“Call” is a loaded word in Catholic conversations. It is often used narrowly in reference to the specifically celibate summons to priesthood or religious life. Only occasionally do I hear laypeople discuss the work they do in terms of “call” and almost never have I heard a married person speak of his or her marriage in those terms. And yet, marriage is one of the two sacraments of vocation to which many are summoned by forces as mysterious and compelling as any other, and it is the source of every other blessing in the church.

In a profound sense, however, baptism is the ultimate sacrament of vocation, for it is under this sign that we acknowledge the “call” to be followers of Jesus and to journey with him along the way to new life. The call to be disciples trumps every other summons we may hear, and unless we incorporate each additional decision into that vocation, we find ourselves within a variety of awkward relationships, career directions and moral choices.

The stories of “call” appear throughout the Bible as if to demonstrate for us how it is done. Abram finds his call revealed to him in a starry sky. Moses is startled to recognize his call in a burning bush. Ruth experiences her summons through the love she bears for her motherinlaw. Elisha has a cloak thrown across his shoulders and understands at once that something incredible is being asked of him. One thing is for sure: When the call comes, however it comes, it is immediate, it is all consuming, and it is life changing.

And Jesus tells us, “Don’t look back.” Elisha was unusually fortunate to be given even a few hours to say his goodbyes to his family and to provide for them one last minute. He didn’t know what the summons would entail or where the journey would take him. All he knew was the identity of the one who called him. Evidently that was enough. He followed Elijah meekly into the pages of scripture and became known as the prophet with double the portion of his mentor’s authority.

Saint Paul describes the call of Christ as a summons out of slavery and into freedom. The worst thing we can do after receiving this freedom is to refuse to use it or, conversely, to squander it. It would be like receiving a double portion of grace and using it up in front of the TV. What constellations of possibility are open to us in the Spirit and how little do we make use of these opportunities?

Each of us is called! Few hear that call, like the voice of God calling in the night. Usually, we discover our call, like Elisha, while doing other things. For most of us our call comes as a persistent, inner prompting that can be easily drowned out by the lure of money, power, security, or fame. But we will never be totally happy until we hear and respond to our “innermost call.”

Discernment, learning to hear God’s call, is a skill every Christian needs to cultivate. What am I doing to cultivate the call in my own life and to help others to listen, hear and follow the promptings of God in their hearts? Do I work at making a friend, being a friend, and then bringing that friend to Christ?

DeColores!

Fr. Al Backmann

As we enter the month of May, we look to the rest of the Easter season that will culminate with the Ascension of Jesus into heaven and the sending of the Holy Spirit nine days later on Pentecost Sunday, which we will celebrate on May 15th this year. So, I would like to write about the “Power of the Spirit.”

One of the most pressing concerns to confront the modern person is the quest for meaning in our everyday lives. Psychiatrists and pastoral counselors indicate that a great majority of those who come for help are seeking meaning in their lives. It is never enough for us to just exist. We need more than food, clothing, and shelter. Because we as humans have an intellect and spirit, we need to find some meaning or reason for living. Because we are made in the image and likeness of God, we are restless until we find ultimate meaning in our lives. That is, all of our life is a search for God. Until we rest in God, we will continue to be “on the move” going from distraction to distraction.

Life becomes an endless escape. We can try to escape in our work, we can try to escape in seeking after pleasure, and we can try to escape in seeking material goods and status. However, these escapes are short lived. Eventually we must pay a call on ourselves and see who answers. We must face the kind of person we have become through our free decisions. We must take responsibility for the things and people we have loved and found meaning through them.

The Christian life is just that – a way of life. To be a Christian is a way of living in the world – valuing, judging, and finding meaning. To be a Christian is to live out a whole new structure of existence. The old order has lost its power over us. The Christian is not conformed to the world, but labors, through the Spirit, to renew the face of the earth. The Christian life is one that has found meaning – lasting meaning through living a personal and communal relationship with Jesus Christ.

The restlessness and anxieties of the day are not eliminated. The daily struggles and trials are all too present. The daily failures are real. But through all of this, the presence of Jesus, through the Spirit, sustains and gives us courage. Through the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, the fears and anxieties of daily life have lost their ultimate power. This is the truth that sets us free!

Pray often the words, “Come Holy Spirit! Come!

