Fr. Brian Soliven Sermons

***Stay tuned to the end of the homily. There's a bonus track from our Sunday @2pm Latin High Mass***

As the school year ends, students rejoice!  Newly minted graduates reflect upon their diplomas and hard earned degrees, parents exhale a sigh of relief, as the low hum of our air conditioners battle the onslaught of the Vacaville summer. St. Mary’s now shifts into high gear. Baptisms quadruple. Quinceaneras abound, with their big, colorful puffy dresses. A beautiful bride and a dapper groom will march down our center aisle, practically each Saturday for the next few months. In the midst of all these busy activities, I want to call your attention to three in particular: the Mother/daughter (ages 10-17), the Vacation Bible School for First graders all the way up to Seniors in high school, and the a day retreat lead by Catholic evangelist and speaker, Jesse Romero. All the details can be found in the parish bulletin and St. Mary’s website. I’d like to invite all of you to consider signing up for these activities. Why? 

The answer is in our Gospel reading this Sunday. Jesus tells us that the Kingdom of God is like a “Seed.” As anyone knows who’s ever tried to care for a houseplant or grow a vegetable garden in their backyard, it requires work. Our faith is like a delicate seed. It requires effort to make it flourish. It needs water, fertilizer, the correct amount of sunlight, and yes even attentive love. If neglected, this “seed” of which our Lord speaks of, can wither and die, just like a plant. Every single one of us has the Kingdom of God planted in all of us that we received when we were baptized. That’s when our spiritual relationship with Jesus began. It’s nourished each time we receive Jesus in the Holy Eucharist in state of grace, it’s watered when the Holy Spirit descended upon us from Heaven at our Confirmation, like the rains from above. This precious faith in us must be cared for. Jesus says, “To what shall we compare the kingdom of God or what parable can we use for it? It is like a mustard seed that, when it is sown in the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on the earth. But once it is sown, it springs up and becomes the largest of the plants and puts forth large branches.” (Cf. Mark 4:30–32). 

I want to be that kind of plant. I want to be that kind of Catholic, strong, mighty, courageous, and most of all, a passionate lover of Jesus Christ that bears much fruit. If you are a mother of a daughter between the ages of ten and seventeen, I invite you to the mother/daughter program on June 30th. If you are in school, from the first grade all the way to senior in high school, come to our Vacation Bible School in July. If you are Catholic, thirsting for more, come to the day retreat with Jesse Romero on July 30th. Let’s strengthen this divine “seed” in us. Now is the time to be holy!

This morning in the first reading, Elijah stands alone versus four-hundred and fifty false prophets of a demon. The odds are always against the faithful when you look over the history of the Church. Those who choose fidelity to God's commandments will consistently be outnumbered. 

Imagine this scenario: a stranger walks up to you on the street and asks, “If you were to die today, how do you know if you will go to Heaven?” It’s a thought provoking question. Oftentimes, if you’ve gone through our parish baptism classes for parents and godparents of the child, I immediately begin with that question. It’s meant to peak one's curiosity and wonder about the bigger picture of the meaning of life. If I were to die today, how do I know I would go to Heaven? It’s another way of asking, how am I saved? The most common answer I get after over a decade of ministry as a priest, in all the parishes I’ve had the honor of serving, is this: I am going to Heaven because I am a good person. 

This answer is a fantastic start; it provides an opportunity to take a deeper step into another fascinating question, how do we know what is good? Who determines what is right or what is wrong? Who defines the terms? In 2005, then Cardinal Josef Ratzinger, on the eve of the election that would eventually elect him pope, gave a famous homily to the other cardinals gathered from all over the world dealing with this foundational question. He said, “We are moving toward a dictatorship of relativism which does not recognize anything as for certain and which has as its highest goal one’s own ego and one’s own desires.” In other words, we live in a culture that has lost a sense of any objective truth. In fact, to speak of truth, is to be labeled a fanatic or a fundamentalist. This modern ethos can be summed up with the famous quip, “What is true for you, is not true for me.” Who defines what is the meaning of “good?” I do. 

This tendency of ours to be the definers of truth is actually biblically ancient. The first reading we heard at Mass today points to where all of this mess happens, God scolds Adam, “You have eaten, then, from the tree of which I had forbidden you to eat!”(Cf. Genesis 3:11). This tree is described in the previous verses of the same chapter, “For God knows that on the day you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will become like God, knowing good and evil.” After this Original Sin, man removes God as the standard of objective and moral truth and replaces it with himself. Human history has been limping on ever since. 

Cardinal Josef Ratzinger would remind us in the same homily of the Christian response to humanity’s death spiral: “We, however, have a different goal: the Son of God, the true man. He is the measure of true humanism. An "adult" faith is not a faith that follows the trends of fashion and the latest novelty; a mature adult faith is deeply rooted in friendship with Christ. It is this friendship that opens us up to all that is good and gives us a criterion by which to distinguish the true from the false, and deception from truth.” Now let us return to the initial question I began our reflection, “If you were to die today, how do you know if you will go to Heaven?” The only correct answer is Jesus Christ. His blood has paid the price for my sins. Now my life must be lived in humble obedience to his definition of what it means to be good.

