Author: mcenter

A few years ago, a friend of mine in another diocese received a change of assignment and he moved to a rural part of his Kentucky diocese. He invited me to come and visit the church and rectory and I asked him how rural the place was. He said it was not far from some major town, but it was pretty rural. He said the roads were hilly, narrow with lots of winding bends. When he was giving me directions he said: You will know you are about a half a mile from the church, when to the right side as you travel you will see a derelict car, on a mound, sitting in the middle of a field, and on top of the car there will probably be standing two goats. One on the roof and one on the hood. Sure enough, as I drove by the field, here was a car with two goats standing on it. This is an absolutely true story.

If you ask people here in the States for directions, they usually answer with road numbers and compass directions. If I was asking the way to Columbus for example a person is likely to tell me that I take the I 75 North to Exit 42 to I 675 to Exit 26A to I 70 East. Simple! Right? In the States we give directions according to numbers, map directions, and compass points.

If you ask for the same directions in Ireland, it might go something like this: “Do you see that road over there? You don’t take that one.” And it begins! “You take that road over there and when you pass Murphy’s pub on the left, you turn right and go for about half a mile. You will know you have gone half a mile because you will pass a yellow house. After you turn right you travel until you see a big fine house, standing in a field, all alone, and you’ll think to yourself, what on God’s earth does a fine house like that have any reason to be in such a lonely field? You turn left at the big house and that will lead you to O’Connor’s Barn. It’s called O’Connor’s Barn, which is really a pub but because they don’t want the tax man to know it’s a pub, they call it a barn.” In Ireland we give directions according to landmarks.

The Church’s year does not end on the 31^st of December but on the Feast of Christ the King which is the Sunday after the 33^rd Sunday in Ordinary Time. So, we are moving toward the end of the Church Year. As we move toward the end of the year the readings in the Scripture typically begin to reflect on what is called the Last Things, Death, Judgement, Hell, and Heaven. Most of all we focus on how we get to heaven or hell. So, the Gospel today is not really about marriage but about the resurrection of the dead. Unlike the Pharisees, the Sadducees, did not believe in the resurrection of the dead and so they are asking Jesus a cheeky question to make fun of belief in resurrection.

Jesus draws them back, however, to the real issue: How we live here will determine where we go after death. For the righteous, those who lived a good life here on earth, death will bring resurrection and life in heaven. Jesus is telling them that what we should be concerned about is how we get there. There is a map, directions, for getting to heaven and that map shows us the way, and that way is a person, Jesus. Jesus said: I am the Way. As we move toward the end of the year the readings remind us that we have a purpose in life and a destiny. Living as God wants us to live, caring for those God wants us to care for, being who God sent us into the world to be, these are the things that will bring us to the place God wants us to be – with Him, in Heaven.

If you ever go to Ireland and visit the great Rock of Cashel be sure to look for the “leper window.” The lepers stood on a balcony on the outer wall of the Cathedral but were able to look through the window and see the altar so they could attend Mass without being in the congregation with non-lepers. In fact, the people in the cathedral were unable to see the lepers and the lepers were unable to see the people. In ancient and medieval times having leprosy really meant that you were already dead – the walking dead. 

Leprosy was considered so infectious that the laws concerning lepers were extremely severe. Not only were lepers restricted from being in the company of non-lepers, they were also often removed to places that were remote, cut off, fenced in, and often guarded by watchmen. Lepers could have no trade, nor were they allowed to sell or give anything to others, so they were dependent on the charity of others to provide for their need such as food, water, clothing, whatever medicine was available. In many places, lepers were expelled from their villages, towns, and even their own homes and families. All their property, land, house, and valuables were confiscated, and they were removed from their loved ones. Lepers were no longer allowed to inherit anything, nor were they allowed to use their own family name. They were outcasts, without family, home, nation, without past or future. If they did travel on the roads, they were to call out to passers by that they were lepers, or they were to ring a bell, to warn people to keep away. Imagine never being able to see or touch your parents, your wife or husband, your children, and your loved ones. 

