesus did not display his royal triumph ostentatiously with armies, chariots, splendid

horses and the latest and most advanced weapons of mass destruction. Rather, he displayed

his triumph with humility, riding on a beast of burden. He came not with the blare of trumpets,

but with the joyful cries of ordinary people. He came not with the fiery rhetoric of a demigod, but

with “a well-trained tongue” that spoke “to the weary a word that will rouse them.” In the face of

buffets and spitting, he did not lash out in revenge, but rather “set [his] face like flint, knowing

that [he would not] be put to shame.” And as the ancient hymn from the letter to the Philippians

proclaims: “he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness… he

humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death, / even death on a cross.” It was

because of his meek yet powerful humility that “God greatly exalted him / and bestowed on him

the name / which is above every name / … [at which] every knee should bend / and every tongue

confess that / Jesus Christ is Lord.”

Without doubt, great suffering continues to afflict our world – suffering caused by the logic

of greed, temporal power, prejudice, violence and war. We cannot but be touched by suffering –

whether it be the suffering of our brothers and sisters in distant lands, or the suffering we

experience in our own lives due to injustice, financial insecurity, family conflicts or chronic

illness. But also without doubt, what we commemorate today and in the coming days of Holy

Week reminds us that our loving God has entered and continues to enter the reality in which we

live. In doing so, he both gives us a word that brings hope to the weary and an example for us to

follow so that we might embody his triumph over the evils of sin and death. As St. Peter writes

in his first letter: “Christ also suffered for you, leaving you and example that you should follow

in his footsteps. … When he was insulted, he returned no insult; when he suffered, he did not

threaten; instead, he handed himself over to the one who judges justly. He himself bore our sins

in his body upon the cross, so that, free from sin, we might live for righteousness. By his wounds

you have been healed.” (2 Pet 2:21, 23-24)

My brothers and sisters, the example that Jesus Christ sets before us is not an easy one to

follow, but it is the only way in which the wounds of our world and of our lives can be and will

be healed. In the face of division, we must bring healing; in the face of hatred, we must extend

love; in the face of war, we must promote peace; in the face of lies, we must stand for what is

true. This is the path of true discipleship. In solidarity with all our brothers and sisters who

suffer, and in witness to those who perpetuate violence, we must embrace, embody and enact

the healing, love, peace and truth of Jesus Christ, and persevere in doing so until that day when

truly every knee in heaven, on earth and under the earth should bend at the name of Jesus, and

proclaim him as Lord to the glory of God the Father. Amen!

Homily of His Eminence, Christophe Cardinal Pierre – Papal Nuncio to the United States

Mass for the Sesquicentennial of the Mission of the Church in Oklahoma: Shrine of Blessed Stanley Rother, October 13, 2025

Readings for the Mass: Zephaniah Zephaniah 3:14-18a; Psalm 98: 1, 2-3ab, 3cd-4, 5-6; Ephesians 2:19-22; Matthew 28:16-20

Brothers and sisters in Christ, at the beginning of his new apostolic exhortation, Dilexi te, which means – you all know a bit of Latin, isn’t it true? If you don’t know, ask the monks in the back, because you know they all speak Latin. You know? – “I have loved you” That’s a beautiful title. “I have loved you.”

Pope Leo XIV reflects on these words taken from the book of Revelation, addressed to a church undergoing trial and persecution. These words are a divine assurance. Despite hardship, opposition and suffering, the Lord remains steadfast in his love. “I have loved you,” he says. Words meant to console, to strengthen and to remind his people that his providence never fails.

We gather here to celebrate 150 years of the mission of the Catholic Church in Oklahoma. And I’m very happy to know that the first founders were two French monks. Is that correct? You had forgotten that, no? Good beginnings! And they were coming from a very famous monastery, which still is functioning at La Pierre-qui-Vire.

So, as we celebrate this 150 years, these same words ring true for this local church. The Church’s early life here was one of poverty and challenge. Native American peoples had been forcibly removed from their ancestral lands and confined to territories determined by the U.S. government. Among them were Catholics whose faith was tested as their connection to priests and sacramental life was strained by distance and uncertainty. Yet, through it all, love endured. God did not abandon His people, but kept their hope alive and caused their faith to bear fruit.

From those humble and difficult beginnings, the Church in Oklahoma took root. That’s important. The Church took root, grew, and flourished. Don’t forget about these words: took root, grew and flourished. To the point that today, the State of Oklahoma has its own “Blessed.” Imagine! Fr. Stanley Rother, in whose shrine we celebrate this historic milestone!

In this Eucharist, we give thanks for the countless ways that God has shown his love to His people in this land. We give thanks for the steadfastness of faith, the courage of missionaries, the perseverance of communities, and the abundant fruit that has been borne over these 150 years. It is beautiful to see how today’s scriptures have been fulfilled in your midst.

From Zephaniah I quote: “the Lord has removed the judgment against you. He has turned away your enemies.” From St. Paul’s letter to the Ephesians: “You are strangers and sojourners no longer, but you are fellow citizens with the holy ones and members of the household of God.” These are powerful words! Words from the letter to the Ephesians. And from the Psalm: “Sing to the Lord a new song, for he has done marvelous deeds.”

This should be our prayer every day. This Eucharist is an act of thanksgiving offered to the Father in union with Christ. But precisely because it is our work of thanksgiving, the Eucharist is also the motive for our mission of charity. Charity comes from thanksgiving. We see this in the Gospel (MT 26:16-20), where eleven disciples go to the mountain. In the midst of worshipping Jesus, they are commissioned by him.

Prayer, mission. Prayer, mission. Prayer mission. Don’t stop. Just pray. Prayer, mission. Mission, prayer. And so forth, round and round and round. What’s more, we can truly speak of God’s preferential love for the poor.

This celebration then, in the midst of the Jubilee of Hope, is a great opportunity for the Church in Oklahoma to renew its commitment to the concrete love and the service of the poor. A powerful motive for doing so is to remember the poverty from which God has rescued us, as we have done briefly in our reflection on the history of the Church here.

Our ancestors in the faith, in the Old Covenant, were masters of this remembrance. They remembered the spiritual poverty of Adam and Eve, who had lost original innocence and hand to be banished from the Tree of Life. They remembered the desperation of Noah and his family, who rode the waters of the great flood into a new creation. They remembered the Hebrews’ enslavement in Egypt, before God laid out for them a path to freedom through the Red Sea. As they reflected on every moment of affliction in the past, they remembered God’s wondrous deeds, the revelation of His justice to the nations, and His kindness and faithfulness toward the House of Israel.

As we remember God’s faithfulness to us in the midst of our own stories, the stories of our community, and of our own personal stories, we discover the motive to extend the same divine love to the people who surround us, people who find themselves in various conditions of poverty.

In his document, Pope Leo lists faces of poverty. This helps us to recognize that everyone can find a concrete opportunity to share God’s love with the poor. These faces of poverty include – I’ll just take the text: “the poverty of those who lack material means of subsistence, the poverty of those who are socially marginalized and lack the means to give voice to their dignity and abilities, moral and spiritual poverty, cultural poverty, the poverty of those who find themselves in a condition of personal or social weakness or fragility, the poverty of those who have no rights, no space, no freedom.” (DT 9)

When Jesus says to the disciples on the mountain, “Behold, I am with you always until the end of the age,” he is promising his presence to us in two ways. First, He is promising to give us the power to baptize, to teach, and to love by giving us His own power, wisdom and love. Our Christian works are therefore guaranteed to be effective for salvation. Not because we are so great. Actually, we are not. But because it is God’s power working in and through us. Secondly, Jesus promises to be with us in the very people whom we serve, especially the poor. In these ways, our Lord promised to be with us always until the end of the age.

We speak much of the Real Presence of Jesus in the Eucharist. And that is true. But as Pope Leo makes explicit in Delixi te, our worship of Christ in the Eucharist is only authentic if we also love Christ in the poor. As the Apostle John writes: “Those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen cannot love God whom they have not seen.” (1 JN 4:20)

Brothers and sisters, congratulations on the 150^th anniversary. I would like to say to the Archbishop that I am totally unable to repeat the phrase. How is it? How do you call it in English? [Sesquicentennial.] Strange words, isn’t it? So, congratulations on this 150^th anniversary of the Catholic mission in Oklahoma.

May our hearts sing a new song for the marvelous deeds that God has done! And may we continue to make disciples, primarily through the witness of our love! Amen.

Homily of His Eminence, Christophe Cardinal Pierre – Papal Nuncio to the United States

Mass for the Sesquicentennial of the Mission of the Church in Oklahoma: Shrine of Blessed Stanley Rother, October 13, 2025

Readings for the Mass: Zephaniah Zephaniah 3:14-18a; Psalm 98: 1, 2-3ab, 3cd-4, 5-6; Ephesians 2:19-22; Matthew 28:16-20

May our hearts sing a new song for the marvelous deeds that God has done! And may we continue to make disciples, primarily through the witness of our love! Amen.

Pentecost Sunday 2025: St. Gregory’s Abbey

Readings: Acts 2:1-11; Psalm 104:1, 24, 29-30, 31, 34; 1 Corinthians 12:3b-7, 12-13; John 14:15-15, 23b-26

Homily from Abbot Lawrence Stasyszen, O.S.B.

“The Advocate, the Holy Spirit whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything and remind you of all that I told you." (John 14:26) My brothers and sisters, today we celebrate the fulfillment of the promise of Jesus that we just heard proclaimed. On this Pentecost Sunday, we recall the coming of the Holy Spirit as a mighty wind upon the apostles, filling them with the very fire of God to proclaim to the nations that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God our Father and for the salvation of the world. Today we celebrate also the gift of the Church, animated with the very breath of the Holy Spirit to remind us of all that Jesus has told us so that we as the Church might proclaim, teach and embody in our own flesh the salvation of our God through the love that we have for one another and for the world.

Before his passion and death, even as he established the new and everlasting covenant in his own body and blood, Jesus made this promise: that the Father would send the Advocate. And again, after he rose from the dead and before he ascended to his glory, Jesus told the apostles to return to Jerusalem to await the gift of the Holy Spirit. And although they still were fearful and uncertain as to what to do without the physical presence of Jesus, they did as he told them and kept a vigil of prayer while they waited for this promised gift.

When the promised Holy Spirit came upon them, they no longer were overwhelmed by fear, grief and uncertainty. Rather, they burst forth onto the streets of Jerusalem and proclaimed the gospel of salvation to peoples from all parts of the known world. Despite their differences of country of origin, social status, ethnicity and language, all who heard the apostles were able to understand the message they proclaimed. The divisions that sin had brought into the world over centuries were overcome in an instant, and the crowd became united through the power of the Holy Spirit!

This same Holy Spirit has remained active in the Church since that first day of Pentecost. Indeed, the Holy Spirit has made it possible for the Church to come down to our own day and has united us in the Body of Christ. Through the apostles and their successors, the Church has continued to move forward, enlivened with the Holy Spirit and accompanied by Jesus Christ who said to his apostles: the Advocate “will teach you everything and remind you of all that I told you.”

My brothers and sisters, this same Holy Spirit has gathered us here this morning. I know that in this small congregation there are persons who were born not only in North America, but also South America, Africa, Asia, the South Pacific and Europe. Through our baptism, and for most of us through the sacrament of confirmation, we have received the Holy Spirit and through the one Spirit are called in our diversity of gifts to be united in serving on Lord. As St. Paul first wrote to the Corinthians: “To each individual the manifestation of the Spirit is given for some benefit… For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body, whether Jews or Greeks, slaves or free persons, and we were all given to drink of one Spirit.” (1 Cor 12: 4, 11)

Sadly, sometimes we forget we are called by and equipped to be united in the Holy Spirit of God. Tragically, we lose sight of the words of Jesus who tells us today: “If you love me, you will keep my commandments. …Whoever loves me will keep my word, and my Father will love him, / and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him. / Those who do not love me do not keep my words; / yet the word you hear is not mine / but that of the Father who sent me.” In our weakness, we sometimes forget that we have been sealed in the Holy Spirit and we begin to manifest not unity in diversity, but rather division and conflict. We embody what St. Paul calls the works of the flesh, such as “immorality, impurity, licentiousness, idolatry, hatreds, rivalries, jealousy, outburst of fury, acts of selfishness, dissensions factions, envy” and the like. (Galatians 5:19-21) Rather than be united in Jesus Christ in the Holy Spirit, we become divided by giving into temptation and being animated by the spirit of the evil one who “prowls around seeking someone to devour.” (1 Peter 5:8) And like the holy water of Easter in the crystal bowl by the Paschal Candle, the waters of our baptism can seem to evaporate into thin air.

This need not be the case and indeed must not be. The Holy Spirit first poured out upon the apostles remains with us. The Holy Spirit remains our divine Advocate, prompting us, urging us on, defending us against the attacks of the foe with the seven-fold gifts in which we are sealed. (cf. Isaiah 11:1-2) When we find ourselves confused, fearful, weak and discouraged, we can call upon the Spirit to stir into flame these gifts of divine love.

We can call upon the gift of Wisdom so that we will see things from God’s perspective and make decisions that will be in line with unchanging divine truths rather than with fickle fads that try to capture our attention. We can call upon the gift of Understanding so that we might discern the demands of the Gospel and have insight into the struggles of others so that we might have empathy and compassion with those who need our help. We can call upon the gift of Counsel so that we might make choices that align with the will of God and are consistent with our faith when making decisions about vocational choices, moral questions, and when giving advice or correction to those whom we love. We can call upon the gift of Fortitude so that we might persevere in our faith and stand firm in our Christ-centered convictions against the temptations and persecutions of an age that is hostile to our faith and that rejects the objective truths that God has revealed to us through the Church. We can call upon the gift of Knowledge so that we hold onto what is good, beautiful and true in and age of moral relativism. We can call upon the gift of Piety so that we might have a deep reverence and love of God, respect for the dignity of others, and be good stewards of the earth. And we can call upon the gift of Fear of the Lord so that we might have a profound sense of awe and wonder at the presence and action of God in every moment of our lives and do nothing that would separate us from God and do all that we can to draw closer to God.

