Nineteenth Sunday Homily: From Moses to Modern Trials, Trusting in God’s Providence

Readings and Virtual Homily for August 10, 2025, Nineteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time; Virtual Homily; Caracas Update; August Schedule

Readings for Mass this Sunday:

• Wisdom 18:6-9

• Psalm 33:1, 12, 18-22

• Hebrews 11:1-2, 8-19

• Luke 12:32-48

Dear Friends and Family,

Trust and faith, as words, are not quite interchangeable, but they get at the same general concept.  Today's readings invite us to develop and maintain a robust confidence in God's love for us, God's care for us and God's ability to see to our every need.

This business of trusting God with our needs can be daunting.  After all, we cannot see, cannot hear (in any typical meaning of the term) or touch God.  But our needs very frequently can be seen, can be heard, can be touched (or felt).  They are experienced on the level of experience itself.  Even if they are emotional or spiritual in nature, they are, to us, as we experience them, tangible, real.  Trusting that which cannot be seen, heard or touched with tangible, with  immediate and very real need can be, as I say, challenging.

The first reading, from the Book of Wisdom (one of my top ten favorite books of Scripture) reminds us of how God provided, astonishingly, for the needs of the Israelites at the Red Sea, with Pharaoh's army bearing down on them.  Moses trusted; God delivered.  The passage urges a deep trust in the ability of the God who worked such an amazing miracle for his original people, to provide for our needs today.

The psalm doubles down on this theme.  "Behold, the eye of the Lord is upon those who fear him, upon those who count on his mercy, to deliver them from death and keep them alive through famine" (vss. 18-19).  The reference to famine should be underscored here.  There was a time when crop failures could threaten human existence itself.  The psalm urges confidence, trust, faith -- even in such dire circumstances. 

The second reading, from the Letter to the Hebrews (one of my top three books of Scripture) reminds us of the faith of our spiritual ancestors.  In admirable literary style, the (unknown) author of the Letter to the Hebrews reminds his audience of Jewish Christian converts how, by the faith of their ancestors, God's majestic plan of salvation came into play.  Only by faith, the author argues, is God's plan achieved among us, for it is beyond our capacities to bring that plan about on our own efforts.  The author cites one example after another of how, in the plan of salvation, it was necessary for the ancestors of the Jews to let go and let God.  The author goes on to urge such confident self-surrender to us.

The Gospel passage illustrates the dynamic that can come into play when trust, or faith, in God is set aside for faith in our own circumstances and abilities.  We may be tempted, as the chief servant in the parable is, to take matters into our own hands, thinking that God is far off and not attentive. 

This temptation -- I know it well -- urges on us a self-reliance and self-determination that may run contrary to God's design for us, and for that reason it must be resisted.  Rather than meeting difficulty and uncertainty by barreling ahead with our own plans based on our own understandings, we should step back from the difficulty long enough to do what Moses did, at the Red Sea.  Moses did not know how God was going to resolve the matter; he only knew that God WOULD resolve it.  In his trust, in his faith, Moses "allowed" (if that is the term) for the astonishing miracle at the Red Sea.

"Your faith has healed you," Jesus tells the woman who suffered twelve years with the hemorrhage (Matthew 9:22).  Our faith, our trust in God, in God's love for us, in God's unlimited ability to "fix" any bad situation, to bring us safely through any crisis, opens the way for grace to operate.  And once grace is in operation, as Gabriel assured Mary, "all things are possible" (Luke 1:37).

As some of you are aware, I experienced a totally unexpected financial windfall this past fortnight, and, of course, one of the first things I did with it was send a chunk of change to my young Venezuelans.  People have asked me, off and on, since the last time I reported on them, how my Caraquenos are doing.

In a word, they are surviving.  They are doing little more than that.  They are not living life the way we live it here in America, the way it is lived by most Europeans, by the Japanese, the Australians, the Moroccans, nor, for that matter, by most South Americans. 

