100 Thanks 2014

As is my tradition every Thanksgiving, I write down the 100 things that I am thankful for.
Happy Thanksgiving!

100 Thanks 2014

1.     My brother

2.     My brother's heart

3.     My brother's heroism

4.     My brother's charm

5.     My brother's smile

6.     My brother's laugh

7.     My brother's reckless abandon

8.     My brother's comrades and friends

9.     My brother's son

10.  My brother's life

11.  My mother's faith

12.  My father's peace

13.  My sister's strength

14.  My brother in law's courage

15.  My best friends' presence

16.  My family's resilient spirit

17.  My brother priests holding me up

18.  My faith in the eternal

19.  All of my friends' prayers

20.  Honor guards

21.  Fire trucks

22.  The American flag

23.  Happy Memories

24.  Crazy Memories

25.  Peace

26.  "What's Next?"

27.  Quiet time in prayer before the Blessed Sacrament

28.  Celebrating the Eucharist

29.  Confession and Absolution

30.  My new parish

31.  My new parochial school

32.  Having students again

33.  Hearing "Fader Manny, Fader Manny" from tiny voices again

34.  Having Friday School Masses again

35.  Giving this Thanksgiving List assignment again ("Seriously, Father? 100?")

36.  Reading what 13 year olds give thanks for

37.  Friday Recess Kickball and Football Games

38.  Teachers: Brilliant, Creative, and Selfless Teachers

39.  Parents who trust teachers

40.  Carnivals

41.  Tailgating at the carnival

42.  My staff

43.  Memories from my last parish

44.  Good Friday Processions

45.  Griterias and taking it to the streets

46.  Overflowing Noon Masses

47.  Monday nights

48.  Sunday Night Dinners at Latin

49.  Christmas Eve with the cousins

50.  The Peace of San Damiano and Assisi

51.  St. Peter's Square at night

52.  Mass near St. Peter's Tomb

53.  Il Duomo

54.  Gelato in Padua

55.  The Basilica of St. Anthony of Padua

56.  St. Mark's Square in Venice

57.  The steps of St. Paul's

58.  The unexpected joys of London

59.  Football Football Football

60.  Our Dolphins

61.  Our Head Coach

62.  Pacing the sidelines nervously during close games

63.  Post game prayer

64.  Victory Mondays

65.  Wade County

66.  4 straight Junes of joy

67.  The crack of Giancarlo's bat

68.  The pop of Jose's fastball

69.  The fact that I don't have to pay either of them

70.  Seeing Derek Jeter play one last time

71.  New York City with my father

72.  Central Park, Little Italy, Washington and Union Squares with the Little Girl

73.  Captiva

74.  Fishing from the shore

75.  Key Biscayne

76.  Fishing in quiet places

77.  Staycations

78.  Keyrats

79.  Random texts and group conversations with Keyrats scattered all over the world

80.  Many mothers

81.  Families in Broward

82.  Weddings in Coral Gables (and with couple that actually "get it")

83.  Our beautiful bell tower

84.  Old stories from our founding parishioners

85.  My regularly scheduled Monday afternoon phone call

86.  My nephews

87.  Playing video games with my nephews

88.  Refusing to grow up (I'm not 40 yet!)

89.  My godchildren

90.  Dinners with old friends

91.  Friends that keep me grounded

92.  Those precious few moments of silence after receiving Communion

93.  The exhilaration of preaching a Sunday homily

94.  The joy of absolving a penitent in confession

95.  Being able to anoint and commend a soul on their way home to the Father

96.  Being loved and forgiven unconditionally by our God

97.  Transmitting that love and forgiveness to others

98.  Being trusted with so much while deserving so little

99.  Striving each day to reach what seems to be, but isn't, the unattainable gift of holiness

100.        Writing this list on the Dolphins Charter at 30,000 feet and being so very close to my little brother

The Heart of My Brother

(I delivered this homily on November 19, 2014 at the Funeral Mass of my dear brother, Danny.)

Sebastian, all these people are here because they love your father.  And why do they love your father?  Well…because he was Danny!  Danny would own a room the moment he walked in.  He would flash his million-dollar smile and the party would begin.  We are here because we loved Danny, and we are here, Sebastian to thank God for the gift of your father?

