Fr. Brian Soliven Sermons

Last weekend we kicked off the beginning of our Faith Formation year with free pastries and surgery confections. I’m always amazed how doughnuts and coffee bring joy to our hearts. Thank you to the hard work of Martha (our coordinator for our Religious Education program), her assistants, Armida, and Sr. Laura, and the rest of the volunteers. We have an amazing community here at St. Mary’s of selfless and hardworking parishioners. At the same time, we also had a fundraiser for Our Lady of Guadalupe celebrations on December 12th. We sold over $2,500 worth of tacos. Our Lady of Guadalupe is one of our biggest endeavors here at the parish. We will easily welcome nearly 5,000 people. Your continued generosity makes it all possible; without you, none of this would happen. 

Why do we do any of this? Is it simply to be a welcoming place for visitors or eat more calories? As important as those things are (especially doughnuts), these questions actually point to a deeper reflection of why we exist as a parish family. Let’s imagine a scenario. Someone comes up to you, knowing you go to Mass each Sunday, and they ask you, “Why does St. Mary’s exist? What is the mission of your church?” What do we say? Having the correct answer to this question provides a clarity of vision for one’s Christian life. If we could ask St. Paul himself, who’s letter to the church in Philippi that we heard in our second reading today, this same question, how would he respond?  “For me life is Christ, and death is gain…. I long to depart this life and be with Christ that is far better.” (Cf. Philippians 1:20-26). 

Look at the simple beauty of his answer! For St. Paul, the purpose of life is Jesus Christ. Nothing more, nothing less. Everything in his life is built around living for Christ, growing in Christ, and yes, sometimes, even dying for Christ. Now let us go back to the original question that I began this little reflection: What is the purpose of St. Mary’s? It is Jesus Christ. All that we do as a parish family is to worship him  “with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.” (Cf. Matthew 22:37). That is why we have Faith Formation classes. That is why we celebrate Our Lady of Guadalupe. That is why we live. If anything we do as a parish that does not point to Jesus Christ, we cut that away. Jesus Christ is the sole purpose of our existence. 

In today's Mass, we hear that "seven demons" were cast out of Mary Magdalene. It makes us wonder, what is the purpose of demons anyway? Renowned Exorcist, Fr. Carlos Martins, asks this very question when he performs exorcisms: For what purpose were you created? The answer they give is the original intent of God for these spiritual beings. However, they rebelled against their design and became part of the legion of fallen angels. In this sorry state, they take on a new, darker purpose. 

We can easily believe the lie that we have to be perfect before we can even walk into a church. Not here at St. Mary's. We're a place for sinners who are tired of trying to satisfy our deeper thirst with the saltwater of the world. We want sinners, who desire to be saints. 

The 2nd Century Christian writer Tertullian, famously wrote, "The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church." During those early centuries of our history, being a Christian often meant death. Violence was the favorite weapon of our enemies to cower us to renouncing our faith in Jesus Christ. However, it had the opposite effect. The bravery of our ancestors only inspired others to join "the Way." The same dynamic is beautifully witnessed in more modern times in the Catholic Church of South Korea. Today, we recall the Saints Andrew Kim Tae-gŏn, Paul Chŏng Ha-sang, and their heroic companions. They shed their blood in that country, making way for one of the fastest growing churches in Asia. "The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church." 

¿Cómo queremos ser recordados cuando muramos? Cuando finalmente llegue nuestro fin, las palabras que la gente dirá sobre nosotros serán nuestro legado. Las historias que la gente contará sobre nosotros serán un testimonio de cómo vivimos. ¿Qué dirán? El fue amable. Era un padre amoroso. Sacrificó su vida por el bien de la familia. ¿Era una persona de profundo amor por Jesucristo? Era un cristiano fiel. San Pablo, en la segunda lectura de la Misa de hoy, habla del corazón del asunto. “Hermanos: Ninguno de nosotros vive para sí mismo, ni muere para sí mismo. Si vivimos, para el Señor vivimos; y si morimos, para el Señor morimos.” (Cf. Romanos 14:7-8).

Él está hablando aquí del misterio de nuestro bautismo. Cuando el agua fría fluyó sobre nuestras cabezas y el sacerdote dijo las antiguas palabras: “Yo os bautizo en el nombre del Padre, del Hijo y del Espíritu Santo”, nuestra vida eterna cambió para siempre. Pasamos a ser parte del cuerpo de Jesucristo de una manera radicalmente nueva. Fuimos incorporados a él. Un cristiano bautizado se une íntimamente a Jesús, hasta el punto de que él vive en nosotros y nosotros en él. Otra forma de pensar en este gran misterio es imaginar dos piezas de cera derretida fusionándose. Ése es el trasfondo teológico del que habla San Pablo. Intensificaría este significado en su Carta a los Gálatas, cuando escribió: “Vivo yo, ya no yo; vive Cristo en mí”. (Cf. Gálatas 2:20). 