There is zero opportunity, today, in Venezuela, for anyone with an idea, a dream, a vision, a capacity to bring about a better life for him/herself and their family.  It is hard for North Americans to conceive of such a set of circumstances, but it is what the vast majority of Venezuelans experience as a day-to-day reality. 

The money I regularly send to Caracas (a chunk of it supplied by some of you) goes to buy food, to buy medicine and to help close the gap on the rent.  It is not being put to any creative or entrepreneurial use; it cannot be.  $100 (I mean, in American cash, which by the grace of God I am able to get to my Venezuelans; I am able to get them dollars, rather than their own worthless currency) lifts a family of five or six above the economic abyss for six weeks.  Most of the nation, it has been reported now, and so reported for years, is dependent upon remittances from friends and family outside the country.

Which leads me to this point (and which point, I think, says something impressive about "my boys" from Caracas): Of the seventeen young men I became something of a mentor to, in Caracas back in the days when Americans could still travel safely to the country, one is now in New York, one in Savannah, one in Orlando, one in Barcelona, one in Cartagena and two in Lima.  That is, seven of them have fled the country and are building new lives for themselves in free and prospering nations -- despite having the largest proven oil reserves in the world, Venezuela is neither.

That leaves ten of my young men in the country (all but two of them still in Caracas).  I am in touch with several of them regularly via WhatsApp and also through mutual communications with the guys who are now expatriots.  I am in regular communication in particular with the "kids" (they are now in their late thirties and early forties) in Orlando, Savannah and Barcelona. 

With regard to today's homily, it might be said that this is a time of testing and of faith for the twenty-six million Venezuelans who remain in the country.  Eight million have fled; the largest emigration of the twenty-first century and a tragic fulfillment of Mother Mary's prediction at Fatima in 1917 (the year of the Bolshevik Revolution in Moscow) that "Russia will spread her error throughout the world." 

The Venezuelan resistance remains strong and unified.  Last summer's fraudulent elections proved as much (see a couple of these e-mails from July and August of 2024).  I remain convinced that, at some point in the future, the Venezuelan people will once again govern themselves in freedom and prosperity.  There was a time, not that long ago, when the nation was a functioning democracy and the fourteenth largest economy on the planet. 

In trust, in faith, I await the Lord's plan, for the liberation of this beautiful people from their criminal "socialist" oppressors.

Gonna leave it at that as it is late Friday night and I need to call it a day.

Take care.  God bless.

Love,

Fr. Brawn

My apologies for not getting the August schedule out last week.  It completely slipped my mind.  Here is it from this weekend on:

Saturday, Aug. 9

5 PM (English)

Sunday, Aug. 10

930 AM, 1 PM (Spanish)

Sunday, Aug. 17

8 AM, 1115 AM, 630 PM (All English)

Sunday, Aug. 24

11 AM (The Catholic Community of Pleasanton; Seton campus, English) 

Saturday, Aug. 30

5 PM (English)

Sunday, Aug. 31

8 AM, 1115 AM (both English)

Weekday Masses (all 8 AM and in English except where noted)

Monday August 11

Tuesday August 12 (7 PM in Spanish)

Saturday August 16

Monday August 18

Saturday August 23

Monday August 25

Friday August 29

You Can’t Take It with You: A Homily on Detachment and Faith

Readings and Virtual Homily for August 3, 2025, Eighteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time; When Summer is Allowed to be Summer; Now Starts the Sabbatical

Readings for Mass this Sunday: 

• Ecclesiastes 1:2; 2:21-23

• Psalm 90:3-6, 12-14, 17

• Colossians 3:1-5, 9-11

• Luke 12:13-21

Dear Friends and Family:

All four readings this weekend can be related easily and generally to a theme of non-attachment to the things of this world.  We are built to last.  Forever.  The things of this world are not built to last.  It is folly, therefore, to place our trust and a sense of security in our possessions.  They might disappear overnight.  Or, as the Gospel passage points out, WE might disappear overnight, might die suddenly and find ourselves in eternity where material things do not count for anything, and then what good would our earthly possessions be to us?