My brothers and sisters, these gifts of the Holy Spirit are promised to us, bestowed upon us, and work within us throughout our lives. This solemnity of Pentecost reminds us that the Holy Spirit will use these gifts to sustain us, strengthen us, motivate us and enable us to remain united in the love of God that is ours through our risen and ascended Lord, Jesus Christ. As we move into Ordinary Time, we need to ask the Holy Spirit to stir into flame these gifts that were poured out upon the apostles and in which we all have been sealed. If we receive these gifts with open hearts and willing minds, we not only will remain united in the Body of Christ, but will also bring hope to the world in the way we live in the fruit of the Spirit that is “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.” (Galatians 5:22-23) And so we pray: “Lord, send out your Spirit, and through us renew the face of the earth!” (cf. Psalm 104:30)

Easter Vigil 2025 – St. Gregory’s Abbey

Readings: Genesis 1:1-2:2; Genesis 22:1-18; Exodus 14:15—15:1; Isaiah 54:5-14; Isaiah 55:1-11; Baruch 3:9-15, 32C4:48; Ezekiel 36:16-17a, 18-28; Romans 6:3-11; Luke 24:1-12.

Homily from Abbot Lawrence

Thirty years ago, on April 19, 1995, a spirit of hatred, anger, retaliation, violence and terror exploded onto the streets of downtown Oklahoma City, and its shockwave immediately spread across Oklahoma, throughout the nation and even around the world. At the beginning what was to be a normal spring day, 168 of men, women and children, and four children in their mothers’ wombs, were killed in the blink of an eye. Hundreds more were injured, and untold numbers of lives were changed forever. Driven by all-consuming rage and self-righteousness, one man calculated for months, looking to the day when he would lash out to destroy political powers, cultural cohesion and innocent lives with as much suffering and death as he could. His actions continue to have an impact on our world today, although probably not in the ways he would have wanted.

Two thousand years ago, a spirit of hatred, anger, retaliation, violence and terror exploded onto the streets of Jerusalem. Religious leaders, powerful politicians and a fickle mob calculated, conspired and lashed out to humiliate and destroy an innocent man who came to witness to the truth. In their sense of rage and self-righteousness, they rejected the loving God who came to bring forgiveness, reconciliation and restored life to all who would listen to his voice.

In the face of the calculating hatred and ignorant actions of the crowd, this man did not lash out, did not humiliate, did not destroy. Rather he forgave, he endured all with loving humility, and he restored life to a fallen world. His actions continue to have an impact on our world today. But unlike the bomber of Oklahoma City who sought to advance his cause through darkness, destruction and death, the one whom we celebrate this night advanced his cause by bringing to us all light, liberation and life. And the success of his cause continues!

This is what we remember this night: Jesus Christ is risen and will never die again! Alleluia! Tonight, we acclaim our Risen Lord, who triumphs over the forces of darkness, destruction and death. On this anniversary of a profound and tragic act of domestic terror, we rejoice that we have so great a Savior. We rejoice that the life we find in him is more powerful than any terror that the evil one might stir up in our world.

In remembering the triumphant resurrection of Jesus Christ, we are called to remember also who we are through him, with him and in him. This night, we as the Church listen once again to the long story of God’s love for us, and the unfolding of God’s divine plan for our salvation. In listening to this story, we are called to discover once again – or even perhaps for the first time – that we are the object of God’s everlasting and merciful love. Tonight, we are called to remember the profound dignity that is ours through our union with the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ through the waters of our baptism. Tonight, St. Paul reminds us: “We were indeed buried with Jesus Christ through baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live in newness of life.”

My dear brothers and sisters in our Risen Lord, in a few moments we will have an opportunity to renew once again our profession of faith in the love and power of God – Father, Son and Holy Spirit. We will have an opportunity to reject Satan, the Father Lies and Prince of Darkness, and our desire to live in the Way, the Truth, the Light and the Life that is Jesus Christ our Lord. As we join together in this act of faith, let us resolve to live always as Children of the Light, so that the shadows of death that still linger in our world might be dispelled by the power of the Light of Life, our Risen Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ!

All Saints Day: November 1, 2023 – St. Gregory’s Abbey, Shawnee, Oklahoma

Readings: Revelation 7:2-4, 9-14; Psalm 24:1bc-2, 3-4ab, 5-6; 1 John 3:1-3; Matthew 5:1-12a

Homily by Abbot Lawrence

“Saints in Action.” That is one of the catchphrases used by the medical and support staff of the SSM, St. Anthony Hospital system in Oklahoma. “Saints in Action.” It’s a great catchphrase that goes well along with their mission statement: “Though our exceptional healthcare services we reveal the healing presence of God.” That’s probably one of the best mission statements out there. Over the last two weeks some of us at the Abbey have had an opportunity to reflect on those corporate mottos as we have accompanied our brother monk, Fr. Nicholas, during his current hospital stays at the St. Anthony Hospitals in Shawnee and Oklahoma City. From what I’ve observed, by and large the medical and support staff members have lived up to these statements, mission and vision.

On this particular All Saints Day, I am mindful that the phrase “Saints in Action” should be the catchphrase or vision statement for all of us who are Christian. After all, as St. John reminds us in the second reading, we are “children of God,” called to be saints – chosen for a fullness of life and holiness that we can barely to begin to imagine. In fact, the word “saints” is our English translation of how St. Paul often refers to all the baptized in several of his letters. St. Luke also uses this terminology to describe the members of the baptized in Christ in the Acts of the Apostles. We all are called to be saints of God.

Certainly, as we celebrate the great Solemnity of All Saints, we use the term “saints” in a more narrow sense. Today we recognize those who experienced sanctification through the grace of God in such a way that we believe they now enjoy the fullness of life in the Kingdom of Heaven. Some of these “saints” we recognize by name, and we even designate specific days during the year when we celebrate their memory. On this “All Saints Day” we celebrate also the no doubt far greater number who have passed from this life and now have the grace to experience the beatific vision of God. They make up part of the vast crowd that St. John saw in his vision of heaven: “a great multitude, which no one could count, from every nation, race, people, and tongue. They [stand] before the throne and before the Lamb, wearing white robes and holding palm branches in their hands.”

We should remember that this great, countless multitude had experiences in their lives not so different from what we experience. Oh, certainly, technologies have changed, populations have shifted, governments and empires have come and gone. And yet, we should not think that the fundamental joys and sufferings, opportunities and challenges, of our brothers and sisters in past ages were all that different from our own.

In some instances, the saints we celebrate today had advantages over us in trying to live according to the beatitudes that Jesus proclaims in our gospel today. But in other ways we have advantages toward living the beatitudes that our brothers and sisters in past ages could not have imagined. But our aspirational vision statement of what it means to be blessed is the same. Like the saints who lived in ages past, so also are we called to find our true riches and consolation in the grace of God. Like them, so also are we called to find satisfaction in our hunger and thirst for righteousness in the same Lord from whom previous generations found righteousness. Like them, so also are we called to show mercy to others, to be clean of heart, and to bring peace to our troubled world, and to bring peace to the hearts of those who are burdened with anxiety and fear. And, yes, like them, so also are we called to stand for the sake of what is right and just, to stand firm in our testimony to Jesus, even in the face of persecution, insults and slander. We are called to all of this just as were the generations of saints who have gone before us. After all, this is what it means to be “saints in action.” All of us are called to reveal the healing mercy of God.

My brothers and sisters, it is possible that do not feel up to the task and the calling to be “saints in action.” We know our weaknesses; we know our petty resentments; we know our fears; we know our willfulness; we know our own sinfulness. But then again, the saints who have gone before us no doubt also experienced all of this to one degree or another. Even so, they persevered, trusted in, turned to and cooperated with God’s grace to bring their own unique holiness and witness to the gospel into the action of their lives.

This is not what some would condemn as “salvation by works.” No. Rather, it is the type of openness to grace, and actions through grace, that God requires of us if we are to experience the fullness of life and sanctification that God calls us to in his merciful love. In the most explicit depiction of the Last Judgement in the gospels, found in Matthew 25, Jesus clearly indicates how saints are judged: “When I was hungry you fed me, when I was thirsty you gave me to drink, when I was a stranger you welcomed me, when I was naked you clothed me, when I was sick you cared for me, when I was imprisoned you visited me.” This is what it means to be “saints in action;” it is how we are to reveal the “healing presence of God.”

Yes, as the heavenly choir sings, “Salvation comes from our God, who is seated on the throne, and from the Lamb.” But Jesus calls us to live as his holy ones in this life, so that he will judge us worthy to add our voices to that eternal heavenly chorus of praise. When we were baptized we were clothed in a robe made white in the blood of that victorious Lamb of God. May we live in such a way that we will enter the Kingdom of Heaven clothed with that robe unstained by sin. Indeed, let us all be “saints in action,” so that one day our voices might join the heavenly chorus to sing without end: “Blessing and glory, wisdom and thanksgiving, honor, power, and might be to our God forever and ever. Amen.”

Mass for the National Day of Remembrance for Aborted Children

September 9, 2023 – St. Gregory’s Abbey

Homily from Abbot Lawrence

Readings: Colossians 1:12-20; John 1:1-5, 0-14, 16-18

From the very beginning of creation, the human person has possessed a particular dignity. Among all the good and wonderful marvels of creation – from the light that dispels darkness to the heavenly bodies that mark the passing of days, months and years, from the fertile land of valleys and mountains to the powerful ocean depths below and the expansive skies above, from the fruitful and colorful plants that provide food and shelter to the as yet unknown variety of living things both great and small, among all of these good and wonderful marvels of creation – the human person possesses a particular dignity. All human persons posses a particular dignity. This particular dignity arises from God’s generous act of creating human beings in His own divine image and likeness and breathing into this pinnacle of creation the very divine breath of life.

Even when our first parents turned away from the way of life that God had intended for them, when they sinned by attempting to seize for themselves the knowledge that only God can comprehend, Adam and Eve did not lose fully the core of their dignity as being created and sustained by the loving goodness of God. A spark of the divine remained.

Indeed, God so loved us human beings that in the fullness of time the very Word of God through whom all things were made, emptied himself of his divinity in order to embrace all that it means to be human so that we might be born again to an even greater dignity as the true children of God. As we just heard once again from the inspired opening of the Gospel of John:

the Word became flesh

and made his dwelling among us,

and we saw his glory,

the glory as of the Father’s only Son,

full of grace and truth.

This is why we gather this day in the grace of God to celebrate this Eucharist, this great thanksgiving, when we receive the truth of God’s word and the very Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, the Word of God become flesh for our salvation. Today we give thanks for God’s great gift of human life and the renewal of human dignity through the life, passion, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. In doing so, we affirm and recommit ourselves to giving honor to that gift of life in all of its stages, conditions and states of development. In particular, we remember those human persons who lost their life in the wombs of their mothers – especially those whose lives in this world were taken from them through procured abortion. We also pray for all those who were involved choosing this tragic action: the mothers and fathers, and those who either performed or promoted abortion as something normal and acceptable.

One could become discouraged in the face of the culture of death that finds acceptable the disposal of – the murder of – human life in its most vulnerable stages: in the womb, in handicapping conditions, in terminal illness or even in the stages of old age. It is the same culture of death that takes for granted that violent crime can be resolved through executions, or that sees almost as many massive shooting events as there are days of the year. As the Jewish psychologist Etty Hillesum wrote before her own death at the hands of Nazi Germany in the Auschwitz extermination camp: “When one group of persons is determined to be unworthy of human life, then all human life becomes arbitrary.” Yes, we easily could become discouraged in this age filled with such forces of darkness.

But we must not give-in to the darkness of the culture of death. As we also have heard again this morning from the Gospel of John:

What came to be through [the Word] was life,

and this life was the light of the human race;

the light shines in the darkness,

and the darkness has not overcome it.

Jesus Christ is the true light of life, and he has conquered the darkness of sin and death. What is more, as St. Paul reminds us in our first reading: God “delivered us from the power of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.”

Even as we treasure the memory of those millions of children whose hidden lives were killed in the womb, we also must treasure, cling to and live in the light of this truth: Jesus is “is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in all things he himself might be preeminent.” He also is “head of the body, the Church,” and has share with us his own life and mission in this world. Indeed, Jesus has made the Father known to us, and in accepting him, Jesus has given us “power to become children of God.” Jesus Christ has commissioned us to be “the light of the world,” and has told us: “your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father.” (Matthew 5:16)

We can let this light of truth and life shine in our world in many ways. Some of these ways are bold and dramatic, and some are more subtle and quiet. We can bring the light of truth and life into the world by sharing with others the peace and joy that we find in our faith, or we can bring the light of truth and life into our world by striving to change political structures and laws that preserve not life but the power of the culture of death. In this gathering, and in remembering those who died in the womb by placing wreathes on their graves, we show the world that the darkness of death has not overcome or extinguished the light of God’s truth and life.

My brothers and sisters in Christ, the Father has made us “fit to share in the inheritance of the holy ones in light.” We must never forget this dignity that is ours. Rather, we must open ourselves ever more completely to the light of life and truth that comes from God and be eager to do whatever we can to bring this light into the world!

Easter Vigil 2023: St. Gregory’s Abbey

Readings for Vigil of Easter: Genesis 1:1—2:2; Genesis 22:1-18; Exodus 14:15—15:1; Isaiah 54:5-14; Isaiah 55:1-11; Baruch 3:9-15, 32C4:48; Ezekiel 36:16-17a, 18-28; Romans 6:3-11; Matthew 28:1-10.

Homily from Abbot Lawrence

In recent years, pastors, pundits, prognosticators and even politicians have opined that we live in a “post-Christian” age. I never have understood fully what they mean by this phrase, but it seems clear that they hardly use the phrase to mean anything positive. Perhaps they use the phrase in reference to the sharp decline in church attendance across denominations in certain parts of the world – especially in Western Europe and North America. Perhaps some use the phrase to refer to a decrease in the amount of political influence that Christianity has in the world. Perhaps some actually use it to describe the relativism, materialism and secularism that Pope Benedict XVI referred to as the axis of evil in our age. Perhaps some use the phrase with other nuances of meaning in their speeches, sermons, articles and books.

To be honest, I never have been particularly fond of the phrase. I confess that the phrase frustrates me and I react to it with some sense of anger. To me, the phrase and the perspectives implied behind it are pessimistic and defeatist. Now, there clearly are very serious issues facing the Church in our time. In fact, we are experiencing one of the most aggressive and even violent persecutions of Christianity in history. We see active persecutions of the faith on every inhabited continent.

