Cold Drinks, Questions, and Christ

Here we are: we have reached the climax of our celebration. For the past seven days, we have journeyed from the Lord Jesus' triumphant entry into Jerusalem, to the final hours of His life, His death on the Cross, to this: the glory of the Resurrection. The glory of the Resurrection that it so beautifully described in the Easter Exsultet as “the night that even now, throughout the world, sets Christian believers apart from worldly vices and from the gloom of sin, leading them to grace and joining them to his holy ones.” Resurrection is so often described as the goal of Christian life, the promise made by Christ to all Christians. I dare say, though, that we might not fully grasp the meaning and the significance of the Resurrection of Christ or what it offers to us; actually, I don't think it takes too much boldness to say because to grasp the fullness of the Resurrection is to grasp the fullness of God, and what we must constantly remember is that pursuit is beyond our reach. The human family has been given a mediator to the inaccessible God, His Son, Jesus Christ, and to know the Church and the breadth of its gifts is to know Him, but I don't think even the boldest of Christians would claim to know Christ, His Church, His will for them, or the meaning of the Resurrection fully. We live in that in between time where the victory of life over death, good over evil, Christ over sin has already been accomplished, but in the in between time we still don't see Christ fully in the great beatific vision that we have been promised—that is to say, that great heavenly splendour that awaits us. As we have done throughout this Holy Week, it would be useful to turn again to the symbols that our faith offers us to understand the great mystery of God in our life. On Palm Sunday, we saw how even of deepest despair could be a proclamation of faith; on Holy Thursday, we saw how service and love of our neighbour brings God even more fully into the world; and on Good Friday, the symbol of suffering was made manifest in the example of Mary who herself is a symbol of perfect discipleship. At this most ancient celebration, the clearest and most distinct symbol offered to us is the contrast between light and darkness, especially as it's made manifest in the Easter fire that continues to burn in our Easter Candle. Rightly, the Easter Vigil begins with this holy fire because, unlike how fire is often a symbol for the Holy Spirit at times like Pentecost, it is a symbol for Christ. The fire burns greatly in the beginning of time and indeed even before time when all that existed was God. In the time before time, before space, God lived in perfect relationship with Himself, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Creation happens, and this is the very first scripture we hear proclaimed: “In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth,” but if there is a beginning, there must have been something before that beginning. That something before the beginning is what we call God; St Thomas Aquinas might call it the unmoved mover. The point is that God was before there was.  His first creation, while “the earth was [still] a formless void” was light. But for a time, human life still seemed to be in darkness. God had not vanished, but His light was that of a candle in the darkness, and the people He chose to reveal that light to most clearly were the Jewish people. Why God chose particularly the Jewish people will always remain for us here a mystery, but certainly the faith of men and women like Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, Moses, Aaron, and Miriam were part of that choice. Their great example of faith, of encountering God in profound ways, anticipates the faith we are called to emulate and the deep relationship with God that we are similarly offered.  The people in these ancient times, the Jewish people included, did not know God as we know God; we must uphold their great dignity and uniqueness while acknowledging that to know Christ is something different, and indeed, something better. That doesn't mean that Christians themselves are necessarily better; we need only to look at history recent or long ago to know that with certainty. But that knowing Christ is objectively something different and better is what the Lord reveals to us in the great prophecies of Isaiah and Baruch that we hear tonight—the promise that the Lord will not abandon Israel, and how that promise is manifest in His messiah, His messiah who is the manifestation, in fact the Incarnation, of law and prophet, of God Himself. This promise is what Baruch and Israel are anticipating. Turning back to the Exsultet, we hear proclaimed, the great petition:             “We pray you that this candle,              hallowed to the honour of your name,              may persevere undimmed,              to overcome the darkness of this night.              Receive it as a pleasing fragrance,              and let it mingle with the lights of heaven.” The undimmed candle that Christ, and its mingling with the light of heaven, is the promise we live in now. The promise of living with Christ in the time of victory is the promise we are given and the time we live in now. It is the death that we share with Him when we are baptized, but also the resurrected glory we share and anticipate, as St Paul says in his letter to the Romans.  But while the mingling of the light produces the same perfect illumination, it is not the same perfect light in which we will live in heaven. We can know this by turning, at last, to the Gospel tonight. This great account of the third morning after Christ's death. St Luke describes how Jesus' friends Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and other women went to prepare Jesus' body for its permanent rest, but instead, they are greeted by “two men in dazzling clothes” who St Luke will later call angels. These angels reveal the light; they point the women to understand that Jesus has risen from the dead, and these women in turn take the news to the eleven remaining Apostles. For the Apostles, this seemed “an idle tale, and they did not believe the women,” but perhaps out of the desperation because of the shame he still felt for denying Jesus three times, St Peter goes to the to the tomb, and is amazed to see just the linen cloths of Jesus and not His body. More events after the resurrection of Jesus will be revealed in the weeks to come, but what stands revealed to us now is that those who experience the light hand on the light, and without the handing on of the light, there is no faith. Without the Marys, Joanna, and the other women, the Apostles might not have heard of the Resurrected Christ; they were called to reveal the light of God, and so they did. And in doing so, God's light defeated darkness.

