Faith That Radiates: Bringing the Nations to the Banquet of the Lord

Readings and Virtual Homily for July 6, 2025, Fourteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time; In Paris as You Are Receiving This —NOT; July Schedule

 Readings for Mass this Sunday:

• Isaiah 66:10-14

• Psalm 66:1-7, 16, 20

• Galatians 6:14-18

• Luke 10:1-12, 17-20

Dear Friends and Family,

First off, my apologies that last weekend's homily arrived so late on Sunday.  I was experiencing "technical difficulties."  They have not, in fact, been resolved, but I trust that this homily will arrive on time.  

This is one of those Sundays when, despite the coordinated efforts of the Vatican committee responsible for the Lectionary, I pretty much draw a blank, seeing any really obvious connections among the readings, so I am not going to try to give this reflection a unified theme.  Rather, we'll look at each reading in turn and leave it, as I sometimes do, for the Holy Spirit to connect the dots.

The first reading is bright with joy in the prospects of Jerusalem, that is, the prospects for God's people.  A future time of great prosperity is prophesied; a time of restoration, of peace, of consolation and comfort.  There are at least a couple different ways to understand such a passage, but one which I favor is that this prophecy from Isaiah refers to the Church, the "New Jerusalem," which will indeed know "prosperity (being spread) over her like a river, like an overflowing torrent, the wealth of nations" (vs. 12).  

The time of the Church is associated, by many Catholic thinkers, with the prophecies of the millennium, or the reign of God on earth.  Our brothers and sisters in the Evangelical wing of the faith would understand Isaiah 66 as referring literally to Jerusalem, the Jewish capital, and to a time, post-Second Coming, of "the millennium" -- a time of a literal and physical reign of Christ on earth, and from his seat of glory and power, Jerusalem.  

This belief is not supported by the Catholic Church.  I mention it simply because Catholics are likely to run into it, in their associations -- colleagues, neighbors, friends -- with Evangelical Christians.  This is one of the major divides between Catholic and Evangelical thinking, on the End Times.  The Evangelicals (for the most part) believe that after Jesus returns to earth he will stay on earth for one thousand years, ruling all nations from Jerusalem.  The Catholic understanding is the Second Coming is it.  The end of history.  Period.  Eternity begins with the Second Coming.

Psalm 66 corresponds to Isaiah 66 in its joyous proclamation of a time when "all the earth falls in worship" before God (vs. 4).  The time of the millennium will be a time when "the nations" (vs. 7) recognize that the God of Israel IS God, and they shall stream forward in joy, at the understanding that they, too, are God's children.

Again, this passage may be interpreted as the time of the Church; "the nations" have, in fact, over the centuries, heard and responded joyfully to the Gospel.  The Catholic faith can be found today in every nation on earth.  

The reading from the Letter to the Galatians (which comprises the final several verses of that book) reinforces the understanding that God is for the nations, the Gentiles, as well as for the Jews.  Paul writes that it means nothing to be circumcised or uncircumcised -- that is, it matters not at all, whether you are Jewish or Gentile -- what matters is "a new creation" (vs. 15).  This new creation is the Church's understanding of that historical time referred to in Scripture as "the millennium."  The time of the Church, the New Jerusalem, is the time of the new creation.  Paul and the disciples were already living it, in the first century.  We are living it today.

The Gospel passage from Luke details the mission of the seventy-two disciples whom Jesus sends out in pairs to preach the Kingdom to the villages and towns of Israel.  The disciples return rejoicing that demons were driven out in Jesus' name; that miraculous healings occurred (vs. 17).  This passage prefigures the many miracles which the disciples perform later, after the Ascension, and which are detailed in Acts of the Apostles.  But this specific mission was to the towns and villages of Israel, to the Jews.  

There is a very famous quote in this passage.  Jesus says to the triumphant disciples, with regard to their power over demons, "Behold, I have observed Satan fall from the sky like lightning," (vs. 18).  Jesus then admonishes the disciples not to "rejoice because the spirits are subject to you but because your names are written in heaven" (vs. 20).

So, if we are to attempt to thread together a theme here, I suppose it might be that there was and is a lot of joy in evangelization, in proclaiming the Good News, in being empowered by the Spirit to bring the nations to faith, and that we can share in that joy in our own faith witness.  Less in what we say about our faith to others, perhaps, than in how we simply live it out.  Live it out in grace and with confidence, bringing faith to bear on any set of difficulties, letting faith give birth to hope and hope to joy.  That is an indisputable way to evangelize, to invite "the nations" to the banquet.

And that, uh, is about as far as I can go in connecting-up this Sunday's readings.

I was supposed to be in London and Paris this week, but was stopped at United ticketing with a request for the new UK electronic visa, now required for entry to Britain for Americans, Canadians, Australians, New Zealanders and maybe some other formerly passport-only countries.  

I pay pretty close attention to the news, and travel news in particular.  I have been watching since 2023 the back-and-forth with the biometric ID stuff they want to start doing for entry to the EU.  If this business of a new visa requirement for Britain had been widely reported, I think I would have heard of it.  Almost no one I have talked to has heard of it.  My friends in London were unaware of it -- and pretty angry about that, too,  They have a lot of visitors from the affected countries.

The folks at United assured me it was a very recent change and that is catching Yanks off-guard all across the country.  They also assured me there was a very stream-lined online application process that would deliver the visa to my phone in an hour's time.  As I had arrived at SFO almost four hours before my flight, the United staff were confident I would get to the gate with time to spare.

And so it looked, after I had completed the application -- I got a congratulations text assuring me my visa would be delivered within the hour.  That was around five PM; my flight departed at 750.  

Then I got a text asking me to re-take the photo of my main passport page; the first one did not meet the standards set for visa issuance, after all.  I re-took the photo and submitted the new shot.  I waited.  Heard nothing.  Re-took the photo and submitted it a third time.  Waited; heard nothing.  Sent a message advising the folks at the visa processing center that I had sent two new photos and that it was getting close to boarding time...heard nothing.  Sent the photo a fourth time, along with a message about the urgency of my situation (and I will add that I paid three and one-half times the normal processing fee in order to get the visa ASAP).

By 735, as boarding was closing at my gate (I never got through security, you understand) I crossed the terminal and went outside to enjoy my $175 cab ride back across the Hayward-San Mateo.  While coming home I texted my friends in London and Paris telling them I'd see them this fall.  It was early morning there, at that point.

 I am spending the unexpected empty days this week and next...working.  For San Gabriel Media.  Tuesday morning (when I had planned to be arriving in London) I set up five meetings with SGM colleagues; planned my first trip south (LA is where we are headquartered) for the summer; and re-worked the July You Tube marketing plan -- money not being spent overseas is going into our summer-long promotional campaign.

Hugely disappointed still, I am rolling pretty well with the punch.  I love everything we do, at San Gabriel, and Hayward is nice, in the summer.  I do plan to travel in the fall.  Inshallah, as they say in Casablanca.  God willing.

Take care.  God bless.

Love,

Fr. Brawn

July Mass Schedule:

Sunday, July 13

• 8 AM (English)

 CATHOLIC COMMUNITY OF PLEASANTON/Seton Campus

• 11 AM (English)

 Sunday, July 20

• 8 AM, 1115 AM (both English)

 Saturday, July 26

• 5 PM (English)

 Sunday, July 27

• 8 AM, 1115 AM (both English)

 Weekday Masses (All 8 AM and English except where indicated)

• Sat, July 12

• Mon, July 14

• Mon, July 21

• Fri, July 25

• Sat, July 26 

• Mon, July 28

• Tues, July 29; ALSO Tues, July 29, 7 PM in Spanish

• Fri, August 1; ALSO Friday, August 1 & PM in Spanish

• Sat, August 2

Martyrs of Rome, Founders of the Church: Honoring Peter and Paul on Their Feast

Readings and Virtual Homily for June 29, 2025, Feast of Saints Peter and Paul; London and Paris This Coming Week

 Readings for Mass this Sunday:

• Acts of the Apostles 12:1-11

• Psalm 34:2-9

• 2 Timothy 4:6-8, 17-18

• Matthew 16:13-19

Dear Friends and Family,

As I imagine most of you are aware, there is a hierarchy, so to speak, among the Church's feast days.  Most are optional, that is, the priest has the option to celebrate say, the Mass in honor of St. Hilary of Poitiers on his feast day, or the regular daily Mass for that day.  Some feast days, however, MUST be observed, must take precedence over the regular celebration of the Mass following the liturgical calendar.  Among these obligatory feast days are those noted as solemnities by the liturgists.  Solemnities are so important that they even pre-empt the Sunday Masses in Ordinary Time, when they fall on Sunday.

We are celebrating such a feast this Sunday.  The Solemnity of the Apostles Peter and Paul.  There is a manual, a guide book, used by priests, to help us keep it all straight with regard to the Church's liturgical seasons and the many feasts, called the Ordo.  "The Ordo," as Sr. Sharon McMillan, one of my professors at the seminary, used to like to assure us future priests, "is our friend."  This densely packed little handbook tells us not only which feast days fall when, and which are obligatory, it also tells us which readings are assigned for any given Mass, what color vestments to wear, provides prompts for a homily for the Sunday readings and so on.  