When Jesus heals the ten lepers all this changes for them, in fact, when He heals them Jesus quite literally gives them their life back. Suddenly everything that was taken away is restored. Now they could return home to their family, they could reclaim their inheritance, their name, their property, their family, and friends, they could live their life again in the midst of their loved ones. Jesus restores their life. Realizing what Jesus has done for him, out of ten, one leper returns to thank Jesus. God gives us so much, actually, everything we have, even our life itself, all gifts, in one way or another, come from God. It would be good to remember to give thanks to God.

As a priest and pastor, I get to see the generosity of God’s people every day. So today I am the leper. Today I want to thank all of you who have so generously given so much to make our parishes great places to be and great communities to belong to. The Kingdom of God is built by generous, faithful, and loving hearts. Everyday, I am fortunate to see the grace of God poured out through the kindness, compassion, good nature, and good will of so many wonderful people. Thank you! Thank you fall all you do, for all you contribute, for all the life and good you make possible. Your faith, your charity, your hope, makes life not only possible, but a joy to be a part of. Thank you!

My uncle Jim was a very fine man, he was gracious, kind, a hard worker, a good son and brother, and a great uncle. In his youth he was a talented musician and was self-taught to play the piano, he would sing at parties, and loved to spend time with my uncles, aunts, and his nieces and nephews. Like many in his generation he was a fierce drinker. When he was younger, he would go out to the pub with my grandfather and uncles on the weekend. He had a ritual which included stripping down to the waist, shaving and washing at the sink, combing the few strands of hair that he had, adding lotion and aftershave, and then dressing in a singlet, shirt, tie, and jacket. He was elegant. After my granddad died, my uncle Jim started to go out to drink during the week, at first, once or twice. He kept up his grooming regime but over time this ended, and he would go out drinking every night and at this stage he always drank alone. He remained kind and genial, but he was more guarded about his generosity. Eventually, when he retired, he would rise early and go to a pub and stay there until closing time. Then he would look for another late-night bar and spend his time there. Eventually he didn’t even go home, would find a place to sleep in a trailer, or store front, so that he was close to the pub when it opened. Toward the end he pretty much looked like a ragged, disheveled, down-and-out derelict. Actually, Uncle Jim was very wealthy and carried thousands of pounds around with him because he was always afraid he might not have enough for the next drink.

I guess this next part of the story happened when I was about fourteen years of age. A group of friends and I were going into the city to see a movie. This involved taking a bus into the city center and walking to O’Connell Street, the main avenue in Dublin city center. It must have been winter as the evenings were dark early, cold, and wet. Nevertheless, spirits were high. After the movie we crossed the street to get burgers at McDonalds. As we made our way to the bus we passed a lot of store fronts, many of which had recessed entrances. It was not unusual to see homeless people sleeping in these recesses, trying to get in out of the cold and the damp. Typically, all you saw was a figure wrapped in a pile of dirty blankets. As we came upon one such sad figure, I realized that I knew him. It was my uncle Jim! Here on the premier street of Dublin, in the cold, the dark, the damp, late at night, was my down-and-out drunken uncle, sleeping on the street. I didn’t know if he was alive or dead, sick, or hurt, in need of help or just sleeping it off. In that moment I my first thought was not for my uncle but was for my own image. I thought: “What would my friends think if they knew this was my uncle?” And so, I passed by and left him there.

I should have stopped, I should have at least checked that he was not hurt, I could have put him in a taxi and sent him home, I could at least have made sure he was alive. I can’t tell you the name of any of the four or five boys I went to the movies with that evening but at that moment what they thought of me was more important than taking care of my own uncle, my own flesh and blood, a man who had always been kind, generous and loved me. Of course, I was fourteen years old and more concerned with image than anything else. Nevertheless, even at fourteen years of age, reflecting on that incident, I determined I would never betray doing the right thing again.

We can allow lots of things to distract us from doing the important, essential, good, and loving things. The rich man in the Gospel never saw the poor man at the gate because he was blind. He could only see himself, his image, his fortune, his position, his status, was these were his major concerns in life. Looking only to his own best interests he couldn’t see anyone else. The people around us, wife/husband, son/daughter, mother/father, priest, neighbor, friend, fellow worker, people in need, whoever, don’t have to be destitute like Lazarus. The truth is that God has placed them at our “gate.” God asks us to care for them, help them, even love them. Everyone is rewarded by God for the love they share with others, and He will care for those who cared for His children.