Good Friday looks a lot different than most of the days when we gather as a community. Most of the time when we gather as a Catholic community, we gather to celebrate the Mass, to celebrate the great event when through the power of prayer, God transforms bread and wine into the body, blood, soul, and divinity of Christ. This great transformation is the presence of God in the world, the Eucharist, the reason Catholics gather. We call it, and I repeat over and over again, the source and summit of our faith, the origin and destination—where our faith comes from and where our faith is going. This great mystery of our faith is removed from us on Good Friday. We don't celebrate Mass on Good Friday. We still receive Communion; indeed, that the Communion we share today was consecrated last night at the Holy Thursday Mass is a great symbol of the continuation that exists between the two celebration and the celebration that we look forward to in our Easter celebrations tomorrow night and Sunday Morning. But the absence of a Mass today is a unique thing; in fact, Good Friday and Holy Saturday are the only two days of the year that there is not a Catholic Mass. Sometimes, Priests need days off or communities can't gather, but always, every day, somewhere in the world, at all times except Good Friday and Holy Saturday, there is a Mass being celebrated. The great absence of this prayer, of this celebration, of this opportunity for our community to gather is minimized by what we do here, in this unique way that we gather, this unique way we manifest our prayer and raise our intentions to God. We gather in memorial, in commemoration, of Jesus' death, this very sad moment in our salvation history. The man Jesus is stripped, beaten, and the crucified beside two criminals, where our Lord who did nothing wrong is treated with such contempt and violence and evil. Yet in the last moments of Jesus' life, as we hear in the Gospel of St John today, His focus is not on His suffering; His focus is not on His impending death, but indeed, it is on the Church, the community of believer that He will leave behind. So, in this great action of prayer and this great sacrifice, He also takes this great action of entrusting the Church in the Grace and Providence of His Mother, Mary, who will be there for a time to journey with the Church as a guide, as a leader, as an example of what it is and how it is to follow Christ. Mary, we know, followed Christ Her whole life perfectly, from the moments before His birth and beyond the moments after His death. Mary is a perfect example of what Christian faith is and how Christian faith should be lived out.  Faced with the death of her son, she provides for us a model of how to deal with suffering, how to deal with sadness: meeting and encountering her son who has been beaten and flogged and is now crucified, there is no description of a profound change in Mary; she continues along in her mission, ministry, and prayer as a mother, disciple, and lover of Jesus. This reveals to us a great acceptance, and in the great acceptance of her suffering, Mary makes Christ present by bearing suffering beside Him. She carries out her daily duties, but there could be no denial that suffering carries tangibly in her life. Indeed, the great tradition of the Church gives Mary the Crown of Martyrdom not because she was killed violently as the rest of the other martyrs in our tradition have but because of the great suffering she endured seeing her Son crucified and die on the Cross.  In this great example of what it is to suffer, we see what it is to bear the wounds of Christ without actually physically bearing the wounds of Christ. We see in this a model of discipleship, an invitation and a reminder that our suffering, although it is not physically on the Cross with Christ, it is similarly offered to the Lord and with the Lord. Our suffering has the opportunity to be a great prayer of supplication to the Lord, an opportunity to bring our suffering as prayer to the Lord as Mary did and as Isaiah describes when he anticipates how the Messiah will bear “our infirmities and carry our diseases” in the first reading. Even if all we can do is suffer beside the Lord, He will use that suffering as a great prayer, as a great invitation to draw deeper and deeper into relationship with Him and deeper and deeper into imitation of Him. Suffering can and indeed does become the holiest part of our lives. Sometimes, I think we would like to imagine that holiness is pious things we do like kneeling in the Church or doing great acts of service, but what the Gospel reveals to us today, what the model of Mary shows us today, is that the greatest act of Christian Faith is suffering. When we see the hurt and the brokenness of the world, but we choose to worship God anyway, that is great Christian faith. When we act not in absence or ignorance of that suffering, nor when we expect to see some miraculous removal of that suffering, we truly see that at the base of the Cross, God's action is made manifest in the world. Somehow we see through that suffering to anticipate the great glory which is to come, the great glory of removal of suffering, the great glory that is the plan of our salvation.  Somehow the sufferings we endure become the wounds not just of the Crucified Christ, but the Risen Christ as well—the Risen Christ who still bears the wounds of His crucifixion, the Risen Christ who still manifests this suffering. Christ is made manifest, the Glory of God is made manifest, in the sacrificial action that exists beyond His actual Resurrection. In our own lives when we bear suffering, and maybe especially when it never seems to go away, somehow God uses that for his glory and goodness and when we arrive into the Kingdom of Heaven and celebrate the great wedding feast He promises, the great banquet which is foreshadowed when Christ receives wine on the Cross in the Gospel today and proclaims that “it is finished.” In the Letter to the Hebrews, it says that “we have a great high Priest who is able to sympathize with our weaknesses and has been tested as we are,” who knows our human experience. God who is made man endures the difficulty of human life with us and for us, to show us that His glory can be revealed despite the brokenness and hurt of the world. Christ is somehow always there, and perhaps most profoundly, in the midst of suffering, hurt, in the midst of His Crucifixion.

Before diving deeply into the heart of tonight's homily, I want to ensure that we all share an understanding of an important concept. A symbol is something that points to something else of much deeper or more abstract meaning than the initial symbol itself could contain. A stop sign, for example, is a symbol for the instruction to stop; the sign itself cannot make us stop, but our shared knowledge of what it stands for, makes us stop. The Sacraments are symbols—not simply symbols, but symbols nonetheless. Baptism points us to a much deeper understanding of eternal life than simply being washed in water could do alone. The Eucharist points us to Christ's salvific actions, on the Cross, to His Resurrection, and even more. Baptism and Eucharist are much more than symbols, of course; beyond pointing to it, Baptism is the entry into eternal life in the here and now; Eucharist points to Christ's salvific actions because it is truly the body, blood, soul, and divinity of Christ. But the symbolic action of the sacraments is crucial to understand because it allows us to enter more deeply into the mystery—that is to say, to enter more deeply into that which is beyond the human experience: the divine experience. The eternal life offered in baptism is a good thing, indeed a very good thing, but by understanding the symbolic value of the sacrament, we are invited to enter more deeply into the mystery, to ponder what it means that are sins are forgiven and to embrace salvation it offers in the here and now—to be changed by God not just in eternal life but in our present life. Every time we receive the Eucharist, we receive the body, blood, soul, and divinity of Christ, even if we don't understand what it is or what it points to, but when we fully participate in the great mystery by understanding what the symbol points to, we even more fully embrace the Grace that God gives us, allowing a more profound change in us through God's action in the world. I preface tonight's homily be ensuring an understanding of symbols because tonight's Mass has a symbol that is only seen once a year, and sometimes, as has been the case in the last two years, and I gather even longer in this Parish community, even more rarely. The Washing of the Feet is a unique symbol in tonight's Mass. The Gospel assures us that this important symbol is not an arbitrary decision, but an imitation of the last moments of the life of Jesus. Describing this important event in the last hour of Jesus' life, Pope Emeritus Benedict says that: “Jesus represents the whole of his saving ministry in one symbolic act. He divests himself of his divine splendour; he, as it were, kneels down before us; he washes and dries our soiled feet, in order to make us fit to sit at the table for God's wedding feast. …[T]he meaning is that Jesus' love ‘to the end' is what cleans us, washes us. The gesture of washing feet expresses precisely this: it is the servant-love of Jesus that draws us out of our pride and makes us fit for God, makes us ‘clean.'” There is such profound theological meaning in the Washing of the Feet. It reveals even more clearly how the ministry of Jesus is about the emptying of Himself, the willingness to be the servant instead of the served, and it points to how Christ's salvific act will wash us of our sins and make us prepared to share in His great heavenly wedding feast. Long before I knew about this great theological meaning, and indeed, long before I knew much about Christianity at all, I shared with a friend about my desire to know more about the Christian faith. Growing up, her Christian faith was important to her, and one particular moment stood out. As I remember her telling me, near the end of a retreat opportunity, the small group of young Christians she spent much of her time with were gathered together and told that they were going to have an opportunity to wash one another's feet. There was much trepidation in this small group about what that would mean. The Washing of Feet is such a unique thing that there isn't really any contemporary equivalent, but in Jesus' day, it really was just a sign of power; the master would have his dirty feet washed by his slave who was understood by all to be beneath the master. In her group, my friend was uncomfortable as they were all instructed to take off their shoes and socks, and sitting around nervously with her peers, she was very unsure what to do next. The leaders in the group took the initiative, though, and one leader in particular made a bee-line to her, a leader whom she thought never really liked her and with whom there had even been some conflict. The leader poured warm water over her feet and smiled awkwardly at her as he wiped the water away, and my friend described how in that moment, all the awkwardness washed away, all the tension between the two of them washed way, and she knew that she was loved. In this great act of service, in this willingness for both to be vulnerable and awkward and uncomfortable, love was brought even more fully into the world—the love of God, the love of neighbour which is the love of God, love! Eventually, my friend washed her leader's feet, too, and while the two were still the same people after, the same people with their own flaws and wounds, their own victories and defeats, the Washing of the Feet revealed to them so much more about themselves, their relationship, and the great invitation that the Lord was and is constantly giving them. My friend's story has really made me excited to wash feet. It feels strange to say that. Again, we don't really have a contemporary equivalent to this action, so saying that “I'm really excited to wash feet” might sound very strange. But I love the symbol, and I love that I'll get to participate in the symbol. I've been eager for my whole Priesthood, and then some, to share in this awkwardness, to be made uncomfortable and to make uncomfortable, to share in this action that so radically contrasts how we act and believe and behave by the standards of the world.  This invitation to act differently than how the world acts has been part of God's tool box from the very beginning. In our first reading today, we hear the Exodus story that is so familiar to us that we might forget how radical it is that God had the Jewish people identify their unique role in His saving plan by killing the false idols of Egypt—making their neighbour look at them strangely but ultimately saving their life. The reason that St Paul emphasizes the Eucharistic action over and over again to the Corinthians and the other communities he serves is because it's so different than how the Jewish people and the Gentile people worshipped before. Eat the body and drink the blood of your God Man, proclaim the death of your saviour who was killed like a criminal, but in doing so, know that your faith points to the fact that He has come again and will continue to come again over and over again in His perpetual presence in the world. As Christians, we are called to act in the world as symbols that point to something well beyond the world's understanding—that leaders are called to serve, that the rich are those who give away their wealth, that the powerful are those who hang on the Cross. Or perhaps most simply, in the words of Jesus Himself, “I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.” The Paschal Triduum which we begin to celebrate today points out and celebrates the most radical things in the life and death of Jesus that we are called not simply to accept and worship but to be transformed by and imitate.