Following the Ordo's guidance, I am going to give another one of my "Let's let the readings give the homily" reflections here, starting with the reading from Acts of the Apostles.

This reading tells of the first real persecution of the Christian community in Jerusalem; describing how Herod had the Apostle James slain and had Peter arrested and imprisoned under heavy guard.  The reading goes on to describe Peter's visitation by an angel and his miraculous escape from the jail.  Peter, thinking he is having a vision, and actually still in jail, only realizes that he is free when the angel leaves him and he finds himself alone in a dark alley, not far from the house of the family of Mark the evangelist, to which he subsequently goes.  

This escape from the prison, carefully described by Luke (author of Acts) is one of the many miracles in this book of Scripture.  I especially like the detail about the prison's big iron gate on the street opening "by itself" (vs. 10).  The most obvious take-away for us in this passage is that God had plans for Peter that did not take into account Herod's plans for Peter.  God won.  

The verse from the psalm might well be expressing some of what Peter must have been feeling in that moment, the moment he came to his senses in the alley.  "I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise shall always be in my mouth," the psalmist begins Psalm 34.  "This poor one cried out and the Lord heard," the psalm continues, "and from all his distress he saved him.  The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear him and he saves them" (vss. 7-8).

The second reading switches our attention to the feast day's other saint, to Paul.  This is a famous passage.  Paul says that "the time for my departure is at hand," meaning his time on earth is coming to an end (vs. 6).  "I have competed well," Paul says.  "I have finished the race; I have kept the faith.  From now on, the crown of righteousness awaits me" (vs. 7).  

The traditional understanding regarding the two letters to Timothy is that they were written by Paul (or a close associate) from Rome, while Paul was kept under (a fairly comfortable) house arrest there.  If, in fact, Paul himself wrote the letters the sentiments expressed above make eminent good sense, for he did indeed die in Rome under the first Roman persecution of the Christians (during the reign of Nero and thought to have occurred about the year 67).  

Peter also was martyred during this persecution.  The Christians at Rome held the tradition for several centuries that Peter was buried on the slopes of one of Rome's many hills -- Vatican Hill.  In the fourth century, after the Emperor Constantine and his Christian mother, the Empress (and future saint) Helena had brought an end to the persecutions, it was decided to honor the place of Peter's burial, which is how it is that the Christian world's most famous church, St. Peter's, came to be built there, and which is why we refer to the Church's administrative headquarters simply as "the Vatican."

The passage from Matthew is likewise very well known.  It is our "proof text" that Jesus put Peter in charge of the original Christian community.  "You are Peter," Jesus says, "and upon this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it" (vs. 18).  What is more, "I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven," Jesus continues, addressing Peter directly.  "Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven" (vs. 19).

Catholic claims to an authoritative, teaching Church, Catholic insistence that the Church is divinely appointed and uniquely equipped to guide men and women safely toward salvation, may be traced ultimately to these two verses from Matthew.  Which brings us immediately to a consideration of the Apostolic Succession -- that is, that the promise made to Peter did not die when Peter did.  "I will not leave you orphans," Jesus says, in John's version of the Last Supper (John 14:18).  

Nor did he.  He left us with a mother, as we are fond of putting it; Jesus left us with an authoritative, divinely protected institution which will endure until the end of history.  We all know only too well the frailty of the Church's human members, of her leaders.  That is beside the specific point I am stressing here: Jesus assured Peter that the Church, HIS Church as he himself insists ("on this rock I will build MY Church") will endure, a rock and refuge, until the end of time. 

Just last month we saw the promise of Jesus handed on to Peter's latest successor.  Pope Leo XIV is 267th in the Apostolic Succession, 267th in the line stretching back to Peter himself.  That reality, and more, is what we celebrate in today's feast, the Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul, Apostles.

We are coming up on a month since graduation at Bishop O'Dowd, that is, one month into not just my summer vacation, but my sabbatical.  To date, most of my sabbatical work has consisted of meetings.  We have substantial plans at San Gabriel Media, in terms of how to use the coming half year, given my availability.  The meetings have covered marketing strategy as much as they have video content, book and video production timelines and so forth.  We are about one thing at San Gabriel: Evangelization.  That is, we are about getting the Word out, and getting it out in the form of an invitation.  An invitation to a banquet.  The banquet analogy, in fact, appears to be one we will be incorporating into our presentations on You Tube.  It is straight from Scripture, after all, and it suggests something of the light, the grace and joy with which we hope to infuse our efforts.

Although this sabbatical is about getting work done at SGM, I will be taking a couple of nice trips over the coming months.  I leave for London Monday evening.  Will be in Paris, too.  Seeing close friends in both cities.  Back July 9 -- it is just five nights in London and three in Paris, because as I say, I have work to do in California.

I'll get an e-mail sent from Paris next week!

Hope this finds you well and happy.  Enjoy the early summer!

Love,

Fr. Brawn

The Priesthood of Christ and the Miracle of the Eucharist – June 22, 2025

Readings and Virtual Homily for June 22, 2025, Feast of Corpus Christi; San Gabriel Media Hits a Milestone; Thanks for the Father's Day Wishes; What's Left of the June Schedule

Readings for Mass, this Sunday: 

• Genesis 14:18-20

• Psalm 110:1-4

• 1 Corinthians 11:23-26

• Luke 9:11-17

 Dear Friends and Family,

 This Sunday being the Feast of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Jesus, also known as Corpus Christi, all four readings bear directly on a consideration of the Eucharistic Lord, Jesus as both priest and sacrifice; Jesus as truly present in the Eucharistic species, his body and blood being the very means of our salvation.

The first reading and the psalm invite us to reflect on Jesus as priest.  The entire Letter to the Hebrews concerns itself with this fascinating study -- about as deep as our theology gets, short of the Trinity itself.  But earlier passages in Scripture, including, of course, the Gospel accounts of the Last Supper, also reflect the priesthood of Jesus -- the first priest in known history to offer himself on the altar.

(A time-out here to remind ourselves that priesthood exists, in any religion from the most primitive to today, for one purpose: to offer sacrifice to the divine realm.  Priests -- in any religion -- may perform other services for their people as well, but their primary responsibility, and one which only they can carry out, is to offer sacrifice.)

The first reading, from the fourteenth chapter of Genesis, that is, very early on in terms of the story of salvation, gives us Abraham (still being called Abram at this point) thanking God for his victory over several rival kings, freeing his nephew Lot and Lot's household in the process.  From nowhere, it seems, appears Melchizedek, described as "King of Salem and priest of God most high" (vs. 18).  Clearly an ally of Abraham, Melchizedek assists in the celebrations by offering sacrifice to God on Abraham's behalf.  At a time when priests and priestesses in almost all of the world's religions were sacrificing animals and/or human beings to their deities, Melchizedek offers...bread and wine. 

Melchizedek then disappears from Genesis and it would seem, from history itself.  He is mentioned in today's psalm, where the psalmist makes a startling prediction about the coming Messiah.  The Messiah will be not just a king and a conqueror, a savior and a liberator.  The Messiah will be a priest.  "A priest forever, according to the line of Melchizedek" (vs. 4). 

The prediction is startling not just because it tells the Jewish people to expect a Priest-Messiah.  It is startling because it tells them (and us) that the Messiah, though Jewish, will not share in the priesthood of Aaron, will not be a Jewish priest.  Rather, the Messiah's priesthood is from the greatest antiquity, the time when Abraham was still being called Abram; hundreds of years before the establishment of the Jewish priesthood under Moses.

This priesthood -- the Priesthood of Melchizedek -- which one might fairly term cosmic and ahistorical -- is in fact the Priesthood of Jesus Christ, in which all Catholic (and Orthodox) priests have a share today.  This priesthood becomes historical, comes down to earth to stay, so to speak, only at the Last Supper, when the Lord institutes the new covenant in his blood, a new covenant which will be served by a new priesthood.  Well, no, actually, by the ancient and original priesthood, the Priesthood of Melchizedek.

I have written on this before, but it bears repeating.  Most Scripture scholars, Catholic, Orthodox and Protestant are in agreement -- Melchizedek is the pre-incarnate Christ.  

Jesus himself gives us a glimpse of the cosmic nature of his priesthood in the passage from today's Gospel.  The miracle of the loaves and the fish prefigures the miracle of the Eucharist in several ways, but one of the most obvious is simply that there is no running out of the loaves and the fish.  If we think literally about the Eucharist (and today's feast is a very good day for doing that) its miraculous nature is immediately apparent.  Not just in that the bread and wine are transformed; become the body and blood of Jesus, but that his body and blood are inexhaustible, they are perpetually available to us.  

The body and blood of Jesus are the "pure sacrifice" described by the prophet Malachi, five hundred years before the Last Supper.  This pure sacrifice, Malachi foretells, is offered continuously "from farthest east to farthest west;" that is, it is offered unceasingly at Catholic and Orthodox altars around the world, time zone after time zone after time zone, Mass after Mass after Mass.  Jesus' body and blood are perpetually available to us all around the world until the end of time.  And, a detail Malachi emphasizes, this sacrifice is not offered by the Jewish priests.  It is offered by the priests of a different priesthood -- it is offered by the Gentiles (Malachi 1:11).

