I have the suspicion that we aren’t nearly hungry enough to truly appreciate what Jesus is doing for us. Things have changed so very much for us since his day.

In 2020, the USDA calculated that we spent 8.6% of our income, on average, for food. Consider that in 1900, just 120 years earlier, we spent 43% of our income on food. It was harder to produce, even though half of the country worked in agriculture, because mechanization of farms hadn’t happened yet. A horse and a plow to sow, a team of horses and a combine to harvest, home production and yet other horses and wagons to move to market just couldn’t compete for efficiency with our tractors, combines, food factories and trucks. Food preservation also was expensive. Many of our modern methods of lengthening the shelf life, and safeguarding from bacteria and spoilage hadn’t been discovered. Pickling, smoking, drying and salting, all available at the time, were labor intensive and required expensive ingredients.

For most of human history, life was hard and food was expensive. People were shorter, much thin- ner and vulnerable to sickness, and lived shorter lives. We duly credit advances in the medical field for our longer lifespans now. Many medical anthropologists, though, recognize that the greatest positive advance in lifespans was due to readily available and affordable calories.
Yes, the very bane of our modern waistlines, ready access to delectable, sweet or salty, crunchy or creamy calories, relates to our expanded lifespans. For the overwhelming majority of us there simply is no need to be hungry. We are far less likely to starve because of famine, than dieting. I’m not sure we can appreciate how topsy-turvy this is from earlier ages.

What Jesus did for the crowds in today’s Gospel was a stunner for the people involved. It’s amazing enough that a crowd that included 5,000 men all had a bite to eat. It’s something else, altogether, to say that this hungry, emaciated sickly crowd all “ate and were satisfied.”
Our Savior wants to feed us, desires to nourish our spirits with His very Self, given in the form of simple bread, and the celebratory drink of wine. Are we hungry enough to appreciate what He wants to do? And that is before we get to the utter sacredness of God’s outreach to us in this manner. Not only is Holy Communion nourishment. It’s God.

But it all seems too easy, doesn’t it, and perhaps too often? If we spend a great deal in the presence of anything “special,” it can begin to lose its luster. I can remember a scuba trip I went on, where lobster was the main course, I kid you not, every dinner for a week. By day four, I wanted nothing so much as a chicken breast. And here we are, on a daily basis if we want it, able to receive the Creator of the Cosmos.
Frankly, we have to work on keeping the Eucharist in the place it needs to be in our lives. We have the obligation to be alert to the intention and aware of the Eternal Consciousness that accompanies Communion

My Dear Parish Family,
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During the Easter Season the Second Reading is taken from the Book of Revelation. In today’s verses we hear John describe his vision of “the holy city of [the new] Jerusalem coming down out of heaven from God.” Many of us have a picture of what heaven might be like. In a commentary I recently read, it was defined this way: “Heaven is being in the presence of God. Nothing else matters.” I began reflecting on moments in my life that approached this definition:

• Cradling my infant granddaughter asleep in my arms, breathing in her baby scent…at that moment  nothing else mattered.
• Relaxing on a patio with good friends after a good meal, no need to talk as we watched the sunset over the Pacific Ocean…at that moment nothing else mattered.
• Enjoying the breeze and the babbling fountain in our parish church courtyard on a quiet weekday, then noticing someone in need being kindly and gently interviewed by a member of our St. Vincent de Paul Society in that peaceful place…at that moment nothing else mattered.
• Watching former RCIA seekers, now fully initiated Catholics, process forward on Sunday to receive Eucharist, one with the Body of Christ…at that moment nothing else mattered.

I believe that these simple moments are gifts from God and little foretastes of heaven. The commonality in all of them is love, peace, and hope. Such moments give us a glimpse of the love and peace that Jesus promises in today’s Gospel. They encourage us to keep our eyes set on the heavenly kingdom…and to strive to build that kingdom on earth. 