How do we want to be remembered when we die? When our end finally comes, the words that people will say about us will be our legacy. The stories that people will tell about us will be a testimony to how we lived. What will they say? He was kind. He was a loving father. He sacrificed his life for the good of the family. He was a person of deep love for Jesus Christ? He was a faithful Christian. St. Paul in the second reading in today’s Mass, speaks to the heart of the matter. “No one lives for oneself, and no one dies for oneself. For if we live, we live for the Lord, and if we die, we die for the Lord.” (Cf. Romans 14:7-8). 

He is speaking here of the mystery of our baptism. When the cold water flowed over our heads and the priest said the ancient words, “I baptize you in the name of Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit”, our eternal lives were changed forever. We became part of the body of Jesus Christ in a radical new way. We were incorporated into him. A baptized Christian becomes intimately united to Jesus, so much so, that he lives in us, and we, in him. Another way of thinking about this great mystery is to imagine two pieces of melted wax infusing together. That is the theological background of which St. Paul is speaking about. He would intensify this meaning in his Letter to the Galatians, when he famously wrote, “It is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me.” (Cf. Galatians 2:20).

We're all experts at hiding from our wounds. We have our go-to bottles of alcohol; we buy more things. We run from silence. You name it. Regardless of how we cope, the result is always the same -- ignore the pain. Jesus wants to heal us. Yet, he uses the most unusual, counterintuitive path. He uses a piece of wood. 

If people despise you because of your faith, it's a sign you're living your Christianity well. In today's Gospel, our Lord tells us directly, "Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude and insult you, and denounce your name as evil on account of the Son of Man. Rejoice and leap for joy on that day!" (Cf. Luke 6:20-26). 

In today's Gospel, we witness Our Lord calling the 12 Apostles for the first time. For the first century hearer, this detail is life-changing. It means only one thing -- the ancient prophecies are being fulfilled. 

El miércoles pasado, agregamos un nuevo horario de Misa, durante la semana, a las 6:30am. Esperamos brindar una oportunidad a las personas que deseen recibir a Jesús en la Eucaristía antes de ir a la escuela o al trabajo. Con nuestro antiguo horario de Misas, lo hacía difícil que fueras a Misa si tenías una mañana ocupada. Revisé las iglesias católicas locales, desde Dixon hasta Fairfield, y la situación era la misma. Si querías llegar a tiempo al trabajo o a la escuela, ir a Misa no era una opción. No tenía idea de si alguien vendría a la iglesia tan temprano durante la semana, pero quería al menos brindarte la oportunidad de ir, si así lo deseas. Cuando llegó el miércoles, me pregunté si había sido una mala decisión. Cuando el reloj marcó las 6:20 am, la iglesia estaba prácticamente vacía.

Dejé caer la cabeza decepcionado. Terminé de vestirme de todos modos, pensando que, si al menos 15 personas se presentaban, sería un buen comienzo para un nuevo horario de Misa. Cuando tocamos la campana para señalar el comienzo de la Misa, me quedé sorprendido. ¡El número de personas en la iglesia había aumentado repentinamente a 46! ¡Era el primer día! ¿Por qué estas personas hicieron el sacrificio de levantarse temprano y perderse de dormir? AMOR. Ésa es la única razón por la que hacemos cosas difíciles por el bien de otro. Todo padre que haya tenido que despertarse a la media noche para atender a un bebé que llora lo sabe. Todo padre que se levanta temprano para ir a trabajar y poder alimentar a la familia lo sabe. No hay amor sin sacrificio.

 En la portada del boletín de este fin de semana, tenemos fotografías del viaje misionero a Perú que realizaron algunos de nuestros jóvenes. Gracias a la generosidad de muchos de nuestros feligreses que compraron postres durante la recaudación de fondos que tuvimos hace unos meses, pudieron pagar un porcentaje enorme de los boletos de avión. ¿Por qué un grupo de nuestros jóvenes se tomará un tiempo de sus apretadas agendas, volaron a un país extraño donde no hablan el idioma y ayudaron a completos desconocidos? AMOR. No hay amor sin sacrificio.

 En la segunda lectura de hoy, San Pablo anima a los cristianos de Roma: “Amarás a tu prójimo como a ti mismo.  El amor no hace nada malo al prójimo; el amor, pues, es la manera de cumplir la Ley.”  (Cf. Romanos 13:10). Este es el corazón del significado más profundo de la vida. Muy a menudo buscamos un propósito, buscamos significado, buscamos más. La cultura nos dice a menudo que el significado de felicidad es comprar cosas o placer corporal. Me atrevo a decir que no. El sentido de una vida más plena sólo se encontrará en un amor más radical. Amar cristianamente, es dar la vida por el bien del otro. Esto siempre requerirá que me muera a mí mismo. Pero eso está bien. No hay amor sin sacrificio. ¿Ahora ves por qué no hay mayor acto de amor que Jesús muriendo en la cruz por la humanidad?