Paul references the reality of the ongoing and true presence of the Lord in the Eucharist in his description of the Last Supper to the Corinthians.  In verse 27, which is just past today's passage, Paul admonishes his audience not to receive the Eucharist without discerning the body and blood of the Lord.  Here Paul reinforces the doctrine of transubstantiation (specifically formulated, of course, centuries later).  In his reminder to the Corinthians of the real presence, Paul underscores the great reality we celebrate this Sunday; the reality of the body and blood of Christ, always and everywhere available to us, in the Eucharist.  

I have a praise report regarding our initial foray into marketing at San Gabriel Media.  As I've mentioned in earlier e-mails, we began a summer-long promotional campaign on our You Tube channel last month.  On May 9, the day we launched the campaign, we had 278 resolute and loyal subscribers.  Within a week, we had over seven thousand; at Memorial Day we topped 25,000.  This Wednesday evening we passed the 100,000 mark.  

This growth has been in response to our series on the Acts of the Apostles.  We decided to run with Acts because it was the Easter season, and Acts is the first reading at Mass throughout the period of Easter.  We had thought we would discontinue the Acts promotion at Pentecost; replacing it with a promotion of one of our other programs.  (We have four series in release at the moment.)

But Acts is performing so well that we decided to extend its run, so to speak.  We will continue to feature it until the second week in July.  We'll evaluate where things are at that time, but the current plan is to switch to another of our series, for the mid-summer stretch of the campaign.  

All of us at San Gabriel are -- impressed -- at how well our series on Acts is doing.  I suppose it helps that this is, after all, my favorite book in the Bible.  I imagine my enthusiasm for it comes across in the episodes.  In any event, people literally around the world are evidently finding it worthwhile; we are off to a strong start with this effort.  It is only one among several marketing strategies that we plan to put into play, the second half of the year.  

Finally, my thanks to everyone who sent me a text or e-mail, or in some cases a mailed card, last weekend, for Father's Day.  I appreciate very much that people remember priests on that day, though as I said at all my Masses last weekend, compared to the real thing, priestly fatherhood is a walk in the park.  A walk in the park on a bright and breezy day, no less.  

All the same, the many thoughtful expressions of joy and support were happily received -- and while I am here, a month after the fact, my thanks as well to all who remembered the anniversary of my ordination, May 20.  This was number nineteen -- next year we will throw a party!  I had a very good life before I was ordained.  I have had an almost unbelievably good life, though, in the nineteen years since.  

An appropriate note on which to end a homily about the Priesthood of Christ!

Take good care and God bless you.  Happy official start to summer!

Fr. Brawn

I evidently never sent the June Mass schedule, for which I apologize.  Here is what is left of it:

Sunday, June 22

8 and 1115 AM (both English)

Saturday, June 28

5 PM (English)

Sunday, June 29

630 PM (English)

Weekday Masses (English at 8 AM):

Monday, June 23

Saturday, June 28

Trinity Sunday Homily: Divine Mystery and the Seven Ecumenical Councils

Readings and Virtual Homily, June 15, Trinity Sunday; Been to Boston; Saddling Up for the Sabbatical

Readings for Mass this Sunday:

•  Proverbs 8:22-31

• Psalm 8:4-9

• Romans 5:1-5

• John 16:12-15

 Dear Friends and Family,

When it comes to preaching, Trinity Sunday is one of my favorite days of the year.  I suppose this is simply because the subject of the Trinity is so vast, so deep and so mysterious.  This is the single greatest mystery of the Christian faith -- the truly unfathomable mystery that within the Divine Being there are three Persons.  Within the Divine Being there is interPersonal love.  Within the Divine Being there is actually a template for what human love might look like and aspire to.  We are, after all, made in the image and likeness of God, and we are called to interpersonal love.

The doctrine of the Trinity represents an advance on previous human conceptions of the divine.  No real surprise here since after all, the fact of the existence of three Divine Persons within the Godhead is a matter of revelation.  We did not arrive at this understanding by the strength and perception of our own reasoning powers. 

(Though in fairness to the ancient Greeks, the concept of a divine dynamism described as the One, the Logos -- or Word -- and the World-Soul came strikingly close to the Christian concept.  The premiere difference between this sophisticated Greek philosophical understanding and ours is, of course, the Personalism of the Trinity; is the reality of that Tri-Personal love within the Divine Being and of its overflowing into creation.  The Tri-Personal God loves.  Within the Godhead.  And outside of it; God loves us.  

 (And if you are already scratching your head, dear reader, no worries.  We are pretty much at my limit here, as well.  This is, after all, GOD we are talking about.  It would be surprising, I think, if we COULD wrap our minds around the Being that created the Milky Way and the Andromeda galaxies, the quasars and inter-galactic stellar dust clouds and everything else being photographed and mapped by the Hubble and the James Webb telescopes...As G. K. Chesterton so admirably put it, over a century ago, a God small enough to fit inside his head was not a God worthy of his worship.  So...you do not totally get the whole Trinity thing?  No worries.  No one does.)

I know that on previous Trinity Sundays I have rolled out some of my favorite analogies and images -- the sort that I use to help the sophomores get a grip in my Christian Scriptures classes at Bishop O'Dowd.  Today, I am going to go in a different direction, the direction of the development of doctrine.  

The concept of the Trinity, there from the outset of the Christian faith and quite discernible in Scripture, was nonetheless in need of clarification as the early centuries of the Church unfolded.  Questions, about Jesus primarily, but also about the Holy Spirit, arose and had to be answered.  Depending on how they were answered, humanity would have one understanding of God, or another.  This process was centuries in its development, and can largely be traced through the records of seven meetings of Church leaders known collectively as the Seven Ecumenical Councils.  These councils occurred between the years 325 and 787.

I'll point out here, just for clarification, that there have been many other councils of the Church.  The first was held in Jerusalem in 51 AD when the question, which no one had thought of before, suddenly arose, given the large influx of Gentiles to the faith: "Do you have to become Jewish in order to become a follower of Christ?"  The Council of Jerusalem is detailed in chapter fifteen of Acts of the Apostles, in the event that you would like to read about it.  (Spoiler alert: The Council of Jerusalem ruled that no, you do not have to become Jewish to become Christian.)

As noted, there have been many councils since.  Some have dealt with matters of liturgical practice, Church governance and discipline (such as celibacy for priests and religious) and so on.  Some, such as the Council of Trent, in the sixteenth century, have met widespread heresy head-on.  

The Seven Ecumenical Councils had a different agenda: They were responsible for laying and ensuring the very foundation of the faith itself.  This foundation had largely to do with our understanding of God.  That is, this foundation had largely to do with defining the truth about the Trinity.  As questions arose, answers were needed.  The Seven Ecumenical Councils, convened by and acting under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, provided those answers and -- really, no other way to put it -- defined God.  I'll give just a couple of examples.

The first of the Ecumenical Councils was the Council of Nicaea (more precisely, the First Council of Nicaea) held in the summer of 325, at Nicaea, something of a fourth century seaside resort near Constantinople (modern Istanbul) which by then had become the capital of the Roman Empire.  The council was called to address the question, which no one had evidently much considered before, of whether Jesus was actually divine, or simply the most exalted of creatures. This question was raised by an Egyptian priest named Arius and the heresy now associated with it bears his name, the Arian Heresy.   

In the interest of brevity I will spare you the details, but the council met, debated, discerned, prayed, placed itself under the guidance of the Spirit and voted -- voted 402 to 4 -- that Jesus is, in fact, divine.  He is the Second Person of the Trinity.  The Arian Heresy threatened the very basis of our understanding of God.  It denied the Trinity.  It has been resurrected in our times by our dear (I mean that, they are dear to me!) Jehovah's Witnesses.  The doctrinal formula established at Nicaea in the summer of 325 is summed up in the Nicene Creed, which we recite every Sunday at Mass.  

A contrasting view of Jesus was that which was taken up by the Fourth Ecumenical Council, the Council of Chalcedon, in 451.  Again, without going into details, here the question was not at all whether Jesus was truly divine, but whether he was truly human, whether he had, in fact, a fully formed and independent human nature.  The ramifications of this debate were enormous.  If Jesus was not truly and fully human, what did that mean for his apparent suffering and death?  

Chalcedon (once again, a suburb of Constantinople), a council attended by more than 500 bishops, ruled that Jesus possessed a fully human nature, as well as being fully divine.  That is, Jesus really did suffer and die.  That is, Jesus really does know what it is to be human.  And that is, this Jesus who truly knows what it is to be human -- this Jesus, fully human, is God.

Understand, this is waaaaay nut-shell summary here, of both the councils in question.  But I offer this assessment as testimony to the landmark importance of the Seven Ecumenical Councils, which largely defined our understanding of the nature of the Godhead.  Not just the Catholic Church, but also all of the Orthodox and almost all of the Protestant churches accept the decisions, the doctrinal formulations, of the Seven Ecumenical Councils.  These councils were foundational, in terms of our understanding of what we celebrate today, the great and fathomless mystery of the Holy Trinity.

And, just to provide a tie-in with today's Scripture readings: Jesus tells the apostles in today's passage from John that he has "much more to tell you, but you cannot bear it now.  But when he comes, the Spirit of truth, he will guide you to all truth" (vss. 12-13).  

This is precisely what occurred at the Seven Ecumenical Councils.