After a significant episode, Fr Parker is still sort of absent! But he plans to upload his homilies for Holy Week 2022, so that's a thing. Full text below! There is so much of value in the readings from today's Mass, but perhaps what has called to me the most is the Psalm Response, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” By the measure of the world, this response is sorrowful, dark, and maybe even seems evil, but our Christian imagination challenges us to read more deeply into this proclamation of faith, into the whole of the Psalm it points to, and how that relates to the whole of the Christian mystery which we celebrate today. I call the response to today's Psalm a proclamation of faith because people who do not believe in God do not think he forsakes them; people who do not believe in God simply fail to consider God at all. For a true atheist, God is not absent, dismissive, good or evil, but rather, God simply does not exist. Thus, the Psalm response is a proclamation of faith, even if it's a proclamation of faith in a God who seems distant or even entirely absent. In how the Psalm is presented in today's liturgy, there are only four stanzas. The actual Psalm is much longer, but the Church presents this summarized version around the main themes of the full Psalm. This shortened version really emphasizes just how drastic the turn that occurs in the final stanza is. The speaker turns from describing the mockery of the crowd around him, the feebleness he feels, and the injustice he faces at the hands of those who have condemned him to a great proclamation of faith and desire to evangelize: I will tell of your name to my brothers and sisters;   in the midst of the congregation I will praise you!  You who [stand in awe of] the Lord, praise him!  All you offspring of Jacob, glorify him!  Stand in awe of him, all you offspring of Israel! The world would tell us that those who feel forsaken by God should do their best to change their feelings; the world would tell those who feel forsaken by God to forsake Him back. “If your God is really a God of love, why would you feel forsaken?” “Your God has abandoned you because you don't fit into some idealized and impossible mould that you are supposed to embrace.” “If you really feel forsaken, if you really feel sentenced to death and despair, isolation and loneliness, ‘let this God rescue the one in whom he supposedly delights!'” In the world, even some of those who claim to have a faith in the same God might tell you to change your feelings if you feel forsaken by God. “God loves you, and that should be enough.” “God wouldn't give you more than you can handle.” “You just need to deepen your faith so that you can know that this is all part of the great plan that God has for you.” I'm here to tell you that these pieces of atheistic advice and pious platitudes are both equally wrong and equally dangerous—equally wrong and dangerous to a lived authentic faith because the God whose scripture proclaims professions of faith like “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” can handle your feelings. Like a mother who nurses a fussy baby, a father who does not abandon a teenager who spits hatred at him, a true friend who can handle absence, or like sons and daughters who still fall deeply in love with their moms and dads as their physical and mental health declines in old age, the God whose scripture proclaims “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” can handle your feelings, whatever they are. The God of the Old Testament and the New Testament, the God of the Jews, the God Incarnate in Christ, Jesus Himself, embraces and loves you no matter your feelings and patiently bears them out beside you, embracing you in suffering in the same way that any lover embraces his or her beloved. While feelings of abandonment or forsakenness are legitimate, they certainly do not reflect the reality of an always-present God who loves each and every one of us. God will patiently bear your feelings as feelings do what feelings do: change and adapt to the circumstance. The circumstances of the Scriptures certainly point to the legitimacy of feelings that God has forsaken us. Isaiah speaks of the torment he endures for being a believer. He is beaten, his beard is pulled out, and he faces insults and is even spit at, but his faith endures, He knows the Lord helps him and he “shall not be put to shame.” St Paul's great Philippian Hymn speaks of the humility of Christ, who is empty in the form of a slave and put to death on a Cross, yet “every tongue confesses that Jesus Christ is Lord.” The great Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ according to St Luke describes how Jesus' suffering is so intense that “his sweat became like great drops of blood.” Even hanging on the Cross, Jesus is mocked by one of the criminals He is crucified beside. Our God can handle these feelings of forsakenness because He is a God who calls for forgiveness for those who have wronged Him. He is a God who embraces the conversion of the other criminal, who in just the last moments of his life seeks to meet and encounter the mercy of God. The power of God is manifested in this great show of mercy. This great show of mercy, love, and endurance that demands, as Jesus proclaims in our first Gospel today, “if we were silent about it, the stones would shout it out.” Christ's kingship is manifest in moments where we might legitimately feel forsaken, and with the great love that His kingship contains, we need not worry about proclaiming it because even “the stones would shout out” if were unable to do it. The circumstances of the world today, like the Scriptures, certainly point to the legitimacy of feelings that God has forsaken us. Two years of isolation, a new war filled with heinous crimes, and many of us are still reeling at the news we heard over the summer about Residential Schools. Yet the Lord is acting in all of this; the local Church is emerging and the universal Church has discovered new ways of reaching people; good people are still doing good things in Eastern Europe, and even doing good for those who would seem to not deserve it; the Residential School crisis has given the Church the invitation to live legitimately the call to reconciliation that it needs to embrace! What Holy Week reveals to us, and what it is especially revealing as we celebrate Palm Sunday, is that God is bigger than our sorrow—that God is bigger than our expectations. Christ's kingship is revealed today, but He doesn't come as a figure of worldly power or prestige. He is finally ready to reveal his kingship and proclaim it with vigour, but His kingship is not what we would expect. His kingship hangs on the Cross and admits criminals who cry out to Him in need Like the stones, we too need to shout out, “Lord remember me when you come into your kingdom,” or “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” We need to cry out to our Lord the proclamation whatever state our faith finds itself, trusting that He can work with that, trusting that He is our God, beside us on the Cross.

One of Fr Parker's favourite authors, Michael O'Brien, has released a new novel, The Lighthouse: A Novel. It's novel, then, because Fr Parker has a good excuse to try to use the word novel again, except he used it as an adjective. The Lighthouse tells the story of Ethan McQuary a lighthouse keeper who encounters the world and encounters the Divine in the midst of it. Leaning on an interview by Michael O'Brien and recent words by Pope Francis, Fr Parker explores how this novel: A Lighthouse calls us each to community, belonging, and acknowledgement that his might make us uncomfortable. The interview Fr Parker references is found here: https://www.catholicweekly.com.au/qa-with-the-lighthouse-author-michael-d-obrien/ An article about the words of Pope Francis can be found here: https://www.vaticannews.va/en/pope/news/2021-03/pope-francis-iraq-interreligious-meeting-ur-chaldeans.html Find the full text too!

Not Fr Parker! That is, he didn't really like the movie Greenland. And even though in the podcast he encourages people to not be negative to whole nations, it's true that he's ambivalent to the country as a whole, as he is to most countries. But be better than him! And be better than Greenland! From a quality perspective and an ethical perspective (in this case, better than refers specifically to better than the move).