This theme might be broadened beyond the concept of material possessions.  I have never had much in the way of "things," for example, so it is really pretty easy for me to say, "So what if I have to leave all my material possessions behind when I leave this world?  They amount to a car, a computer and some clothes."   

While I have little in the way of material possessions, however, I have had substantial experience with the "things of this world" if we are willing to broaden the category to include such considerations as personal ambition, professional reputation, professional recognition and advancement, and so on.  I am not talking here about my career in the Church.  I am talking about my ambitions as a writer.  

Detached as I may be from the material goods of the world, since I have so few of them, I am well acquainted with another sort of "good;" I am well acquainted with another temptation to be attached to the world.  I am well-acquainted with career ambition and the determination to succeed -- as a writer, as an artist.  One's professional success, professional reputation, professional recognition and the variety of rewards that might come with real career achievement, though not necessarily material, are nonetheless very much "worldly things," and I readily confess to having pursued them with an almost ferocious energy and determination, and for my entire adult life.

I don't want to make this homily "all about me," but -- today's readings seem especially appropriate to my circumstances this summer, as we roll out the initial marketing stratagems at San Gabriel Media and are, at least for the moment, encountering a rapid and rising success.  The videos at San Gabriel that are gaining hundreds of thousands of views on YouTube are videos that were scripted (that is, written) by me.  In several cases, they are videos presented by me; in some cases they are videos performed by me.  And, of course, the books available at our website are my brainchildren; I wrote them with love, with energy, with passion; I believe in them and hope to see them succeed.

Which, so far as it serves the greater purposes of God, is hunky-dory.  If our YouTube programming and my books at San Gabriel can help people deepen their relationship with God, that is awesome.  But detachment, on my part, from the worldly "things" of literary and artistic success is as important, with regard to today's readings, as is detachment from material possessions.  The adage "You can't take it with you" applies as much to career achievement as it does to material possessions, as it does to money.  

In the end, all of us are radically poor.  Unable to save ourselves, we must throw ourselves on the love of the God who created us in love and for love.  We must trust in that love -- God's love for us.  In that, and in that alone, is our security, no matter how much the things of this world may give us a sense of security and of peace.  The things of this world -- including those which are not material -- cannot save us.  That is the unified message across today's readings.  

I want to wrap this homily with the observation that, Father Jesus (our so very well-named pastor here at St, Clement) being in Mexico this and the next couple of weeks, I had a blast from the past this week.  The only priest in the parish, believe me, I was in demand, the last seven days.  I loved it.  Much as I love the high school, my colleagues and my students there, I remain a parish priest at heart.  There is very little, by way of a "the things of this world" temptation, in the day-in and day-out life of the parish priest.  Just get out of bed in the morning and you may be assured, you will be doing God's will that day.  I treasure my "work" in the parish.  I put the word work in quotation marks because parish work, to me, is not work.  It is life.  

I often say at funeral Masses that the only "thing" we take with us, when we leave this world, is the love we have given away.  Parish priesthood, to me, is love-with-legs, is love in day-in and day-out action.  I had a GREAT week, here at St. Clement, just being "the only priest in the parish."

Well...It is the start of August.  That is, the middle of summer.  For the first time in ten years, I am able to relax and enjoy the summer for what it is -- SUMMER.  For the first time in ten years -- since I started at the high school in 2015 -- I do not have to be pulling myself together for the academic year, in what amounts to the middle of summer.

I am grateful.  Remember when summer ended (and school started) after Labor Day?  Trust me, so do I and so do all my colleagues at O'Dowd (even those who are actually too young to remember it -- they have heard of it!).  EVERYONE resents being back on campus the first week of August.  I plan to spend several more years at the high school, and have no doubt that, at this juncture next year, I will be kvetching with the rest of my dear colleagues about our mid-summer return.  