I went to Boston over the last weekend, for the graduation from high school of my sister Flo's youngest, my nephew Naizejha.  (Say it like Isaiah with an N at the start.)  Oh my gosh.  Naizejha is so.. zen.  So chill.  So cool.  So warm.  So open.  So hopeful.  I have written in these homilies for a year now about my love for the O'Dowd class of 2025.  Well, here was a graduate of the class of 2025 from my own family, and I could not be more proud of him.  Flo, dying of cancer, during Naizejha's freshman year, so very much wanted to live to see him graduate.  He (and his sisters, both a few years older) make me want to live -- in good health and mentally alert -- into my 80s, just to see what they will accomplish in life.  On both coasts, the Class of 2025 gives me deep hope for the future.

I love Boston in any event.  The city reminds me in various ways of San Francisco, New York and London, and I love all those cities as well, so...easy to see, I guess, why I am so enamoured of Boston.  It is one of the few places in our country beyond our state lines where I feel I could happily reside.  I stay with very close friends there, when I am in town.  That no doubt helps.

The trip East marked a line for me.  End of the school year (with my nephew's graduation) and the beginning of the summer, the "seven month summer" of my sabbatical.  This is, as I have mentioned before, a work sabbatical.  I am not taking time off to study or to travel.  I will be here at my beloved St. Clement straight through the time away from the high school and even at O'Dowd, I am committed to all four of our autumn semester retreats and to several on-campus Masses.  This sabbatical is about our efforts at evangelization at San Gabriel Media.  I may be able to say more on that, next e-mail, but this one is long enough!

Take good care.  God bless.

Yours in the Trinity,

Fr. Brawn

Pentecost Sunday 2025: The Holy Spirit’s Power in Our Lives

Readings and Virtual Homily for June 8, 2025, Pentecost Sunday; The Class of 2025 (Is Promising to Stay in Touch); Hayward's Blonde Hills; Taking a Boston Break

 Readings for Mass this Sunday, the Feast of Pentecost

•  Acts of the Apostles 2:1-11

• Psalm 104:1, 24, 29-31, 34

• 1 Corinthians 12:3-7, 12-13

•    or

• Romans 8:8-17

• John 20:19-23

•    or

• John 14:15-16, 23-26

Dear Friends and Family,

The Feast of Pentecost deserves to be ranked among the most significant of the many feasts on the liturgical calendar.  It is about something as immense as Christmas, after all -- it is about the coming in power into the world of one of the Persons of the Trinity.  The Second Person came to us as a baby in Mary's arms; the Third Person comes to us as the Advocate, the Comforter, the Spirit of Truth and the Bearer of many gifts.  The entire book of the Acts of the Apostles is a testament to the gift of the Spirit to us, and of the Spirit's many gifts to us.

The readings today in various ways attest to the coming of the Spirit and the power of the Spirit.  As there are several options among them and as I have preached Pentecost homilies close to the Scriptural references to the Spirit in the past, I want with this one to take a brief look at the references to the Holy Spirit in the Catechism of the Catholic Church.  The following titles and descriptions of the Holy Spirit are from the Index of the Catechism; clearly one can go deep with any of them, by referencing that volume.  But just consider a few of these Index items, regarding the Holy Spirit.  They tend to speak for themselves.

The Holy Spirit, the Catechism tells us, is

•  Consubstantial with the Father and the Son

• The Source of all holiness

• The Source and Master of prayer

• The principal Author of Scripture

• The Paraclete

• The Spirit of Truth

• The Living Memory of the Church

• Cloud and light

• Fire

• The Finger of God

• The Hand of God 

• The Dove

The Holy Spirit, the Catechism tells us, does, among other things, the following

•  Animates all creation

• Awakens faith

• Comes unceasingly into the world

• Enables communication with Christ

• Grants gifts to all

• Helps us grow in spiritual freedom

• Restores the divine likeness

• Reveals God

• Reveals the Trinity

• Brings about unity in the Church

• Directs and supports the Church

• Takes responsibility for the Church's mission

• Empowers the Sacraments

• Shelters sinners

• Shares a joint mission with the Son

• Is responsible for conversion

• Forgives sins

There is more.  You get the idea.  The Third Person, as one of my sisters is fond of saying, "is no bench warmer."  Today's first reading, describing the descent of the Holy Spirit upon Mary and the disciples at Pentecost, initiates the joyful, adventurous and Spirit-led narrative of Acts of the Apostles.  In joy, in faith, with courage and with power, the disciples throw open the shutters, cross out onto the balconies and begin to preach of the wonders of God; casting behind them forever their fear and hesitancy.  The birth of the Church was the result.  

The coming of the Third Person in power upon the disciples at Pentecost was and is a gift "that keeps on giving;" as the Catechism points out, the Spirit comes unceasingly into the world.  And don't kid yourself -- you know the Spirit better than you probably think.  You are united with the Spirit every time you are moved to pray, every time you are inclined toward some good action or other, every time you go to Mass.  Our lives as disciples are lived in, with, through and by the Holy Spirit.  When you tell Jesus you love him, you do so by the power of the Spirit, who knows you, loves you, motivates you and acts in and through you.  The Spirit IS God within us; that is why we call our bodies temples of the Holy Spirit (1 Corinthians 6:19). 

Well, as you know from my last e-mail, we graduated the Class of 2025 at O'Dowd last Saturday morning.  Prior to COVID, O'Dowd graduations happened at the Paramount Theatre in downtown Oakland -- it was a fittingly gilded venue for our seniors and for O'Dowd's sense of self.  Since 2020, graduations have happened at the high school.  The 2020 graduation was done as a drive-through, with graduates and their families following the parking lanes around the campus, which lanes were lined by staff and faculty.  Some grads, in cap and gown, took their chances to alight from the family vehicle and snap a quick photo with an esteemed faculty member; I remember several of my favorites from that class, so honoring me.  

Since May, 2021, our graduations have been on the football field, which accompanies significantly more family members than even a venue the size of the Paramount, and, much as I was a bit spell-bound by the ceremony and pageantry of the Paramount graduations, I really like our on-the-field-at-our-campus graduations of the past several years.

I have "preferred seating," of course, at our graduations -- on the stage where I can look out and see everyone and everything.  I also get close-up views of each senior receiving his/her diploma from our President (Kim Walsh), marveling as I do every May, at how Kim manages to make each "Congratulations" and a few other quick words of affirmation, spoken along with the student's first name, real, genuinely warm and joyful, student after student after student after 334 more students...

It was just a little poignant for me, sitting there with my close-up view, of the seniors crossing the stage in their graduation finery, accepting their diplomas and so marking the end of their O'Dowd careers.  For as I have said before, this class stole my heart, from their very first days on campus.  They are the only class I ever taught as freshmen. They are the only class I taught as seniors.  I taught half of them, of course, as well, during their sophomore year, which is when I really began to get to know them.  I postponed my sabbatical, rather than miss a day of their senior year.  I will miss them.

But they have given me abundant assurances that they have no intention of losing touch.  In evidence, perhaps, that my feeling for 2025 is returned, I have had e-mails from several members of the class, since last Saturday; I have had texts.  (At their graduation, I give my cell to students who tell me they want to stay in touch.)  I have had some astonishing testimonies to the difference I have made in the lives of some of these wonderful teens.  And I have had assurances that they intend to remain in touch.  Several of them, in fact, are planning to help us with future creative projects, involving music and Scripture dramatization, at San Gabriel Media.  More on that bright prospect, I hope, in future e-mails.

In any event, 2025 has flown the nest.  I do feel that my colleagues and I have prepared them well for the next exciting chapter in their young lives.

It is Thursday evening as I am getting this homily written and I am sitting here in my suite in the rectory looking out at the bare slopes which rise above our property line here at St. Clement.  The wintergreen shade of the hills, already in rapid retreat by late April, has disappeared completely, of course, this first week of June.  But as I have said before, I love our hills here in Hayward, regardless of their color, and their color this evening, as the sunlight fades, is really best described neither as brown nor yellow, nor even gold, but -- blonde.  A bright, soft, shimmery blonde.  Striking.  Beautiful.  And with twenty-plus head of cattle, peacefully grazing on them, into the bargain.  I love our hills here in Hayward.  I come from farm country, after all.  From our house in Marysville, when I was a kid, when I was a young man, when I was a fifty-something priest, we could look out to the Sutter Buttes -- slopes, like ours here in Hayward, that were green four or at most five months of the year, golden, really, blonde, late spring until deep into the winter.  It took a very wet start to the rainy season for the Buttes to be green by Christmas.  But they were always green by my birthday -- near the end of January -- and it is the same with our hills here at St. Clement.  It is hard to describe the serenity I gain, simply looking out on our hills here.  Especially given the stark contrast with our view in the opposite direction -- Mission Boulevard and its urban bustle.  Our parish sits on the dividing line, urban and rural, here in south Hayward.

Finally, I am starting the summer and sabbatical with a quick get-away to one of my top quick get-away destinations: Boston.  Flying Friday night and (God willing) will be there as you are reading this.  One of my nephews, speaking of the Class of 2025, is graduating from high school this weekend -- this is my sister Flo's youngest; Flo, of course, having died three years ago this week, as my nephew was completing his freshman year.  A substantial number of family will be in Massachusetts this weekend; I am looking forward to the trip, several days of which will be spent with dear friends in Boston -- which for years now has held pride of place with me, among our East Coast metropolises.  Will be back mid-week.