Listen, Fr Parker is as surprised as you are that anything on Apple+ TV is entertaining enough to talk about on this podcast. In the midst of being overwhelmed by streaming options, this show came highly recommended, and Fr Parker was desperate for anything new to make me laugh. Ted Lasso makes me laugh and more. It's a heartfelt, realistic, and hilarious portrayal of a truly kind person. Give it a watch and learn some important lessons about kindness to others.

In the 34th episode, Fr Parker talks about Walt Whitman's amazing poem, "To You." It's a poem that Fr Parker interprets differently than most, but that's probably because he understands it better than the rest. At the very least, it changed his life and made him realize that God loved him, and that's a pretty big deal!

This episode of the Podcast features the first ever guest--not like, in Podcast history, obviously, but on this one. Fr Parker's dear friend, John Ottens joins him to talk about Kings, a great show that retells an Old Testament story in a modern society with relevant and important insights to our modern lives. If you like what John has to say, visit his blog at https://johnottens.ca/ or buy his book, The Gentleman Athiest, from him or off Amazon!

In this week's episode, Fr Parker talks about the 2006 film, Children of Men, and the PD James novel that it is based upon. Using the dystopian elements of both, Fr Parker describes what is a warning for s in our world now and why, but he also talks about why there is much reason to hope. There is much reason to hope for the same reason that there is reason to have faith and love, and that reason is Christ!

Finally, Fr Parker talks about The Office--that's the American version of The Office, not the British version created by Ricky Gervais. Here are the groundbreaking things he talks about: that all Catholics are sinners and all people need to have God as the foundation of their lives! If that sounds familiar, it's because the faith is almost 2 000 years old, and it was all said by Jesus before anyway so there's no pressure to come up with something new.

Perhaps controversially, or perhaps not since it's no longer the 1990s, Fr Parker is talking about Harry Potter! He asks about whether he should talk about it at all, since it does deal with magic, but then after he says that Harry is Christ-like figure, it should be pretty clear that he's not totally opposed to talking about Harry Potter. He's nostalgic for Harry Potter, too, because it's the only reason he reads books, but he does agree that Harry himself is also kind of a dink.

I think I learnt that I don't like Christmas movies. I also genuinely learnt that I'm probably taking my faith for granted, but that came more from my genius level insight than any particular grace from the movie. Maybe that's harsh. It's still Christmas, after all.

In the final Advent episode of the podcast, Fr Parker asks "what do we anticipate in The Mandalorian?" And in answering, he only rants about COVID 19 for a little while, so that must be him displaying the stoic-like patience of this show's title character, right? Maybe.

In CS Lewis's The Great Divorce, we simultaneously await the fullness of Christ and the fullness of the individual. Oops. I guess maybe that's a spoiler for the podcast? Probably you'll listen anyway. Hopefully you will, anyway.

Fr Parker found an excuse to talk about his favourite film, Calvary, again. In this podcast, he looks at the four women characters and the thirteen supporting male characters, and he asks what lens we can use to understand them more deeply? And then, he reflects about how that lens might help us in our daily lives.

Fr Parker was very tired when he recorded this episode, and he stresses that point multiple times in the Podcast and now at least once in the description. Still don't believe him? This podcast was recorded on time but released late because he was so tired that he forgot he had to actually upload it somewhere and not just let magical podcast faeries take care of the hard work. Maybe that's why he didn't have the time of day for the incredibly sexist and aged-poorly-even-though-it's-only-seven-years-old-sitcom How I Met Your Mother. Tune in for a rant!

In this week's episode, Fr Parker talks about two short stories by Flannery O'Connor: "The Life You Save May be Your Own" and "Why do the Heathen Rage?" Now that you know that, the title of this podcast is really clever, right? Right!? Musing as he likes to do about broken people hurting people, Fr Parker asks why people don't act on the virtue that comes to their heart when he knows full why he doesn't act on the virtue of his own heart: concupiscence. 

The conclusion to Fr Parker's five-part homily series about the human person and sexuality. Fr Parker reviews his points in light of Pope Francis's confirmed comments, and he focuses on the heart of the matter: what makes a sexual act a sin? The full text of the homily follows: So, the last four weeks have been building up to this: an attempt to answer misreporting by the mainstream, and not-so-mainstream, media that said Pope Francis had broken with long-held traditions of the Church. The world and the Church are in much different place than we were four weeks ago when we began these reflections. The world is seeing the devastating effects of COVID 19 take effect as places around the world are hit hard by a second wave, and it is trying to hit back harder with increased restrictions and enforcement of a second lockdowns in some places. The Church celebrates, today, the end of the liturgical year with the great feast of Christ the King of the Universe. Moreover, as I expected, the past four weeks have allowed the Vatican itself, at Pope Francis's direction, to clarify his statements. For those who don't know by now, Pope Francis was taken out of context by making two different answers to two different questions seem like an answer to a third question. Pope Francis said that "homosexual people have the right to be in a family. They are children of God” and "what we have to have is a civil union law. That way they are legally covered." Leaning on our four supporting facts, we should be able to see clearly that there is nothing inherently contradictory between Pope Francis's actual words and our God-given traditions of our Church. “The human person is the body and soul that is created, loved, and redeemed by God” means that each of us are created, loved, and redeemed by God. Things outside of our control do not change that, and the things we control that we use to try to convince ourselves otherwise do not change that either. Every human person who was created by God (all) is loved and redeemed by Him. “Sin is the brokenness of the world, chosen by each individual, but forgiven by God” means that all of us are sinners in the eyes of God, and more specifically, all of us are forgiven and loved sinners by God. We are called to imitate God's love of us as we love others—that means loving others not just despite their sins, but with their sins. “Sexuality is the shared difference of the human person, who images God perfectly, but depends on the other to reveal Him completely” means that the necessary difference between man and woman tells us things about God and things about the human person. One of the things that this tells us about God is that He is even more vast and complicated than we can imagine. One of the things that this tells us about the human person is that the human person is also even more vast and complicated than we can imagine. This vastness and complicatedness means that sometimes things seem like paradoxes—that God is three in one, or entirely God and entirely man, or that the individual images God completely but relies on another to do it perfectly—are not actually contradictions but examples of things that are beyond our understanding, things that require that we have faith. “Marriage is the divine unity between husband and wife that brings God's Grace (love) into the world for the good of the spouses and the community” means that marriage is something special. Marriage is good not just for the individuals in the marriage but indeed for the world. Thus, marriage is something that should be treasured, and like we do with all our treasures, shared, protected, and explained. Pope Francis's call to ensure that homosexual people are welcome parts of their families respects the dignity of their creation and acknowledges the brokenness of each of us. That he calls it a right shows the profound importance he, and the Church, and God, places on loving everyone we meet, especially those in our family, whom we love with word and action. How Pope Francis's words about civil union laws impact the Church's understanding of sexuality and marriage will be ongoing and discussed at length, but it is clear that his call to protect in law all people needs to be seen as an interpretation of his call to love all people. Pope Francis cannot change the natural law of sexual difference, nor can he change the eternal teaching of the Church about marriage. And importantly, it's clear to me that he doesn't want to change those things. Now, I hope it has been evident in the past four weeks that, despite attempting to answer some very important questions, I have also tried to be attentive to the particular day and the divine mysteries we celebrate at every Mass. Today's feast, Christ the King Sunday, is one of the greatest feasts of the year because it reminds us that along with being king of our hearts and wills, Christ desires to be king of our societies, and indeed, our whole universe. This feast is an invitation to faithful to participate in the challenges and struggles of our society, but also to do so mindful of a higher authority. Political structures have a rightful place in our lives, but also limits, and our ultimate authority is and always will be Christ the King. Mindful of that call, we need concern ourselves less with civil laws than with the holiness of our hearts and lives. We need concern ourselves less with institutional structures than how those structures challenge us on a day-by-day, moment-by-moment, basis to preach the love, mercy, and compassion of our God—and to preach less in words than in actions. That said, I have another question for us to consider in light of today's readings, great feast, the divine mysteries we celebrate, and this series of questions: what makes a sexual act a sin? Aware that our civil and human authorities are limited in ways that our ultimate authority, Christ our King, is not, let us consider not laws or norms of cultures, but the divine meaning of our humanity in a broken world that reveals God for our good and the good of the whole world to answer this question. Today's readings point to clearer answers. The reading from prophet Ezekiel reminds us that along with being our King, our Lord is also our shepherd; that is to say, He is our guide and protector. Does the sexual act ignore the directions by which God leads us? Then it is a sin, but our King Shepherd will never abandon us. St Paul reminds us in his letter to the Corinthians of the universal effects of sin; “as all die in Adam, so all will be made alive in Christ.” Does the sexual act make life (not necessarily literally), or does it make death, brokenness? If it is the latter, then it is a sin, but remember Christ has defeated death, restored brokenness. Our Gospel this weekend is very memorable. This great image of the Son of Man separating sheep from goats because everything we have done to our brothers and sisters in Christ that has hurt them or helped them, we have done to hurt or help our King Shepherd, Christ, our God. Likewise, everything we have not done for our brothers and sisters in Christ that has hurt them or helped them, we have not done for the hurt and help of our King Shepherd, Christ, our God. This great image and warning reminds us that our actions mean much more to us than what they initially suggest in the midst of our fleeting desires or even long-held identities. Virtue and sin affect who we are and affect how we view God and our brothers and sisters in Christ. Our sexual acts have the potential to make good or participate in the brokenness of the world. We are called, invited, challenged to make good and not participate in this brokenness. The Paschal Mystery of Christ reminds us that all sin is forgiven, but it also more clearly reminds us that we are called to the glory of the Resurrection and that call and glory is foreshadowed and revealed fully now. The human person reveals God; this means as human people we reveal His Cross, which is evident in our suffering, and his Glory, which is evident when we act with virtue. Our Sacraments--Marriage, Eucharist, Baptism—too, reveal God and His death and resurrection The Trinity of God reveals that the human person, who is made in the Trinity's image and likeness, is made for relationships. Just as our God is most fully revealed in relationships, we reveal Him most fully in our relationships. Our relationships can make us more virtuous, or they can make us more sinful. Our relationships can be sexual or they can be friendly. Sexuality and friendships can each be virtuous or sinful. What makes a sexual act a sin? When it contributes to the brokenness of the individual and the world instead of the goodness of them.