It is now twenty-one years since the horrific and cowardly attacks of September 11, 2001. Anyone who lived through that day remembers it clearly, vividly, and with a great sense of sadness. Through the presence of all forms of visual media, we were able to have a front row seat and watch horrific things happening, in real times, as they say. However, as graphic and awful as these images were, it seems to me, that the more lasting memories, more impressive images, and the true sense of 9/11 was not captured by the horror, but by the honor. The honor of our brave citizens who knew that to give a life is always better than to take a life. To die saving someone is honorable, while to die killing the innocent is not.

On that terrible day, evil did its worse, but it did not overcome good. The image of dusty firefighters carrying limp bodies and injured people from the rubble; images of doctors, nurses, paramedics, on the streets cleaning wounds and bandaging the injured; the images of brave police officers, emergency personnel, and even ordinary citizens running into burning, crumbling, falling buildings to search and save men and women who were not strangers to them, but brothers and sisters. This is the heritage of 9/11. The image of priests, ministers, rabbis, chaplains, and even a cardinal, encouraging and praying with the brave, anointing the living, and providing rites for the dead were captured on that day. These images are the lasting true legacy of that terrible day.

These are the things God saw that day and these are the people God will remember and reward. For, even though we forget, God never forgets the good we have done, and He never tires of loving those who love.

Strangers become family

At his nomination for the presidency Abraham Lincoln gave what has become known as “The House Divided Speech.” He began with the following words: “A house divided against itself, cannot stand. I believe this government cannot endure permanently half slave and half free. I do not expect the Union to be dissolved — I do not expect the house to fall — but I do expect it will cease to be divided.” The “house divided cannot stand” part of this speech is taken from the teaching of Jesus. It is so important that it is quoted in three of the Four Gospels, Matthew, Mark, and Luke. 

Last weekend we celebrated Mass together as a Family of Parishes. We now gather under the title “Mary, Queen of All Saints.” Now we must begin the work of forming the many into one, while, at the same time, preserving the mission, dignity, character, and life of our unique communities. I think Mary, Queen of All Saints is a good patron to have because, while the Blessed Virgin is Queen and Mother of all the saints, as well as the apostles and disciples, she does not replace them. Rather, she encourages, accompanies, supports, and intercedes for them. Their mission remains necessary, unique, and essential. As parishes and communities belonging to a family, we can be different, unique, but we cannot afford to be divided. A house divided cannot stand.

So where do we go from here? Interestingly, Lincoln had something to say about that also. When considering his run for the presidency Lincoln was faced with the prospect of forming and leading a new party. His advice to his companions and promoters was as follows: “If we could first know where we are going and whither we are tending, we could then better judge what to do and how to do it.” To move forward we must first have a plan, a map, truly a vision. That vision should be big, bold, passionate. It should be passionate enough to attract people to it so that they want to be part of it. Can we do that? Can we formulate, articulate, and create such a vision? Can we bring to life a vision of hope, a vision of faith, a vision of compassion, solidarity, and love? Maintaining what we have is too small a vision – God expects more, and we need more. How we do that – well that’s our challenge. If we can envision where we are going, then, we can work out how to get there – together.

Jesus gives us some good advice as we begin our journey: Love God and love your neighbor as yourself. There will be many suggestions of what we should do, good ideas and maybe not so good. Quick fixes and slow deaths! I would like us to keep in mind that we should only ask of others what we would want them to ask of us. We should ask each other to do what we would be willing to do ourselves. Jesus asks us to first love one another and from love move forward. Jesus asks us to care for each other even though we might be strangers. The good Samaritan cared for a stranger and treated him as a friend, a brother, a sister, a member of his family. To be honest all families do this every day – a child is born and in that moment a stranger becomes the center of the family; a son or daughter marries, and a stranger becomes a son or daughter. That’s life! And how good it is! We are not strangers – we are family and families take care of each other. How do they do it? They find a way. Now, let’s find our way!