Hope this finds you well and happy.  My best wishes for a Spirit-filled Pentecost; indeed, a Spirit-filled summer.

Love,

El Padre

Seventh Sunday of Easter: Embracing the Ascension – Homily Insights

Readings and Virtual Homily, June 1, 2025, Seventh Sunday of Easter and Feast of the Ascension; Sayonara, Class of 2025; Officially on Sabbatical; Moving Right Along at San Gabriel Media

Readings for Mass this Sunday:

• Acts of the Apostles 1:1-11

• Psalm 47:2-3, 6-9

• Ephesians 1:17-23

•    or

• Hebrews 9:24-28; 10:19-23

• Luke 24:46-53

Dear Friends and Family:

The Feast of the Ascension offers a variety of homiletic possibilities.  Among other things, I have used the readings for this feast to preach on the nature of the glorified body, on the goodness of the material creation, and on what we know about life in Heaven.  Rather than re-tread any of those, I think this week I will just go with a brief look, as I sometimes do, at each reading, and leave it to the Spirit to connect the dots.

The first reading from the opening of Acts of the Apostles is, of course, Luke's description of the Ascension itself.  Luke tells us that the disciples ask Jesus if he is, "at this time going to restore the kingdom of Israel" (vs. 6).  Jesus explains that it is not for us to "know the times or seasons that the Father has established by his own authority" (vs. 7).

The disciples clearly were not yet fully on board, in terms of understanding their mission, let alone the general plan of salvation.  Many, if not almost all, citizens of Israel in the first century were looking for the Messiah, and the Messiah, they almost all thought, would "restore the kingdom of Israel."  That is, the Messiah would overthrow Rome and establish Jerusalem as the world's true capital, the world's spiritual capital; mother city to the nations.  In fairness to the Jewish people at the time, the future of Jerusalem is so described repeatedly in the prophets and the psalms.  It is easily understandable that the people were looking for a military conqueror, in the Messiah.

Jesus then advises the disciples to sit tight in Jerusalem until they "receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you," further assuring them that they will be his "witnesses...to the ends of the earth" (vs. 8).  In this promise, Jesus gives the disciples a deep insight into the matter and manner of their imminent mission, which mission, of course, comprises the rest of the book of the Acts of the Apostles.  Luke then describes the Ascension itself.

"When he had said this, as they were looking on, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him from their sight.  While they were looking intently at the sky as he was going, suddenly two men dressed in white garments stood beside them" (vss. 9-10).  

The two men -- angels, of course -- inform the disciples that Jesus will return from heaven, just as they have seen him ascend toward it (vs. 11).

Psalm 47 is a rousing paean to the Kingship of Christ, though of course, it could be read as simply testifying to the Kingship of God.  The Jewish people to this day doubtless read the psalm in that way.  But that it refers to Jesus (who is, of course, God) may be inferred from its description of God mounting his throne amid great celebration.  The clear implication is that God is "ascending" to his rightful place.  Describing the Lord as "the Most High...the great king over all the earth," (vs. 3) the psalmist continues

"God has gone up with a shout; the Lord, amid trumpet blasts.  Sing praise to God, sing praise to our King, sing praise.  For God is king over all the earth...God rules over the nations; God sits upon his holy throne..." (vss. 6-9).

Viewed through the Christian lens, this is unmistakably ascension imagery.  

There is an option with regard to the second reading.  The first of the two possibilities, that from Ephesians, describes Jesus as raised from the dead and seated at the right hand of the Father 

"...in the heavens, far above every principality, authority, power and dominion and every name that is named not only in this age but also in the one to come.  And he (that is, God) put all things beneath his feet and gave him as head over all things..." (vss. 20-22).  

Again, the imagery is of Jesus "ascending" to his place of glory and honor, a place above the entire created order.

The other option for the second reading is a passage from the Letter to the Hebrews, a book which contains substantial Ascension, or, "Christ in heaven" imagery.  Here the author of Hebrews (who is unknown) reminds us that Christ, our High Priest, in ascending to the Father

"...did not enter into a sanctuary made by hands, a copy of the true one, but heaven itself, that he might now appear before God on our behalf...therefore, brothers, since through the blood of Jesus we have confidence of entry into the sanctuary by the new and living way he opened for us...and since we have a 'great priest over the house of God,' let us approach in absolute trust..." (9:24, 10:19-22).  

Here, the author of Hebrews reminds us that where the head has gone, the body will follow.  And this feast should, of course, remind us of the glory that awaits us over the threshold of eternity.

The Gospel passage is the very end of Luke's Gospel, and unlike the detailed version of the event provided at the start of Acts, here Luke merely mentions the Ascension.  Mark's is the other Gospel to speak of the Ascension, and his description, too, is prosaic; matter of fact, accomplished in one verse (Mark 16:19).  It is the description from Acts that really "visualizes" the event, astounding as it must have been, for the disciples.  

I'll close with a fairly obvious observation, but one worth making all the same.  Jesus arrived at the joy and glory of the Ascension only after enduring Good Friday.  It can be helpful, when we find ourselves experiencing our own Good Fridays, to remember the joy of the Ascension; it can help us hang on in hope through life's darker moments.  

We officially wrap the semester and the academic year this week.  As I am writing this Thursday afternoon, I still have a make-up final to administer for several students who missed the deadline for their in-class final project, tomorrow.  I will be grading, as well, now through the weekend.  But the Baccalaureate Mass is tomorrow (Friday) evening and graduation Saturday morning.  My cherished Class of 2025 will proudly and joyfully walk the commencement stage and -- leave O'Dowd.  

I will miss them, but as I have said before, I myself will not be back at O'Dowd next semester; this weekend officially starts my sabbatical.  Seven months of creative work, underwritten by my breezy and joyful responsibilities here at St. Clement.  I have told friends this will be sort of like a seven-month summer, as I have spent my ten summers here in the parish pursuing just those two happy sets of responsibilities: creative work, parish ministry.  

I do have some travel plans, but they amount to barely fifty days, spread out across seven months (that is, 226 days -- not that I have been counting, or nothin').  Earlier this week, I drew up a start-of-the-sabbatical to-do list, that is, bullet points outlining what I hope to have done before my first overseas trip (ten days in Paris and London) July 1.  The list is seventeen items long and the items involve writing, filming, editing, getting to LA for meetings, Zoom calls with the marketing team (who are far-flung, not just in the state but across the country) and so on.  

I'll have a list maybe twice this length, when I return from that first trip; I plan to spend two straight months, July 10 to past Labor Day, working on San Gabriel projects, before venturing off for another overseas trip.  The idea is to get a lot, a lot done, the first several months of the sabbatical and then -- if I have gotten enough done -- reward myself with a couple of nice trips in the autumn.  

Meanwhile, the timing of it all, as mentioned last week, seems unmistakable, given the You Tube marketing rollout.  Last week at this time we had 23,000 subscribers; this afternoon we are headed toward 43,000.  We are picking up close to three thousand new subscribers a day.  This is awesome.  It is also provoking in me a new sense, a profound sense, of expanded responsibility and I don't doubt I'll be sharing some of that sense with you, over the coming months.  How much of a relationship can I really hope to develop with my subscribers, who already have my deep gratitude?  You know I am gonna be grappling with that question!

Well, remembering the gentle admonishment from a couple weeks ago ("That was one LONG homily, Father!") and acknowledging that I have ignored concerns about length, with this week's homily, I will close here.  

Here's to summer!  Here's to a "seven-month" summer!

Take care and God bless.

Love and Joy in Our Ascended Lord,

Fr. Brawn

The Spirit's Role in Scripture and Tradition | Sixth Sunday of Easter Reflection

Readings and Virtual Homily for May 25, 2025, Sixth Sunday of Easter; Last Day of Classes at O’Dowd; San Gabriel Media on the Taxi-way

Readings for Mass this Sunday:

• Acts 15:1-2, 22-29

• Psalm 67:2-3, 5-6, 8

• Revelation 21:10-14, 22-23

• John 14:23-29

Dear Friends and Family,

Lots of possibilities for a solid and insightful homily this weekend across several areas of theological reflection; I am going to keep it simple and focus on the Gospel passage.

Chapters 13-17 are John’s description of the Last Supper.  The other three Gospels sum that event up in fifteen or twenty verses.  John takes five chapters.  

Part of the reason is the time John takes to recount Jesus’ descriptions of the Holy Spirit, whom he promises will be sent, once he has returned to the Father.  Jesus says several things about the Spirit in these passages; I want to focus today on his promise that the Spirit will remind the disciples of all that Jesus said and did (vs. 26).

This promise of course dovetails with our general understanding of the Spirit as the principal Author of Scripture.  We know from magisterial teaching that the Spirit underwrites, enables and effects communication with and about God.  The Spirit is responsible for our understanding of God.  No one can say Jesus Christ is Lord, Paul tells us, except by the power of the Spirit.  

Jesus’ promise that the Spirit will prompt the disciples in their teachings of all that Jesus said and did is first fulfilled in the oral tradition — the eyewitness testimony transmitted through the preaching of the disciples in the first two or three decades after the Ascension. The promise is further made real as the first books of the New Testament start to be written — perhaps as early as the 50s, just twenty years after Jesus walked the earth.