Good question! It's a really good film that I really recommend you watch. I think this is a really good podcast about it, but I'm not sure. I ask questions like "why?" and "have you even watched the film?" so as I say that I become less convinced. But I end the formal talk by quoting Jesus off by heart so that's impressive, right?

In this fourth homily, Fr Parker addresses the purpose and effects of marriage. It's real simple: marriage makes love easier because God makes love easier and marriage makes God easier. That makes sense right? Well, either way, you should listen to the homily. The following is the full text of the homily: A brief reminder before we begin that the last three weeks of homilies and this week's and next week's homilies build upon each other. If you missed any, or would simply like to review them, you can always watch them on YouTube or they are also uploaded to my Podcast stream. Three big review statements that will contextualize this week's homily: first, the human person is the body and soul that is created, loved, and redeemed by God; second, sin is the brokenness of the world, chosen by each individual, but forgiven by God; and third, sexuality is the shared difference of the human person who somehow images God perfectly while still depending on the other to reveal God completely. This week, I will attempt to answer two closely related questions: what and why is marriage? Marriage is unique among the Sacraments because, as an institution, it existed in the Jewish culture before Christ, and indeed, it would seem every society in the history of the world has some sort of organization that joins two individuals together. The Catechism says clearly, though, that “Marriage is not a purely human institution despite the many variations it may have undergone through the centuries in different cultures, social structures, and [even] spiritual attitudes” (1603). Marriage is not perfect in the Old Testament; kings and rulers had many wives, and Moses permits divorce because of the hardness of the faithful's hearts. Christ changes that, though, just as He changes everything. Christ makes marriage a fulfilment of the shared vocation to love. Marriage between husband and wife, the love they share, “becomes an image of the absolute and unfailing love with which God loves [each human person]” (1604). Moreover, the marriage between two baptized people has the potential to become even more than an image; marriage becomes a sacrament: one of Christ's most effective and guaranteed actions of Grace in the world! The brokenness of sin threatens marriage. The individuals bring sin into the marriage by their lack of trust, adulterous thoughts, impatience with one another, and much more. Sin in the society around the marriage affects it too: confusion about what marriage is confuses the spouses; encouragement and accessibility of so many vices haunts the couple; the demands of the material world put undue pressure on the individuals, and again, so much more. But we know that sin is redeemed by God. In fact, we know that redemption happens most effectively in things that look the most like sin. Remember the Cross: the Cross is marked by the gravest and most obvious sins: violence, unbelief, hatred, mockery, cowardice, and betrayal. In the midst of these sins, God conquers. His passion “becomes the source from which the forgiveness of our sins will pour fourth inexhaustibly” (1851). Marriage, then, even if marked by sin, can be a source of redemption. Marriage is the suffering which makes saints of the spouses. Perhaps the most memorable aspects of our readings today are the responsorial psalm's description of how those who fear the Lord are blessed and Jesus's declaration that those who have nothing will suffer in darkness where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. These frightening words might not sound like words from a God who calls each and every one of us to love with a love as deep as His love for us. But as always, these words demand a context. It must be remembered that fear and terror are not the same; fear is an emotional response to anticipation that might lead us to terror but would better lead us to repentance and appreciation of the great power of whatever it is we fear. Repentance and appreciation are not the response of the unworthy slave, but they are present in the slave who uses his talents to do more. Likewise, repentance and appreciation are crucial actions between spouses in a marriage. The parable of the talents is about embracing the calling that God gives each individual. We share universal vocation to love, but how each individual lives that love comes in as many ways as there are people in the world. The parable of the talents is also a warning about living in fear of what God is asking you to do, and how our response to fear might make things worse, or with repentance and appreciation, could make them so much better! The first reading from Proverbs is not just describing the role of a wife, but is describing the importance of everyone's discernment. The moral “Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised” is not a warning about the wiles of women, but a reminder for each of us to search for deeper meaning than initial impressions and appearances offer. St Paul's declaration that we are “children of light” is a reminder that we are called to share these and other messages of the Gospel to the places of darkness, brokenness, in the world. The whole of Jesus's life, ministry, crucifixion, and resurrection points to the marriage between God and man that is present in all of our lives, and is realized most effectively in the Sacraments—most especially Baptism, which unities us eternally with the God, and the Eucharist, which is the wedding banquet of the Lord. But Jesus's mission also reveals the glory of spousal marriage: He comes from a marriage that while shaken by an unplanned pregnancy remains steadfast; His first miracle occurs at a wedding; He explains why Moses wrongly allowed divorced; the suffering of the Cross, often, resembles the suffering of Marriage; and the Glory of the Resurrection even more perfectly reveals the Glory of marriage. “The Christian family” from which is a natural and necessary fruit of Marriage, is a communion of persons,” and we remember that the same language is used to describe the Trinity. The family “is a sign and image of the communion of the Father and the Son in the Holy Spirit. In the procreation and education of children [the family] reflections the Father's work of creation. [The family] is called to partake… [in] the sacrifice of Christ. Daily prayer and the reading of the Word of God” reveal God in the family in the same simple way that the Holy Spirit does (2205). Our call this week, then, is to embrace our vocation—to embrace our universal vocation to love and the particular way that we are called to live it. Are you married? Then love your spouse better. Are you ordained? Then be a better Priest. Are you single? Then ask yourself how God might want you to live love better today and in the future. Do not live in terror of the future, but acknowledge the need for repentance and appreciation of the great mystery to which God is calling you. Love Him, and love all those he puts in your life What and why is marriage? Marriage is the divine unity between husband and wife that brings God's Grace into the world for the good of the spouses and the whole community.