In perfect harmony, the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Heart of Mary beat as one. United in love and will, they reveal how our hearts should be conformed. 

As you drive into the center of Paris from the airport, a dramatic scene unfolds before you. Standing on a hill, a brilliant white marbled, domed edifice arrests your attention. It's the famous church of the Basilique du Sacré-Cœur de Montmartre. It's a monument to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. For the millions of tourists and pilgrims that enter into that magnificent church each year, it reminds us of one, often forgotten reality -- God is good! 

Hay una enseñanza determinante que separa a la Iglesia Católica de todas las demás iglesias de la ciudad. Creemos que cada vez que vamos a Misa, un profundo milagro ocurre ante nuestros propios ojos. El pan desabrido y aburrido y el vino de sabor barato se transforman literalmente en “el cuerpo, la sangre y el alma de la divinidad” de Jesucristo. Nuestro Señor se hace plenamente presente en la Eucaristía, pero oculto tras la mera apariencia de ese “pan” desabrido y el aburrido y “vino” barato. Tanto es así que, como católicos, nuestro vocabulario incluso cambia después de que el sacerdote dice esas palabras que han hecho eco durante más de 2.000 años de historia hasta ahora: “Este es mi cuerpo… Esta es mi sangre”. Ahora nos atrevemos a decir “hostia” y “sangre preciosa”.

 Este domingo, toda la Iglesia en todo el mundo celebra esta gran y alucinante enseñanza. ¿Cómo podemos penetrar este misterio? Una forma de abordar esta enseñanza es recordar el domingo pasado cuando celebramos otra enseñanza difícil: el hecho de que Dios es una Santísima Trinidad. Dios es comunión de amor, de Padre, Hijo y Espíritu Santo. Tú y yo somos creados a imagen de la Trinidad, como nos recuerda el Libro del Génesis en el capítulo uno. El amor desea unirse con el amado, por su propia naturaleza. Por lo tanto, Dios desea unirse también a mi cuerpo, no sólo a mi espíritu. Mi cuerpo es una parte integral de quién soy. Si este Dios Trinitario quiere ser uno conmigo, mi cuerpo debe ser parte de ese amor radical.

 Nunca podré olvidar el momento en que me di cuenta de que Jesús estaba realmente presente en la Eucaristía. Ha cambiado completamente la forma en que vivo mi fe católica. En el invierno de 2002, yo era un pequeño estudiante universitario en UC Davis. Una hermosa joven me invitó a acompañarla al Centro Católico Newman, a una cuadra del campus: “Esta noche tendrán adoración eucarística”. Ella dijo. "¿Te gustaría venir conmigo?" En ese momento, no tenía ni idea de qué era la “adoración eucarística”. Apenas estaba empezando a tomar más en serio mi fe católica. Todo lo que sabía era que una chica hermosa, con los ojos muy abiertos, de la que estaba enamorado, me estaba invitando a la iglesia. ¡Por supuesto que dije que sí! Era joven y tonto, pero no idiota. "Cuando una mujer bonita te pide que vayas a algún lado, ¡siempre dices que sí!" Ese era el proceso de mi profundo pensamiento intelectual en ese momento. Cuando entré a la pequeña capilla de ladrillo, el lugar estaba lleno de otros estudiantes universitarios. No tenía idea de lo que estaba pasando. De repente, empezó a sonar música y el sacerdote caminó por el pasillo principal con algo en las manos. Todos se arrodillaron. Como buen chico católico, imite a los demás. Cuando el sacerdote pasó a mi lado, una lágrima cayó de mi ojo derecho y rápidamente me sequé. Cuando llegó al altar, puso todo lo que llevaba en las manos (que luego supe que se llamaba custodia), en el centro del altar. Mientras contemplaba esta extraña visión, cayó otra lágrima, y ​​otra y otra. Las compuertas se abrieron de golpe. Durante los siguientes quince minutos, me desplomé en sollozos como un bebé. Pero estas lágrimas fueron de gritos de alegría, no de dolor o tristeza, sino del reconocimiento de que el pedazo de “pan” que he estado recibiendo desde que era un niño pequeño, era Jesucristo mismo. Ese día me di cuenta de que no hay nada más grande en la tierra que recibir a mi Señor y Salvador durante la Santa Misa. Ninguna cantidad de dinero, ni placer, ni honor, ni cosa material, se puede comparar con el amor que Jesús nos ofrece. Ese día, toda la motivación de mi vida pasó de los placeres mundanos a la de un amor que sólo se puede encontrar en el “santísimo cuerpo, sangre, alma y divinidad” de nuestro Señor y Salvador.

For most of us, every time we pass a cemetery a wave of sadness can hit. Understandably so. Yet for us Christians, what tempers our broken hearts is the one doctrine that has been mocked throughout the ages -- the resurrection of our bodies. We get new, glorified bodies. Remember the resurrection, the next time you pass a graveyard. It will change everything. 