Dear Faith Family,

Any decent human being knows that it is important to care for others. We have heard it so many times, that if we were to treat others in a different way, we would feel guilty about it. We are indeed called to love our neighbor. We are made in God’s image, therefore, we are made to love.

What does it mean to love, though? While it is in our nature to love, sometimes it is difficult to articulate what it actually means to love. Pope Benedict explained the nature of love when he said, “Love is ‘divine,’ because it comes from God and unites us to God.” To give a further explanation, St. Thomas Aquinas states that love is simply to will the good of another. If we take these two quotes from two brilliant people, we can come to the conclusion that God is love, and we have the ability to love because we are made in God’s image.

With all that said, love shows itself in unique ways. I think it is intended to be that way. The idea of loving someone is not a one­size­fits­all situation, but rather, it is through our creativity and nature that we show ways to love.

In this Sunday’s Gospel, Jesus gives a new commandment, to love one another. He takes it further and explains that this is how people know that you are disciples. Our parish motto is, “Encounter Jesus, Be Disciples.” It’s quite a simple statement, but it is important that this must be driven by love. Without love, discipleship is meaningless and self­-serving.
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I’m not naïve enough to say that loving others is difficult; our Lord even gives a bigger challenge in scripture when he proclaims that we should love our enemies as well as our neighbor. The Apostles themselves were afraid to go convert the masses before the Holy Spirit descended upon them. It’s difficult, but the endeavor is vastly important.

Dear Friends,

This Easter season, I have been thinking about the resurrection of Jesus and what it means for us 2000 years later.  Additionally, I’ve been considering the evidence for Jesus’ resurrection having happened.  We don’t have any eyewitness accounts in the Scriptures of Jesus’ actual rising from the dead.  But we do have the empty tomb, the testimony of the women who encountered the angel there, and the apostle’s accounts of the Risen Jesus appearing to them.  Of all the post-Resurrection stories, I think the one from today’s gospel is the one I love the most: the barbecue on the beach after an eleventh-hour reprieve from a night’s fishing that yielded nothing, and the opportunity for Peter to repent of his threefold denial by declaring his love for the Lord three times.  

The instructions (feed my lambs) that follow Peter’s expressions of love are meant for us, too, and that leads me to what I think may be the most convincing evidence for Jesus’ resurrection: the vibrant, loving Church, of which we are all a part, still ministering today, feeding the Lord’s lambs, with the help of the Holy Spirit. 

Still, one cannot deny that there is evil in the world, even within the Church, and that can be discouraging, perhaps obscuring the truth of the Church as the Risen Christ’s Body.  The fourth verse of Bob Hurd’s “Two Were Bound for Emmaus” that we are singing at liturgy today may be helpful:

When the road makes us weary, when our labor seems but loss,
when the fire of faith weakens and too high seems the cost,
let the Church turn to its risen Lord, who for us bore the cross,
and we’ll find our hearts burning at the sound of his voice.

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Dear Parish Family,

If you are anything like me, it’s so easy to get sidetracked on our many tasks and can lose track of time. Even more so when we may be doing something you really enjoy, such as reading a good book, binging on Netflix or sleeping in the morning. My alarm clock is my best tool to make sure I am up in the morning and where I need to be on time. To help me manage my time on my busy days when I have time­ sensitive tasks, I recently started to use the alarms on my cell. Since I have begun this new habit, I get my most important tasks done on time, and on occasions I surprise myself that I may have some time to spare. I bring this up only because I think that at times we need tools to help us, to make sure we are awake and alert to what comes next.
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In our Gospel today, Peter and John and James went with Jesus to the mountain to pray. Yet while Jesus prayed, his disciples fell asleep. Had they not woken up on time, they would have missed seeing Jesus in his Glory. They would not have heard God’s voice say, “This is my chosen Son; Listen to him.” It was through God’s grace they did wake up on time, and were able to experience Jesus’ Transfiguration. They were given the opportunity to see his divinity.