Fr. Al Backmann

For many of us, one of the most unforgettable parts of the Vietnam War was a picture. It showed a little girl, with arms outstretched, running down a road, weeping. She was almost naked. Her clothes had been burned away by a napalm bomb. Years later, we learned the little girl’s name was Kim. She was only nine years old at the time.

The bombing raid on her village had been set up by an American officer named John Plummer. He thought it was occupied only by military personnel. When he saw that picture, it devastated his mind and broke his heart. The image of that burned child was with him night and day. He tried to find escape in a bottle. But of course, that did not work. And after the war, he sank deeper and deeper into the despair of alcoholism. It cost him his wife and family and what little self-respect he had left.

Later he married again, became a Christian, and also a Methodist minister. Slowly his life began to return to normal but always there was the haunting image of that burned and weeping little girl. Then one day in June of 1996, the two met face to face. Kim was a grown woman, and Plummer was a middle-aged man. The former military officer sobbed out his shame, saying over and over again, “I am so sorry.” The once burned child said, “It’s all right, I forgive you.” And the two of them embraced. Plummer said that for the first time in a long time, he was free. It was like being let out of prison. He had been forgiven.

That is a story of healing. The American officer had lived with his shame for twenty-five years. It had almost ruined his life. The pain evoked by the picture of that little girl was never far from his mind. No doubt, friends tried to help him feel better. They may have pointed out that he was just doing his job. His country was at war, and it was his duty to help. And he did not intentionally target the child. In fact, he did not even know she was there. His information said that there were no civilians in the village. So it was not his fault. He should not be blaming himself. But all of that did not help. Nothing helped until he heard that little girl say, “I forgive you.”

There is another story about forgiveness in the gospels that we just heard during Holy Week. It is about Peter. He was a man consumed with shame and guilt. He had disavowed his friendship with Jesus. Worse yet, he had done it at the time when Jesus was most in need of a friend. It was a cowardly and inexcusable deed. At the realization of what he had done, Peter went somewhere by himself and wept like a child. He was an utterly dejected man. But all of this was changed, by one conversation with Jesus, when he was freed from his guilt. Peter found healing for his hurts through the forgiveness of Jesus – and so can we.

This is the year of mercy and the first Sunday in April is Divine Mercy Sunday. Let us reflect on God’s great mercy and forgiveness towards us as we place our trust in Him. And just as Peter and John Plummer found healing in forgiveness, so we will find healing and forgiveness if we approach Jesus, telling him that we are sorry and to hear Jesus say to us, “It’s all right, I forgive you.” Thank you Jesus!

Fr. Al Backmann

News of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ is too good to be true! It was hard to believe from the very first moment when the women rushed back to tell the disciples, “He is risen!” Thomas later had to put his fingers into Jesus’ side before he fell to his knees exclaiming, “My Lord and my God!”

Today, two millennia later, the reality of this confirmation of God’s love for us is still hard to believe. That’s why many have tried to find a way to disprove the story. They claim Mary went to the wrong tomb. They say those who saw Jesus were hallucinating. They say Jesus’ body was stolen or moved by the authorities. They say Jesus was not really dead when they laid him in the tomb.

Yet, the historians say no other document from the ancient world has been backed up by such excellent testimony. The resurrection of Christ is better authenticated than most of the facts of ancient history. The facts are that the Roman seal was broken – a large stone was rolled away – the tomb was empty – and Roman guards ran away. Jesus left his burial wrappings folded on the bench and, finally, that Jesus appeared to many, including more than 500 people at one time.

If the resurrected Jesus were to stand before us today, how many of us would still need to come closer and inspect the wounds? Jesus said, “Blessed are those who have not seen, and yet have believed.” We are an “Easter people” and A lleluia is our song. In countless congregations around the world on Easter day, pastors and preachers will be citing this declaration made almost 15 centuries ago by Augustine of Hippo as an expression of Easter joy.

But declaring our joy and enunciating our faith in Jesus’ resurrection is one thing. Living these realities in their fullness in our day-to-day lives is clearly another. Living as risen beings here and now also means living free from fear. If we truly believe in the resurrection of Jesus, we must renounce all fear. Fear must never again be the motive for anything we do or do not do. Fear enslaves those who welcome it. At various times and in a variety of ways, we fear deprivation, boredom, loneliness, failure, and suffering. But at the root of all these fears, is the fear of death.