Fr Parker finds God in the new Netflix limited-series, The Queen's Gambit. That is, he finds out how the protagonist is trying to find God in the new Netflix limited-series, The Queen's Gambit. Beth Harmon's journey of one searching for family and belonging, and it reminds us that this journey is one that God is always making with us and encouraging us to make with the Church.

To fully understand the human person, and to understand more deeply sin, it is crucial to understand human sexuality. This homily is the third of five attempts to provide a foundation to guide interpretation of Pope Francis's supposed comments in the documentary, Francesco. The following is the full text of the homily: Continuing with week three of my attempt to answer fundamental questions about the human person and human sexuality, this week I will build upon our understanding of the human person and sin as I strive to answer the question: what is human sexuality? First, some brief review. We know that the human person is the body and soul that is created, loved, and redeemed by God. We also know that sin is the brokenness of the world, chosen by each person, but forgiven by God. To answer the question, “what is human sexuality?”, it would be useful to acknowledge that the meaning of sexuality is huge, and perfectly addressing it is, as I have said before, beyond the scope of all the homilies that I will preach in my, hopefully, long life left. Sexuality is so complex because it has at least two crucial ways that every human person interacts with it—first, from an individual perspective and second, as the collective group of humanity. First, there is a complementarity of the sexes that reveals something about how the human person is created in the image and likeness of God. “In his likeness he created them; man and woman he created them” is what the Book of Genesis says. The sexuality of the human person, whether that is a male or female sexuality, is somehow tied to how each person is an image of God in the world. Man is not more or less an image of God than woman who is not more or less an image of God than man, but they are different from each other. Since we are body and soul, we know that our sexuality is not manifested just in physical and bodily differences, but there must also be a difference between the man's and the woman's spiritual existence.  Second, the clearest sign of the complementarity of the sexes is how their differences work together in the sexual act. In fact, the differences between the sexes is what makes the sexual act possible in its most complete form. The sexual act is not simply a physical act because the people doing it are not simply physical. Like all acts that a human person takes, in his or her body and soul, the sexual act is both physical and spiritual. The physical and spiritual differences between men and women “each cooperate in a unique way in the Creator's work” (GS 50.1). The Church has always understood that the sexual act must always be procreative and unitive. It might be tempting to understand procreative and unitive strictly within the difference between physical and spiritual that these characteristics seem to suggest. That is to say, procreation is clearly physical, and unity might be most clearly realized in the spirit. However, just as there is unity between the human person's body and soul, physical nature and spiritual nature, there is something inherently spiritual in the procreative aspects of the sexual act and something deeply physical in its unitive components as well. Our Gospel this week talks about marriage, which lends help to the undeniable point that the fullest expression of sexual act happens within the context of marriage. Sexual ethics are not the main point of Jesus's parable, however. Instead, His story about the wise virgins keeping their lamps lit for the soon-to-arrive wedding party tells us something about how we wait in anticipation for our judgement by Christ. We must be prepared for the inevitable judgement of Christ that comes at an uncertain time. In that sense, then, perhaps this parable does reveal something about sexual ethics: that is, it is important to do good always. Every act that a human person takes is either good or bad, with varying degrees that are subject to intent, freedom, and the gravity of our actions. Leaning on our definition of sin, how we live our sexuality either participates in the good of the world or the brokenness of it. In our second reading, St Paul reminds the faithful in Thessalonica that our actions are to be judged by the Lord, and so we must remain steadfast, informed, and hopeful in the midst of trial. In the first reading, from the Book of Wisdom, we learn that the Wisdom of God is a great gift; this Wisdom is commonly compared to logic or reason. Thus, we can be sure that the Lord always judges us within our ability to use reason to discern the truth that our conscience challenges us to realize. The life of Jesus, and especially His passion, death, and resurrection reveals to us something about the fullness of sexuality within the person and within God Himself. Jesus is Man, and He is also a man. He is not married, and so he remains celibate; that is to say, He abstains from the sexual act. His masculinity is also lived in how He gives; He gives His life, He gives salvation, and He also gives away His mother. The women of the Passion story also reveal something about femininity. St Veronica comforts the suffering Jesus; St Mary Magdalen is the first to receive the good news of Jesus's resurrection and she shares that news with the Apostles; Our Holy Mother Mary receives a new family in faith when the whole human race become her sons and daughters. These examples do not mean that only men give, or that women only receive, but they do point to the complementarity of the sexes that is present in all human actions because sexuality is present in all human actions. The Triune nature of God also reveals something about human sexuality. “In the Trinity, each person is utterly equal in his possession of the divine nature and yet utterly irreducible to one another as Persons…. So too with men and women created in the image of God. The sexes share a common humanity—the same nature. Yet they are irreducibly different as persons” (Grabowski). Thus, the definition of the Trinity “that the Father is God, but that the Father is not the Son who is God, and that the Son who is God is not the Holy Spirit who is God” was intentionally echoed when I said that “man is not more or less an image of God than woman who is not more or less an image of God than man.” This comparison between the persons of the Trinity and human sexuality is by no means perfect, but it shows again how understanding God helps us understand the human person. So, how do we live this sexual difference in our lives? We live it first by knowing ourselves, knowing our strengths and weaknesses, and prayerfully discerning how God wants us to use them in the world. We live this difference too by considering our station in life: are we married or single? Young or old? How is God calling me where I am right now and to where is He calling me in the future? Sexuality is the shared difference of the human person that somehow images God perfectly while still depending on the other to reveal God completely.

Louise Glück is the winner of the 2020 Nobel Prize in literature winner. She's an American poet, and Fr Parker looks at three of her poems at how they help him more understand grief, suffering, and meaning. Tune in to se how he turns these themes into questions to keep the consistency of his show.