Our lives can be like this, where we too fall asleep, letting everything else distract us and not keep us from recognizing Jesus is always with us. God desires us to see him, but we must be willing to see. During the season of Lent, through the practices of Fasting from food and habits, Prayer and Almsgiving, can be like our alarm clocks to “wake up.” Through these practices they can lead us to see and feel Jesus more clearly and to listen to what he tells us. As we fast, and experience hunger, it awakens our awareness of the hunger and needs of others. As we pray, especially with the scriptures, we learn to hear God’s voice and his desires for us. We learn to see Jesus in our brothers and sisters; through almsgiving we seek to meet their needs. “What you do for the least of your brothers, you do for me.”
God gave us the Transfiguration to let us know what we have to look forward to at the end of our lives. We know that after we’ve done our best down here on earth — at the bottom of the mountain — and if we die in a state of grace, we can look forward to seeing Christ in all His glory, as He was at the Transfiguration. Only after we go through this difficult life, can we enjoy the glory of Easter.

I have a new tree in my backyard. It has multiple fruits grafted onto it, including plums, apricots, peaches and one other stone fruit that I have forgotten, perhaps nectarines, all selected for their ability to self-pollinate and grow in our warmer climate. We’ll see if this works. I was told that if the major trunk comes to dominate on the tree, the other varieties will die off, so I have to prune it carefully. After it was planted, it was clear that two of the varieties had begun to dominate in growth already. I have no idea, which ones yet, as the tree came without leaf or fruit on it. So, I read everything I could find on the internet on pruning this tree correctly, and watched YouTube videos on the subject, both done in Australia, curiously. With trepidation, I took pruners in hand and did my best to restore some balance, and prepare the tree for spring growth. I admit that I am fearful that I cut off too much.
      Within just the last couple of days of my writing this, though, the first white blossoms have opened on some of the branches. I’m getting hopeful that there might be fruit in my future. Again, we’ll see, but it’s hopeful.
       And that is the point of my story. You do your best, and then you hope. 
       You try, and try hard, and then you hope.
       You fail, even, and you pick yourself back up, and you continue to hope.
     You’ve all made the best health choices you could in these last two difficult years. We’ve all had our hopes disappointed with ongoing waves and total and partial shutdowns. And yet there are signs, early and yet still hopeful signs, with falling infections rates, easier symptoms, fewer hospitalizations, etc. Perhaps this time things will work out.
       Might there be reason to hope?

we were to recycle right back into a new wave of infections, perhaps pi, or rho, or sigma? Both Delta and Omicron were surprises. It could happen, dear Lord forfend! What would we do? We’d hope for the future, and carry on.
     On the other hand, this could be the beginning of something better, even if not entirely as things were before, but much more open and less constrained. Truth to tell, none of us know. But we have dealt with hard times, and we have endured. We have had losses, real and painful, but we have survived. In essence, like my fruit tree, we’ve been pruned. There could be hard times ahead, but we are hardened. We aren’t weak. We can do this. We can hope.
    I encourage you, in light of today’s Gospel, that we need to bear fruit under both good and bad circumstances. Whatever happens, please do not become disheartened. Be a person of faith and hope. As 1 Peter 1:6-7 says, “In this you rejoice, although now for a little while you may have to suffer through various trials,  so that the genuineness of your faith, more precious than gold that is perishable even though tested by fire, may prove to be for praise, glory, and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.”

Dear Faith Family,

One of my favorite things to experience is when I have the realization that our liturgies work seamlessly with each other. I especially enjoy when the readings have themes that have correlations that are impossible to ignore.

This Sunday’s second reading is quite striking and it is indeed true. If Christ has been raised from the dead, how can we ignore the promise that we will be raised as well? It’s a pretty direct message and it is quite powerful. God always keeps his promises, even those that we perceive to be impossible.

This Sunday’s Gospel fits perfectly with this idea. As humans, it is impossible to avoid suffering. We all have encountered the poor, hungry, weeping, etc., but I feel that it is safe to say that we have experienced these things as well. A lot of us have experienced times in our lives where it seems impossible that God is present.