But not this summer.  This summer, for me, summer actually gets to BE summer.  That fact has me smiling.  

And it reminds me that...I have been on summer vacation since the first of June.  That would have happened regardless.  Now starts the sabbatical.  Now starts that dedication -- in terms of my focus and energy through to January 6 -- to our plans at San Gabriel Media.  The next five months are 100% about evangelization, since evangelization is ALL we are about at SGM.  Pray for us!

Gonna wrap it.

 Take care and God Bless.

 Fr. Brawn

Ask, Seek, Knock — But Be Ready for a Surprise

Readings and Virtual Homily for July 27, 2025, Seventeenth Sunday of Ordinary Time; Blessed in SoCal

Readings for this Sunday:

• Genesis 18:20-32

• Psalm 138:1-3, 6-8

• Colossians 2:12-14

• Luke 11:1-13

 Dear Friends and Family,

This week's Gospel passage is famous: "Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened to you" (vs. 9).  It is a passage that needs to be parsed carefully, if it is to be accurately grasped and understood.  I know.  I have decades of experience with this dynamic.

So, just to state the obvious at the outset.  We do not always get what we ask for.  In my experience, at least, we are disappointed in our requests enough to make the argument seem plausible that the whole thing is random, to make the argument seem plausible that you may as well not bother to pray at all, because maybe you will, maybe you won't get what you ask for.

I stress the words "seem plausible."  For, again, in my long experience with this business of asking and sometimes receiving, sometimes not, I have concluded that there is nothing random in the way our prayers get answered.  And I have concluded as well that, one way or another, our prayers always do, in fact, get answered.  Prayer is conversation with our Creator.  Conversation is dynamic, not static.  Conversation is two-way, not one way.  Conversation by its nature is open to possibilities. 

It is a truism, a commonplace response to say that "God always answers our prayers, but not necessarily always in the way we want."  I point this out simply to acknowledge the reality -- we can be disappointed in our prayers -- and to move on from it.  For the deeper reality is that the way God answers our prayers is, in the end, just precisely the way we want them answered, though it can take us some time, grasping as much.  Only in hindsight, sometimes, oft-times, can we appreciate the way the Lord has answered our prayers.

And before I go any further with this, let me acknowledge that both the first reading and the Gospel passage this Sunday strongly recommend persistence in prayer.  Abraham is insistent in his plea for any just people who might be found to be living in Sodom and Gomorrah.  Jesus assures us that the man who has turned in for the night but who has a friend at his door asking for bread will get up and give him the bread, in the end, if not out of friendship then out of the desire to be rid of his insistent knocking.  The man inside will get the bread to his friend outside, simply to be able to get to sleep (vs. 8).  

So let me just underscore that fact.  Persistence in prayer is strongly recommended by today's readings.  And let me say this, as well.  If you are strongly motivated to pray for a specific outcome, there is solid reason to believe that your prayer aligns with God's will.  You want what is best in the situation.  So does God.

But what is best in the situation may involve factors beyond our understanding; it may involve people, places, developments beyond our immediate scope of vision.  These possibilities are not beyond God's scope of vision.  And God is always playing for the win for everyone.  God sees the completed canvas, the whole picture.  We see the next brush stroke.  

This is where faith comes in.  It may well be that the thing we are praying for is entirely within God's plan and design.  It may also be that how this desired thing is to come about is not at all the way we have conceived of it.  God will bring it about, in God's own way, and in consideration of factors of which we may well be entirely unaware.  

As just one example from the storehouse of experience I have, dealing with this dynamic -- the dynamic of delayed answer to prayer, or even what seems an outright No.  In the mid-1990s, I was a graduate student in philosophy at the Dominican School at the Graduate Theological Union in Berkeley, preparing for entry to theological studies at seminary.  I was "in a hurry" to move ahead with my studies, quite naturally assuming that God wanted to make a priest of me as soon as that might happen.  I was vexed by persistent personal debt (both a car loan and credit cards) and could not advance to seminary studies until these debts were paid.