I was born in Dublin, Ireland, 14 January 1964. My parents are Gerry (deceased) and Martha. I have four siblings, David, Gerard, Deborah, and Stephanie, all living in Dublin. My sisters are identical twins. I have 11 nieces and nephews and two great nephews. I graduated from Scoil Fursa (Catholic Elementary School, Dublin) and Belcamp College (Catholic High School, Dublin) as well as All Hallows College (Dublin), The University of St. Thomas Aquinas (Angelicum, Rome), and the International Marian Research Institute, University of Dayton (Ohio). Ordained in Ireland 1993, I came to the United States for post-graduate studies. I became a citizen of the United States in 2000. After serving as a parochial vicar at Holy Angels, Sidney, Ohio for three years, I was appointed by Archbishop Pilaczcyk to the faculty of the Athenaeum of Ohio and Mount St. Mary’s Seminary in 2000. In 2011, I was appointed first recipient of the Daniel E. Pilarczyk Chair of Systematic Theology. In 2011 I was appointed by Archbishop Schnurr President of the Athenaeum and Rector of Mount St. Mary’s Seminary of the West. After completing my seven-year term as President/Rector I was appointed pastor of Our Lady of Victory July 2018. I began my new appointment as pastor of our parish family on the 1^st July 2022, which happens to be the feast of St. Oliver Plunkett, Archbishop of Armagh, a martyr – which seems appropriate. I have two  dogs name Blathene (Irish for Little Flower) & Dev, and three cats :Gail, Maggie, and Boo-boo.

Some people have asked about Mass schedules. At this time Mass schedules, for Sunday, Weekday, and Holy Days, for each parish remain the same. It may be necessary in the future to make some changes but that situation is not immediate and we will receive plenty of notice of any changes. 

“If someone offers you an amazing opportunity but you are not sure you can do it, say yes, then learn how to do it.” This is the advice of the incredible British entrepreneur, Richard Branson, surely one of the most successful, creative, and adventitious businessmen of our time. We are not always ready for the opportunities that present themselves to us. Sometimes we don’t know if we can accomplish what is expected, or even if we know what is expected or where the opportunity will lead or what it will demand. Today in the Gospel Jesus sent out seventy-two disciples, two by two, He sent them. Surely, they could not have known what that “opportunity” involved, where the road would take them, or the demands that it would make upon them. And yet, off they went! That took courage, faith, and spirit.

Almost two hundred years ago a small group of Catholic men, women, and children, began a community here on the westside of Cincinnati. They could not have known that that small little start would lead to such a great movement and Catholic presence. Not only are there the five parishes of our Family of Parishes, but many more in this small area, all growing from that courageous, faithful, and spirited group of Catholic immigrants.

What we have, who we are, and what we value, all began as an act of Catholic faith. Our courageous, faith-filled, tenacious, determined, ancestors, families, and parents, first built churches, then schools, then parishes, convents, hospitals, and then an entire catholic culture. Being catholic defined who they were. They were disciples of the Lord and had the courage to be Catholic, in a day, a time, and a country, where they were not always welcomed and embraced because of their Catholic faith. Here on the westside of Cincinnati, they had the courage to build a Catholic community, a Catholic presence, and a Catholic culture. Being disciples of the Lord, sent out, to build the Kingdom of God, being family, defined who they were and what they were about.

They began small but they dreamed big. Who could have known what was to come of their efforts? And here we are! Today, the task of going out two by two, the commission to build the kingdom of God, to be a light in the world, is passed on to us. It is our turn to have the courage, to be tenacious, to be faithful and faith filled. It is our turn to dream big and to build an even greater legacy. God has given us an amazing opportunity and we say “yes” to God for every gift we need to do what God asks of us God has already given to us. Together, we will form a vision, together we will move forward, together we are sent out by the Lord, and together we have the potential to make a true difference for everyone. “Don’t be afraid” the Archangel Gabriel said to our beloved Mother, “for with God all things are possible.” Like Mary, all we have to do is say yes to God and great things will happen.