Some of these persecutions are overtly violent and plenty of martyrs are shedding their blood. Some of these persecutions are more subtle, springing up even in societies like our own that claim to be bastions of religious liberty. Perhaps the most dangerous persecutions are not from radical terror groups or hostile political leaders. These dangerous threats are present each time we encounter advertising and entertainments of all types, each selling products or promoting messages that are hostile to the Kingdom of God. Yes, Satan, the great father of lies and prince of this age, still prowls around like a roaring lion seeking someone to devour.

Nonetheless, the phrase “post-Christian age” seems to me to be – well – “unchristian.” To me, the phrase implies an attitude of defeat in the face of the forces of relativism, materialism and secularism that Pope Benedict warned of so frequently. The phrase seems to imply a spirit of pessimism that hardly can contribute in a positive way to the type of joy-filled zeal for evangelization that Pope Francis calls us to bring even to those who live on the margins of Church and society. The phrase seems to forget the promise that Jesus made to the Apostles that the very gates of the netherworld would not withstand the power of the Church.

This night we celebrate the reason why we should banish the phrase “post-Christian age” from our vocabulary. This night we celebrate the victory of Jesus Christ over the gates of the netherworld, his successful siege against the forces of sin, and his triumph of the fortress of death itself. Remember the powerful proclamation that began our vigil tonight: “Exult, let them exult, the hosts of heaven, exult, let Angel ministers of God exult, let the trumpet of salvation sound aloud our mighty King’s triumph! … This is the night, when Christ broke the prison-bars of death and rose victorious from the underworld!... The sanctifying power of this night dispels wickedness, washes faults away, restores innocence to the fallen, and joy to mourners.”

Yes, this night we greet the great day of salvation when Jesus Christ rose triumphant from the dead. Death no longer has power over him, and in him death no longer holds ultimate power over humanity and the universe itself! Even if the Church has suffered over the centuries and into our own age because of persecutions from without and scandals from within, the reality of the resurrection of Jesus Christ has not diminished. We still live in a Christian age not because of any triumph or power that the Church might possess, but because Jesus Christ still is risen from the dead and still offers his life to those who believe in him.

Tonight, we again have listed to the story of God’s plan for salvation, beginning from the first instant of creation, moving through the stories of the faith of Abraham and of the liberation of his descendants from Egypt through the waters of the Red Sea, to the promises spoken by the prophets, to the fulfillment of the Word of God in Jesus as he rises victorious from the tomb. We see also that the story of the fulfillment of God’s promises in Jesus Christ continues to unfold. Indeed, the fulfillment of God’s promises continues to unfold in and through us.

My brothers and sisters, we have received new life in Christ through the waters of baptism and the gift of his Body and Blood. As St. Paul reminds us, “We were indeed buried with him through baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live in newness of life.” If we live in Christ, how dare we say that we live in a post-Christian age?

In just a few moments we will have the opportunity to renew our baptismal promises, to renounce sin, to live in the freedom of the children of God, and to reject Satan the author and prince of sin. As we do so, let us recall that we have received in Christ the light of faith, the light of truth and the light of life. We have received this light not only so that we will share in his resurrection, but also so that we can bring his light to the world that still knows too much of the darkness of sin and the shadow of death. Tonight, we must cast off the spirit of discouragement and defeat that would have us lament the fall of Christianity, so that filled with the very power of Christ we may commit ourselves with renewed vigor to embody the reign of Christ the true King. We must make the words and faith of St. Paul our own: “We know that Christ, raised from the dead, dies no more; death no longer has power over him…. Consequently, we must think of ourselves as being dead to sin and living for God in Christ Jesus.” To him be glory, now and forever! Amen! Alleluia!

Good Friday – 2023: St. Gregory’s Abbey

Readings: Isaiah 52:13-53:12; Psalm 31:2, 6, 12-13, 15-16, 17, 25; Hebrews 4:14-16; 5:7-9; John 18:1—19:42

Homily from Abbot Lawrence

When Jesus delivers the teaching that we have come to know as the “Sermon on the Mount” in the Gospel of Matthew, he makes a rather startling and seemingly impossible demand. After teaching his would-be followers not to give into the temptation to retaliate against those who have done harm to us, to forgive from the heart those who persecute us, and to love and pray for our enemies, Jesus tells us: “So be perfect, just as your heavenly Father is perfect.” (MT 5:38) How can Jesus call us to what seems to be an obviously impossible task? How can we be as ‘perfect’ as the Father? As in all his teachings and commands, Jesus shows us the way to such perfection. Indeed, he is the way!

In our second reading today, the author of the Letter to the Hebrews writes: “Son though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered; and when he was made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him.” (Heb 5:9) The path through which Jesus came to perfection was obedience – attentively listening to and lovingly following the will of the Father. Throughout his life Jesus repeated over and again that he came into the world not to do his own will, but to do that of the Father. And as he says in the Gospel of John, “For this is the will of my Father, that everyone who sees the Son and believes in him may have eternal life, and I shall raise him [on] the last day.” (JN 6:40)

Jesus knew that accomplishing the will of the Father would not be easy. He knew that he would be misunderstood and that he would suffer. So intense was his anticipation of what the path of loving obedience would involve, Jesus prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane: “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet, not as I will, but as you will.” (MT 26:39) A second time he prayed: “My Father, if it is not possible that this cup pass without my drinking it, your will be done!” (MT 26:42) He even prayed in this way a third time before he was arrested. Through all that followed, Jesus remained faithful in his desire to accomplish the will of the Father, testifying to the truth of the Kingdom of God, praying for those who betrayed and beat him, and trusting in the love of the Father, until that final moment when he knew all was complete in perfect love. At that moment he said: “It is finished.” (JN 19:30)

For Jesus, to accomplish the will of the Father was enough. In fact, for Jesus this to be the only accomplishment of lasting value. Tempted by the same empty and temporary comforts, celebrity or power that Satan places before us each day, Jesus knew that the will of the Father far surpasses all of the empty promises made by the prince of this world. The depth of his conviction of this was fully, perfectly, measured and expressed in the suffering he endured because of his obedience. As the 2^nd letter to the Philippians beautifully expresses: “Because of this, God greatly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, of those in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” (Phil 2:9-11)

This, my brothers and sisters, is also how we also are “to be perfect, even as the Father is perfect.” As St. Paul writes, our “attitude must be that of Christ Jesus.” (Phil 2:5) St. Benedict tells us monks as much at the very opening of the Rule we have vowed to follow: “The labor of obedience will bring you back to him from whom you had drifted through the sloth of disobedience. This message of mine is for you, then, if you are ready to give up your own will, once and for all, and armed with the strong and noble weapons of obedience to do battle for the true King, Christ the Lord.”

Properly understood and lived, obedience is the most challenging of all the vows that a Christian can make – whether in the context of monastic life, holy matrimony, sacred orders or the renewed commitment to the promises of baptism. True obedience is far more than mere compliance with what is asked or demanded, far more than a desire to do as one is told to avoid conflict, inconvenience or punishment. In its perfect expression, obedience is a gift freely given without expectation or demand of reward or praise. Giving up our own shortsighted and selfish will involves a battle. And yet, the more we give ourselves in humility to the will of God through trusting and loving obedience in imitation of Jesus, the more we will be liberated from slavery to sin and to what St. Benedict calls “gross wills and appetites.”

To be perfect like our heavenly Father is perfect might seem impossible. The rich young man in the Gospel of Matthew must have thought so as he walked away sad when Jesus told him he could be perfect if he would give away all that he possessed and become a disciple. (MT 19:21) In fact, as Jesus then remarks to St. Peter, for us human beings such perfection is impossible. But, as he goes on to add, for God all things are possible! (MT 19:26) That is what Jesus does for us today when he is made perfect by what he suffers. Jesus, the Son of God and the Son of Mary, has done what is impossible for us so that through, with him and in him we might do the same. As the prophet Isaiah foresaw: “it was our infirmities that he bore, / our sufferings that he endured, / …upon him was the chastisement that makes us whole, / by his stripes we were healed. / …he [gave] his life as an offering for sin, / … and the will of the Lord shall be accomplished through him.” (IS 53:5, 10) To God be the glory, now and forever! Amen!

Holy Thursday – Evening Mass of the Lord’s Supper, 2023

St. Gregory’s Abbey

Readings: Ex 12:1-8, 11-14; Ps 116:12-13, 15-16bc, 17-18.; 1 Cor 11:23-26; Jn 13:1-15

Homily from Abbot Lawrence

“This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me…. This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.” This night, St. Paul reminds us of what he also received: he reminds us of the great and everlasting covenant of love that Jesus gives us on this night. This covenant, in his own blood, far surpasses all the covenants between God and the People of God ratified through the blood of animals offered in sacrifice. In doing so, St. Paul also reminds us that Jesus calls us to receive his body and to drink from the cup of the new covenant in remembrance of him. We should ask what it means to drink of this cup he offers through his own Passover sacrifice and liberation.

While he was making the journey to Jerusalem for his final Passover, Jesus predicted his passion no less than three times to his apostles. The gospels of Mark and Matthew tell us that after the third of these predictions, the apostles James and John made a bold request of Jesus: they asked to sit at his right and his left when he should come into his kingdom. Jesus does not respond with a promise of special honors or positions of prestige. Rather he responds with a question: “Can you drink the cup that I am going to drink?” (MT 20:22; MK 10:38) Without hesitation they answer immediately, “We can.” In doing so they not only did not know what they were asking of him, they also did not know fully what they were promising. In response, Jesus tells them that they would indeed drink of the cup from which he was about to drink.

Later, when he celebrates the Passover with the apostles on the eve of his passion and death, Jesus reveals the full meaning of the cup of which he is to drink – and of which his apostles and disciples must drink as well. It is the cup that is the new covenant in his blood shed for the forgiveness of sin, in his blood shed for the salvation of the world. It is the cup of complete humility and self-giving love, even when the price of such love is betrayal, rejection, unjust condemnation, suffering and death itself. When he hands the cup to his apostles, he invites them to partake of that sacrificial offering, to have their own share in it, to become one with him in this great covenant of love. He extends the same invitation to us as well – inviting us to be united in him as he pours himself out in the new and everlasting covenant in his love.

But how are we to do this? How are we to be united to him, and through him to one another in this cup? Jesus shows us how on this sacred night. Jesus, whose name is to be exulted above all names, clothes himself in humility and stoops down to wash the feet of his disciples. He who is rightly called “teacher” and “master” takes on the role of a slave. Jesus even washes the feet of Judas, who will betray him, and the feet of Peter, who will deny knowing him. He tells us in no uncertain terms that we must follow his example.

If like James and John we wish to take our own place alongside Jesus in his glorious kingdom, then we must follow the example he gives us. We must not be afraid to act as humble servants of others. We must not be afraid to risk ridicule and misunderstanding. We must not be afraid to soil our hands to give of ourselves generously – even for those who would betray or deny us. In fact, Jesus gives us not only his example of humble service to follow. This night Jesus gives us a new commandment: “Love one another as I have loved you.” (JN 13:34-35)

On the eve of the exodus of the Israelites from slavery and death in Egypt to freedom and life, this enslaved people had to show their willingness to follow God publicly by marking the doors of their homes with the blood of an unblemished lamb which they sacrificed and consumed that night. They had to identify themselves with the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob – the one true God – through a courageous action and testimony for all to see, including their persecutors. On this night, Jesus calls all who would share in the liberation that he offers also to do something courageous: to give of themselves in love and be ready to share in his suffering as a result. And as the flesh of the Passover lamb gave strength to the Israelites to make their escape from Egypt, so also Jesus gives us his own flesh as nourishing and saving food to enable us to make our escape from sin and deliverance from death.

My dear confreres and friends, this night Jesus establishes the source and the highest expression of our faith, of our very life in him: the covenant of love ratified in the gift of his very body and blood for the forgiveness of sin and the salvation of the world. Jesus is the new and everlasting covenant that can never be surpassed and for which there is no substitute. Jesus is the priest, the altar and the perfect sacrificial offering of praise. Jesus has invited us to remain united with in and with one another in this perfect sacrifice of praise that is the Eucharist. And as we soon will witness, Jesus has shown us how we are to remain in him and through him to know the fullness of glory in the Father: we are to love one another even as he loved us. If we do this in faith, then like St. Paul we will continue to hand on to others what we ourselves have received, for the glory of God the Father and the salvation of the world!

Palm Sunday / Passion Sunday 2023 – St. Gregory’s Abbey

Readings: Matthew 21:1-11; Isaiah 50:4-7; Psalm 22: 8-9, 17-18, 19-20, 23-24; Philippians 2:6-11; Matthew 26:14-27:66

Homily from Abbot Lawrence Stasyszen, OSB

My confreres, and brothers and sisters in Christ, we now have entered into the most sacred time of our year – Holy Week – when we not only solemnly commemorate the final days in the life and ministry of Jesus, but also and more importantly enter into the transforming reality of those days in our own lives. These are not only the days that mark the high point of the liturgical year of the Church, but also the days that are the high point of our very existence – when our Lord Jesus Christ embraces all that it means to be human and offers it in love to the Father. In doing so he points to the way for us to follow and gives us the graces we need to do so. It is in these days that the font of baptismal waters will be opened, the waters through which we have passed with Jesus – entering into his death so that we also can rise with him to new life.

On this Palm Sunday of the Passion of our Lord, we are witnesses to the pivotal moments that will unfold in this week, beginning with the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem as the king riding in humility on a donkey. Today we join with the crowds on the road to greet him with the acclamation of Hosanna to the Son of David, an acclamation that Fr. Simeon shared with me yesterday means “Save us, Lord, we pray!”

Today we witness his final meal with his apostles, in which Jesus establishes the new covenant in his own blood offered for the forgiveness of sins. Today we hear Jesus call to the Father from the depths of his agony in the garden of Gethsemane, then hear his loving submission to the will of the Father no matter what it might bring to him. Today we witness the jealousy and corruption of religious and political leaders, who stir up the passion of the crowd so that they would appear to be doing the will of the people as they condemn, torture and kill an innocent man. Today we hear the crowd no longer crying out “Hosanna” but rather “Crucify him, crucify him. Give us the criminal Barabbas instead.” Today we hear the cries of mockery and ridicule from the soldiers, the synagogue officials and even casual passers-by they the further dehumanize and taunt Jesus.

