Y’all……..did you know that it’s hurricane season?  Yep, we are smack dab in the middle of it. From 1 June to 30 November the good folks who study such things and are so very diligent in keeping us all abreast of current weather conditions have quite the time of it for these 6 months.  And thank goodness they are so dedicated to their jobs!  They keep us safe, or as safe as one can be during a catastrophic storm.  I know that many of you can remember Sandy, or Katrina, or Laura or Hugo.  Those were some of the biggest and caused millions and millions of dollars’ worth of damage and loss of life. 

And then, there are the smaller ones, the Cat 1 hurricanes.  In the last 50 years there have been hundreds of those.  I don’t wanna minimize how dreadful a Cat 1 hurricane can be, and while they can be scary, they’re also, at the same time, fascinating.  When Scott and I lived in Myrtle Beach, we were about 500 yards from the ocean.  We’d sit on our covered porch and listen to the waves.  In 2016 we sat on that porch some whilst Hurricane Matthew blew through.  Now, Matthew was a Cat 1, and whilst not terribly destructive in a major way, he was powerful.  Trees and tree limbs blew over and down, the rain was torrential, and he was certainly loud.  Very.  Very.  Loud.  Wind and thunder and rain and rain and thunder and wind. 

What struck me the most about experiencing a hurricane, though, was the aftermath.  Once Matthew blew himself out and moved on, and the sun came from behind the clouds, the silence was absolute.  And in that silence, in that calm, for a few minutes, we were able to just be.  To sit quietly and be thankful we had survived that storm.  To be amazed at the power of nature.  To be cognizant of just how powerless we can be. 

In the reading from the Hebrew Bible appointed for today, we find that the Prophet Elijah had a similar experience:

 At the mountain of God, Horeb, Elijah came to a cave where he took shelter.  Then the LORD said to him, “Go outside and stand on the mountain before the LORD; the LORD will be passing by.” A strong and heavy wind was rending the mountains and crushing rocks before the LORD—but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake—but the LORD was not in the earthquake. 
After the earthquake there was fire—but the LORD was not in the fire. After the fire there was a tiny whispering sound. When he heard this, Elijah hid his face in his cloak and went and stood at the entrance of the cave.

And in the Gospel appointed for today, we hear that oft told story of Jesus walking on the water and Peter making a valiant attempt to do so as well.  Since we have all of us heard that story over and over again, I wanna kinda focus on the “before” and “after.”  So here we go…..

After he had fed the people, Jesus made the disciples get into a boat
and precede him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. 
After doing so, he went up on the mountain by himself to pray. 
When it was evening, he was there alone. 

[Then Jesus decides he needs to be in the boat with the disciples and strolls on over to them, which freaked ‘em out, and Peter, being Peter, has to have some kind of proof and he starts walking on the water to Jesus, it storms, Peter starts to sink, and Jesus, as Jesus does so often with us when we’re going through our own storms, keeps him from drowning.]

After they got into the boat, the wind died down.  Those who were in the boat did him homage, saying, “Truly, you are the Son of God.”

Elijah was able to recognize God in the quiet after the storm.  The disciples were able to recognize Jesus as the son of God in the quiet after the storm.

How many of us who are going through our own storms stop for a minute or 30 and just be quiet, sit in silence, and just be still and wait and listen for God? 

There is a lot, and I mean a LOT of bad theology out there and a great deal of it is concerned with the “how can a loving God let thus and so happen” or “why did God CAUSE this to happen” or “if God loves me how can he make me go through this” kind of stuff.  Lemme clue ya in.  We are not puppets and God does not ‘give’ us the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad things that happen in our lives.  Life happens.  Crap happens.  People make poor choices.  Natural disasters occur.  We get sick.  Nowhere does Holy Writ support the claim that any of these things is God’s doing.  What kind of God would we worship if he, indeed, sent us all the trials and tribulations and suffering and horror for which He is blamed?

But ya know what?  When all of those things happen, we can bet that if we are quiet, if we listen, God will give us the strength to get through it.  The psalmist tells us to “Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD.” – Psalm 27:14 

With all the things going on in our country and throughout the world right now, many of us are distressed, resentful, and most decidedly unhappy.  But in all of the upheaval, if we but take a few minutes to just be quiet, to listen, we can find our calm, our strength, and recognize that God will get us through.

When I was a teenager and in the New Disciples youth choir at my church, we sang “A Quiet Place”, written by Ralph Carmichael.  It became, and still is, one of my fav songs, and it serves as a reminder to us to “be still and know that he is God.”