Without our belief in the resurrection, death is the utter end of everything; it is the absolute loss. But through baptism into the dying and rising of Jesus, death is the absolute gain. It is, in effect, a passage into the realm of eternity where we shall live as risen beings forever. It is in our faith in the risen Christ that “we too shall rise” with Him in the glory of the Resurrection!

Have a Blessed Lent and a Happy Easter!

Fr. Al Backmann

In the days before the Second Vatican Council, if my memory serves me right, Catholics took the season of Lent quite seriously. It was a season focused on self-discipline, expressed especially in the rigorous 40-day fast and abstinence period for adults, and for children, in giving up candy or some other desira-ble object. The season was also marked by devotions at church, especially the Stations of the Cross.

            After the Second Vatican Council, Pope Paul VI changed the rules on fast and abstinence calling on all Catholics still to do penance throughout the season of Lent, as well as on every Friday of the year, but to choose penances that were ap-propriate to their individual lives and circumstances.

            Unfortunately, many Catholics still saw their religion as a matter of obedience to laws, so they only heard that the law set them free from fasting. Combined with the increasingly overscheduled lives we lead, this has resulted in many Catholics going through Lent with minimal involvement in this season of repentance and renewal. For many, it is just like the rest of the year with different songs at Mass perhaps, but not much else noticeably different. So, what should we do?

            What is the Church’s official position concerning pen-ance and abstinence from meat during Lent? In 1966, Pope Paul VI reorganized the Church’s practice of public penance in his “Apostolic Constitution on Penance.” Not long after that, the U. S. Bishops applied the canonical requirements to the practice of public penance in our country. To sum up those require-ments, Catholics between the ages of 18 and 59 are obliged to fast on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. In addition, all Cath-olics 14 years of age and older must abstain from meat on Ash Wednesday, Good Friday, and all the Fridays of Lent.

            Fasting, as explained by the U. S. Bishops, means partaking of only one full meal. Some food (not equaling anoth-er full meal) is permitted at breakfast and around midday or in the evening, depending on when a person chooses to eat the main or full meal. Abstinence forbids the use of meat, but not of eggs, milk products or condiments made of animal fat.

            In his “Apostolic Constitution on Penance,” Pope Paul VI did more than simply reorganize Church law concerning fast and abstinence. He reminded us of the divine law that each of us, in our own way, do penance. We must all turn from sin and make reparation to God for our sins. We must forgive and show love for one another just as we ask for God’s love and for-giveness.

            We are also reminded by our bishops that during Lent we not only fast as penance but also that we pray, do almsgiv-ing and works of charity. Wouldn’t it be nice if we attended Mass daily or several times a week, making the way of the cross, help out at a soup kitchen, visit the sick and shut-ins and other personal acts of charity during Lent? All of these can be even more meaningful and demanding than simply abstaining from meat on Friday. Just a thought.

Fr. Al Backmann

Although darkness can be very soothing and romantic as well, it can also be very frightening. We lose our way in the dark – we bump into things – we cannot perceive what or who might threaten our safety. The phrase “under the cover of darkness” suggests some manner of deception. In our vulnerability, we instinctively reach for the light switch.

The opposite of darkness is, of course, light. With it we are able to find our way – we can perceive rightly – we feel more secure. Scientific tests have shown that we may need darkness to sleep, but we need light to live. Darkness and light almost universally symbolize negative/positive polarity. Isaiah uses darkness to refer to the gloomy plight of Israel as it seeks to recover from the exile – and light when he speaks about hope of future restoration. It should be noted that this is no ordinary light. It is the glory of God that encircles the nation, transforming it so that, in its turn, it will act as a light for others.

The weekend readings for the beginning of January focus on “epiphanies” – occasions when the glories of the Lord are revealed. We can identify with Isaiah’s description that the earth is covered in darkness and thick clouds cover the peoples. Yet, we have been promised a light that will shine through the darkness and guide the nations. Where do we find examples of the light?

“Nations shall walk by your light,” says Isaiah. Our world is in conflict. This prophesy has yet to be fulfilled completely. And yet its promise is something that we can long for and work toward. Where do I see examples of a light that guides the nations? How about a light that guides my community? A light that guides me?

Because the Magi were following a star, they had to travel at night. Where in my life and ministry do I feel I am traveling in darkness, trying to follow the light?

The Magi were “overjoyed at seeing the star.” They must have waited a long time for direction. When I get such guidance from God, am I willing to take off in a new direction?

Today, it seems, people are all looking for direction, and yet no one wants to be told what to do. Where do I find a guiding light in my life? What star guides me on my own spiritual path?