Near the end of the gospel, we also hear Jesus as he cries out in a loud voice: “Eli, Eli lama sabachthani.” Those who heard this at first were confused and thought that he is calling upon Elijah to save him. In reality, Jesus is calling out to the Father in the words of the psalm we used as a response to the first reading, a psalm he knew so well – “My God, my God why have you forsaken me.” And while this psalm begins with a cry out of the depths of darkness that verges on despair, the psalm ends as a profession of trust in God and with words in praise of God’s fidelity.

Then we hear Jesus cry out once more, but this time without words. St. Matthew tells us: “Jesus cried out again in a loud voice, and gave up his spirit.” This wordless cry causes me to pause today. In this moment, in a way that no word can adequately express, Jesus summons from the depth of his very being the cries of all humanity: cries welling up from the suffering brought about by sin, cries welling up from those who suffer from injustice, abandonment, hatred, betrayal and loss of every kind, cries welling up from grief in the face of death, cries welling up in the “hopes and fears of all the years” that met in that little town of Bethlehem where the infant Jesus took cried with the first breaths of his life in union with our frail and limited humanity. After those first cries of life, Jesus was entrusted to the care of Joseph of Nazareth, who wrapped him swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger where animals were fed. After his final cry in life, the broken body of Jesus is entrusted to another Joseph, Joseph of Arimathea, who wraps his body in swaddling clothes of death, and lays him in a tomb hewn from rock – a tomb that was not even meant for him – the one who is the author of life.

As we heard in our second reading, though Jesus was in the form of God, he did not cling to that divinity, but rather emptied himself in love and was known in our human estate, born in the very flesh of our humanity enslaved to sin. And with this our humanity, Jesus emptied himself completely to the will of the Father in loving obedience so that we might be saved through him, even when this led to his suffering and death on the cross. And when he endured buffets, spitting and blows to his back, he did not rebel. Rather he knew that God was his help. He knew that he would not be disgraced. He endured what he did because he trusted in the promises of the Father. He set his face like flint in the confidence that he would not be put to shame.

Today we do well to acknowledge that with our own sinfulness we join our own voices to the voices of the fickle crowd so easily swayed from calling out “Hosanna” to shouting out “Crucify him.” We easily move from times when we ask Jesus to save us, to moments when we close our ears to the voice of Jesus when he calls us to follow him or to treat one another with the love that he has shown to us. Even so, we also do well today to remember that Jesus none the less has cried out on our behalf, enduring – even embracing – the taunts, the buffets and spitting, and death itself so that we might be healed of the wounds of sin that afflict us. We must cling to this knowledge and not despair when we recognize and acknowledge that we remain sinners, prone to the same weakness of the apostles who could not keep watch with Jesus in the garden and in fear fled from his side. Seeing the love that Jesus has for us, in this Holy Week we must listen for his voice pleading to us and for us. This week we must hear his words that will rouse us with hope: words that will raise us to life.

Ash Wednesday, February 22, 2023 – St. Gregory’s Abbey

Readings: Joel 2:12-18; Psalm 51:3-4, 5-6ab, 12-13, 14, 17; 2 Cor 5:20 – 6:2; Matthew 6:1-6, 16-18

Homily from Abbot Lawrence

It is easy for us to procrastinate about all sorts of things, to “put off for tomorrow” those things that we could do today. Perhaps there are tasks that we can put off doing without serious consequences. There are many more tasks and duties, however, that we put off at risk of harm to ourselves and others. At the very least, when we put off addressing issues or accomplishing tasks, we risk creating a snowball effect, putting off more and more issues until yet another tomorrow so that we become overwhelmed and maybe even give up. We can collapse under the weight of what needs to be done, under the burden of accumulated responsibilities and under the regret about missed opportunities that will never come again. Among these missed opportunities are the opportunities to repair a damaged relationship, to correct a misunderstanding, to reach out to someone in need, to ask a parent or elder about events in the past, or to tell others how much we love them. In reality, we have a limited amount of time in this life; there is not an endless number of tomorrows to allow us to delay all the important tasks, responsibilities and opportunities that are part of our lives. This is something we would do well to keep in mind and take to heart as we enter today into the season of Lent.

“Even now, says the Lord, return to me with your whole heart, with fasting, and weeping, and mourning.” These stirring words of the prophet Joel come to us as the opening words of our first reading from the Word of God today. “Even now… return to me with your whole heart.” God tells us through the prophet that it is not too late for us to repair our relationship with God, to set aside the accumulated burden of sin that we have collected through the days, weeks and perhaps even years gone by. It is not too late for any of us to experience the joy of being in a right relationship with God and through God to be in a right relationship with those whom we encounter in our lives. As the prophet goes on to write: “For gracious and merciful is the Lord, slow to anger, rich in kindness, and relenting in punishment. Perhaps the Lord will again relent and leave behind him a blessing.”

St. Paul also speaks to us today with a sense of urgency. Referring to our need to respond to the grace of God with a sense of urgency he writes: “Behold, now is a very acceptable time; behold now is the day of salvation.” If we desire to experience life in the Kingdom of God more fully, then we need not, we should not, we must not, wait for another day. Today is the day that we have; this is the hour of opportunity in which we can act. We need not listen to the voice of the evil one who would tell us that we have all the time in the world to repent, or who would tell us that it is already too late for us to be cleansed, healed, strengthened and changed by God’s own divine life. Rather, today, in this moment, we can heed the voice of the Lord calling us to reconciliation, to peace, to peace, to joy and into eternal life itself.

Although today is not a holy day of obligation, it is a day of special graces that the Church gives to inspire and to strengthen us in our desire and our need to be transformed by the grace of God. Today, sinners all, we know that we stand together in acknowledging our sinfulness. But that is not all. Today, we sinners also stand together with our hearts opened to the merciful love of God. Today the Church blows the trumpet, proclaims a fast, and gathers all the people, the entire congregation – from elders to infants at the breast, from bridegroom and bride to priest and minister. Today we stand in solidarity to return to the Lord not only as weak individuals lacking in motivation, but as the People of God united in faith and with renewed fervor.

Today we help one another to turn to God in prayer, to remove from our lives distractions and to discipline our appetites, and to extend to others the love of Christ through acts of generosity and charity. Today we also recommit to our shared calling to be ambassadors of Christ, spreading the gospel of reconciliation and life in a world weighed down by sin and empty promises. Let us not harden our hearts today and delay in our response of eager faith in God’s mercy. To use the words of St. Benedict, “our life span has been lengthened by way of a truce, that we may amend our misdeeds. … If we wish to reach eternal life, even as we avoid the torments of hell, then – while there is still time, while we are in this body and have time to accomplish all these things by the light of life – we must run and do now what will profit us forever.”

6th Sunday in Ordinary Time, B – February 12, 2023

St. Gregory’s Abbey

Homily from Abbot Lawrence

Readings: Sirach 15:15-20; Psalm 119:1-2, 4-5, 17-18, 33-34; 1 Corinthians 2:6-10; Matthew 5:17-37

We hear a great deal about “choice” in our culture. At times it seems that the concept of “choice” is the idol of the day. We hear slogans like “my body, my choice,” which of course ignores the unborn child who cannot yet choose for itself. We hear of folks choosing their gender and demanding that others use their personally chosen acceptable pronouns. Along that line, two days ago I heard an interview with a couple who did not “assign” a gender to their baby at its birth. They admittedly recognized the physical characteristics that would be associated with a particular gender, but they did not want to tread on the right for the baby to eventually choose its own gender! We also claim the ability to choose whether to acknowledge as true otherwise objective facts about events in history or current day. Even national leaders from both dominant parties claim this.

I am now going to say something that might sound shocking at first. God is all for our ability to choose. In fact, it is God who gave us the ability to choose in the first place! But God is also for something else: God is for our need to recognize that the choices we make have consequences. God is all for our need to take responsibility for our choices and their consequences. As we heard in our first reading today from the book of Sirach: “Before man are life and death, good and evil, whichever he chooses shall be given him…. No one does [God] command to act unjustly, to none does he give license to sin.” The gift and burden of God-given free will is evident from the dawn of human history. In fact, our freedom, ability and responsibility to choose to do what is life-giving is central to what makes us “like God” – it is how God made us.

Sadly, as we read in chapter three of Genesis, our first parents did not use this God-given gift to choose what was life-giving. They freely chose to grasp for themselves and to consume the one thing that would bring them suffering, conflict and even death itself. They consumed the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil because it appeared to be “good for food and was pleasing to the eye,” but they did not consider the evil that it would bring into their lives. They ignored God’s warning that the fruit of the tree would bring them death. They chose to believe in the great lie of the clever serpent. Their misguided use of free choice had deadly consequences not only for themselves, but for all of humanity down to our own day. We also read in Genesis that they would not take responsibility for their abuse of free will: Adam blamed Eve, Eve blamed the serpent, and they all blamed God. If this dynamic of hiding and then avoiding responsibility by trying to shift the blame to others sounds familiar, it is because we see it play out almost every day of our lives.

But God has never given up completely on humanity, the very summit of creation. Thanks be to God! God continuously has sought to help us to choose what is truly good: the fruit of life-giving love. That is why God formed a people to be His own; that is why God gave that Chosen People the Law; that is why God gave all of humanity the ultimate gift of his Son: so that we might know what is truly good, what is the fruit of life-giving love, what is the gift of grace of eternal life. In fact, God respects us enough to leave the choice of receiving these gifts to us. As we heard in the first reading: “If you choose you can keep the commandments, they will save you; if you trust in God, you too shall live.” (Sir 15:15)

It is true that making the right and life-giving choices can be really difficult. It can be hard to choose what will make us truly happy rather than give-into what brings only a temporary satisfaction of unhealthy desires. Often, we are like the three-year-old child who sees the racks of candy at the check-out counter in a store and throws a tantrum because its loving parent wisely tells the child “no” because it already has plenty of candy at home. Like that child, we can scream in a fit of rage at the seemingly unfair commands of our loving Father because we fail to see that we have more than enough of what we truly need is waiting for us at our home in the Kingdom of God. However, to repeat the first reading: if we but trust in God, we too shall live.

Some would have us water down the demands of the Law of God’s love by watering down the demands of what it means to be a follower of Jesus. They would say that Jesus was all about setting aside the uncomfortable demands of the law of God. However, the words we hear from the Lord himself today would correct us from that way of thinking. He states very plainly: “Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets. I have come not to abolish but to fulfill. … Therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do so will be called least in the kingdom of heaven. But whoever obeys and teaches these commandments will be called greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” (MT 5:17-19)

In fact, Jesus calls his followers to go beyond the superficial demands of the Law that the Scribes and Pharisees were so careful to observe. As we heard in the gospel today and will continue to hear next Sunday, Jesus tells us that not only must our external actions conform to the life-giving precepts of divine law, but even our interior dispositions, motivations and attitudes must conform to God’s precepts. Jesus calls us to rid ourselves of patterns of anger, ridicule and disrespect in the way we treat others – even those who are different from ourselves or who treat us with contempt. Jesus calls us to look to the true nature of marriage as a sacred covenant of self-giving love between a man and a woman. He calls us to see that the fertile beauty of sexual identity is not subject to the changing fads of a culture that has lost sight of Natural Law. Jesus calls us to honesty in our dealings with others and with ourselves. Jesus calls us to remove from our lives ways of thinking, attachments, and patterns of behavior that are damaging to our dignity – no matter how attached or addicted to them we might be.

And when we fight to preserve the sacred dignity of human life, Jesus calls us to treat those who are in crisis pregnancies with respect and love, supporting them in every way that we can – especially if they already have been subjected to the violence of rape or incest. In the same way, Jesus calls us to treat with respect and honesty those who are suffering from gender dysphoria, helping them to find the type of spiritual support and therapeutic assistance that can help them to find the true source of their identity, dignity and peace.

This is not a message that you will find in the extreme patterns of rhetoric that we find in our society that spews from the talking heads of pundits or political leaders, or from the questionable rationality of many so-called influencers on YouTube or TikTok. As St. Paul wrote centuries ago: “We speak a wisdom to those who are mature, not a wisdom of this age, nor of the rulers of this age who are passing away. Rather, we speak of God's wisdom, mysterious, hidden, which God predetermined before the ages for our glory, and which none of the rulers of this age knew.” (1 Cor 2:6-8a) If one needs proof that the wisdom of God is life-giving, we need only take a careful and honest look at the long course of history to see what produces the greatest and long lasting positive effects in our world and for our shared humanity: the choices called for by the Word of God, or the choices that are promoted by fads and fanatics that quickly pass away.

Yes, we have the freedom to make many choices in our lives. But our ability to choose does not make what we choose right. We can make foolish choices and in so doing set into motion a chain of suffering and death not only for ourselves but also for others. To repeat, our true dignity is not in what we choose, but rather in our God-given ability to choose what is good, and beautiful and true. If we find it hard to do so, then we can be encouraged by those words of Sirach: “If you choose you can keep the commandments, they will save you; if you trust in God, you too shall live.” Indeed, as we go forth from this Eucharist, we can and must choose to make our own the words of the responsorial psalm: “Blessed are they whose way is blameless, / who walk in the law of the LORD. / Blessed are they who observe his decrees, / who seek him with all their heart.” And we can continue to pray: “Instruct me, O LORD, in the way of your statutes, / that I may exactly observe them. / Give me discernment, that I may observe your law / and keep it with all my heart.”

Christmas Mass During the Night – 2022

St. Gregory’s Abbey – Shawnee, Oklahoma

Homily from Abbot Lawrence

Readings: Isaiah 9:1-6; Psalm 96:1-2, 2-3, 11-12, 13; Titus 2:11-14; Luke 2:1-14

Once again this year half of the Lady Chapel here in the Abbey Church has been transformed into a detailed diorama of the “little town of Bethlehem,” a town so small that the prophet Micah described it as being “least among the clans of Judah” Of course the same prophet Micah goes on to say of Bethlehem: “From you shall come forth for me / one who is to be ruler in Israel; / Whose origin is from of old, / from ancient times.” (Micah 5:1) This, my brothers and sisters, is what we celebrate with great joy this night – the fulfillment of the prophecy of Micah, as well as the prophecy of Isaiah who looked to this day when, “the people who walked in darkness / have seen a great light; / upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom / a light has shone…. For a child is born to us, a son is given us; upon his shoulder dominion rests.” This is the good news proclaimed first to the anonymous shepherds in the dark of the night, and now also to us this night: “Do not be afraid; for behold I proclaim to you good news of great joy / that will be for all the people. / For today in the city of David / a savior has been born for you who is Christ and Lord.”