There were several avenues for getting my debts paid quite clearly available to me (one of them being that my literary agent in New York would succeed in selling one or more of my novels).  Yet none of these avenues opened up for me; I remained in debt and in circumstances which precluded my advancing to seminary until my debts were paid.

Then came the offer, in the summer of 1995, that I take over the youth ministry position in the Marysville parish, a paid position which, three years later, substantially contributed to my retiring my debts and getting to seminary.  Believe me, dear reader, I NEVER saw youth ministry coming.  Never for a moment thought of working with teens as a part of my preparation for priesthood.

As it turned out, of course, working with teens has defined my priesthood.

And it would never have come about had God answered my fervent (and very persistent) prayers in the mid-1990s that my agent might start to succeed in selling my novels in Manhattan.  That, among a couple of other possibilities, was how I understood that my financial decks might be cleared and how I might move on toward priesthood.  God had another plan.  A plan that involved not just the teens of the Marysville youth group in the late 1990s, but the teens at Bishop O'Dowd High School today.  A plan, as well, that involved me, and God's desire to see me flourish in ways I could never have imagined.  Youth ministry was God's dream for me; I never dreamt of it myself.  

Yet as I say, my work with the teens, for over thirty years now, has defined not just priesthood but really, my life.  And am I ever grateful.  Grateful that THIS is how God decided to answer my fervent and insistent prayers, in the 1990s.

I could go on.  Believe me, dear reader, I could go on and on and on -- I have abundant experience with this dynamic, the dynamic of how God may answer our prayers in surprising ways.  Suffice it to say for this one that conversation with God, that is, our prayers, needs to be open, fluid, dynamic, trusting.  He WILL answer our prayers.  He will do it in ways that benefit the largest number of people in the deepest possible way.  And this broader perspective -- God's perspective -- may require us to be flexible, responsive, open to surprises, to the way in which our prayers will be answered.  

At fourteen paragraphs, this one is long even by my (written homily) standards, so I think I will close here.  I have been in Southern California this week, advancing plans and projects with San Gabriel Media.  Also spending some good time with SoCal family; I am feeling blessed, feeling grateful.  

Take good care.  God bless.

Fr. Brawn

Martha, Mary, and the Mystery of Salvation: Homily for July 20, 2025

Readings and Virtual Homily for July 20, 2025, Sixteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time; LA-bound; Praise Report on San Gabriel Media

Readings for Mass this Sunday: 

• Genesis 18:1-10

• Psalm 15:2-5

• Colossians 1:24-28

• Luke 10:38-42

Dear Friends and Family,

The Gospel passage (Martha asking Jesus to tell Mary to get off her duff and help with the party) is one of my favorite scenes from all four Gospels.  I will likely repeat myself from previous homilies, talks, and written analyses, when discussing the passage.  I can't help myself.  I am too much a fan of Martha not to insist on giving her some credit in the situation.  

Before getting to the Gospel, though, we have a reading from Genesis which also pertains to hospitality: Abraham and Sarah receiving the three visitors who tell them that in a year's time they will have a son.  Scripture scholars generally agree that these three visitors represent the Trinity.  One might argue whether they simply represent God (angelic ambassadors, so to speak) or whether, in fact, the Three Persons decided to appear to Abraham and Sarah in human form.  I am not going to weigh in on that question; it is above the pay-grade of a parish priest.  

Whichever interpretation one prefers, the visitors allow themselves to be attended to by Abraham and Sarah (taking rest in the shade of the spreading oak tree near the tent, bathing their feet in water Abraham provides for just that purpose and so on).  A full meal is quickly prepared for them, and the visitors genially accept the hospitality, again, assuring Abraham within Sarah's hearing that at this same time next year, they will return and that at that time, the aged patriarch and his wife will have a son.