Understanding the human person is key, but understanding the sin which affects all human people is also crucial. This homily is the second of five attempts to provide a foundation to guide interpretation of Pope Francis's comments that recently caused a stir in the main-stream media. Keep listening for more! The following is the full text of the homily: Last week, I promised to try to address careless misreporting by the mainstream media that suggested Pope Francis had broken with many long-established traditions in the Church. The Church's teachings are often misrepresented because they are vast and complicated because God is even more vast and even more complicated. A quick answer to the latest headlines would only cause more confusion. We must, as Christians, strive to understand that our faith, as it is lived in the world, cannot fit into headlines. We must wrestle with the complexity of our faith as it is lived in a world filled with differences On this great feast of All Saints Day, we are reminded that holiness takes as many forms as there are people in the world. The great saints that line our stained-glass windows show us that holiness, as it is lived in the world, takes on many forms. Thus, I continue to endeavour to try to answer some key questions about what the Church teaches about the human person and human sexuality so that we, as Catholics, might at least engage with the Church's teachings and, with all hope and prayer, let it guide us in our lives and our action in the world. Last week, I tried to answer the question: who is the human person? I said that the human person is the body and soul that is created, loved, and redeemed by God. This week, I will try to answer the question: what is sin? To answer, it would be useful to return again, briefly, to something that was said last week. In the definition of the human person, it was stressed that the human person is a person and not an object. Perhaps one of the simplest understandings of sin is the attempt to treat persons like objects and objects like persons. That is to say, sin is the undervaluing of the person and the overvaluing of the things of the world. Our Catechism of the Catholic Church says that sin goes against reason, truth, and right conscience. Sin goes against reason because it manipulates us into seeking from a thing that which can only be given from a person (or from a person that which would more properly come from a thing). Sin goes against truth because in this manipulation, reality is distorted. Sin goes against conscience because God has given us the ability to see this distortion and reason against this manipulation, but so often instead, we choose the sin. Sin is not a Christian invention. That is to say, sin is not simply something that affects Christians and those who do not share Christian values are free from it. The whole world is governed by the universal law of truth, and the human person wrestles with truth through his/her reason. The human person's conscience is the interior, God-given, guidance to virtue and away from sin. Sin hurts the self, the community, and God. How sin hurts the self is, hopefully, obvious. If we are made for truth and love, and sin distorts that, then we are hurt. Even the most private sins hurt the community because we bring ourselves into that community, and by bringing our brokenness, we break more. Sin hurts God, but it doesn't break his love for us; sin makes it harder for us to love God, but God loves us perfectly always. Because today is a great and holy day, a day when we commemorate all the saints who have gone before us into heaven, our readings speak more about the virtue of the saints than about the hurt caused by sin. Today, we commemorate the named and unnamed saints that constantly intercede for us in heaven that, as St John says in our first reading, come “from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages.” Understanding of virtue helps us understand sin. Jesus says “blessed are the poor in spirit” so we know that we must look at wealth in the world. Wealth isn't inherently sinful, but the choices a person makes regarding that wealth might be. An object can't be sinful, but the way a person uses an object might be. Wealth can be used to show charity and generosity, but it can also be used to divide and rule without mercy. “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness” is not about the feelings of a person. Feelings can't be sinful either, but the action that a feeling drives you to do might be. Wealth shows that objects can be used for good by persons. This beatitude, that calls each and every one of us to strive for justice shows that persons might be used as objects when they are treated unjustly. Looking at the brokenness of the world should stir our feelings to do good, to do justice, to be righteous. Looking at the differences and the divisions of the people in the world might also stir our feelings to continue to foster that division, to treat groups of people like groups of objects that can all be treated the same; this cannot be allowed in the pursuit of justice. Jesus is the only one of us who, by His own power, lived completely without sin. Mary also lived without sin, but only by the Grace of her son. Jesus's passion and death on the Cross is marked by the gravest and most obvious sins: violence, unbelief, hatred, mockery, cowardice, and betrayal. In the midst of this sin, though, God conquers. His passion “becomes the source from which the forgiveness of our sins will pour fourth inexhaustibly.” (1851) And thus, the most important characteristic of sin is shown—that is, sin is forgiven. Forgiveness must be accepted, and in its distortion and manipulation, sin tries to convince us that we do not need to be forgiven. But since our call is a call to love perfectly, we need forgiveness. The Triune identity of God also reveals to us the opposite of sin. The Trinity is a relationship of perfect love and freedom that creates and redeems the world. Sin is selfish hate that lies and destroys. We are hurt by sin. Our community is hurt by sin. God is hurt by sin. But in the midst of this brokenness, we are saved. The saints lived lives that were marked by their virtue, but they would be the first to admit that their lives were also marked by their sin. That sin is forgiven is a reminder that we are constantly invited to not accept our brokenness or the brokenness of the world around us, but rather, to try to change it. That sin is forgiven is a great gift and a great invitation to meet and encounter the love and mercy of God, to try to more fully accept it. You have sinned; that you have sinned is as sure as the fact that you are redeemed by God. This week, pray with and about your brokenness. Pray with the fact that we are so wonderfully created, yet we often choose the manipulation and distortion of the world. What is sin? Sin is the brokenness of the world, chosen by each person, but forgiven by God.

Fr Parker was told to watch the film Velocipastor. He is sorry; blame the person who told him to watch it. It doesn't understand Catholicism, but could have, which would have made it that much funnier. But it asks how to discern, who sin kills, and where the heart leads? That's interesting! Or at least, it could have been.

Did it sound like Pope Francis changed everything when the mainstream media reported about the documentary, Francesco? It did to me. I'm still wrestling with it, but to wrestle with it better, I'm trying, over the next five weeks to answer five fundamental questions about the human person and human sexuality. The five answers will remind us of the direction that interpretation of Pope Francis's words must take. The following is the full text of the homily: If you follow the news at all, you might have heard that the mainstream media reported that Pope Francis has broken with many long-established traditions in the Church. Reporting like this happens all the time. I won't pretend to understand why, but I'll share that my best and most charitable guess is that so many people, Catholics included, misunderstand a great deal about what the Church actually believes and teaches. This misunderstanding happens, in part, because Church teaching is vast and complicated because God is even more vast and even more complicated. It would be impossible to answer entirely the questions and concerns raised by this most recent misreporting by the media in one homily. It would be impossible to answer entirely in all the homilies remaining in my, hopefully, long life left. I am, however, going to endeavour to answer some key questions about what the Church teaches about the human person and human sexuality over the next five weeks. These homilies will build upon one another in a way that I have not done before. But we have the privilege that right now, if you miss one, you can view it throughout the week before your next attendance at Mass because we are livestreaming the Parish Mass every weekend. I encourage everyone to wrestle with these homilies and wrestle with how you live and model the teachings in your own life, for this is our call as Christians: to wrestle with God as Jacob did, and as it is depicted in the great-stained-glass image in the back of our Church—to wrestle with God always as He changes our lives. The first Church teaching I am going to address, and question that I am going to answer is “who is the human person?” To answer, it is telling to share with you that as I was making my plan for the next five weeks, I first wrote “what is the human person?” The distinction between who and what is crucial because who refers to a person and what refers to an object. The human person is, unsurprisingly, a person; that is to say, the human person is not an object. The human person is the greatest creation of God; angels are more powerful, but the human person is greater; animals, plants, computers, and books are good; all of these are good, but the human person is better. Each and every one of us is individually created by God. The whole universe was created by God, but the human person is the greatest creation. Creation by God doesn't mean that Genesis has to be taken literally, but as Catholics we believe that there are profound truths about God and the human person revealed in every page, and indeed every word, of Sacred Scripture—the Bible. One truth revealed about the human person is that we are created body and soul—not one part of the human person carrying around the other, but a unity between the two. Another truth is that at our creation, we were made perfect, but as one of my favourite poets describes it, we were created “sufficient to stand, though free to fall.” We are fallen—that is to say, broken and hurt by sin. But the story of the human person does not end there because we are also redeemed by Jesus Christ's death on the Cross and His resurrection from the dead three days later. Our brokenness is an important truth, but that we have been put back together again by God is even more important. The human person and his or her relationship with God is the focus of today's readings. In our first reading from the Book of Exodus, the greatness of the human person is shown by the dignity God demands we give to those who are different form us. We give respect and love to all human people because they are created and loved by God, the greatest and most loved of His creations; we also give respect and love to all human people to show others who don't know this crucial truth that we know it, and that they can learn it too. That's what St Paul means in his First Letter to the Thessalonians when he says that he and those he travelled with became “an example to all believers.” The Gospel spells out this crucial point clearly and deeply when Jesus gives the two greatest commandments—“love your God with all you heart, soul, and mind, and love your neighbour as yourself.” With these words, Jesus makes it clear that loving God requires loving His creation. With these words, Jesus says that loving God is loving people, and one of the simplest logical truths in the universe  is that if A equals B, then B also equals A. That is to say, loving God is the action of loving people, and loving people is the action of loving God. The great relationship between humanity and God is modelled for us not only in the words of Jesus, but in His very identity. Jesus is God made man, man who is God. In His human life, Jesus not only lives as a human, but he accomplishes redemption, that is the possibility of us all to resurrect and live in heaven, for all human people—before, during, and after His human life. This redemption includes us, and it also includes those who disagree with us; this redemption includes us, and every person ever in our family line in the past, present, and future. Redemption includes blacks, whites, indigenous, males, females, abled, disabled, gays, straights, and everything and everyone in between. Jesus is the Son of God, and we also believe as Catholics that God is three persons in one God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. We believe that the Father is God, but that the Father is not the Son who is God, and that the Son who is God is not the Holy Spirit who is God. This great paradox is beyond the range of human reason, and it requires that we have faith to wrestle with it, which is, again, our call as Christians. So I call you this week, to wrestle with God, wrestle with His commandments, and to hold in and with love the contradictions, divisions, and paradoxes that are present, and indeed even necessary, in our faith. Love God. Love your brother and sister in Christ, and even through Christ. Love and be loved. Who is the human person? The human person is the body and soul that is created, loved, and redeemed by God.