Yes Danny would do things that would infuriate us at times, but we know that inside that big firefighter was a heart that could only have been created by God himself. A heart where the seed of faith was planted by my parents:  the same seed that they planted in my sister and me.  Growing up, Jesus Christ was the center of our home.  We would pray intensely before every meal.  We were taught the meaning of love of neighbor.  We were taught to love God and country since our parents and grandparent fled their own country so they could raise us in a free land.  We were taught to open our hearts to the poor, to the less fortunate, to the stranger.  Many people have always pointed out how different Danny the firefighter and his brother the priest are.  I have said this many times and my own mother can confirm this, but my brother has a heart that is bigger than mine.  It was a heart that even this priest envied.  It was a heart that was raised in a loving home by two extraordinary parents who raised their three children exactly the same way.  It was a home where three vocations of service were nurtured:  a priest, a sign language interpreter, and a firefighter.  My mother prided herself in telling anyone who asked that each of her children served the Lord in their own way because in our kitchen was a sign that displayed the Old Testament verse, “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord (Joshua 24:15).”  It was a home that was consecrated to the Immaculate Heart of Mary that allowed each of us to answer God’s call and to utter in different ways: “Be it done to me according to thy word (Luke 1:38).”  But it was my brother’s heart that was the biggest, and it impacted so many lives especially those he served in the line of duty as a firefighter. 

My brother rarely talked or bragged about the heroism he displayed every day that he put on the uniform of a City of Miami Firefighter.  But over the last few days, his brother firefighters have shared with me stories that show me and show my parents that the seeds of faith that they planted bloomed beautifully when he served the people of Miami.  Not long ago, he showed a young firefighter what compassion was all about.  This young firefighter wrote this to my brother on Saturday night:  “I remember a homeless guy at 3am covered in urine and smelling awful with no real 911 emergency—we knew he just wanted out of the rain.  You treated that man like he was an old friend.  Talking to him kindly and being warm with him even though we were near our 20^th call of the tour.  When we left him at [Jackson], I watched you shake his hand.  And the man thanked you. Your reply was to thank him for the “conversation” you shared in back of the rescue.  I will remember you Danny as will so many others for being a good man with a good heart.”

This was my brother.  He may not have gone to church every Sunday, but he lived the Gospel of Jesus Christ during every shift and every tour.  He loved his vocation with reckless abandon.  I’ll never forget his graduation from the academy when he scaled the ten story training building in Coconut Grove and came down headfirst!  It was with that same reckless abandon that he played football (I still remember a game when he proudly wore the Columbus uniform in which he dislocated his finger, sat out one play, popped it back in, ran back on the field, only to break his finger on the next play…my brother!) But in the firefighter’s uniform, he exemplified what it meant to be a firefighter and a Christian.  This is what our parents taught us and this is the legacy of service he leaves behind to all of his brothers who wear the uniform throughout South Florida in so many departments.  May the Good Lord and St. Florian, the patron of firefighters, always protect you all.

Yet we gather this morning with a void in our hearts.  It is a void that can only be filled by Jesus Christ and his merciful love.  A wise nun told my mother on Saturday that the mercy of God is far greater than the justice of God.  So we gather to pray for my brother and the repose of his soul comforted by the words we just heard from St. John:  “Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we shall be has not yet been revealed.  We do know that when it is revealed we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is (1 John 3:2).”  This is what our family spiritual director told us with firm conviction on that awful Saturday morning:  “Now your brother is being embraced by God our Father with the unconditional love that he has for all of us.  And now he sees all the Truth that he did not see before.”  This is the same priest that baptized my brother in the waters of eternal life 35 years ago and who sprinkled him with those same waters this morning.  And yesterday I reminded my mother who kept repeating that her son was now an angel, I said, “Mom, as Christians we don’t aspire to be angels, we aspire to be saints,” for the saints are the ones who are blessed to behold the magnificent face of our Father in heaven.

My friends, our Savior tells us “do not let your hearts be troubled…In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places.”  We pray that Danny enter the dwelling place that Jesus has prepared for him: for he died for him, loved him and blessed that incredible heart of my brother in this life.

His was a heart that loved his son more than words can express, and now we need to shower my nephew with the same love of Jesus.  Sebastian, who is the greatest gift that Danny gave our family, inherited the heart of his father and along with his mother we need to nurture, protect and fill that heart with unconditional love.

And now all of us who grieve lean on the Merciful Heart of Our Lord for consolation and strength.  We look to Him who is the Way, the Truth and the Life.  Only with faith can we overcome this trial.  Only by following the example of Mary who also had to bury a Son can we persevere through any dark hour.  But we lean on Lord in this month of thanksgiving, to thank Him for the gift of Danny, for the gift of his smile, for the gift of his good looks, his charisma, his charm, his strength, his grit, his determination, his service, and most of all for that amazing heart of his.  Thank you Lord Jesus!  Thank you Lord Jesus! Thank you Lord Jesus, for the gift of my brother.

Rest well, little brother.

Eternal rest grant unto him O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him.