There is a quiet place
Far from the rapid pace
Where God can soothe my troubled mind

Sheltered by tree and flower
There in my quiet hour
With Him my cares are left behind

Whether a garden small
Or on a mountain tall
New strength and courage there I find

Then from this quiet place
I go prepared to face
A new day with love for all mankind

Whether a garden small
Or on a mountain tall
New strength and courage there I find

Then from this quiet place
I go prepared to face
A new day with love for all mankind

Then from this quiet place
I go prepared to face
A new day with love for all mankind

I wish you quiet. I wish you strength. I wish you peace.  Amen.

You know, if you’ve been coming to Mass for more than five minutes, you know this Gospel. Five loaves, two fish. We’ve heard fifty sermons on it. We get it—Jesus can multiply bread. It’s a classic story, right?

But if all we do is look at the food, we miss the whole point of the Man holding it.

Look at what happened right before that. Jesus just got the news that His cousin, John the Baptist, was murdered. Humanly speaking? He just wanted to get away. He gets on a boat to find a quiet place to grieve. But what do the crowds do? They run along the shore and they’re waiting for Him when the boat hits the sand.

Now think about that. If that were you or me, we’d be annoyed. We’d lock the door and say, “Give me a minute!” But Jesus steps off that boat, looks at the very people who just ruined His quiet time, and His heart breaks for them. He doesn’t walk away.

Last week, you heard me tell you to get off the fence. You can’t live this faith with one foot in the Kingdom and one foot in the world. And today, Saint Paul in Romans tells us why: How can you not be all-in for Jesus when He is 100% all-in on us?

Paul asks what can separate us from the love of Christ. Trouble? Hardship? Peril? The answer is nothing. But let’s be honest with ourselves today: Jesus never leaves us. We leave Him.

People in our lives will leave. Friends move on. Loved ones pass away. The one constant in this whole life is Jesus Christ.

I wonder in my own life how many times He’s just sat there with a grin on His face, shaking His head, knowing His plan was so much easier than the mess I was making. We’ve all been there! We pick and choose which words of Scripture we want to believe because we don’t want to hear it, we sure don’t want to do everything.

I know I wear Jesus out. We all do! We wear Him out when we lose our patience with our spouses or get frustrated with our kids or our bosses… or when somebody is driving ten miles an hour under the speed limit in front of us and we lose our Christian charity in three seconds flat!

We mess up. Constantly.

But the incredible thing about the Gospel is that after all our bad attitudes and stubbornness, Jesus is still sitting there on the shore, waiting for us. He looks at our mess and says, “You don’t have to go away.”

So, when you step up to this Altar today to receive His Body and Blood—where He physically shows us He will never walk away—I want you to ask yourself:

If Jesus is 100% all-in on you… how all-in are you on Him in your daily walk? And how are you going to show the people in your life who feel broken, defeated, or like they’ve messed up too many times, that Jesus hasn’t given up on them either?

Stop fence-sitting. Hand Him your mess, take His love out into a hungry world, and let Him turn your small, broken offering into a miracle.

My siblings in Christ, today we celebrate a unique and beautiful feast—not of a single isolated saint, but of a household. In honoring Saints Martha, Mary, and Lazarus, we are invited into the warmth of Bethany, a place that Jesus chose as a sanctuary from the demands and dangers of His public ministry. In their home, we discover a profound truth about Christian discipleship: Christ does not ask us to choose between service, contemplation, or vulnerability; He invites us to weave them together in love.

​For generations, Martha and Mary have often been set against one another in a false rivalry. Martha, the tireless worker, distracted by many things; Mary, the quiet contemplative, sitting at the Lord’s feet. But when we look closer, we see that their actions are two sides of the very same coin of devotion.

​The Two Sides of Devotion:

​Martha’s Holy Ministry: Martha’s hospitality was not mere social convention; it was an act of profound diakonia—the same service Christ models for us. It was Martha who, upon Lazarus’s death, ran out to meet Jesus while He was still on the road. Her grief did not paralyze her; it drove her to theological heights. It is Martha who utters one of the most magnificent confessions of faith in the entire Gospel: “Yes, Lord; I have believed that you are the Christ, the Son of God, he who comes into the world.” * Mary’s Sacred Presence: Mary reminds us of the anchor for all Christian action. Without sitting at the feet of the Master, our service risks becoming bitter, hollow, or self-centered. Her act of anointing Jesus’s feet with costly perfume was an outpouring of unconditional love—a recognition of His impending sacrifice that the rest of the disciples failed to grasp.