When we experience these things, we can sometimes correlate them with death. When we are downtrodden with nowhere to look, it may feel like a glimpse of death. Our Lord helps us to see that although the pursuit of suffering is not something we should do, there is somehow blessing in our most difficult times.

Death is something that is not desired, but it is inevitable. But if Christ preaches perfect life after death, love still somehow conquers. If love conquers the unconquerable, God is not only present in the pleasant parts of our lives, but he is equally present in the difficult parts. What an amazing message that our God preaches. He is there, at all times, even when it is hard to see Him.

Notice though, that the theme of these readings aren’t “just be happy!”. God is simply letting us know that He is there, even when it seems like no one is. His love is eternal, not faltering when things become difficult. God meets us where we are, and we are truly blessed to have a God who will never fail in loving us, even in situations where we find it most difficult to love others or ourselves.

​These past 2 years have been hard, but on reflection, hopefully we recognize the God that conquered death has been present the whole time and he continues to be present to this day. 

Dear Friends,
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In our second reading today, St. Paul, still addressing the community at Corinth (we’ve been hearing excerpts from his letter to them for a few weeks now), writes of handing on to them what he also received, that is, the Good News: “that Christ died for our sins…that he was buried; that he was raised on the last day…” After detailing many who actually saw the Risen One, he says that he too saw him, last of all, because as one who persecuted the church he is “the least of the apostles, not fit to be called an apostle”. He goes on to credit God’s grace for who and what he (Paul) is, for the effectiveness of his ministry, and for the toil he has put in to preach the Gospel.

His frank humility brings to mind the prophet Isaiah in the first reading. After seeing a vision of the Lord on his high and lofty throne with angels “stationed above” crying out “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts! All the earth is filled with his glory!” Isaiah believes he is doomed for being a sinner who has seen the Lord God. But one of the seraphim touches his lips with a burning coal from the altar and says “your wickedness is removed, your sin is purged.” He then answers the call of God “Here I am, send me!” Angels are God’s servants of course and are therefore agents of grace for the prophet Isaiah and for St. Paul.
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Then, in the gospel, after Jesus fills the nets of fishermen who labored all night with no catch, Simon Peter recognizes that this is miraculous, and like Isaiah says “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.” But Jesus tells him not to be afraid because from now on he (and the other apostles) would be catching people – again, by the grace of God.

Isaiah with his unclean lips. Paul who sought out and killed Christians. Simon Peter, a simple fisherman. All of them recipients of God’s grace, but always with a task of bringing the message of salvation to their people, to God’s people.
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Is it any different with us? I think not. We are to “hand on what we also received” by the grace of God, the Good News of Jesus Christ. Here’s one way of putting it: “Your Creator loves you. Your life has meaning, and you’re going to live forever. If you can find a better deal, take it!”​

​When applying for a graduate teaching program after college, one of the interview questions centered on my favorite Gospel story that relates to teaching. Relying on my years in Catholic elementary and high school, I suggested Jesus’ parable of the mustard seed. As educators, we plant small seeds and nurture them to grow into marvelous things!

Before staying home with our three children, my wife was also a Catholic school teacher and principal. In her office was a quote by William Butler Yeats that read, “Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire.” We light small sparks that will grow and bring light and warmth to those who surround it.

I share these anecdotes this week as we begin the celebration of National Catholic Schools’ Week – an opportunity to recognize the tremendous achievements of the 5,981 Catholic schools across the United States. Catholic schools are where students are able to learn, serve, lead, and ultimately succeed. Seeds are planted and sparks are lit every single day in our Catholic schools.

I feel so tremendously blessed to be principal at our very own Catholic school at St. Mary Magdalen here in Camarillo. It is a privilege to work with a dedicated and enthusiastic faculty and a tremendous honor to partner with amazing parents in the education of their children. It is with these teachers and parents that seeds are planted and small sparks are nurtured.