I want to say this about the passage (and this observation runs a parallel to what I have to say about Martha, below): Sarah laughs, when she hears the visitors assuring her husband that they will have a son in a year's time (vs. 12, outside today's passage).  Sarah is called out for laughing (vss. 13-15).  It seems that everyone who knows anything about the history of salvation knows that Sarah laughed at the thought that she might conceive a child at her age.

Far less well known: Abraham also laughed.  Laughed in the very presence of God.  Laughed so hard and so well that he "fell face down and laughed" (Genesis 17:17).  He is not rebuked for his disbelief; he is only reassured that he and Sarah will conceive, will have a son and that they will name him Isaac (vs. 19).  I am not going to comment further on this set of facts.  I merely point them out.

Psalm 15 asks what one must do to "abide in your (that is, God's) tent" (vs. 1) and goes on in four fairly dense verses to describe qualities of discipleship.  

The passage from the Letter to the Colossians actually connects to the first reading (and without too much stretching may also be connected to the passage from the Gospel) in that Paul speaks of "the mystery hidden from ages and from generations past;" the mystery of the plan of salvation fully revealed in Jesus Christ (vs. 26).  

This mystery, of course, starts with Abraham and Sarah, starts with their obedience, their faith and their willingness to cooperate with God's plan, even when it seems to them impossible.  One of the visitors assures Sarah, in that scene, "Is anything too marvelous for the Lord to do?" (vs. 14, again beyond the verses for today's reading).  The visitor's assurance to Sarah is echoed centuries later by Gabriel's assurances to Mary, with regard both to her conception of the Messiah, and the fact that Elizabeth has conceived a son "in her old age..for nothing will be impossible with God" (Luke 1:36-37).  

This mystery, the mystery of the plan of salvation kept hidden, as Paul says, for ages and many generations, now revealed in Jesus of Nazareth, leads us directly into the Gospel passage, where we find Mary of Bethany seated at the feet of the Lord, drinking in the wonders of the cosmos and the beauty of the plan of salvation, while her sister Martha notices that they need more Corona and Heineken at the tiki bar on the far side of the pool.

Martha, Mary and Lazarus were wealthy.  We have this understanding from the tradition of the saints, but we may easily infer it as well from the scenes in which they appear in the Gospels.  The spikenard with which Mary anoints Jesus shortly before the crucifixion was worth, according to John, "three hundred days' wages" (John 12:5).  Mary saw fit to break open the vase and pour it over the Lord.  She, her sister and her brother were not poor.  

The party described in today's Gospel passage was likely thrown for the entire village of Bethany, where the three siblings lived.  That Martha, Mary and Lazarus lived in Bethany is another indicator of their high social status.  The town was a wealthy suburb, so to speak, of Jerusalem.  Martha, Mary and Lazarus were good friends of Jesus, by the time of this party.  They were likely giving the party so that their friends and neighbors in Bethany could meet the Lord.

It was no doubt a fancy party, with loving attention paid to every detail.  We know from other Gospel passages that Martha was an experienced and accomplished hostess (again, see John 12).  She complains that Mary has left her to see to the many guests herself, but rest assured, though busy she was, a large part of Martha's business was overseeing the servants, of which she and her siblings no doubt had at least several.  Martha's concern was for the comfort of their guests, and when we stop to consider that the three of them -- Martha, Mary and Lazarus -- very likely agreed together to throw this large party, I at least find Martha's objection more than reasonable.  

Far be it from me to argue with my Lord and Savior: "Mary has chosen the better part" (vs. 42), the Lord assures Martha; that is, Mary has chosen to learn about the great mystery hidden for ages and now revealed in Jesus.  

So yeah...okay...they are still in need of more beer at the tiki bar on the far side of the pool.  Just sayin'...You say you are going to throw a party and invite the whole town and...then you sit at the feet of the Lord, drinking in the great mystery of the plan of salvation.  Let the guests fend for themselves.  