We can be grateful to our dear Fr. Joachim of happy memory who several years ago began to collect the many small figurines and structures and carefully brought them together in the side chapel for monks and visitors of all ages to enjoy and contemplate. This is our first Christmas without him with us, and we do miss him – especially in this Christmas season which he loved so much! We simply had to reassemble this beautiful Nativity collection in his memory as a way of honoring our Lord. Br. Peter no doubt was grateful to have had a photographic record to help in the process.

After we posted on social media that the Nativity Scene once again was on display, we received a good number of postings expressing fond remembrances of Fr. Joachim, and comments on how the display has been a source of inspiration for many. There indeed are as many elements to contemplate in the scene as there are figurines. It is an example of how art can bring the scriptures to life for us, which was the intention that St. Francis had when he created the first “nativity scene” in a cave near the small village of Greccio in Italy in 1223.

First of all, we can think of how it took several years for Fr. Joachim to collect these many figurines for the monastery, and that it takes several hours each year to unpack, organize and arrange the many figures in time for Christmas. This might lead us to reflect on how long God took to prepare for the birth of Jesus in the stable at Bethlehem. We heard this solemnly recalled in the Roman martyrology at the beginning of Mass this evening: the millennia that passed from God’s promise of salvation after the first sin of Adam and Eve, to the call of Abraham and Sarah to give birth to a new nation that would be the source of salvation for all peoples, to the establishment of the House of David the King, through times when the nation was unfaithful and experienced exile, down to the time of Caesar Augustus, Herod the King, Joseph the Righteous Man and Mary the Sinless Virgin of Nazareth. Yes, God took the fullness of time to assemble just the right pieces in just the right places to be ready for the birth of our Savior.

Secondly, when we look at the display, we see all kinds of folks brought together in the hardship of the census. We see persons of all ages, folks of various occupations from different places, good natured folks as well as folks who would take advantage of weary and unsuspecting travelers. From this we can reflect on how God sent his Son into the world to bring all peoples into the peace of God’s Kingdom. Jesus came not just for the righteous and the powerful, but for the poor and the marginalized, for the weak and the humble, for the good natured and for sinners and those who cause hardship for others.

Thirdly, we can draw close to the ordinary humanity of Jesus, Mary and Joseph by seeing the ordinary humanity of others around them. For example, one of my favorite figurines depicts a woman who is obviously very pregnant. She is pausing to stretch her aching back. She can remind us of the difficulties facing Mary as she also had to travel far from her home as she was about to give birth. We might also wonder if the anonymous woman’s so-to-be-born child would be caught up in the murderous rampage of Herod and his soldiers. That in turn reminds us of Joseph’s faith and courage as he led Mary and the baby Jesus into the refuge of exile in Egypt.

This Nativity Scene shows us how the miraculous birth of Jesus took place in the middle of a whirlwind of activity around the lowly stable. We can ponder how the birth of Jesus likely went unnoticed by most of the people in Bethlehem that night. While the shepherds were led to the stable by the chorus of angels, most of the people in Bethlehem likely did not know what was happening in their midst even as they might have marveled at the great sign of a brilliant new star in the sky.

Yes, this wonderful depiction of the nativity of our Lord can lead us to marvel at the birth of our Savior in Bethlehem long ago. But it also can lead us to reflect how God continues to be with us even today in our own lives. God still comes to us patiently, guiding our lives with grace so that we might come to know the gift of salvation that Jesus comes to bring. Jesus continues to come to save all peoples of all nations, ages and backgrounds, including those who might seem to us as being beyond hope. Jesus comes to us in ordinary circumstances of daily life, and Jesus will be a refuge for us even in the most difficult of circumstances, even in times of persecution. Finally, the busy Nativity Scene also reminds us that we need to be attentive and watchful so that we will recognize the Lord when he comes into our lives.

Just as was the case in the days when Jesus was born, tonight we know that not all aspects of Isaiah’s prophecy have been completely fulfilled. Sadly, in many parts of the world there remain cloaks stained with blood and boots trampling in battle. There remain all too many people who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death. There remain all too many who greedily divide the spoils taken from the poor and the powerless. And there remains all too much injustice in our world. This is all true.

Even so, the Incarnation of the Wonder-Counselor, God-hero, Father-forever and Prince of Peace is no less real. Salvation has come into our world with the Incarnation and Birth of the Son of God, Jesus Christ, the Messiah. It is a mystery that continues to unfold. And even though there remains much too be done to bring the Kingdom of God to its full potential, there is now “peace on earth for those on whom the favor of God rests.”

My brothers and sisters, God’s favor rests on us! We have been granted the gift of faith and rebirth in the waters of baptism. We have received the Word of God-made-flesh. And as St. Paul writes in our second reading, God has trained us “to reject godless ways and worldly desires and to live temperately, justly and devoutly in this age, as we await the blessed hope, the appearance of the glory of our great God and savior Jesus Christ.” We must be “eager to do what is good,” and bring the peace of the Prince of Peace to those near us, and to those who are far away. This is our task; this is our dignity! We must make our own the words that the angel spoke to the shepherds this night – and we must share them with everyone we meet: “I proclaim to you news of great joy: today a Savior is born for us, Christ the Lord!”

Funeral for Fr. Patrick McCool, O.S.B. (30 July 1939 – 15 December 2022)

Homily by Abbot Lawrence

Job 19:1, 23-27a; Romans 8:14-23; John 12:23-28

Those who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you received a spirit of adoption, through which we cry, "Abba, Father!" The Spirit itself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ, if only we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him. (Romans 8:14-17)

Adoption is a beautiful thing! For various reasons, parents choose through adoption to embrace as their own a child. They make the sacrifices needed to give the child a stable family, shelter, food, clothing, education and often knowledge of God and the dignity that is theirs through God. In turn, the adopted child gives to the parents and family the gift of all that they are and represent – their love, talents, challenges, and life itself. Having many nephews and nieces who have come into my family through adoption, I for one can testify that the bonds between those who come into the family by birth or adoption are the same – there is no distinction.

How beautiful it is, then, that St. Paul uses the image of adoption to describe the mysterious bond between God and those who are reborn to new life in Jesus Christ through the waters of baptism. In the passage from the letter to the Romans that we have just heard, St. Paul affirms that we have been chosen by God in Jesus Christ and that the Father now looks upon us as he does the only begotten Son of God, Jesus, whose birth we soon will celebrate in the great feast of Christmas. Through Jesus, we have been saved from the isolating slavery of fear, sin and death, so that we now can call out to God with the trust of a beloved child “Abba, Father.” And as God’s beloved children, now ours is the great inheritance of the Kingdom of God.

Today we entrust to the mercy of the Lord a beloved child of God, our adopted brother, Fr. Patrick McCool, O.S.B., monk of St. Gregory’s Abbey. Father Patrick’s life is a profound testimony to the grace of being “chosen” by God in Jesus Christ, of being chosen by the Church, of being chosen by loving parents and being chosen by a monastic community of consecrated life.

To be honest, the exact circumstances of Fr. Patrick’s birth on July 30, 1936, are not clear. We do know that his mother chose life for him, and for that reason we should pray for her still. After his birth, Fr. Patrick was embraced and adopted by the Church. He was entrusted to the care of St. Anthony’s Infant Home in Kansas City where he was baptized into new life on October 21, 1936. Eventually, he came under the care of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Wichita at St. Joseph’s Home for Infants and Children in El Dorado, Kansas. There young David McCool received his initial education and faith formation until around the age of 13.

At that time, he was chosen by James and Elsie McCool to be their son, and together they formed a close and loving family bond. With the desire to provide him with a solid education, the McCools sent their son to Oklahoma to attend St. Gregory’s High School under the care and formation of the monastic community that he eventually would petition to join after having completed two years of college. In turn, the monks of St. Gregory’s Abbey chose to accept him, embracing him as a adopted Son of St. Benedict, an identity that he would faithfully maintain for the rest of his life. And so, we can say that throughout his life Fr. Patrick was chosen and adopted. In this he enjoyed great blessings in this life so that he might prepare for eternal life in the Kingdom of Heaven.

Fr. Patrick neither squandered nor hoarded for himself the gifts he received through the Church, his parents and his monastic community. Rather, he spent most of his life trying to share his gifts with others – his gifts of filial and fraternal love, his gifts of intelligence and physical health, his gifts as a mentor and teacher, and the gift of his share in the priesthood of Jesus Christ.

Within our monastic community, Fr. Patrick was shared his gifts through his witness and contributions to our communal search for union with God through a life of prayer and work. He accepted assignments willingly and did his best to fulfill them. Along with the regular responsibilities in the liturgy and day-to-day fraternal life, he also contributed to the life of the community in roles of leadership, including for many years as the Prior and frequently on the Senior Council – both of which involved taking minutes for many meetings, an important but often thankless task. Yes, at times he could become a little grumpy and gruff, and had other shortcomings and idiosyncrasies, but he also was concerned for his confreres, and would express his concern and support in a variety of ways to encourage those of us who lived alongside him.

Fr. Patrick gave of himself in his commitment to our communal work and ministry of education. Some of his work in this area could be both challenging and monotonous, but also was very rewarding. Later in life he would say that his sleep cycle was forever changed by his years as a Residence Hall Advisor, when he had to live the nocturnal life of a typical college student. And while he had to be a disciplinarian in that role, he also cared for those under his charge with compassion and patience when it was required. Since his death, numerous alumni have recalled the positive impact he had on their lives, mentoring them and helping them to become better people. I’ve also had parents tell me that Fr. Patrick actually saved the life of their college-aged children when they were struggling with very serious issues of depression, grief and substance abuse.

Along with living in the dorms, Fr. Patrick had the task of teaching English composition and the appreciation of literature to innumerable college freshmen – and be assured this is not a task for the light-hearted! Certainly, when they were under his instruction these students did not fully appreciate his meticulous attention to detail and demanding evaluation of their work. But later many came to realize just how much they benefited from his instruction. His colleagues on the faculty also appreciated what he brought to the joint effort of guiding students – and sometimes administrators – to maintain a teaching-focused college and university environment.

An avid reader himself, Fr. Patrick also served for decades in the college library. He served as Assistant Librarian and then assumed the role of Director of the Library when Fr. Eugene of happy memory retired. He oversaw all aspects of the library: selecting and processing books, working with staff members and student workers, and maintaining an atmosphere of respectful silence among the library patrons.

Perhaps one of the greatest joys for Fr. Patrick was organizing, sponsoring and helping to sustain the Knights of Columbus Council 5354, which introduced many college men to the largest Catholic organization of Catholic men in the world. Through the Council, he mentored the young Knights in their faith, in their conduct and in their service to the campus community and beyond. His commitment to the Knights of Columbus reached beyond the collegiate council and to the state level when he served for ten years as State Chaplain for the Oklahoma Knights of Columbus. I want to thank the respect that the Knights of Columbus are showing to Fr. Patrick through their presence and participation in this funeral Mass and in the vigil service last night.

Fr. Patrick also gave of himself to others also through pastoral ministry, service that took him far beyond the campus of St. Gregory’s Abbey. He frequently accepted assignments on weekends to parishes around the state and served as pastor of St. Vincent de Paul Parish in McLoud from 1971 to 1976. In 1979 he accepted the “temporary” assignment to fill-in for a few weekends at the chapel of Tinker AFB, an assignment that became one of his greatest joys and legacies as a priest. For nearly 40 years he made the drive to Midwest City and Tinker AFB to celebrate Mass, perform baptisms, hear confessions, provide pastoral counseling, celebrate weddings, anoint the sick, conduct funerals and comfort the bereaved. And while he was not officially a “military chaplain,” his was the most stable pastoral presence – Catholic, Protestant, or otherwise – for the Tinker AFB chapel community for almost four decades. In 2001, Pope St. John Paul II bestowed upon him the Cross of Honor “Pro Ecclesia et Pontifice” in recognition of his faithful service to military personnel and their families. Fr. Patrick completed his tenure of service at Tinker AFB in 2018.

Yes, Fr. Patrick was chosen by adoption by God, the Church, his parents and his monastic community. And he used for the benefit of others the gifts of life, nourishment, education and formation that adoption made possible for him. Like a grain of wheat, he died to himself so that he might with God’s grace bear great fruit through monastic consecration and priestly ministry. He continued to do so even as his health steadily declined through the effects of progressive dementia. He faithfully participated in all aspects of our life at the monastery, continued to lift-up others in prayer and his concelebration of the Mass, and continued to welcome others and visit with them with warm hospitality – even if he could not always remember long-time acquaintances.

Fr. Patrick was not perfect. Like all of us he was a sinner and could and did give offense. But in his heart, Fr. Patrick sought God, and desired to give of himself for the benefit of others. How wonderful it is that he was comforted in his final hours to hear the beautiful words of absolution and Apostolic Pardon for his sins, and to hear words of encouragement, prayer and support of his confreres and care providers. As he approached death, Fr. Patrick knew like St. Paul that any suffering he had in this life could not compare with the glory to be revealed by God in eternal life. And like Job, even in the middle of trials, Fr. Patrick knew that his “vindicator lives” and his “inmost being was consumed with longing” for God.

We can be grateful that he approached his final breaths peacefully and with the confidence of a beloved child of God. We pray that he now “he shall see God” for himself, with his own eyes, in the beatific vision of heaven. we can take comfort and entrust him to God with gratitude in our hearts for the gift of Fr. Patrick McCool in our lives and be inspired to imitate all that was good in him so that we might be reunited with him the Kingdom of Heaven.

November 1, 2022: All Saints Day

St. Gregory’s Abbey – Homily from Abbot Lawrence

Readings: Revelation 7:2-4, 9-14; Psalm 24:1bc-2, 3-4ab, 5-6; 1 John 3:1-3; Matthew 5:1-12a

“Beloved, see what love the Father has bestowed on us that we may be called the children of God. Yet, so we are…. We are God’s children now; what we shall be has not yet been revealed. We do know that when it is revealed we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.” My brothers and sisters, it can be difficult for us to believe these extraordinary words of St. John. We think we know ourselves too well. We think that we know those who live alongside us too well. We know all too well our sinfulness. We know all too well the ways that we have hurt others, even when we have done so without having any intention to do so. We know all too well the frustration we have with others when they once again disappoint us or hurt us. We know all too well the frustration we have with ourselves, when we fall once again into that flaw or weakness that we have confessed a dozen times before. Yes, we know these limiting aspects of ourselves all too well.

