This Friday, July 22nd, the Church remembers St. Mary Magdalene -- the first to witness the resurrected Jesus after his death. Watching her example, we can find meaning with the little "deaths" we all endure. It's a cold fact that we all suffer, like Mary did. We often ask why? What possible meaning could my pain offer. This saint shows us the hidden gift our tears can bring. 

Each Christian is a missionary. The moment the cold water was poured over heads at our baptism and the solemn words were prayed, "I baptize you In the name of Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit", we were thrusted into battle. We are called to announce the Good News of Jesus Christ to all those we meet. However, we must ask ourselves, "what is the best way to attract more souls." In the Gospel, Jesus gives us a clue in the famous Parable of the Good Samaritan. Remember, we do the world no favors by living like everyone else. 

So it begins. My first weekend commences as the pastor of St. Mary's Vacaville. I'm eager and excited to see what the Lord wants to do here at this parish. Even my sister drove all the way here to come to my first Mass and support her little brother.

One thing is for certain -- if I do my job well, Satan will be terrified of this place. As priests, we're tasked to transform sinners to saints and peons to prophets. To take what Original Sin has sundered and reconcile it back to our Heavenly Father. I want the demons to warn each other, "Don't go to that part of Vacaville! The Christians there are too strong." If we cling to the Lord, I guarantee you, they will quiver in their hooves at the mere sight of us. 

It's amazing how fast time blazes. Six years go by like six quick breaths. As God calls me to another part of his vineyard to preach the Kingdom of God, I leave you with these parting words which echo the words of St. Paul in the Second Reading -- "For freedom Christ set us free." (Cf. Galatians 5:1). Only in choosing the harder path of the cross will we ever find the true and authentic freedom we all thirst for. 

***Please stay listening to the last few minutes after the homily for an ancient Greek hymn that was sung as we prepared the altar for the holy Eucharist***

"It was as if the walls of the church exploded outwards and disappeared... like I was suddenly dropped in the middle of the Pacific Ocean." He struggled for words to describe what happened as he knelt in Eucharistic Adoration. The consecrated host was placed in an elaborate glimmering gold monstrance, which as Catholics we believe is literally Jesus Christ. It's one of the hardest teachings we have. No wonder it's one of the causes of the great fracturing of the Christian family between Protestants and Catholics for the last 500 hundred years. Once we see "it" however, everything changes. 

This past January, I flew out to Tallahassee, Florida for my yearly retreat. Each priest is required by Church law to take a breather from parish life to spend a few days in prayer with the Lord. The retreat was entitled, "Holy Desire: The Path To Freedom." I was not expecting much, to be honest. The title was a tad cheesy and generic like when a chain restaurant proclaims, "We have the best chicken wings in the world!" Sure you do.

Yet despite my renitence, something truly amazing happened. Those five days in Florida changed the trajectory of a life. 

The Christian has an impossible mission -- to proclaim Jesus Christ and convert the world. Before he sends us, he must empower us. On Pentacost Sunday, the promise is finally fulfilled as a divine force falls from Heaven. We receive fire. 

Behind the smiles we can all carry tremendous burdens. Often in the silence of our pain, we cry out to God and hear nothing. "Where are you Jesus?" We often wonder. But that is the wrong question for the Christian to ask. You see, we have the Holy Spirit dwelling within us. The Third Person of the Trinity lives in you and me. Rather, we should be asking ourselves when we face the darkness, "What can I do to bring God in this moment?" How can I move the needle closer to Heaven rather than hell? 

Never forget this important fact: Nothing, absolutely nothing in this world can fill the void you feel. This frustration is by design. It was put there at the dawn of your creation, woven if you like, into the fabric of your soul. Your hunger for an insatiable "more" is a heavenly anguish. It tells us resolutely -- you are made for love, by love, to live in the very source of love -- the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. 

"If God would answer your deepest prayer, what would it be?" I mass texted this very question to parishioners, many devout, not so devout, protestant pastors, non-Christians, young, old, single, and married. I wanted a broad swath of humanity represented. As the answers came flooding in, a common thread quickly emerged. When you hear it, you won't be surprised in the least.