The Spirit is responsible not just for Scripture but also sacred Tradition; those teachings, understandings and practices handed down generation to generation and century to century from the Apostolic Age to our own.  In this regard the Catechism refers to the Spirit as “the living memory of the Church.”  I like that phrasing!  I think we could go deep with that, if we had the time!

The living memory of the Church, of course, includes more than the doctrinal formulations of the great councils.  And it is more than rite and ritual surrounding prayer, worship and the sacraments.  The living memory of the Church includes all the Church’s many apostolates — from soup kitchens to hospitals to universities to evangelical associations.  The living  memory of the Church likewise includes the mystical tradition of the saints, from theologians to visionaries, and it includes apparitions of Jesus, of the Blessed Mother, St. Michael and others.  

All of these elements of the faith are empowered and guaranteed by the Holy Spirit.  Our appreciation of these and all aspects of the faith is empowered by the Holy Spirit.  Our very desire to know anything at all about God is empowered by the Holy Spirit.  

We owe our salvation to Jesus.  We owe to the Holy Spirit the fact that we understand that we owe our salvation to Jesus.  And that, again, is a matter we could plunge deep with, if this were a weekend retreat rather than a Sunday homily!

School is just about out at O’Dowd.  Friday was the last day of classes.  Finals are next week; the Class of 2025, whether I like it or not, walks the stage at graduation Saturday, May 31.  Maybe it is my deep affection for this class, maybe it is for other reasons — this May, for maybe the first time in my ten years at the high school, I am not panting and gasping, crossing the finish line.  The weeks since Easter vacation have passed smoothly, gracefully, joyfully.  It has been a light and bright late spring on campus, for me.  I do not feel tired at all.  That’s as welcome as it is rare!

Finally, two weeks ago we plunged in with the first of several marketing strategies at San Gabriel Media, my book-and-media apostolate.  The particular avenue is direct You Tube promotion; something we just were not ready to engage, prior to this month.  Two weeks ago, Friday the 9th, the day we started the promotion, we had 278 loyal and dogged subscribers at San Gabriel.  Last Friday, the 16, we had 5900, in five countries.  As I am writing this Thursday evening, the 22, we are well over 23,000 and are gaining two to three thousand subscribers daily.

These numbers speak for themselves and for the effectiveness of our strategy — which has caught all of us a bit off-guard.  We did not know what to expect.  We figured we would know when we experienced it, whatever “it” was.  Given this initial success, we are committing to a summer-long effort here, involving four phases.  We’ll take stock after Labor Day.  And this is only one of several marketing strategies we intend to launch, this summer.

In the lingo of the You Tube world, the San Gabriel Media channel is “blowing up.”  The timing — that this is happening precisely as I am about to start a seven-month sabbatical, is unmistakable.  I postponed the sabbatical twice, both times out of concerns for what was best for the high school.  In neither instance, however, was San Gabriel in anything close to the position it is in this May — now, clearly, is the right time for me to devote half a year to San Gabriel.  

God’s timing is always perfect.  

Gotta run.

Enjoy the holiday weekend.  

God bless.

Love,

Fr. Brawn

Acts 14:21–27: Paul’s Mission and the Origins of Priesthood

Readings and Virtual Homily for Mass, May 18, 2025, Fifth Sunday of Easter; A Marian Moment in a Marian Month; Deep Dish at the Vatican Part Two; One Week Left to Summer, to Summer and More, to Sabbatical, My Pleasanton Mass This Month is May 25

So then, on to the readings for Mass this Sunday, the Fifth of Easter:

• Acts of the Apostles 14:21-27

• Psalm 145:8-13

• Revelation 21:1-5

• John 13:31-35

Dear Friends and Family,

Before I get to anything else with this homily, let me say this, as many people have asked me about it.  I evidently neglected to list a couple weeks back, among my Masses for the month, my regular assignment in Pleasanton, at St. Elizabeth Seton.  I am usually at Seton the second Sunday of the month, at 11.  This month for some reason, it was more convenient for the Korean Community to schedule me over Memorial Day weekend.  My Pleasanton Mass this month is Sunday of Memorial Day weekend, May 25.  11 AM.  Seton campus.  I look forward to it greatly, as always.  Pleasanton is my "honeymoon parish;" the parish where I started as a baby priest, way back in 2006.  I think a priest's first parish probably always feels like home to him -- I think everyone knows how at home I feel in Pleasanton. 

I want to focus this homily on the first reading.  I want to focus this homily on what that reading tells us about the organizational development of the Church in the first century.  That earliest organization proved resilient; it has stood the test of two thousand years.  We saw it in action just last week, with the selection of Peter's latest successor -- the 267th -- in Rome.  

Today's reading from the Acts of the Apostles details events toward the end of the missionary journey of Paul and Barnabas to Anatolia (or Asia Minor, what is today Turkey).  Specific to the subject of this homily, we are told that Paul and Barnabas returned to cities they had evangelized earlier on their journey, where they appointed presbyters, or leaders, for each new Christian community.  Paul and Barnabas, the passage tells us

...returned to Lystra and to Iconium and to Antioch.  They strengthened the spirits of the disciples and exhorted them to persevere in the faith...They appointed presbyters for them in each church and, with prayer and fasting, commended them to the Lord (vss. 21-23).  

The word presbyter translates as elder and equates to the word priest, in modern English.  Though tradition tells us that Jude went to Western Asia, James to Spain, Mark to Egypt and maybe Italy, Mary Magdalen to the south of France and so forth, the disciples at this time were still largely concentrated in Jerusalem.  To guard and guide the far-flung flocks established by Paul and his missionary teams on their several journeys, Paul appointed leaders in each community.  These leaders would have had the responsibilities of leading the community in prayer and worship, as well as seeing to the overall administration of the "local church."  

This is the beginning of the office of priesthood in the infant Church.  The office of deacon had already been created, as we read in the sixth chapter of Acts (vss. 1-7).  The creation of the office of deacon automatically clarified the office of apostle -- to quote directly from the sixth chapter of Acts

The Twelve called together the community of disciples and said, "It is not right for us to neglect the word of God to serve at table.  Brothers, select from among you seven reputable men, filled with the Spirit and wisdom, whom we shall appoint to this task, whereas we shall devote ourselves to prayer and to the ministry of the word" (Acts 6:2-5).

It appears that for some number of years the offices of bishop and priesthood were not clearly separated; we know from late first-century sources, however, that they came to be clarified as distinct offices, in the many ancient references to the "bench of presbyters" who assisted the central leader (that is, the bishop) of any given Christian community.  We know that by the late first century the presbyters were deputed to lead prayer and worship, to preside at liturgy in more remote areas of a local community; as the Church grew, it became impossible for the bishop to preside at every liturgy in his district.

These districts came to be called dioceses, borrowing the Roman term for territorial jurisdictions within provinces of the empire.  Already by the time of Clement, the fourth bishop of Rome (that is, the fourth Pope, and incidentally, our patron here at the parish in Hayward) the diocesan system was in full operation.  We know this from Clement's letters, among other first-century sources.  

(The councils of the Church which decided the canon of Scripture, incidentally, which met in the 390s, seriously considered whether Clement's letters to the Corinthians should be included in the New Testament.  One of these letters to the community at Corinth, the great Greek port city with a huge number of Christians, gives direct evidence of the general understanding that the bishop of Rome had a central and unique authority.  Clement admonishes the Corinthians; he instructs and guides them, clearly understanding that it was his right and duty to do so, quite beside the fact that the church at Corinth had its own bishop.)

I could go on at length about the undeniable evidence from Acts of the Apostles that the early Church modelled itself in the manner in which we find the contemporary Church organized, but I hope that the foregoing makes my point.  It has been gently suggested to me that my written homilies are long enough!  

(And it is true that I never worry about the length of a written homily because after all, it is not like a spoken homily at Mass, where my listeners are a captive audience.  I do my best to limit my homilies at Sunday Mass to seven or eight minutes.  Here, I figure, no one HAS to sit through all these paragraphs!  So...I say as much as I think the subject requires...But I do want to be respectful of your time -- to say nothing of your patience!)

Well we are half-way through the month of May, a month that has for centuries been associated with Mother Mary.  And I will be spending the weekend thinking, speaking, and rejoicing about/in the Mother of God at St. Clare's Retreat Center in Soquel.  This will be my third retreat at St. Clare since October; it is sponsored by Bay Area chapters of the Legion of Mary, though folks are coming from everywhere.  I know personally folks who will be coming from the dioceses of Sacramento, Stockton and Monterey.  

The retreat organizers sent me a list of topics they would like to have addressed, and I was surprised to realize that, in my more than two decades of retreat work, much of it centered on Mary, I had never addressed these particular topics before.  

So I have been educating myself, the past few days, on new aspects and understandings of Marian devotion, and of Our Lady's place, in the history of salvation.  Totally cool.  As is the case with most teachers, I love learning.  