There is one defining teaching that separates the Catholic Church from all the other churches in town. It is our belief that every time we go to Mass, a profound miracle happens before our very eyes. Bland, boring bread and cheap tasting wine, are literally transformed into “the body, blood, soul of divinity” of Jesus Christ. Our Lord becomes fully present in the Eucharist, yet hidden behind the mere appearance of that bland, boring, “bread” and cheap, tasting “wine.” So much so that as Catholics, our vocabulary even changes after the priest says those infamous words that have echoed over 2,000 years of history up until now,, “This is my body… This is my blood.” We now dare say “host” and “precious blood.” 

This Sunday, the whole Church throughout the world celebrates this great, mind-boggling teaching. How can we penetrate this mystery? One way to approach this teaching is recall last Sunday when we celebrated another difficult teaching, the fact that God is a Holy Trinity. God is a communion of love, of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. You and I are created in the image of the Trinity as the Book of Genesis reminds us in chapter one. Love desires to unite with the beloved, by its very nature. Therefore, God desires to unite himself with my body as well, not just my spirit. My body is an integral part of who I am. If this Trinitarian God wants to be one with me, my body must be a part of that radical love. 

I can never forget the moment I realized that Jesus was truly present in the Eucharist. It has completely changed how I live my Catholic faith. In the winter of 2002, I was a wee little undergraduate at UC Davis. A pretty young lady invited me to come with her to the Catholic Newman Center, a block away from campus: “They’re having Eucharistic adoration tonight.” She said. “Would you like to come with me?” At the time, I had no idea what “Eucharist adoration” even was. I was just starting to take my Catholic faith more seriously. All I knew was that a beautiful, wide-eyed, girl that I had a crush on, was inviting me to church. Of course, I said yes! I was young and dumb but I wasn’t an idiot. “When a pretty woman asks you to go somewhere, you always say yes!” That was my deep, intellectual thought process at the time. When I walked into the small brick chapel, the place was packed with other college students. I had no idea what was happening. All of a sudden, music started playing, and the priest walked down the main aisle carrying something in his hands. Everyone kneeled. As a good Catholic boy, I followed along. As the priest walked by me, a single tear fell from my right eye which I quickly wiped away. When he made it to the altar, he put whatever he was carrying in hands (which I later learned was called a monstrance), on the center of the altar. As I gazed upon this strange sight, another tear fell, and another and another. The floodgates burst open. For the next fifteen minutes, I collapsed in sobs like a little baby. But these tears were of cries of joy, not pain or sorrow but in the recognition that the piece of “bread” I have been receiving since I was a little child, was Jesus Christ himself. That day I realized there is nothing greater on earth, then to receive my Lord and Savior during the Holy Mass. No amount of money, or pleasure, or honor, or materialistic thing, can compare with the love that Jesus offers us. That day, the entire motivation of my life shifted from one of worldly pleasures, to that of a love that can only be found in the “most holy body, blood, soul, and divinity” of our Lord and savior.   

Anyone who tries to walk the Christian path knows it's not easy. Suffering and trials will surely come, just as the spring rains fall. It's precisely in the struggle where God can do his finest work. 

Sooner or later, the wise person will ponder, “Who am I?” It’s a fantastic question. “Who am I?” How someone answers that question determines the course and direction of one’s life. It affects the decisions I make, what I do with my time, and by what values I strive to live. For example, If I say my deepest identity is  that I am a loving husband and father, that will change how I spend my Friday nights. No longer can I simply go to the bar and get drunk or go to the nightclubs with my friends. I cannot simply spend my money without any thought of my responsibilities. As a husband and father, my duty first and foremost is my wife and children and their wellbeing. Friday nights revolve around them, the way the earth revolves around the sun. 

So again, I must ask, “Who am I?” If I simply go along with what the godless world tells me, the answer to that question is nothing spectacular. I am simply, according to my high school biology teacher, an evolved primate. I am a smart monkey with an iPhone. I am a byproduct within a chaotic universe, devoid of meaning or forethought. At best, I am a cosmic accident that poofed into conscious existence. Who am I? I am nothing. If I answer this question in such a way, the purpose of life becomes myopic and wholly self-centered. It has no greater meaning than what I say it is. I dare say, with such a view of life, it will never satisfy the longing of the human heart. We are created for more and we know it. 

“Who am I?” St. Paul gives us an alternative answer to this pivotal question: “But you, brothers and sisters, are not in darkness…. For all of you are children of the light and children of the day. We are not of the night or of darkness.” (Cf. 1 Thessalonians 5:3-6). He reminds us of our true identity. We are not smart monkeys, bereft of meaning. Rather, the truth of who we are is more radically extravagant than we can possibly imagine. We are sons and daughters of our Heavenly Father. This Father of ours created the entire universe. Now, he longs to give us something even greater, the Kingdom, the new Heavenly Jerusalem. He sent his very own Son to die for our sins, out of pure love for us, so that we may share eternal life with the Most Holy Trinity. When answering that question in this way, watch how it changes the course of our lives.