You Are the Church

“You are God’s building.” (1 Cor 3:9)

Today we celebrate the Feast of the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica in Rome.  This is the cathedral of Rome where the Pope is the bishop of Rome and thus it is the cathedral of the Universal Church.  We celebrate this feast to remind us that we are one, holy, Catholic, and apostolic Church in communion with our Holy Father as we rejoice over the dedication of our mother church in Rome.  This feast also serves as a reminder that we are the Church.  It is not a building or a far away building in Rome, but the Church is made up of living stones, the people of God, who in communion with Christ and with those he has entrusted with the care of his flock are called to build up the Kingdom of God here on earth.

We are reminded that as a Church we are called to build upon the foundation that Our Savior left for us.  He founded the Church and the apostles and all who came after built on that foundation.  Here in this particular church that was founded 60 years ago, we continue to build upon the foundation left by the founders of this great parish community.   The works that they did back then laid the framework for what we are doing today as a parish.  Obviously, we gather together for Mass in this beautiful church that our founders labored to build, and we enjoy the fruits of their labor, but what are we leaving for future generations?

Because we are the living Church, we never stop in building up the kingdom of God.  There are so many of your brothers and sisters here in this parish who labor in God’s vineyard and perform great acts of charity without anyone even noticing.  Obviously, in the coming week, we will see many people work during our parish carnival, but there will be many who will be working far from view whose jobs are no less important:  those who stay behind at night to pick up trash, those who wake up early to buy the food, those who perform tiny acts of charity to help these days go by smoother.  But beyond the carnival, in the day-to-day life of this parish, so many wonderful people build up the kingdom with only their Heavenly Father noticing.  We have those who help the poor in our food pantry.  We have an army of people who visit the sick and bring the love that we share in this church on Sundays into people’s homes.  We have ladies that quietly clean our altar cloths and the priests’ vestments.  We have men who without prompting may fix something that is broken.  After all this is your parish and you are the Church.

In short, we are called to reflect this magnificent temple where God resides.  When I was a child, whenever we would go to Mass on Sunday, it was never lost on me that this was God’s house and this is where God lived.  But as a Church, we cannot confine ourselves to these walls.  This is something that our Holy Father has repeated time and again.  If as a Church we are truly called to reflect this temple where God dwells, then we must be living temples of God’s presence out there in the world.  The question and the challenge I leave with you this day as we celebrate what it means to be part of the Church is this: “What am I doing to contribute to the work of our beloved Church?”

Born for Heaven

“Are you unaware that we who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were indeed buried with him through baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live in newness of life.” (Romans 6:3-4)

I remember the first time my mother showed me my baptismal certificate when I was a teenager.  I looked at the date, November 2, 1975, and said to her, “Ugh, Mom! You baptized me on the Day of the Dead.”  This was before I became a priest and before I started to make the connection between baptism and death that St. Paul makes in today’s first reading.  By being baptized we are reborn and become participants in the life of Jesus.  The Catechism of the Catholic Church says “the Church does not know of any means other than Baptism that assures entry into eternal beatitude (Catechism 1257).”  This brings us great comfort this day when we commemorate the faithful departed on All Souls Day.  We commend them this day to the loving arms of our God confident that those who have died with Christ will rise with him as well as St. Paul tells us: “For if we have grown into union with him through a death like his, we shall also be united with him in the resurrection (v. 6).”

I bring up the connection between baptism and death not only because I was baptized on this day, but because of something that I experienced last week.  We got a call in the office that a young woman about a mile from our church was dying of cancer and desired to be baptized before she died.  At this point, there isn’t time to scrutinize and ask questions or catechize.  Someone in intense agony had requested the sacrament that “assures entry into eternal beatitude” so I rushed to her bed.  I took a small amount of water and baptized this blessed soul with the same gentle touch that I use to baptize infants.  Because of the urgency of the moment, it wasn’t until later on that I reflected that this dying woman was indeed blessed for having been baptized before being called home by the Father.  I felt blessed that I could give her this immortal gift from above.

We tend to forget that we were born not for this world but for our heavenly home.  As St. Augustine reminds us, God has made us for Himself which is why our hearts will be restless until they rest in Him.   Many people ask me how a priest can hold it together when confronted by all these moments of death.  I consider it a blessing.  Of course, I don’t want to see someone suffer, nor see their family suffer with them, but there is something about that moment when the Lord calls a soul home that is so profoundly sacred, and as a friend who recently lost his father told me, “so peaceful and beautiful.”  I am keenly aware that the dying person is moments away from being eternally embraced by their God.  All Souls Day reminds us not only of our own mortality, but that as Christians who are united to each other by the same baptism, we are bound to pray for our faith departed, especially the blessed souls of purgatory so that they may gain admittance to the heavenly kingdom.

Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them.

May the souls of the faithful departed rest in the peace of our God.  Amen.