In the nineteenth episode of the podcast, Fr Parker talks about Flannery O'Connor's second novel, The Violent Bear It Away. O'Connor is a master story teller and a devout Catholic; these gifts allow her to craft characters who are terrible and hateful and show how they interact with the Grace of God in engaging ways. Because Fr Parker still sucks at uploading a podcast nineteen episodes in, this is the third time he's writing the description, so you'll just have to tune in to learn more. Also: rhetorician (n.) -- a master of of formal rhetoric 

In the eighteenth episode of the podcast, Fr Parker talks about the 2020 film, Fatima. This star-studded major-studio production tells the "story" of Our Lady of Fatima in Portugal in 1917 and how she appeared to three young children. Does Fr Parker call it a "story" because he doesn't believe in the truth of Fatima? Oh no. Does he call it a "story" because the film is barely a historical reenacting? Probably--but listen to find out more!

It does, yes. That is, Brooklyn 99 lives up to the hype of a hilarious show that challenges how we deal with social justice issues in our society, with awesome characters and a great sense of humour. Tune in to the seventeenth episode of the podcast to hear more about what Fr Parker thinks about this great sitcom.

In the sixteenth episode of the Podcast, Fr Parker talks about Michael Schur's program, The Good Place. A hilarious show that asked hard questions and challenged the human person in its seasons, did The Good Place live up to the hype? Or does it ultimately propose something broken in the world and in eternity. Hint: the world and eternity are broken without God. Tune in to find out more!

The fifteenth episode of the podcasts addresses CK Chesterton's famous character, Fr Brown, and especially, his rival-turned-ally, Flambeau. What is sin? What is conversion? And who drives these things anyway? Hint: it's someone different for sin and conversion. Tune in to hear Fr Parker talk about who.

In the fourteenth episode, Fr Parker talks about the 2012 film, Damsels in Distress. He answers the important questions like: who are the Damsels in Distress? He answers stranger questions like: who are the Cathars? And he answers less-important-but-more-obviously-relevant questions like who is Violent Wister? Tune in hear all the answers.

In the thirteenth episode of the podcast, Fr Parker talks about Marvel's Agents of Shield. A much beloved show that lasted seven seasons, but still does not get the credit it deserves. The show has strong female action heroes, a great love story, asks us to question what is good and evil, and in the final season, challenges our understanding of sacrifice. What more could you want? At least from the perspective of a Priest who watches too much TV, the answer is nothing!

Fr Parker talks about Tenet, which isn't a whole film in the form of a palindrome, as he expected it might be, but it doesn't mean that these episode notes aren't. Or are they? Rf?

In the eleventh episode of the podcast, Fr Parker tries to talk about all seven books in the the Children of the Last Days series by Michael O'Brien. Each of these seven novels is unique, and each of them is memorable for its own reasons, and so Fr Parker will try to say something unique and memorable about each of them. Will he be able to? Yes. He knows because he's already recorded the Podcast, but presumably the interesting thing is the journey! Right? Tune in to find out!

In the tenth episode, Fr Parker talks about Bill and Ted! Who thought that was a good idea? Fr Parker did, and he definitely regrets it now since the two movies are so surface level that even though they meet God and travel through time, Fr Parker still struggles to come up with something to say. Tune in, though, and at least let Fr Parker know if it's as bad as he thought.

In this week's episode, Fr Parker talks about the Netflix Series, Warrior Nun, which is trashy in all the right ways. He uses the title question to explore the ignorance that the show reveals about Catholicism, but he also talks about some really good things that we, as a Church, can learn from the show.

In the eighth episode of the podcast, Fr Parker looks at Cormac McCarthy's rarely produced play, The Stonemason. He really only answers one question: what is the Stonemason about? But he asks that questions multiple times, and comes up with multiple answers that explore the meaning of masculinity, faith, and work.

In this episode of the podcast, Fr Parker talks about an amazing film called Calvary. Directed by John Michael McDonagh, Calvary depicts the final days of a Priest's life after he is threatened with death in the confessional. A very powerful film that in so many ways is tragic, but in the most important way, is very hopeful. “Do not despair; one of thieves is saved. Do not presume; one of the thieves is damned.

With a particularly fitting meta title, Fr Parker talks about one of his favourite television shows, Community. He answers the questions about and over analyzes jokes about the two most religious episodes of Community.

In this week's episode we talk about Cherie Dimaline's novel, Empire of the Wild. The novel has a supernatural answer to its question about to where Joan's husband, Victor, has disappeared? Fr Parker has his own questions, like what's the difference between a rogarou and a werewolf? And what can we learn from the rogarou?

In the fourth episode of the podcast, Fr Parker talks about the Broadway musical, Hamilton! Recently released onto Disney+, Hamilton tells the story of the founding of America with Alexander Hamilton as the main character, but is he the best character? And what does whoever the best character is teach us about leadership in our lives today? Tune in for the answers to these questions and more.

In this week's episode, Fr Parker talks about the MCU and what makes a hero. He answers the same question about each of the original six Avengers: what is the difference between a hero and a superhero? Do any of the original Avengers have anything to teach those of without powers?

In this week's episode, Fr Parker talks about the BBC series, Fleabag. Created, written, and starring Pheobe Walter-Bridge, Fleabag is a show about a broken woman looking for God's love and the Priest that temporarily forgets his vocation to show it, or so argues Fr Parker. He answers questions like why avoid Season 1 of Fleabag? And also, why everyone needs to watch Season 2 of Fleabag?

In the first episode of the podcast, Fr Parker talks about Zora Neale Hurston's novel, Moses, Man of the Mountain. In the podcasts, he answers questions like who is Hurston's Moses? And why is Moses important to, as Hurston would call it, Afro-folklore?

Hey everybody, here is the official trailer for Cold Drinks, Questions, and Christ. It mostly exists so that you can subscribe as soon as possible so that you can get the episodes as soon as they drop.