​Lazarus’s Silent Witness: And what of Lazarus? He speaks no words in the Gospel narrative, yet his very life is a sermon. Brought forth from the tomb, bound in linen, he is the living proof of Christ’s power over death. Lazarus represents the vulnerability we all share, and the restorative grace that calls us out of our dark, isolated tombs into the light of community.

​The Lesson of Bethany:

​In the household of Bethany, Jesus found a place where He could truly be Himself. He wept for Lazarus, He gently counselled Martha, and He received the devotion of Mary.

​As we reflect on this holy triad, let us ask ourselves: is our parish, our home, and indeed our inner life a “Bethany” for Christ?

​We are called to have the hands of Martha to serve a hurting world, the heart of Mary to listen deeply to the Spirit, and the humility of Lazarus to allow ourselves to be loved, redeemed, and called forth from darkness.

​May we never separate service from prayer, nor hide our vulnerability from the One who comes to share our life. Amen.

​Let us pray:

​O God, Who didst call Saints Martha, Mary, and Lazarus to serve Thy Blessed Son in the intimacy of their home, and didst bless their household with His presence and friendship:

​Grant, we beseech Thee, that by their examples and intercession, we may find our true identity in Thee.

​Give us the zeal of Saint Martha, that we may serve our neighbours with unflagging charity and confess Thy truth with boldness.

​Give us the devotion of Saint Mary, that we may ever sit at the feet of Thy Word, listening to His wisdom and offering Him the perfume of our adoration.

​Give us the hope of Saint Lazarus, that when we are bound by the shadows of sin and despair, we may hear Thy life-giving voice calling us out into the light.

​Make our hearts a sanctuary of peace and a dwelling place for Thy Holy Spirit, that we may one day be brought with them to the heavenly banquet, where Christ liveth and reigneth with Thee and the Holy Ghost, ever one God, world without end.

​Amen.

My dear brothers and sisters in Christ, today the Lord is putting a very direct question right in front of our faces: What are you actually chasing in this life, and what are you willing to walk away from to get it? In the Gospel, Jesus doesn’t complicate things. He talks about a guy working in a field who stumbles on a hidden treasure, and a merchant who finally tracks down the perfect pearl. And look at what they do. They don’t drag their feet, they don’t complain about the price tag, and they don’t look back. Out of pure, absolute joy, they go and sell every single thing they own just to lock it down. Now, the world looks at that and thinks it’s a massive sacrifice. But when you’ve spent a lifetime seeing what passes for “treasure” in this world, you know better. When you realize that the living Christ and the fire of the Holy Spirit are the ultimate prize, walking away from the temporary, fleeting distractions of this world isn’t a painful loss at all. It’s just a smart, joyful trade.

To see that clearly, you need real spiritual wisdom—the exact kind of gut-level discernment King Solomon begged God for in our first reading. Remember, Solomon was a young leader stepping into a massive responsibility, and God told him he could have anything he wanted. He didn’t ask for wealth, fame, or the destruction of his enemies. He looked at his calling, realized his own limitations, and asked for an understanding heart to know right from wrong and to lead his people with integrity. That is where we must take a hard look in the mirror. Look at how much time we waste chasing counterfeit treasures, running after status, material comfort, or looking for something to calm the anxieties and the storms inside our own chests. But the truth is, the world can’t give you that peace. In a few moments at the Offertory, we’re going to sing a line that says it all: “You are the voice that calms the storm inside me… It’s always been You.” That’s the breakthrough right there. True wisdom is realizing that the answer to your restlessness isn’t found in the next worldly distraction; it’s always been Christ. He is the ultimate treasure, and He’s already right here, present in the Word and waiting for you at this altar in the Holy Eucharist.

Now, as a parish family at St. Michael’s, we love to worship. We let the Holy Spirit move dynamically, and we stand firm on the solid truth of our Dominican roots. But let me be perfectly straight with you: we do not come here just to get comfortable, sing our praises, and keep the fire to ourselves inside these four walls. The grace we receive at this altar is meant to draw a line in the dirt. So, I am challenging every single one of you today. Don’t just leave here today saying it was a nice Mass. Take a hard look at your life this week and ask yourself: How am I going to take this treasure and use it to better the Kingdom of God—not just in the quiet routine of my own personal prayers, but out there in the lives of the people who need it most? I challenge you to identify the lesser things you’re still clinging to, lay them down, and actively bring the raw, authentic light of Christ into your homes, your workplaces, and your neighborhoods. Stop holding back, start leading by example, and let’s go out there and build the Kingdom together.