Whatever.  Jesus himself says this is the better part.  It is my duty as a Catholic priest to stress that point.  So there.  It is stressed.  Me and Martha?  Let's get some Corona and Heineken to the tiki bar.  

I like to say that if it were not for the Marthas of the world we would all starve to death.  

I can (I have) said so much more about Martha as a disciple, about her selflessness, about her strength, about the unbelievable depth of her faith.  I could extend this homily by several more paragraphs examining these aspects of her character.  But I imagine you get my point, and in any event, it is off-topic with regard to the message of today's Gospel passage, which might be summed up as -- it is better to contemplate the mysteries of the cosmos and the plan of salvation than to organize and successfully bring off even the most elaborate and awe-inspiring social events.  To be a great hostess is no small matter.  It only looks that way when you compare it to being a great mystic.

I am headed to SoCal this week, the first of several forays south this sabbatical.  San Gabriel Media is headquartered in Los Angeles (that is one of the reasons for the name itself -- LA is home to the San Gabriel Mountains and the San Gabriel Valley).  My bro Dan, who is the business brains of the operation (and a surprisingly "Mary"-type of disciple, compared to my definitive male version of Martha) and I need a long and in-depth strategy session.  We have not met in person about business since last July.  Zoom, e-mails and texts are great.  But now and again, face-to-face is just necessary.

I also have a major media-business meeting in San Diego, and in both LA and SD we will be planning filming dates, program release schedules, book print runs, and more, this coming week.  I am driving (I never fly to LA) but do not worry -- I have checked and at present, at least, no visa is required for Bay Area residents to enter the South State (LOL)!

On the subject of San Gabriel Media, our summer You Tube marketing campaign continues to produce results.  We are verging on 200,000 subscribers worldwide.  My colleagues at San Gabriel and I are hugely gratified at this initial success, but You Tube is only one of several venues for our marketing strategy, and in any event, not one of us considers 200,000 subscribers anything more than a promising start.  Our ambitions at San Gabriel are not small.  There is no reason they should be.  This is the Gospel.  This is "the good news of great joy that shall be for all people" (Luke 2:10).  We are aiming for the largest audience our efforts can legitimately reach.  None of us knows where the limit is.  We just feel duty-bound to reach it.  

I'll close it with that happy report.

Take care.  God bless.

El Padre

Faith Without Action: Challenging Religious Hypocrisy with the Good Samaritan

Readings and Virtual Homily for July 13, 2025, Fifteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time; Summertime...and the Livin' is Breezy

Readings for Mass this Sunday:

• Deuteronomy 30:10-14

• Psalm 69:14, 17, 30-37

• OR

• Psalm 19:8-11

• Colossians 1:15-20

• Luke 10:25-37

Dear Friends and Family,

The Gospel passage this Sunday is the parable of the Good Samaritan.  Connections to either of the readings or either of the psalms (highly unusual that there is a choice of psalms this week) are fleeting and tenuous, but here goes.

The first reading assures us that God's will is not difficult to discern: "This command (of the Lord) is not too wondrous or remote for you...it is something very near to you...in your heart" (vss. 11, 14).  

This assurance connects easily enough with the Gospel story, the general outlines of which, as of course you know, are that a man set upon by robbers on the road from Jericho to Jerusalem is left beaten and helpless there on the side of the road.  Both a priest and a Levite (a Jewish religious leader) not only walk right past the injured man, they cross the road to avoid him.  

Jesus, of course, uses religious leaders in this parable to show up their hypocrisy.  They don't dare touch the bloodied victim for fear of ritual contamination.  If they came into contact with his blood they would have to undergo a purification ritual in Jerusalem before being allowed into the Temple.  Much more important to be able to get into the Temple without delays or nuisances, than to assist a vulnerable and very needy fellow human being.

It is the Samaritan, a member of a despised race and religion, who does the will of God, in helping the man who had fallen victim to the roadside bandits.  And the will of God in this case would indeed appear to be quite obvious; staring any passer-by in the face.  A beaten and badly injured man lying on the side of the road.  The will of God is, as the first reading points out, very near to hand; it is written in our hearts.