But these words of St. John remind us of another aspect of ourselves that we need to know as well: that God our merciful Father has chosen us to be His beloved children. And to do this, God has sent His only Son, Jesus Christ – knowing that in doing so Jesus would suffer and shed his blood as a sacrificial lamb when the cumulative forces of evil and our sinfulness would reject him, silence him and kill him.

Such is the Father’s love for us, and such have been the lengths to which the Father has gone to seek us, to call us, and to make it possible for us to be redeemed, adopted and raised up to the glory God has in store for us. If we would come to know this truth about our dignity and the dignity of others, we would not be overwhelmed by those other limited and limiting aspects of ourselves that distract us and drag us down.

The solemnity of All Saints that we celebrate today is meant to draw our attention to this great dignity which God has bestowed upon us, a dignity that breaks through and beyond the limitations of sin and death. In celebrating the Saints, we acknowledge and acclaim the power of God’s grace to work in, with and through ordinary people to bring them to their full stature in Jesus Christ. We acknowledge and honor the saints to celebrate this grace of God, and their openness to be transformed by this grace. In faith, we believe that the saints who now enjoy the full vision of God are far more numerous than the limited number of those saints whom the Church has officially recognized as such. Rather, in hope we believe that the saints include a “great multitude, which no one could count, from every nation, race, people, and tongue.” An in hope, we believe that this number most likely includes even people we have known.

Today we also acknowledge that – with the exception of the Blessed Virgin Mary – all of the saints, both recognized and known only to God, were not without sin. Like us, they knew all too well their moments of weakness and sin. But rather than let those weaknesses and sins define them, they identified themselves most fundamentally with Jesus and with the new life that could be theirs only in him. Even in moments when they were poor in spirit, grieved by sin, dispossessed by the powerful, deprived of justice, confronted with conflict, and persecuted for their faith, they still looked to and identified with Jesus, whom they knew to be the only source of lasting blessing, joy, peace and life. Even in moments when they fell into sin under the weight of their burdens, they came to the Lord to find their rest.

The evil one would have us identify ourselves and others only with the negativity of weakness and sin. If he succeeds in doing so, then we will find no rest or blessing for we will wander aimlessly in isolation and despair. If, however, we remember that we and those alongside us share already the blessed identity of being “God’s children now,” and that we are called by God to be saints, then we can have peace and dwell in “blessed hope as we await the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

My confreres and friends, as we celebrate this All Saints Day, let us see in the saints a glimpse of our true selves, and look to them for a myriad of examples of how we also can cooperate with God’s grace and so more fully come to know our dignity as God’s beloved children. Inspired by the example of the saints, encouraged by the words of Holy Scripture, and strengthened by the gift of the Body and Blood of Christ, we can and indeed must help one another to recognize the dignity that is ours, and in this way help one another to come together into the fullness of everlasting life, when we shall truly be like Jesus Christ, “for we shall see him as he is.”

The Resurrection of the Lord- The Mass of Easter Day 2022

April 17, 2022- St. Gregory’s Abbey, Shawnee, OK

Readings for Easter Sunday: 1^st Reading- Acts 10:34a, 37-43; Psalm 118: 1-2, 16-17, 22-23; 2^ndReading- Col 3:1-4; John 20: 1-9

Homily from Fr. Boniface Copelin, OSB

On that first day of the week, so many years ago, Our Lord, Jesus Christ, rose from the dead. Today is his day. Many great historical figures have led exemplary lives, taught wise doctrines, and even died for the truth. But only one has risen from the grave. Among the vast array of humanity's greatest heroes, only about Jesus Christ can we say: "He rose again on the third day, in fulfillment of the scriptures."

There are many stories of good men or powerful men, but only in Christ's resurrection do goodness and power finally unite. The good guy wins! Only in Christ's resurrection does love prove that it is stronger than death. In Christ and in his resurrection, a new - a wildly new - hope dawns for all mankind, the hope that if we stay united to him through faith and grace, we will risewith him, rise from our own tombs, and live with him forever in the never-ending, glorious adventure of heaven.

No one else offers such a hope, because no one else has risen from the dead to be able to offer it - only Our Lord. The Resurrection is the definitive watershed in the history of religions; it is what makes Christianity absolutely unique. In the Resurrection, the reality of God becoming man, becomes more wonderful than any myth.

Only the reality of the Resurrection can explain the reality of the history of the Church: A few weak, non-influential, and uneducated fishermen from Galilee, frightened out of their wits when Jesus was arrested and executed, suddenly become world travelers, phenomenally successful preachers, and valiant martyrs for the truth of the Resurrection. And the Church they established continues to spread even after they die, holding fast to the exact same doctrine which they preached, century after century, in nation after nation.

Only the abiding presence of the Lord can explain this, and only the resurrection explains the abiding presence of the Lord. This is what makes us, as Christians, different. This is our hope.

If Christ had not risen from the dead, what good would his suffering have meant? Not much. Many religious leaders and holy men have been tortured and put to death because they made the religious officials of their time a little uncomfortable.

What good would his love, symbolized by his suffering, have been if evil and death had been able to extinguish it? Again, not much. His love would have come to an end with his death.

Only in the bright light of the Resurrection does the blood-stained darkness of the cross have any meaning at all. Because without the resurrection, which proves Christ’s divinity, His crucifixion is just the tortuous death of another holy man. Because of Christ’s resurrection, we can endure our own Good Fridays because we know that Easter Sunday is just around the corner.

The great Renaissance artist, Michelangelo, expressed this in a relatively small (about 7 feet tall) , not particularly well-known marble sculpture of the resurrected Christ that can be seen today in Rome in the church of Santa Maria sopra Minerva.

The figure of Christ in this sculpture is glorious. He himself, stands solidly, but not rigidly. He is young, muscular, confident, and energetic - like a boxer before a prize-fight, or a soldier preparing for battle. The risen Lord stands alone. The only other figure in the sculpture is his cross. He holds it in his left arm like a trophy. Compared to the figure of the resurrected Lord, the cross is small, almost puny. It is much too small to have been used to crucify him. The cross beam is narrower than His shoulders. It's just a flimsy little wooden cross; he appears to hold it as easily as any of us would hold a bouquet of flowers.

And that's the whole point of this work of art. The life-giving power of the Risen Lord has overwhelmed the deathly power of the cross. That is what Easter Sunday does for us. That is what the Resurrection does for us. It makes the light of hope shine so brightly in our lives that it shrinks our crosses down to a size that we can now bear, and we can bear them with joy, because we know that they are leading us towards the glorious victory of the Resurrection.

The Resurrection is our hope.

This morning we should relish the great victory Christ has won for us by his resurrection and thank him for giving us a share in it. How different our day-to-day lives would be if we believed this truth with our whole hearts, with every fiber of our being! Let’s face it, because of our faith, we know the future! We know what's in store!

A sick child who is about to have surgery is in pain and frightened. But the parent can reassure him, because the parent knows that the operation, as painful and frightening as it might be in the short term, will bring health and happiness in the long term.

We are those children! The sufferings and struggles of our lives are the healing cuts of God's scalpel. But we are also those parents! Because we know that if the cuts of the scalpel, in fact, make us more like Christ crucified, they will also bring us to share in the glory of Christ resurrected.

How can we let the power of Christ's resurrection seep into the depths of our minds and hearts? I offer one very simple thing that can make all the difference: Keep the Lord's Day Holy.

Every Sunday of the year is an Easter, a day dedicated to the cornerstone of our faith: the Resurrection. That is why the Christian sabbath is the 1^st day of the week rather than the 7^th. This is why the Church has made Sunday Mass obligatory - to make sure we don't forget about the Resurrection! To make sure we remember where we're going!

But we need to do our part too. Coming to Mass is the essential. But if we want to live our Sundays to the full, if we want our lives to take on the rhythm of the Resurrection, we have got to use our bodies, minds and hearts to make the whole day different. Sunday is not a day for doing laundry or going shopping. It is a day for coming closer to the Lord. The way a Christian lives Sunday should be different than the way a non-Christian lives Sunday.

Today, the greatest Sunday of the year, let's honor the Lord not only with our voices, but also in our hearts. Let's make the effort between now and Pentecost to establish the habits which will make Sundays different. Let us ask the Lord to send us His Spirit that we might recognize every Sunday of the year as a little Easter.

Easter Vigil 2022

April 16, 2022- St. Gregory’s Abbey, Shawnee OK

Readings for Vigil of Easter: Genesis 1:1—2:2; Genesis 22:1-18; Exodus 14:15—15:1; Isaiah 54:5-14; Isaiah 55:1-11; Baruch 3:9-15, 32C4:48; Ezekiel 36:16-17a, 18-28; Romans 6:3-11; Luke 24:1-12.

Homily from Abbot Lawrence

My dear confreres, brothers and sisters, may our risen Lord, Jesus Christ, fill you with the exultant joy and lasting peace of his triumph over sin and death!

No matter our age or state in life, we all from time to time experience occasions of misunderstanding, or disappointment or even outright conflict. Sadly, sometimes we can let even small instances of such misunderstanding, disappointment, or conflict to develop a life of their own. Like an untreated scratch that can lead to serious infection and even lead to death, so also we can allow miscommunications, disappointments or conflicts to fester until they infect our entire lives with resentment, or suspicion, or jealousy or anger. Ultimately, we can allow untreated misunderstandings or conflicts to poison and even kill cherished friendships, family ties, and fraternal bonds of community.

One of the reasons why this can happen is that we can find it very to take the initiative in resolving the conflict or in healing the wounds of disappointment and misunderstanding. We easily can hold onto the pain we feel or the betrayal we have experienced and refuse to make the first move toward forgiveness, reconciliation and healing. Perhaps this is because of our sense of justice or personal honor. Or perhaps we are afraid of losing face if we know we are partly to blame. Or perhaps we fear the pain of reopening an old wound without the assurance that the other will respond with the desire to be reconciled or ask our forgiveness, or to extend their forgiveness to us.

On this sacred night, we are reminded over and over again that this is not how God acts toward us. In each of the readings of this great vigil, we hear of how God takes the initiative in establishing, forming, preserving and restoring the loving relationship that God desires to have with us, and the life that can be ours as a result. It was God who first brought forth creation, dispelling darkness with light, bringing order to chaos and calling forth the beauty of life. It was God who determined to create us human beings in His own image and likeness, making us capable of receiving and giving love, and living in harmony with God, with one another and with all creation. And when our first parents rejected this loving plan of God, and each subsequent generation passed to the next the isolating wound of sin, God again and again took the initiative to call us back to Him, patiently preparing us to receive and experience the gift of reconciliation, healing and restored life in Him.

Tonight we celebrate the fullest expression and culmination of the loving initiative of God. As scripture tells us, in the fullness of time “God sent his son into the world not to condemn the world but so that the world might be saved through him.” (JN 3:17) Throughout his life, Jesus embodies the full initiative of God to extend healing, reconciliation and peace in such a profound way that a new creation comes into being in him. Even when his testimony to the truth of the love of the Father is rejected and ridiculed to the point of his torture, condemnation and crucifixion, Jesus does not give up: he continues to offer reconciliation, forgiveness and love to his last breath. And through his unflinching fidelity to the love of God the Father, Jesus breaks through all the misunderstanding, disappointment and conflict that sin can muster, breaking through even the power of death with “the glory of the Father” to open the way to “newness of life.”

My brothers and sisters in Christ, in baptism Jesus sprinkled us with the clean waters of reconciliation upon us and has raised us to new life in him. God has taken the first step, the second step, the third step and countless more steps toward us to offer each of us forgiveness, healing and new life in Jesus Christ. This night God invites us again to experience the healing power of his love. Certainly the evil one will try to convince us that this good news of new life in our Risen Lord is nonsense that we should not believe. Satan would have us believe that we are beyond the reach of the mercy of God. But that is a lie. In a few moments we will have the opportunity to renew the promises of our baptism and to reject the Father of Lies who would keep us from welcoming the initiative of God’s love that is our participation in the resurrection of Jesus Christ. With the light of resurrection shining before us through the darkness of sin in our lives, let us again be cleanse in the living water that is Jesus Christ, and let us think of ourselves “as being dead to sin and living for God in Christ Jesus.” To him be the glory, now and forever. Amen! Alleluia!

Good Friday of the Passion of Our Lord

April 15, 2022 – St. Gregory’s Abbey, Shawnee OK

Readings: Isaiah 52: 13-53:12; Psalms 31:2, 6, 12-13, 15-16, 17, 25; Hebrews 4:14-16; 5:7-9 John 18:1-19:42

Homily from Br. Peter Shults, OSB

I’m often amazed by the skill of people who can communicate using American Sign Language (ASL). My eyes are often drawn to interpreters who fluidly sign any number of words, concepts, or phrases with speed and precision. But recently I was told that ASL doesn’t share with English a common grammar or syntax. Rather than signing each English word, I’m told that signing is more like painting a picture using a few carefully selected signs . . . a picture that is so vivid….presumably any one can understand its meaning.

Our Gospel today paints this vivid picture for us. In fact, the evangelist tells us that as the soldier thrust his lance in the side of Christ and blood and water poured forth . . . this happened to fulfill the Scripture in Zechariah . . . “They will look upon him whom they have pierced.” But I can’t help but wonder…. For those who stood at the foot of the cross . . . what did they see? What detail grabbed their attention? . . . Was it his side . . . run through and dripping with blood and water? Was it his hands and feet that were nailed to the cross? What did they see?

But maybe even more to the point . . . What do we see? What meaning could we possibly interpret in such merciless violence. Why . . . on this Good Friday . . . Do we call to mind the torture and death of an innocent man … bloodied, beaten, and crucified?

Brothers and sisters… the answer is hinted at in our first reading in Isaiah…. “He was pierced for our offenses, crushed for our sins, upon him was the chastisement that make us whole, by his stripes we were healed.” What do we see when we look upon this pierced one?…. We see more than just a sign or an image. . . We see our pardon. We see our healing . . . We see the very embodiment of divine . . . self-giving . . . sacrificial love. Love that has been poured out and now gushes forth from his pierced side . . . love in nail scarred hands that opened that day and remain open to welcome a weary world inside.