I am certainly proud of the academic achievements of our students and especially proud of our entire community for prioritizing the importance of in-person instruction for our students over the course of the COVID19 pandemic. Seeing parents, teachers, and students overcome obstacles that at times feel insurmountable over the past two years plant seeds of inspiration and sparks of hope!

We help our students to grow and flourish in so many ways, but I truly believe the most important seeds we plant and the flames we fan are that of our students’ faith. To be able to start every day in prayer, celebrate Mass together once a week as a school community, and openly talk with students about our shared Catholic faith is something I most enjoy about my job and something that sets our school apart from others. We prepare students to not only be productive citizens of this world but also develop them to one day be citizens of heaven.

The work that we do is something that cannot be done without your prayers and support and to my fellow Padre Serra parishioners, I offer humble words of deep gratitude. Your generosity over the years allows us to continue to grow and thrive. This is your school community and you are such an important part of the educational journey and faith development of all our children.

Dear friends on the journey,

As I write this in mid-January in ordinary time, I still have a bit of the post-Christmas “blues” that come after the sights, sounds, and smells of the magical holiday have been tucked away for another year. I miss the rainy cold weather that has given way to slightly warmer, windier days. I long for the feel-good stories of generosity and gift giving to strangers. Christmas brings out the collective goodness of humanity, when we care a little more for others, when we offer more kindness, and attend to the needs of the poor, hungry, and vulnerable. Various memes encouraging us to keep Christmas going by feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, caring for the ill, welcoming the stranger, extending forgiveness…essentially the corporal and spiritual works of mercy. 

I was drawn to the words in today’s gospel “bring glad tidings to the poor.” During my reflection, I kept thinking of the Christmas carols singing about “tidings.” The Ignatius Catholic Study Bible offers this translation, “preach the good news to the poor.” This is what the Incarnation is about…God coming among us in the person of Jesus to bring tidings, the good news, to the poor, which is really all of us. At some time in our lives, we have or will experience poverty whether it be financial, material, health, intellectual, emotional, or spiritual. It’s inevitable. But part of Jesus’ good news is that God is with us through it, that God walks with us, providing comfort, strength, and hope that poverty and darkness will become abundance and light. 

Being in this weird place of still holding onto Christmas and looking forward in ordinary time, those simple memes are our reminder to live the spirit of Christmas through the corporal and spiritual works of mercy. How might you continue the spirit of Christmas, not just today but all year? How might you extend a work of mercy to another? How might you be Jesus for someone in poverty? 

Here at Padre Serra, we have an opportunity to do just that. Our new Racial Justice Ministry has partnered with Friends of Fieldworkers, a local organization whose mission is to “befriend, celebrate and support families of fieldworkers in Ventura County” for a special project. 

While our winters are mild, we cannot escape the cooler temperatures, especially at night. But you can provide warmth and comfort for our local farm workers and their families by donating a new blanket or sleeping bag next weekend. Simply drop it in one of the collection boxes before or after Mass next weekend or in the parish office by February 4.  ​

Dear friends on the journey,

​Well, it is officially 2022! Another crazy year is in the books. I hope you experienced more celebrations of life and love than turmoil. Though I know for many among us, 2021 brought heartbreaking loss and grief. Please be assured of my prayers and the support of our parish family as you navigate a new reality in this coming year. I pray this New Year brings us more joy than sadness, more peace than conflict, more wonderment than weariness, more God centeredness than worldliness.

Today’s readings for the Feast of the Epiphany are rich with so many messages. We could focus on the theme of gifts. As the Magi brought gifts to the baby Jesus, we can discern the gifts we offer to Jesus using our God­ given talents, abilities, and gifts for the betterment of our families, neighborhoods, parish, and the world.

We could reflect on the theme of light as the prophet Isaiah describes the Lord’s light that will break through the darkness to shine upon and guide all peoples. The Magi followed the brightest star in the sky, trusting the light would lead them to something wonderful. We could ponder what or whom lights our path. Is it Jesus in his Eucharistic and sacramental presence? Is it God’s Word? If it’s not, should it be?