The epiphany or manifestation of God, celebrated on this feast, is frequently characterized by some form of illumination: the glory of God shines – the mystery is made known – the star, the light which served to point the way through darkness.

And who is it that is illumined? Who is called out of the darkness? For whom is the good news of Bethlehem meant? Everyone! According to Isaiah, the glory of God will shine through Israel onto the other nations. The psalm echoes this.

According to Paul, gentiles are co-heirs of the revelation. According to Matthew, the Magi from the East follow the star to the child. The incarnation illumines us all – so that through us, God can turn on the light for others. Let us all go forth and be a “light to the world.”

Have a blessed New Year. God loves you. Fr Al Backmann

Do you remember your grade school report cards? Maybe you’d rather not, and then again, you may still have those straight A’s taped somewhere in a scrapbook. Do you remember the “conduct” section? Items in the conduct section vary from one school to another, but one item shows up on almost every school’s report card. It says something like, “Uses time well” or “effectively.” As I remember, even those kids whose other behavior was nearly perfect, occasionally got check marks in that column. (Of course I remember from seeing other kids’ report cards, not mine.)

All three of our readings on the First Sunday of Advent talk about time, and the second and third readings really zero in on the idea of using time well. The Gospel passage in particular has sometimes been used to try to scare people into religion and straight living. We hear statements like, “Don’t entertain jealous thoughts,” for example, “because Jesus might return right in the middle of them, and then you’re doomed.” Well, fear isn’t exactly the best motiva- tion for a loving relationship with the Lord, but there are a couple elements of truth and reality about time that we need to be reminded of now and then.

Even though it’s only the First Sunday of Advent, stores have already been pushing Christmas at us for over a month. They keep saying, “Think gifts – think gifts – and buy them here!” OK, let’s do it. Let’s think of gifts, and let’s think of one in particu- lar that we’ve all received, although nobody bought it, and nobody can: the gift of time. Time is like air; we’re always in it and we can’t function without it, but we seldom think of it, unless we’re in a hurry for something, or unless we wish we had more of it. We seldom think of it as a precious gift. An old proverb says, “Nothing is more precious than time, yet nothing is less valued.” But it is God’s gift to us. It is the greatest of all gifts. The next time you check the time, remember to say thanks to God for it. “Thanks God, for time; thanks God, for life.”

The second reminder we need about time is this: We don’t have an unlimited supply of it. It really will run out. Now this is not to scare you, yet, we need to get straight with the Lord because we may have a sudden meeting with Him. Time does run out, not just on life as a whole, but also on parts and periods of our lives that can’t be repeated. We must “use it, or lose it.” Lost opportunities and wasted time can never be recovered. So, let’s “think gifts” and use our gift of time well, and one of the best ways to use that gift is to give it away. Who in your life could use the gift of your time today?

Have a great Advent. God loves you!
Fr. Al

November 1st is the Feast of All Saints. It is a feast of encouragement celebrating the fact that all of us are called to be saints. The biblical meaning of “saint” is a person who is trying to live a life of holiness for the Lord. Our modern idea has restricted the term to those who are in heaven. The feast focuses on the intercession of the saints in heaven for us who are still on earth. Just the same, we still use the term “Communion of Saints” to refer to the union of all members of Christ in the Church: those here on earth, those in purgatory, and those in heaven.

And we must always see our “Communion of Saints” in the context of Christ. Only through Christ, with Christ, and in Christ do we have communion with each other and with the saints in heaven. So, we shouldn’t visualize our relationship with the saints as their being so many functionaries through whom we must go to get to Christ. Our relationship with the saints is a circle, not a hierarchical bureaucracy. The saints intercede for us, just as we intercede for each other.

The “communion” or “fellowship” which we have with each other comes from our union with God. We don’t come together to form a community and then begin to worship. Rather, we come to worship, and by that worship, we are formed into a community. The life goal of all truly great people like the saints has been the vision of God.

That vision is hope. It is a hope that can give life a meaning as well as a great goal. The reality of hope is shown in the Christian’s striving for virtue. All who have this hope based on Jesus, make themselves pure, as Jesus is pure (1 Jn 3:3). By imitating Him who is pure, the Christian is already beginning, but only beginning, to live the rewarding and glorious life with God.

Epitomizing this, as well as the content of the beatitudes, is the well-known prayer attributed to St. Francis of Assisi:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace --- let me sow love, pardon, faith, hope, joy.

Grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console---to understand, to pardon, to love.

This isn’t something only for great spiritual mys- tics. It is the life to which we have all been called. It’s what makes the saints God’s noblest creation. It’s the way of the privileges of the Christian life and the possibilities of the Christian life to which we are all called.

To achieve it means being as single-minded as the saints in pursuing the goals of life. This is what all of the saints have in common. That in dying to self, we are born to eternal life.

Fr. Al 

October is respect for life month. It is a month where we step back to reflect on the condition of our hearts and of society’s heart. It is a time when we need to defend all human life, from conception to natural death. It is a time to welcome into this world the newly born among us. It is a time to say, “Dear Baby, I hope you enjoy the wonders of this world. It is cool – and you will experience great things like moms and dads, people and God, delicious food, life, many seasons, candy, friends, sports, toys, grandparents and a huge family of love.

That is what makes our human life in this world possible: our enjoyment of family and friends and good things. “Welcome!” This is the welcome we receive from parents who lovingly accept God’s gift of children. That human welcome echoes God’s own welcome during our human lives.

Yet, we know that every year in our country, tens-of-thousands of babies are deprived of that welcome into life through abortion, the cruelest refusal to welcome God’s gift of new life into our world. It’s not as if there were no adoptive families or material resources for all these children, because there are. The lack of room, the lack of love, is in the human heart. It is in unwelcoming hearts, in hearts made small and shriveled by a society that exalts selfishness above self-sacrifice.

It is personal selfishness and national selfishness that leads to the kind of injustice, greed, luxury and pleasure that St. James condemned in Chapter 3:16. When you have such injustice, murder is close at hand: murder of the unborn, potential murder of the dying and the vulnerable; murder of the best in- stincts in our human nature.

If law and medicine can authorize the killing of the unborn child, then what logic can forbid law or medicine from destroying life at any other point in its development? Destruction of the life of the incurable people in mental institutions, of the chronically or terminally ill, of the elderly, and many others, who may be regarded as a burden on society, becomes a terrifying possibility. For we live in a time and in a society where those who are unwelcome are in danger of death.

The Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life, is our only hope to empower us to respect, cherish, and defend all human life, from conception to natural death. “Come, Holy Spirit, come, fill our hearts and create in them the self-giving way of living that can renew our respect for life.” Help us to say to all life, “Welcome!”

The four most important words said at Mass everyday are, “This is My Body.” The four words that abortion advocates use are, “This is my body.” Scary, isn’t it? Something to think about.....

Always remember how much God loves you!
Fr. Al Backmann

Imagine you and the Lord Jesus are walking down the road together. For much of the way, the Lord’s footprints go along steadily, consistently, rarely varying the pace. But your footprints are a disorganized stream of zigzags, starts, stops, turnarounds, circles, departures and returns.

For much of the way, it seems to go like this, but gradually your footprints come more in line with the Lord’s, soon paralleling His consistently. You and Jesus are walking as true friends! This seems perfect, but then an interesting thing happens: your footprints that once etched the sand next to Jesus’ are now walking precisely in His steps. Inside His larger footprints are your smaller ones; you and Jesus are becoming one.

This goes on for many miles, but gradually you notice another change. The footprints inside the large footprints seem to grow larger. Eventually they disappear altogether. There is only one set of footprints – they have become one.

This goes on for a long time, but suddenly the second set of footprints is back. This time it seems even worse! There are zigzags all over the place – stops – starts – gashes in the sand; a variable mess of prints. You are amazed and shocked. Your dream ends.

Now you pray:
“Lord, I understand the first scene with zigzags and fits.

I was a new Christian. I was just learning. But you walked on through the storm and helped me to learn to walk with you.”

“That is correct.”

“...and when the smaller footprints were inside of yours, I was actually learning to walk in your steps, following you very closely.”

“Very good. You have understood everything so far.”

“...when the smaller footprints grew and filled in yours, I suppose that I was becoming like you in every way.”

“Precisely.”

“So, Lord, was there a regression or something? The footprints separated and this time it was worse than at first.”

There is a pause as the Lord answers with a smile in His voice.

“You didn’t know? That was when we danced!”

To everything there is a season – a time for everything under heaven: a time to weep, a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance. Yes, we are asked to dance. Don’t forget to dance with the Lord. And remember who leads!

Fr. Al Backmann