On this Good Friday . . .The world may wonder why we commemorate our Lord’s Passion and Death. They may scoff and be repulsed by the wounds of our Lord that we cherish so dearly. They may wonder what we see in calling to mind a pierced side and nail scarred hands….. But for us . . . No other picture . . . No other description . . . and no other sign . . . could demonstrate love so perfectly and so completely . . . For us . . . when we look at Christ who has been pierced . . . We see love and love eternal.

Holy Thursday, Evening Mass of the Lord’s Supper

April 14, 2022 – St. Gregory’s Abbey, Shawnee OK

Readings: Exodus 12:1-8, 11-14; Psalm 116:12-13, 15-16c, 17-18; 1 Corinthians 11:23-26; John 13:1-15

Homily from Abbot Lawrence

Just a few days ago during the Mass for Palm/Passion Sunday, when we began this Holy Week, we heard the reading of a section of St. Paul’s Letter to the Philippians (2:6-11) that speaks of the humble obedience of Jesus. Over the next two days we monks will be chanting part of the passage at the close of each of the hours of the Divine Office: Christus factus est pro nobis obediens usque ad mortem, mortem autem crucis…. Christ became obedient for us unto death, even death on a cross.

Along with describing how Jesus was obedient unto death on the cross, this ancient testimony from the earliest years of Christian faith proclaims that “Jesus Christ, though he was in the form of God did not deem equality with God something to be grasped, but rather emptied himself taking the form of a slave.” This evening we witness Jesus embody his profound humility in a culminating lesson for his disciples as he prepares to embrace his death on the cross. On this night when he establishes the sacrament of this Body and Blood, on this night when he is betrayed, Jesus does not demand the honor due to him as Master and Teacher, and he does not demand the worship due to him the Son of God. Rather he humbles himself by bowing down and placing himself at the very feet of his disciples. This night, Jesus strips himself of his garment, binds his waist with a towel and performs the lowly task of washing their soiled and perhaps even somewhat gnarled feet – a task normally performed by an anonymous or at least unacknowledged household servant or slave.

When he is finished, he tells his followers that they must follow his example and do the same for one another. Without doubt, this instruction, this new commandment, is meant not only for the twelve in the upper room, but for all those who would come to believe in him through their testimony. Just as each generation has received a share in the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ in remembrance of him, so also each new generation is meant to share in the humility of Jesus Christ in remembrance of him.

In a few moments we will enact this humility of Christ in the ritual washing of feet. But how are we to love one another in a way that goes beyond ritual imitation? The way we are to do this need not be complicated. Rather we are to imitate the love of our Master in the simplest and most humble gestures needed in order to live alongside one another in him. What is more, we are to perform such gestures of humble love not grudgingly with forced tolerance for one another, but with freely given love through acts of service offered without expectation of reward or even recognition.

St. Benedict calls for such humble acts of love in several parts of the Rule, and especially in his teachings on the care of the sick and on the good zeal that monks are to foster with fervent love. Regarding the sick, it is true that he reminds the infirm that care extended to them is performed out of love for Christ and so they should not make unreasonable demands. Nonetheless, St. Benedict writes that caregivers are to be especially mindful of the infirm even if we find them moody or inconsiderate, or if we are inconvenienced by their limitations, or feel uncomfortable by their noises, or disgusted by their smells, or disturbed by their annoying behaviors. In all this we are to serve them in imitation of Jesus, who humbled himself as a slave.

Regarding the “good zeal of monks,” St. Benedict tells us in chapter seventy-two that we should be the first to show respect to the other, “supporting with the greatest patience one another’s weaknesses of body or behavior, and earnestly competing in obedience to one another.” None of us “is to pursue what he judges better for himself, but instead, what he judges better for someone else.” Juniors of the community are to respect the elders, and elders for their part are to love the juniors – listening to their insights and seeing that they also do not suffer neglect. And as he writes in chapter four “On the Tools for Good Works,” we are never “to give a hollow greeting of peace or turn away when someone needs our love.”

Those who are not monks also have countless opportunities each day to imitate the humble love of Jesus. Oblates who strive to live both the teachings of the Gospel and the wisdom of St. Benedict certainly have such opportunities to imitate Jesus. So do Christians in all walks of life: those who have married, who have become parents, who have become caregivers to their parents, who meet the demands of friendship, or who are employed in service to the public – individual circumstances are almost without limit. But in any station in life, each day provides the opportunity and the responsibility to do as Jesus Christ does at the Last Supper: to serve one another in humility and love.

We should remember, however, that humility does not mean being passive to the point of self-destruction or timid to the neglect of justice. Far from it. More often than not, humility, true humility, demands courageous action and the disruption of social norms. In his humility, Jesus broke social norms by washing the feet of his disciples, by eating with sinners, by healing on the Sabbath, and by confronting the self-righteous. Meek and humble of heart, Jesus acted with courage throughout his life, especially in the final hours of his passion and death on the cross. Imitating the humility of Christ demands courage, and the faith to unite whatever suffering we might experience in his name to his own suffering for the redemption of the world.

On the night of the first Passover in Egypt, the Israelites were saved by the blood of a spotless lamb and nourished by its flesh for their journey to freedom. On this night, Jesus begins the eternal Passover Covenant, saving us from death with his blood and nourishing us with his own flesh for our journey to freedom from sin. We progress on this journey with each act of love, and with his grace we will arrive together at the promised land of everlasting life. Knowing our weak nature and loving us all the same, Jesus gives us this night not only the new commandment to love one another, but also the gift of his very Body and Blood so that in him we can do what he has called us to do.

Ash Wednesday 2022: Mass at St. Gregory’s Abbey

Readings: Joel 2:12-18; Psalm 51:3-4, 5-6ab, 12-13, 14 and 17; 2 Corinthians 5:20-6:2; Matthew 6:1-6, 16-18

Homily from Abbot Lawrence

Those of us who came of age before 1989 shared to one degree or another a certain level of anxiety during what was known as the great “Cold War” between the former Union of Soviet Socialist Republics – known as the Russian empire – and the western world of led by the democracies of the United States and Western Europe. Oftentimes this “cold war” was fought through deadly proxy wars in the impoverished nations of the world that were seeking alliances with wealthy and powerful nations. Along with these proxy wars was the constant underlying fear that the tension between Russia and the United States would lead to a direct conflict and even to the launch of the vast stockpiles of nuclear weapons that would destroy life on earth as we know it. This was a very real fear. Then came 1989 and the movements that led first to the fall of communist totalitarian rule in Poland, then to the fall of the Berlin Wall, and eventually to the collapse of the Soviet Union itself. We thought the Cold War was over and that the alliance of democracies had triumphed. It is hard to believe that those who are thirty years of age and younger have no living memory of any of this.

Sadly, in the last few days the old conflicts have returned with the tragedy of the unprovoked invasion of Ukraine by Russian forces. This new war is already having a global impact and the risk of sparking nuclear warfare is openly published in the news media. Many are surprised and shocked by the events of the last week. Perhaps this indicates that we had been lulled into complacency about the fragility of peace. Perhaps we were too quick to neglect the warning signs of the proxy conflicts that had been simmering for years.

Pope Francis has called upon all persons of good will to fast and to pray today in a special way for the people of Ukraine and for peace. This is a good, noble thing for us to do in whatever way we can – focusing our fasting, prayer and almsgiving on this first day of Lent, for the benefit of the suffering people of Ukraine – and the people of Russia as well. As we do this, we can and should also keep in mind the opportunity that we have in the season of Lent to step-out of any complacency we might have in the face of the forces of evil in our own lives and the oppression that such evil brings.

Without meaning to diminish the reality of what is happening in Ukraine, it occurs to me that the great tragedy unfolding there can be a real-world image to help us reflect on what can happen in our own personal lives and our own communities if we ignore very real forces that are ready to attack, invade and overrun our peace: the forces of the evil one. In fact, St. Paul uses martial language in his letter to the Ephesians to describe the tactics we need to take to resist the forces of temptation in our lives. He writes: “Put on the armor of God so that you may be able to stand firm against the tactics of the devil. For our struggle is not with flesh and blood but with the principalities, with the powers, with the world rulers of this present darkness, with the evil spirits in the heavens. Therefore, put on the armor of God, that you may be able to resist on the evil day and, having done everything, to hold your ground.” (Ephesians 6:11-13)

On this solemn day of Ash Wednesday we begin the great season of grace that is Lent. St. Benedict instructs us that Lent is an opportunity when we monks can recommit ourselves to those things that we should be doing in every season of the year. He reminds us that we likely have become negligent in our discipline and our complacent in use of the “strong and noble weapons of obedience to do battle for the true King, Christ our Lord.” (Rule, Prol. 3) This is a teaching that can apply not only to those of us who have been called to monastic life, but also to all Christians who are engaged in the day to day, hand to hand combat of spiritual warfare against the “… rulers of this present darkness and evil spirits.”

Our readings today remind us that it is not too late to recommit ourselves in our great battle against sin, and our struggle for the cause of righteousness by shouldering our own responsibilities to advance the peace of the Kingdom of God as “ambassadors for Christ.” (2 Cor. 5:20) The opening lines of our first reading today proclaim: “Even now, says the LORD, / return to me with your whole heart, / with fasting, and weeping, and mourning; / Rend your hearts, not your garments, / and return to the LORD, your God.” (Joel 2:12ff) St. Paul echoes this in our second reading: “Behold, now is a very acceptable time; behold, now is the day of salvation.” (2 Cor 6:2) St. Benedict puts it this way: “If we wish to reach eternal life, even as we avoid the torments of hell, then – while there is still time, while we are in this body and have time to accomplish all these things by the light of life – we must run and do now what will profit us forever.” (Prol. 43-44)

All of us can be inspired by the courageous efforts of the Ukrainian people in their resistance to the invasion of their homeland by hostile foreign forces. Ordinary citizens of all ages have rallied alongside the ranks of trained soldiers to defend their liberty in anyway they can – some even by laying down in roadways to stop Russian tanks, others by confronting the invading only with the force of their courageous words. They realize that they must band together in any way that they can to resist the powerful foe that attacks them.

That is what we are doing as a Church today in the face of the deadly forces of sin and complacency. With humility we recognize that we have not resisted the attacks of temptation in the past, and that we are not able to withstand the forces of evil in our lives on our own. We need Jesus Christ and we need each other. And so it is that we gather as a community of faith to encourage and support one another in our desire to turn away from sin and in our struggle against temptation. With the imposition of ashes on our heads we even receive together a physical sign of our repentance and our resolve to renew our resistance to sin and to advance the Kingdom of God in our lives and in our world. Heeding the warning of Jesus in the gospel, we do this not out of a sense of vainglory that would seek the admiration and praise of others. Rather, we make this public act of solidarity in recognition of our need for the prayers and support of others in the ranks of the Lord.

Today we together renew our allegiance to the true King, Christ the Lord, whose triumph over the forces of sin and death we will celebrate at holy Easter. In his message for Lent this year, Pope Francis urges us not to grow tired in our struggle against evil. He writes: “Let us not grow tired of uprooting evil from our lives. May the corporal fasting to which Lent calls us fortify our spirit for the battle against sin. Let us not grow tired of asking for forgiveness in the Sacrament of Penance and Reconciliation, knowing that God never tires of forgiving. Let us not grow tired of fighting against concupiscence, that weakness which induces selfishness and all evil, and finds in the course of history a variety of ways to lure men and women into sin.” As we prepare to receive the ashes that represent our individual and communal resolve, I return to the opening prayer of this Mass: “Grant, O Lord, that we may begin with holy fasting this campaign of Christian service, so that, as we take up battle against spiritual evils, we may be armed with weapons of self-restraint. We ask this through the true King, Jesus Christ the Lord. Amen.”

February 27, 2022
Readings: Isaiah 9:1-6; Colossians 3:12-15; Matthew 5:1-12a

Homily from Abbot Lawrence:

For every boot that tramped in battle, / every cloak rolled in blood, / will be burned as fuel for fire. / For a child is born to us, a son is given to us; / upon his shoulder dominion rests.
They name him Wonder-Counselor, God-Hero,
Father-Forever, Prince of Peace.
(Isaiah 9:4-5)
These words of hope, this vision of peace, are proclaimed each year at Mass during the darkness of the night that ends with the bright dawn of Christmas day. These words are inspired by the Holy Spirit and they stir within us a great desire for the peace that they herald: a peace that only the Son of God and Prince of Peace can bring to our hearts and to our suffering world. When we hear these words at Christmas, we rejoice that the words promise to be fulfilled not in some distant future of our dreams, but even in our own time and in the reality of our daily lives. We need to receive these words in the same way today.

Once again, boots are trampling in battle; once again, cloaks of soldiers and civilians, of men, women and children are rolling in blood. Only a few days ago, ordinary people living in cities and villages of Ukraine and Russia were going about their daily lives in the hope and even expectation that peace would prevail over the insane logic of war. Of course, in reality that peace had already been violated for the last eight years in parts of Ukraine, and the voices of peacemakers were ignored by those who had closed their ears to the message of peace. Now the infection of the madness of war has metastasized throughout Ukraine, and threatens the peace and stability of all the world. Sadly, the old rivalry between leaders of Russia and leaders of the nations of NATO has once again resulted in violent confrontation.

The tragedies of war and unjust oppression have been present throughout human history. This still relatively new century already has seen terrible conflicts and even genocides in places such as Iraq, Afghanistan, Darfur, Sudan and other nations in northern and eastern Africa, Venezuela, Syria, Miramar, and China. We also cannot forget the ongoing conflict in the very land where Jesus Christ first proclaimed the Kingdom of God. What does the persistent tragedy of war mean for that Kingdom of God and the message of peace that Jesus proclaims? What does it mean when one Christian nation wages war upon another Christian nation? What does this mean for us when we can feel so helpless in the face of the stubborn cruelty of conflict?

These admittedly are questions that are difficult to ask and even more difficult to answer. Even so, Jesus gives a clear answer to his disciples: “love one another, as I have loved you.” (John 14:12) This is the key to opening ourselves and our world to the peace that Isaiah prophesied and that Jesus came to establish. Along this line, the words that St. Paul first wrote to the Colossians apply to us in our own time. As God’s beloved chosen ones, we are to put on “…heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience, bearing with one another and forgiving one another, if one has a grievance against another; as the Lord has forgiven [us.]” Above all, we are to “put on love, that is, the bond of perfection. And let the peace of Christ control [our] hearts, the peace into which [we] were also called in one body.”