Dominus vobiscum.

† Frank Bellino, PhD, OPI

The Feast of Saint James the Apostle calls us to reflect on the profound transformation of a disciple from a man of ambitious thunder to a witness of sacrificial love. In the Gospels, James and his brother John are famously nicknamed the “Sons of Thunder” (Boanerges). They were men of fiery passion, intense zeal, and, at times, misguided ambition. We see this clearly when they, along with their mother, approached Jesus to ask for the ultimate seats of honour in His kingdom—one at His right hand and one at His left.

​Jesus responded with a question that pierces through all human ambition: “Are you able to drink the cup that I am about to drink?” Without fully understanding the weight of their words, they answered, “We are able.” —

​From Ambition to Alignment

​James’s initial understanding of Christ’s kingdom was likely wrapped up in earthly glory, power, and the overthrow of oppression. Yet, walking with Jesus transformed his thunderous zeal into a holy, enduring devotion. He came to realise that the right hand and the left hand of Jesus would not be flanked by golden thrones, but by two crosses on Calvary. The “cup” Jesus spoke of was not a chalice of earthly triumph, but the cup of suffering, surrender, and ultimate sacrifice.

​To truly follow Christ is to move past our own desires for recognition and position. James teaches us that alignment with God’s will requires a stripping away of self-interest.

​The First of the Twelve

​James did indeed drink from that cup. As recorded in the Book of Acts, he became the first of the twelve apostles to suffer martyrdom, put to death by the sword under King Herod Agrippa. The man who once sought the highest place of honour found it in the highest form of service—laying down his life for the Gospel.

​His journey from a fisherman on the Sea of Galilee to the first apostolic martyr reminds us of several vital truths for our own ministries and lives:

​Transformation is a process: Christ does not call the perfect; He calls the willing and shapes them through fellowship, correction, and grace.

​Zeal must be channeled: Our natural passion and energy are gifts from God, but they must be disciplined and directed toward the cross, not our own advancement.

​The cost of discipleship: True leadership in the kingdom of God is always measured by our willingness to serve and to sacrifice.

​As we honour Saint James, let us examine our own hearts. Are we seeking the crowns of this world, or are we willing to drink the cup of Christ? May we, like James, leave behind our nets, our ambitions, and our thunder, so that we may be filled with the quiet, powerful strength of the Holy Spirit.

​A Prayer of Commemoration and Dedication

​Almighty and everlasting God, we offer You heartfelt thanks and praise for the life and witness of Your holy apostle, Saint James. As he was prompt to leave his father and all that he had to answer the call of Your Son Jesus Christ, grant that we, too, may evermore be ready to forsake all worldly and selfish ambitions to follow You.

​Lord, we confess that like the Sons of Thunder, we often seek our own glory and desire the places of honour in this life. Cleanse our hearts of all pride and self-seeking. Teach us the true meaning of the cup of suffering and service, that we may walk in the path of humility and love.

​We pray for all who shepherd Your flock and counsel Your people. Grant them the courage of James to stand firm in the face of adversity, the wisdom to guide with pastoral grace, and the zeal to proclaim the Gospel with boldness.

​Strengthen us to drink the cup You place before us, trusting that Your grace is sufficient for every trial. Bring us at last, with Saint James and all Your saints, into the fullness of Your eternal joy, where we may behold Your glory face to face.

​Through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever.

​Amen.

Y’all………  Whenever I find something dreadful or irritating or wicked mean and nasty, and I am particularly helpless to do anything about them, there are some sayings that I will, without fail, fall back on.  Some of these have become kinda cliche:

His checkbook will get balanced one of these days.

Karma’s a bitch.

What goes around comes around.

Some are more literary based:

“The mills of God grind slowly, but they grind small”. Friedrich von Logau as translated by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

“The universe does not carry debts. It always returns back to you what you gave it.” — Drishti Bablani

And some are more faith based.

God’ll getcha.

And hell is hot.

But ya know, as much as I go on and on about love and forgiveness and acceptance and being an all-round loving and decent human being and quoting Jesus in the process, Jesus also delivered a warning to those folks who didn’t get with the program and persisted in their terrible, horrible, no good, very bad ways.  The Gospel appointed for today tells us:

His disciples approached him and said, “Explain to us the parable of the weeds in the field.”  He said in reply, “He who sows good seed is the Son of Man, the field is the world, the good seed the children of the kingdom.   The weeds are the children of the evil one, and the enemy who sows them is the devil. The harvest is the end of the age, and the harvesters are angels.  Just as weeds are collected and burned up with fire, so will it be at the end of the age.   The Son of Man will send his angels, and they will collect out of his kingdom

all who cause others to sin and all evildoers.  They will throw them into the fiery furnace, where there will be wailing and grinding of teeth.  Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father.  Whoever has ears ought to hear.”