This is only my second e-mailed homily since the election of Leo 14.  I have been, as I imagine most of you have been, on a steep and rapid learning curve about our new pope, and the more I learn, the happier I am.  He sounds very much the man to meet the moment.  When I celebrated the morning Mass for our school children here at St. Clement on Wednesday, I managed to tie Leo's election into my homily -- which was interactive.  At the St. Clement School Masses I come down to the center aisle and ask the kids questions and THEY "give the homily."  Anyway, the excitement of our kids here at St. Clement at the fact of a Pope from Chicago was tangible.  I guess it is so, throughout the country.

Finally, when I get back Sunday afternoon from Soquel, I will find myself with just one week of classes left.  The Class of 2025 graduates next Saturday.  I have invitations to several graduation parties next weekend and beyond; will make as many as I can.  As I have said so many times, this class is truly special; they simply stole my heart.  

As of Sunday, June 1, I will not just be on summer vacation.  I will be on sabbatical.  Until January 5.  Over seven months.  Although they know I am taking the sabbatical, my parishioners here at St. Clement are not going to even realize that anything has changed, since I am spending the sabbatical here and will continue with my usual parish routine.  As I have said to our people here, "I am not taking a sabbatical from being a priest!"  

The sabbatical is to concentrate full-time on the varied projects and goals that we have set for ourselves at San Gabriel Media, my LA-based book-and-media apostolate, which I co-founded with my brother and a few ministry colleagues, back in 2020.  Too much to get into here, but the timing of the sabbatical now appears to have been perfect: San Gabriel is ready to "employ" me (so to speak) full time.  I am looking forward to it.

Will close here.  Take care.  God bless.

Love,

Fr. Brawn

Understanding Evangelization: Beyond Rules to Relationship

Readings and Virtual Homily for May 11, 2025, 4th Sunday of Easter; Deep Dish Pizza and the Vatican

Readings for Mass this Sunday:

• Acts of the Apostles 13:14, 43-52

• Psalm 100:1-2, 3, 5

• Revelation 7:9, 14-17

• John 10:27-30

Dear Friends and Family,

The conversion of the Gentiles is an easy theme to arrive at, with regard to this weekend's readings.  I have written on this theme several times over the years, in these virtual homilies, so -- staying with that theme as my general focus -- I will try to take it in a slightly different direction, this time.  I will take it in the direction of a consideration of what the Church itself regards as its primary purpose: the work of evangelization.

I mentioned a couple homilies back how impressed I was with Pope Francis' approach to evangelization.  Viewing the Church as a "field hospital," where everyone needs help, Francis' concern was making sure people understood that they are here on earth by the hand of a loving Creator; a Creator who not only wants what is best for them here and now, but wants them safe, joyful and at peace forever, in their heavenly home.  This Creator so loves the world that "he sent his only son" to suffer and die for it (John 3:16).  This passage might also be read as God so loved the world that God himself entered into it as a human being, suffering and dying for it, since after all, Jesus is the Second Person of the Trinity.  

Suffering and dying so that we might have life, Jesus -- that is God -- enters into the fearful mystery of human death.  The Author of life, the One through Whom all things were made, descends to the place of the dead where he liberates those who have been waiting for rescue from the start of human history.  Returning to earth, Jesus resurrects in his glorified and immortal body, appearing to the disciples and making it clear that in his sacrifice, both sin and death have been conquered.  Salvation is available to all.  

The foregoing is the kerygma; it is the base line; the heart of the Good News.  It is where and how evangelization starts.  And it was so astonishing to Gentile ears that the Gentiles flocked to the faith at the preaching of the disciples, as is evidenced in both today's first and second readings.  

In the first reading we are told that Paul and Barnabas made inroads in their initial preaching at the synagogue in Antioch in Pisidia (vss. 42-43).  The next week, "almost the whole city" turns out to hear them, Jews and Gentiles both (vs. 44).  Despite having some success with the Jews of the city, the disciples incur the wrath of the synagogue leadership, who plot actively to undermine their efforts.  Paul and Barnabas declare that from now on they will minister to the Gentiles, who receive the Good News with great joy (vss. 46-49).  This dynamic occurred in city after city, on the missionary journeys of St. Paul and his team.  It was the Gentiles who made up the vast majority of the first Christians.  

The reading from Revelation is one of my favorite passages from Scripture; it depicts a "vast multitude which no one could count from every nation, race, people and tongue" (vs. 9).  This vision gives testimony to the success of evangelization efforts throughout history.   The uncountable crowd from Revelation represents only those Christians who will live at the very end of time: many billions more, of course, have lived since the apostolic era.

Which brings me back to Pope Francis' approach to evangelization.  Evangelization is about the Good News.  It is about the central claims of the Christian faith.  It should not be confused with apologetics or catechesis.  Apologetics seeks to defend articles of the faith against attack.  Catechesis offers a deeper grasp of the mysteries of the faith, once the faith has been accepted.  

Evangelization is an invitation.  It is an invitation to a banquet.  And when properly employed, it is joyful, it is bright with grace, with serenity, with hope.  Very importantly, successful evangelization wins trust.  It is the experience of the Samaritan woman at the well with Jesus.  Over the course of a long conversation, Jesus so wins her confidence that when he lets her know -- without judging her -- that he knows all about her scandalous past, she is not offended.  She does not pull away in anger or shame or fear.  Rather, she draws closer: "Sir, I can see you are a prophet..." (John 4:16-19).

Today's reading from Acts of the Apostles describes how the Gentiles responded in huge numbers to the preaching of the apostles.  It is highly unlikely that that preaching involved condemnation of the Gentiles as sinners.  It is highly unlikely that Paul and Barnabas began their preaching with a list of rules for the Gentiles to follow.  

The Gentiles responded to the news that God loved them.  The Gentiles responded to the astonishing reality of the Resurrection; they responded to the news that death is not the end; that human life is filled with meaning and purpose.  In this new understanding they grasped their worth, their eternal value.  And in this new understanding their experience of life itself was transformed; transformed by light, by hope, by joy.

THAT is evangelization.  To the extent that Christians (I mean ALL of us, Catholic, Protestant and Orthodox) present the Christian faith to the world as a list of rules, evangelization is undermined.  It is likely, in fact, defeated outright.    

This is not rocket science.  When people feel seen, understood and loved, as the Samaritan woman did, they feel safe.  When people feel safe, they are open to taking stock of their lives, admitting their faults and failings.  And -- because they have come to trust its Giver -- they feel empowered to cooperate with grace; to become the disciples they are called to be.

The ultimate aim of evangelization is discipleship; is, in fact, sainthood.  But effective evangelization recognizes that it all starts with an invitation; an invitation to a banquet.  "This man eats with sinners" (Luke 15:2).  

It is Thursday as I am writing this and -- very much to my amazement -- we have a new pope.  I am amazed at how quickly he was chosen and I am amazed as well at who he is.  A native of Chicago.  A missionary priest who lived in South America so long that he has Peruvian citizenship.  Said to be something of a centrist and a bridge builder, with substantial diplomatic experience.  The media this morning were commenting on how "young" he is.  He is 69.  It's all relative, I guess -- Francis was 76 and Benedict 78, at the time of their accession to the Chair of Peter.  He is, in any event, the first pope of my generation. 

Folks have asked me about him and about his selection.  What I have said above is about as much as I know about him.  Like most of the rest of the world, I am on a learning curve, with the former Cardinal Prevost.  As to his selection, I think it is safe to say that, happening as it did on the second day of the conclave, there was very likely a general consensus among a strong majority of the cardinals about the direction they want to see the Church take.  With that consensus in place, it was only a matter of determining which candidate they thought likeliest to be able to chart that course.  In selecting Prevost it does seem to me that the cardinals were concerned about preserving unity -- it is no secret that Francis made some of them nervous.  

I liked Leo 14th's inaugural comments and I was especially pleased that he ended the moment with the Hail Mary.  But I repeat, I am astounded at his selection.  He was only rarely mentioned as a serious contender, and the fact that he is American seemed, really, to guarantee his non-appointment.  His was truly a dark-horse candidacy but the Holy Spirit is, as one of my sisters likes to say, "no bench-warmer."  The Holy Spirit is full of surprises.

Several of us in Campus Ministry at O'Dowd were gathered round a large flatscreen tv for the forty or fifty minutes between the white smoke and the appearance of our new pope on the balcony.  Some of our student leaders in Campus Ministry were also in and out.  When she heard that the new pope had been born in Chicago, Leila, a senior, said, "Oh my gosh!  Deep dish is coming to Vatican City!"  

She meant the comment largely in jest.  But in fact, it is likely to prove prophetic.  Not necessarily that Chicago-style pizza is going to be in vogue now, in Rome, but simply that our new pope is, after all, from Chicago.  From North America.  With huge South American ministerial experience.  Though no doubt at home in Rome, and clearly a very international man, Leo 14 was born, raised, ordained and formed in his priesthood, in the Americas.  Inevitably, there is going to be a certain "American" sensibility to his papacy.  I'm a little intrigued by that, whether deep dish turns up at Vatican receptions or no.

Kinda tough to follow the election of a new pope with any other "news," so I will let this one end here.

Take care and God bless.  

Habemus Papam!