The theme of unity could be a topic of conversation. Epiphany means manifestation and so the first and second readings and the gospel speak of Jesus’ manifestation in his birth as a gift not just for the Hebrews but also the Gentiles, including the Magi who traveled to pay homage to Jesus. People from all nations and generations are now “coheirs, members of the same body” (Eph 3:6). How can we be more inclusive?

In preparation for this litter, I used the practice of Lectio Divina in order for the Holy Spirit to guide me. What was God calling me to hear in that space and time? The phrase that stood out to me, or the echo, was “having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they departed for their country by another way.” God spoke to them and they listened. Such wisdom and trust to follow God’s prompting!

How do we listen for God? First, we must acknowledge God’s ever presence, desire for us, and constant communication with us. Once we grasp this, the next step is attunement, slowing down to become aware of God’s voice and nudges. God speaks in many ways: prayer, dreams, nudges other people and situations. I am becoming particularly aware of God’s nudges and shoulder taps, those promptings to take action, to do for others. It might be something as simple as paying for the order of the person behind you in a drive­-thru; calling a loved one just to say hello; making eye contact with the homeless person; bringing up the neighbor’s garbage cans. How do we listen to God? Well, simply put it is responding to God’s shoulder taps by stepping out and just doing it. You cannot go wrong with kindness and generosity. 

Dear Friends,

Today, with all the sounds, sights, smells and tastes of Christmas fresh in our minds, we celebrate the Feast of the Holy Family, and well we should. Never has there been such a family where dad is a saint (but he did consider divorce), mom is the (unwed) mother of God, and Jesus – well, he is divine (and an illegitimate child by the human standards of the time). The scriptures tell us that Jesus advanced in wisdom and age and favor. Today’s Gospel tells us of the wrenching experience for Mary and Joseph of discovering that their precious boy has somehow gone missing on the trip back from Passover in Jerusalem. They find him in the temple back in Jerusalem after searching for an entire day among their relatives and acquaintances and three more days in Jerusalem. Can you imagine their anxiety? And Jesus response to them seems markedly un­apologetic (though the Gospel also says that he went with them back to Nazareth and was obedient).

I think most of us have heard something like “God writes straight with crooked lines.” That idea is often (rightly, I think) invoked as reassurance that our weakness, lack of courage, and sinfulness will not ultimately frustrate God’s loving plan. But I also think it can help us get a more balanced view of the Holy Family when we think about Jesus’ human ancestry. See the beginning of Matthew’s gospel. Jesus’ human forbears included wonderful people, but also included ordinary people, and some bad people: thieves, adulterers, murderers, and the like. Fr. Ron Rolheiser, writing about Jesus and the Holy Family as an example of God writing straight with crooked lines, quotes theologian Raymond Brown:

“The God who wrote the beginnings with crooked lines also writes the sequence with crooked lines, and some of those lines are our own lives and witness. A God who did not hesitate to use the scheming as well as the noble, the impure as well as the pure, men to whom the world harkened and women upon whom the world frowned – this God continues to work through the same mélange. If it is a challenge to recognize in the last part of Matthew’s genealogy that totally unknown people were part of the story of Jesus Christ, it may be a greater challenge to recognize that the unknown characters of today are an essential part of the sequence.”​
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So I’d like to suggest that on this Feast, we find encouragement and the inspiration, perhaps, to re­commit ourselves to our baptismal promises, conscious that not only can God save humanity in spite of all our imperfections, but that God can – and will – create something new and beautiful. Even with us. Even in our families with all of their beauty and all of their ... everything else. For a long time, it has been Catholic church teaching that we are all called to holiness, nothing less. The call is universal and the call is irrevocable. No one is exempt, no matter how humble or exalted they may be. It’s rooted in our baptism and in the Paschal Mystery that we celebrate at every Mass.