Psalm 69 is one of the psalms of the Passion.  Its imagery is striking -- and might be applied to the victim lying on the side of the road in the parable.  "...here I am miserable and in pain; let your saving help protect me, O God" (vs. 30).

The verses from Psalm 19 might be related to the parable in terms of how the victim felt, recovering at the generous expense of the Samaritan, at the inn to which his rescuer had taken him.  The victim had, Jesus leaves us to infer, been rescued from death itself by the Samaritan.  Psalm 19 offers joyful praise for the "command" of the Lord, which the Samaritan, listening to his heart, has fulfilled.  "The law of the Lord is perfect, refreshing the soul...the precepts of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart...the statutes of the Lord are...more desirable than gold" (vss. 8, 9, 11).

The passage from Colossians is one of my favorites in all the New Testament, never mind that it bears almost no relationship to the parable of the Good Samaritan.  It is one of the "high Christology" proof texts that I use at the start of each semester with my sophomores at O'Dowd; one of the passages from the New Testament that attests to Christ's divinity in no uncertain terms.  "He is the image of the invisible God...for in him were created all things in heaven and on earth, the visible and the invisible" (vss. 15-16).  

The passage continues with this assessment of the reality of the divinity of Christ for several verses, but as I say, there appears to be little to no correlation to the rest of today's readings, so we will leave it there.  (The second reading, as I have pointed out before, is selected according to the Principle of Continuous Reading; that is, the aim of the second reading is to take us through a particular book of the New Testament, never mind what the rest of the readings that Sunday are about.  Once in a while we get a second reading that really does connect with the others, but more often, not.)

The parable itself I have examined at least a couple of times in these written homilies.  I suppose it should be re-stated that Jesus constructed this parable very deliberately to at once condemn religious hypocrisy and to fight a blind and hateful prejudice -- the prejudice most Jews in first-century Israel felt toward the Samaritan people.  For deep historical and cultural reasons, the Samaritans were viewed as heretics, half-breeds and invaders; their presence in the heart of the land God had promised the Jews was very deeply resented.

In making a Samaritan the hero of the story Jesus no doubt shocked many if not all of his hearers.  That was no accident.

Well, speaking of shocks, I got over the disbelief and sadness of my abruptly canceled trip to Europe last week with a rapidity that impresses even me.  I guess it was the prospect of ten unscheduled days stretching before me that did it.  I cannot stress how unusual it is for me to have unscheduled time of any kind, let alone ten days of it.  

I have been busy, of course, with the business of the summer, of the sabbatical, both writing and filming.  I will be getting a new book done this month, thanks to the cancellation of my travel plans.  We are developing several new You Tube programs at SGM this summer; I have a new Bay Area videographer and we started filming two of these new programs this week.  The NorCal marketing team and I have been busy with the You Tube advertising campaign, filming several new promotional videos that are in themselves exercises in evangelization.  (Check out the one on the Andromeda Galaxy, to get an idea; I am particularly proud of it!)

For all that, I have left myself free time, this past week and one-half.  It's been great to stay in bed past nine on mornings when I have not had the parish Mass; great to be getting to the gym almost every day.  Great, too, to kick back some evenings and just...watch the sunlight fade on our golden hills here in breezy Hayward.  There are calves on the hills, this spring and summer.  Four of them.  We always have a small herd of cattle on the hills, late winter to September or so (not sure where they are pastured the other months of the year).  But in my ten years here I have never seen calves on our slopes.  They are a joy to watch -- at times they seem to be playing tag with each other.  

In any event, as I move deep into the second month of the sabbatical, I am feeling at once charged up and relaxed, and that's a nice way to feel.  London and Paris?  I have re-booked for mid-October.  All's well that ends well.

That'll do it for this one.  Hope you are enjoying the summer.  I am!

Take good care and God bless.

Love,

Fr. Brawn

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