Love in the Lord,

Fr. Brawn

Psalm 30, Revelation, and Resurrection: Homily for the Third Sunday of Easter

Readings and Virtual Homily for May 4, 2025, Third Sunday of Easter; With the Class of 2027 at St. Anthony's Dining Room; The Downhill Run at O'Dowd; Those Green Hills Above Mission Boulevard (Are Less and Less Green); May Schedule

Readings for Mass this Sunday: 

• Acts of the Apostles 5:27-32, 40-41

• Psalm 30:2, 4-6, 11-13

• Revelation 5:11-14

• John 21:1-19

Dear Friends and Family,

I want to look briefly at the first reading and the Gospel passage for today, but where I want to focus my homiletic energies this weekend is on the psalm and on the second reading.  The reason for this will, I trust, become clear, in the next few paragraphs.

The first reading from, of course, The Acts of the Apostles, is remarkable for its assurance to us that the disciples, hauled before Jewish religious authority, interrogated and then flogged, left the encounter "rejoicing that they had been found worthy to suffer for the name" (vs. 41).  The fear that had sent the disciples into hiding the day Jesus died has been completely banished -- by the power of the Spirit, among whose gifts is courage (Isaiah 11:2).

The Gospel passage is significant.  (I mean, as if any Gospel passage were not, right?!)  It is significant in that it gives us the tri-fold confession of Peter on the beach with Jesus, weeks after the Resurrection.  Three times Jesus asks Peter "Do you love me" and three times Peter answers "Yes Lord, I love you," the third time almost in tears (vss. 15-17).  Peter knows he is being asked because he denied the Lord three times.  There is so much that could be unpacked here -- about, for instance, how God calls the weak, how God strengthens us for our mission, how God forgives and renews relationship with us, about the astonishing catch of fish which opens the scene and what it represents in terms of Peter's own future ministry...

Another homily. 

So...to Psalm 30 and the passage from the fifth chapter of the Book of Revelation...

Psalm 30 is a psalm of Easter.  It is a psalm which predicts, in precise detail, the events of Good Friday, Holy Saturday and Easter Sunday.  "I praise you, Lord, for you raised me up," the psalm begins, "and did not let my enemies rejoice over me" (vs. 2).  

This verse not only predicts the Resurrection, it predicts as well the very short-lived satisfaction of the Jewish leaders, at the death of Jesus.  Already, Sunday morning, less than 48 hours after Jesus had died, they have the astounding report from the Roman guards that the body of Jesus is not in the tomb (Matthew 28:11-15).  The clear implication from Matthew is that the Roman soldiers either reported the Resurrection itself or they reported, at the least, strange and mystifying events that morning at the tomb.  The leaders bribe the guards to say the disciples stole Jesus' body, because if the soldiers tell the truth, news of the Resurrection will spread.  And of course, today's first reading, showing the deep trouble the leaders subsequently had with the preaching and the miracles of the disciples, further fulfills the psalm's prophecy.  The leaders were continually vexed and perplexed, following Jesus' death.  They were not permitted to rejoice.

The psalm then references the descent to the dead.  "Lord, you brought my soul up from Sheol; you let me live, from going down into the pit" (vs. 4).  Note the language here -- "you brought my soul up from Sheol."  That is, Jesus descended to the place of the dead and then returned.  

Verse 6 recounts the anguish of Good Friday evening and the joy of Easter Sunday morning: "At dusk, weeping comes for the night, but at dawn there is rejoicing."  Verse 12 expands on this theme: "You changed my mourning into dancing; you took off my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness."  The psalm ends with a very Easter-ish declaration: "So that my glory may praise you and not be silent.  Oh Lord, my God, forever will I give you thanks."

The passage from Revelation takes us beyond the joy of Easter to the reality, the eternal reality, of Jesus' glory in the heavenly court.  It is worth quoting at length.  Countless angels, John tells us 

"Cried out in a loud voice 'Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power and riches, wisdom and strength, honor and glory and blessing.'  Then I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and at sea, everything in the universe cry out: 'To the one who sits on the throne and to the Lamb be blessing and honor, glory and might, forever and ever'" (vss. 11-13).

The exalted images of Jesus in the Book of Revelation are deepened in meaning and resonance when they are contrasted with the images of the Messiah, beaten and bloody, increasingly weak, truly helpless (because he will not veer from the plan) on his way to Calvary.  The Jesus of Good Friday and the heavenly Messiah are one and the same, as the verses from revelation attest: "Worthy is the Lamb that was slain..."

This juxtaposition of images, the deepest suffering and the greatest glory, serves to remind us of that basic Christian dynamic referenced in last week's homily: through the crucifixion to the Resurrection; through the desert to the Promised Land.  From heaven's perspective, all of our sufferings here on earth make sense; they fit in with the glory that we receive in sainthood; indeed, they are where that glory was forged; was bought and paid for.

Just a few reflections on the striking Easter imagery of today's psalm and second reading.

We returned to campus this week at Bishop O'Dowd following what was, for me, a restful and refreshing two-week Easter break.  One of the things that happened this week was the last Social Justice Immersion Day for the sophomore class at St. Anthony's Dining Room in San Francisco.  I am not teaching the sophomores this semester, as you know.  I volunteered to be the lead chaperone on this St. Anthony trip because I wanted to facilitate my professional relationship with the folks at St. Anthony and also simply because, although I am waaaay happy to be spending class time this semester with our seniors, I do cherish my relationship with the sophomores, and this was a chance to be with a group of them who have not had me in the classroom.

St. Anthony's is a lot more than the dining room.  They've got a clothing bank, a clinic, a "hygiene hub" (where people can take showers and do their laundry) a year-long residential substance abuse rehab program and a lot more.  Half of our teens worked in the dining room, but the other half were with me in the clothing bank, which is a very big operation.  There are several work stations before the clothes actually make it out onto the racks in the clean, bright and well-organized clothing store itself.  Most of my group divided up among these stations, but a couple of the teens opted to be "personal shoppers" for folks coming into the store; they really enjoyed that.   

I wanted the day at St. Anthony's in part to reconnect with staff there, whom I consider colleagues.  I had not been there since last fall.  Not only were the staff happy to see me, so was one of the guests in the dining room.  A fellow named Kurt whom I had met while working the dining room last semester.  That time, Kurt saw my collar and called me over to his table (I have found that wearing the collar in the dining room serves almost as an invitation for folks to strike up conversations with me).  Kurt was once an altar boy; he has only the fondest memories of his education in San Francisco Catholic schools.  His story is a long one, and though I am three years older, anyone looking at us side by side would likely guess him to be ten years older than I; his life has not been easy.  

Anyway, I had somehow gotten over to SF without a collar, yesterday.  I told my fellow chaperones that I was disappointed in myself precisely because, as I say, the collar invites conversation with folks in the dining room.  Well, as it turned out, I did not need the collar.  Kurt remembered me.  I was walking among the tables, making sure all our teens were getting lunch and trying to encourage them to mingle with the other guests -- many of whom are homeless, all of whom are experiencing some degree of material want.  I was walking among the tables when "Fr. Jim!" I heard -- and not from a voice I recognized.  Not one of our students.  Not a staffer or volunteer at St. Anthony's.

I turned in the direction of the voice and saw Kurt seated by himself at a table -- I recognized him immediately.  We had had quite a discussion, last November.  I was, all the same, really impressed that he remembered me.  He motioned to a chair at his table.  We talked half an hour.  For all the way life has banged him up and knocked him around, Kurt retains a great good-natured outlook; he thanks God for all the blessings he has received.  "I should have been dead four or five times over the years, Father," he said at one point.  "But he," and he pointed skyward, "still has work for me."

Our immersion days at St. Anthony's are inspirational.   

The spring semester has reached its downhill slope.  This week's trip to St. Anthony's was the last of the academic year.  All of our retreats are behind us.  The Drama Department's Spring Musical starts performances this weekend -- always an indicator that we are very near the end of the school year.  I am normally feeling real ready, by the start of May, to finish the school year.  This year, as I have made clear in previous e-mails, it's a poignant business.  The Class of 2025 is graduating...I have something like forty or fifty "favorites" in this class.  And I love all the rest of them, too.  It's a good thing I am taking a sabbatical -- I won't be here to miss them, in the fall.

Finally, after a winter of bright green hills thanks to all the wet weather, already the slopes above St. Clement are fading from emerald green to pale green to, in several places, the yellow-brown of summer.  I love those hills no matter what color they are, but it is something, how quickly the green fades, once the wet season ends.  I read recently that these last three years of normal-to-above-normal precipitation in the state are only the third three-year period since 1978 of normal-to-above-normal precipitation.  We have really been blessed, these last three winters.  Important to give the Lord thanks and praise for taking care of our perpetually thirsty state.

Hope this finds you well and happy.  Best wishes for a blessed Easter season.

Take care.  God bless.

Love,

Fr. Brawn

Mass Schedule for May:

Sunday, May 4
930 AM, 1 PM (both Spanish)

Saturday, May 10
5 PM (English)

Sunday, May 11
115 AM, 630 PM (both English)

Saturday, May 24
5 PM (English)

Sunday, May 25
630 PM (English)

I have no parish Masses the weekend of the 17-18 because I am giving a retreat that weekend at St. Clare Retreat Center in Soquel.

Weekday Masses (all 8 AM, all English)

Monday, May 5
Tuesday, May 6
Friday, May 9
Saturday, May 10
Monday, May 12
Tuesday, May 13
Monday, May 19
Friday, May 23
Saturday, May 24
Monday, May 26
Friday, May 30
Saturday, May 31