We should realize that any sin when we commit has a far-reaching negative impact not only on those alongside whom we live but also on the entire human family. Even so, we also should realize that any act of love, any act of mercy, any gesture of peace has an even greater impact on those alongside whom we live and on the entire human family as well. By the power of the Holy Spirit dwelling within us, and by the grace of Jesus Christ who feeds us with us, the poor in spirit can experience the kingdom of heaven through us; those who mourn can be comforted through us; the dignity of the meek can be protected through us; those who thirst for righteousness can be satisfied through us; those in need can receive mercy through us and those who suffer the tragedy of war and other forms of conflict and violence can experience peace through us.

Earlier today, after his Sunday recitation of the Angelus, Pope Francis gave a sober yet hopeful message. He said: “Those who wage war forget humanity. They do not start from the people, they do not look at the real life of people, but place partisan interests and power before all else. They trust in the diabolical and perverse logic of weapons, which is the furthest from the logic of God. And they distance themselves from ordinary people who want peace, and who are the real victims in every conflict, who pay for the follies of war with their own skin. … God is with the peacemakers, not with those who use violence.”

What are we to do? To be peacemakers for humanity we must begin by being peacemakers with our brothers and sisters with whom we live – with confreres in our monastic community, with the members of our families, with our fellow parishioners and folks in our neighborhoods, and even with the strangers we encounter in our own daily life. As Catholics, we believe we can be instruments of peace and healing for those who suffer the effects of war and for those who are responsible for inflicting the tragedy of war. Through prayer, fasting and acts of charity we can step-up as witnesses to and promoters of the peace of Christ, a peace beyond all understanding, “peace that the world cannot give.” (cf. John 14:27) And so, as we plan our special prayer, fasting and almsgiving during Lent, we can offer our Lenten piety for the intention of peace.

Pope Francis calls upon us to do so in a special way this week on Ash Wednesday, saying: “I renew to all the invitation to make March 2, Ash Wednesday, a day of prayer and fasting for peace in Ukraine. A day to be close to the sufferings of the Ukrainian people, to feel that we are all brothers and sisters, and to implore of God the end of the war.”

We must hold fast to the truth that the great light of Jesus Christ still shines for those who walk in darkness and who dwell in a land of gloom. Each of us received that light in our baptism and Jesus tells us that we are the light of the world and that we must let our light shine before all. (Matthew 5:14-16) We are God’s children called to be peacemakers in the Kingdom of God – and against this Kingdom the very gates of hell cannot prevail. Yes, as so many of us have sung over the years: “Let there be peace on earth, let this be the moment now. Let there be peace on earth, and let this be our solemn vow: to take each moment, and live each moment, in peace eternally.”

All Saints Day – November 1, 2021

St Gregory’s Abbey – Shawnee, Oklahoma

Readings: Revelation 7:2-4, 9-14; Psalm 24:1bc-2, 3-4ab, 5-6; 1 John 3:1-3; Matthew 5:1-12a

Homily by Abbot Lawrence

Osage County in northeastern Oklahoma has attracted quite a bit of attention in recent weeks. Local folks and locations have been involved in the production and filming of a new movie directed by the famed director Martin Scorsese, with the featured actors being well-known stars such as Leonardo DiCaprio, Robert De Niro, Brendan Fraser and John Lithgow. Killers of the Flower Moon is the film adaptation of the book of the same name by Adrienne Tyler. The book details the horrific crimes committed against members of the Osage Nation in the 1920s, crimes of conspiracy, greed, theft and murder, and corruption. The story depicts some of the worst and perhaps even damning decisions and actions that human beings can perpetrate.

It would be a shame if this were the only story associated with Osage County and the people who live there. Just as real, and more fully revealing the true nature of the people of that part of the world, are stories of kindness, compassion, patience, humility, generosity, self-sacrifice and faith. These are not the damning decisions and actions of the “killers of the flower moon,” but are the sanctifying decisions and actions of persons who opened themselves to the movement of divine grace – decisions and actions that lead one to the Kingdom of Heaven. Our Catholic faith has been very formative for the Osage People in this regard. Indeed our own founders Fr. Isidore Robot, OSB, and Br. Dominic Lambert, OSB, traveled there in 1876 in search of a permanent home for our community, and they found with the Osage a people of fervent Catholic faith thirsting for the Word of God and the Sacraments of the Church.

A testament to this faith of ordinary persons of the Osage Nation is the Catholic parish church in Pawhuska. Immaculate Conception Parish has as its home a true jewel of a church. Built in 1910, it houses a series of beautiful and unique stained-glass windows. What makes the windows unique is that one of them depicts actual members of the Osage Nation with their beloved Jesuit Priest, Fr. Shoemaker, ministering to them in Kansas before they were moved to Indian Territory. The design of the window made it somewhat controversial with the thinking being that living folks should not be so depicted in a church alongside officially recognized saints of the Church. In fact, the Pope had to give a special indult for the window to be installed because it depicted actual living members of the tribe.

To me, this beautiful if controversial window of Immaculate Conception Catholic Church in Pawhuska reveals not only the history of the Osage Nation, but also the history and mystery of the Church as a whole – and by whole I mean not only the members of the Church who are enrolled in parishes and communities of consecrated life, but the entire Communion of Saints. Yes, it certainly is prudent to wait until the entire story of a life of an individual is known before making permanent memorials to that person. In recent years we have seen many memorials and statues of folks become controversial due to the person’s checkered and troubling past. But in the case of the window in Pawhuska I see something inspiring and informative: it shows that living and known women, men and children do indeed stand alongside certified saints whose journey in this world came to an end long ago.

The window reminds us that the Church Triumphant in heaven is not removed and remote from the Church Militant on this earth. The two are intimately connected in real time. Along with this, tomorrow we will express our belief that both the Church Triumphant and the Church Militant are intimately connected in real time to the Church Suffering – the souls of those in Purgatory who are being cleansed from the stain of sin that clung to them at the time of their deaths.

On this All Saints Day we celebrate the glory of the saints in heaven – the saints that are known and recognized, and the countless more saints whose identity we do not know for certain. We celebrate that “great multitude, / which no one could count, / from every nation, race, people, and tongue.” The saints stand “before the throne and before the Lamb, wearing white robes and holding palm branches in their hands” as they cry out “in a loud voice: ‘Salvation comes from our God, who is seated on the throne, and from the Lamb.’” Not all of them might have the name recognition of Hollywood stars like DiCaprio or De Niro. Nonetheless, the saints of the Church Triumphant shine even more brightly than earthly celebrities in the firmament of heaven and their glory will never fade with time.

In this celebration of the glory of the saints in heaven we also find a message of hope for ourselves. We truly are connected to these saints who now intercede for us, inspiring us with their lives. We actually have much in common with them. They also experienced the many challenges of life that we experience, including the challenges of temptation, sin and persecution for their faith. And as we continue to struggle, we need to remember that the glorious life that they know is also meant for each of us. We hear this good news in our second reading, taken from the First Letter of John: “Beloved, we are God’s children now; / what we shall be has not yet been revealed. / We do know that when it is revealed we shall be like him, / for we shall see him as he is. / Everyone who has this hope based on him makes himself pure, / as he is pure.”

My brothers and sisters, by grace we are children of God. As such we are accompanied by a countless number of brothers and sisters who intercede for us and give us examples of how to live in this life the blessings of poverty of spirit, of sorrow, of meekness, of rectitude, of righteousness, of mercy, of purity, of reconciliation, and of fortitude in adversity. Remembering this, we are motivated to imitate the saints so that we might one day be fully united with them in Christ. Our union with them is not only for a future day, but is a reality even now – especially as we gather at this table of the Eucharist, when we are made one with them and with one another in the Body and Blood of the triumphant Lamb of God, Jesus Christ.

Readings: Isaiah 60:1-6; Psalm 72: 1-2, 708, 10-11, 12-13; Ephesians 3:2-3a, 5-6; Matthew 2:1-12

ABBOT LAWRENCE – ST. GREGORY’S ABBEY

It’s not very far from Jerusalem to Bethlehem. It’s only about five or six miles. That’s like going from Abbey to the south side of Tecumseh or to Bethel or to South Rock Creek – not even reaching a county line! It’s not that far at all, even if there were no paved roads or fast cars. And yet, the man who was known as Herod the Great, who built splendid palaces, a huge seaport to promote trade, and brokered a mutually beneficial deal with the Roman Empire, was not aware of incredibly important things going on practically under his own nose. Even though he had at his disposal experts on the writings and visions of the prophets of Israel, he still did not know what was unfolding in the insignificant Town of Judah known as Bethlehem just a few miles away. He was not aware. I wonder why. Perhaps it was because he was so focused on his strong-handed and even ruthlessly murderous grip on power that he had lost he ability to see beyond the fortified walls of Jerusalem, the excluding walls of his palace, and the blinding wall of his royal nose.

Reading: Isaiah 52:7-10; Psalm 98:1-6: Hebrews 1:1-6; John 1:1-18

ABBOT LAWRENCE – ST. GREGORY’S ABBEY

Back in the days of my childhood there was a little rhyme that almost every elementary school kid knew: Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me. Every child who was being taunted, ridiculed or verbally bullied would know to recite this little jingle. But every child who was being taunted, ridiculed or verbally bullied also knew something else: it was a lie. Words can hurt; words do hurt. In fact, words can inflict longer-lasting wounds and deeper scars that many sticks and stones. The wounds and scars inflicted by words can last for a lifetime. Sometimes the injuries never really heal. Sometimes the injuries are fatal.

Christmas Mass During the Night 2020

Readings: Isaiah 9:1-6; Psalm 96:1-2, 2-3, 11-12, 13; Titus 2:11-14; Luke 2:1-14

Abbot Lawrence – St. Gregory’s Abbey

The Year of Our Lord 2020 is drawing to a close. Some might add “Thanks be to God!” It was a year of many jarring headlines and unprecedented events. Unfortunately, all to many of those headlines announced bad news – from natural disasters aggravated by a changing climate, to the worldwide spread of a new, highly infectious and deadly virus, to social strife and even political events and unfounded claims that threaten to undermine the functioning of our democratic republic. But there were also some very positive stories and even reason for a collective sense of wonder. One of these occurred this week. It was the conjunction of the planets Jupiter and Saturn: a natural phenomenon that was dubbed by many as the Christmas Star.

2nd Sunday of Easter: Divine Mercy Sunday, April 19, 2020

Readings: Acts of the Apostles 2:42-47; Psalm 118: 2-4, 13-15, 22-24; 1 Peter 1:3-9; John 20:19-31

Abbot Lawrence – St. Gregory’s Abbey

Easter 2020

Readings: Acts 10:34A, 37-43; Psalm 118:1-2, 16-18, 22-23; Colossians 3:1-4; John 20:1-9

Abbot Lawrence – St. Gregory’s Abbey

Palm/Passion Sunday: 2020

Readings: Isaiah 50:4-7; Psalm 22:8-9, 17-18, 19-20, 23-24; Philippians 2:6-11; Matthew 26:14 – 27:66

Abbot Lawrence – St. Gregory’s Abbey

Homily for the Annunciation 2020

Isaiah 7:10-14, 7:8; Psalm 40:7-11; Hebrews 10:4-10; Luke 1:26-38

Abbot Lawrence – St. Gregory’s Abbey

Page 1 of 2

Start
Prev
1
2
Next
End

Palm Sunday of the Passion 2026

Homily of His Eminence, Christophe Cardinal Pierre - Sesquicentennial Mass, October 13, 2025

Homily by His Eminence Christophe Cardinal Pierre- Sesquicentennial Mass- October 13, 2025

Pentecost Sunday 2025

Easter Vigil 2025- St. Gregory's Abbey

All Saints Day- November 1, 2023

Mass for the National Day of Remembrance for Aborted Children

Easter Vigil 2023: St. Gregory’s Abbey

Good Friday – 2023- St. Gregory’s Abbey

Holy Thursday – Evening Mass of the Lord’s Supper, 2023

Palm Sunday / Passion Sunday 2023

Ash Wednesday, February 22, 2023

6th Sunday in Ordinary Time, B – February 12, 2023

Christmas Mass During the Night – 2022

Mass of Christian Burial- Fr. Patrick McCool

All Saints Day, November 1, 2022

Homily- Easter Sunday 2022

Homily- Easter Vigil 2022

Homily- Good Friday 2022

Homily- Holy Thursday- 2022

Homily- Ash Wednesday 2022

Homily- Sunday, February 27, 2022

Homily- All Saints Day 2021

Epiphany 2020

Readings: Isaiah 60:1-6; Psalm 72: 1-2, 708, 10-11, 12-13; Ephesians 3:2-3a, 5-6; Matthew 2:1-12

ABBOT LAWRENCE – ST. GREGORY’S ABBEY

Christmas Mass during the Day 2020

Reading: Isaiah 52:7-10; Psalm 98:1-6: Hebrews 1:1-6; John 1:1-18

ABBOT LAWRENCE – ST. GREGORY’S ABBEY

Christmas Mass During the Night 2020

Christmas Mass During the Night 2020

Readings: Isaiah 9:1-6; Psalm 96:1-2, 2-3, 11-12, 13; Titus 2:11-14; Luke 2:1-14

Abbot Lawrence – St. Gregory’s Abbey

Homily for 2nd Sunday of Easter: Divine Mercy Sunday 2020

2nd Sunday of Easter: Divine Mercy Sunday, April 19, 2020

Readings: Acts of the Apostles 2:42-47; Psalm 118: 2-4, 13-15, 22-24; 1 Peter 1:3-9; John 20:19-31

Abbot Lawrence – St. Gregory’s Abbey

Easter 2020

Easter 2020

Readings: Acts 10:34A, 37-43; Psalm 118:1-2, 16-18, 22-23; Colossians 3:1-4; John 20:1-9

Abbot Lawrence – St. Gregory’s Abbey

Palm Sunday of the Lord's Passion 2020

Palm/Passion Sunday: 2020

Readings: Isaiah 50:4-7; Psalm 22:8-9, 17-18, 19-20, 23-24; Philippians 2:6-11; Matthew 26:14 – 27:66

Abbot Lawrence – St. Gregory’s Abbey

Homily for the Annunciation 2020

Homily for the Annunciation 2020

Isaiah 7:10-14, 7:8; Psalm 40:7-11; Hebrews 10:4-10; Luke 1:26-38

Abbot Lawrence – St. Gregory’s Abbey

About Us