Well now.  It appears that God will, indeed, getcha, and that hell is, as the saying goes, exceedingly hot.  A few months ago, if you will remember, I posted a bit about “If/Then” statements and the gist of that little sermon was Jesus saying, “If you love me, then you will keep my commandments.”  And it appears that I’m gonna kinda repeat the “If/Then” thing here, but not the “pretty version.”  Y’all remember way back when, when we were in school and the teachers said, “If you will complete your assignments and study, you’ll do well and make good grades”?  Which, of course meant that if you didn’t complete your assignments and study, you’d flunk.  Or the “If you do that, you’ll be grounded for life” from our parents.  And some of us would test those boundaries to see if the bad stuff happened…and lo and behold, it did. 

So this, like everything else that Jesus said, he meant that.  Now, I am certainly no great theologian, and I would never, never, never tell anyone what to believe.  And besides that, it’s been proven over and over and over again that if our faith is growing, and we are learning, then our beliefs change.  [And I can hear some of you immediately going on the defensive and saying, “My faith will never change!”  Ummm…..So what you’re saying is that the faith you had when you were wee is still the faith you have now, and you’ve not learned anything in spite of the Bible studies and classes and your faith has not grown?  See?  Growing faith is learning faith, so spare me the righteous indignation.  A stagnant faith is a dead faith.  Period.  Now, if I may continue…]  So this “fiery furnace” thing that Jesus was talking about?  Do you know exactly what Jesus meant?  The easy answer is “Hell.” 

But what is Hell?  Sigh…this has been debated over and over and over again pretty much forever.  Biblical writers utilized specific terms and imagery to describe the concept of Hell:

Gehenna (Fire & Decay): Jesus frequently used this term, which referred to the Valley of Hinnom outside Jerusalem—a literal trash dump where fires constantly burned and corpses were left. Theologically, the unquenchable fire and the “worm that never dies” symbolize total ruin, the absolute consumption of evil, and the agonizing permanence of spiritual death.

Hades (The Void / Darkness): Translated from Greek, this represents the realm of the dead or the grave. Phrases like “outer darkness” symbolize the absolute absence of God’s light, warmth, and presence.

The Lake of Fire: Found in the Book of Revelation, this is a highly symbolic image. Many theologians interpret this fire not as literal flames, but as the overwhelming purity of God’s presence, which brings peace to the repentant but acts as a consuming force for unrepentant evil.

A Prison: Used in the New Testament to signify being trapped in one’s own self-absorbed rebellion and shut out from the joy and life intended for humanity.

The Refiner’s Fire:  In modern Christian theology and devotion, this metaphor emphasizes that suffering or testing is purposeful rather than destructive. The fire is seen as a refining process overseen by a loving Creator, rather than an arbitrary punishment.  (And this is probably where I should mention Purgatory, but I’m not coz that’s a whole different thing and “ain’t nobody got time for dat” at the moment.)

And finally, the term “Fiery Furnace”:  Refers to a famous biblical story in the Book of Daniel where three Jewish men (Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego) were thrown into a blazing furnace by King Nebuchadnezzar for refusing to worship a golden idol. According to the scripture, they were protected by a divine figure and emerged completely unharmed, symbolizing faith, protection during trials, and deliverance. In the New Testament, Jesus uses the “fiery furnace” (or blazing furnace) as a metaphor for final judgment and hell, noting it is a place where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.

What we do know with all confidence is that Hell, in whatever form it takes, will be a total separation from God, and that, like the people who are separated from God, would be a terrible, horrible, no good very bad thing.   And ain’t nobody wanna go there.  So what must one do to avoid that place?  (By now, those of you who have been with me for more than five minutes know exactly what I’m gonna say.)  Jesus has told us, in no uncertain terms, what he expects of us:

Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind. He also stated that the second is like it: to love your neighbor as yourself.

This is the entire foundation of Christian ethics.  And further, Jesus told us, specifically, how to act upon that love: 

“Then the King will turn to those on the left and say, ‘Away with you, you cursed ones, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his demons.  For I was hungry, and you didn’t feed me. I was thirsty, and you didn’t give me a drink.  I was a stranger, and you didn’t invite me into your home. I was naked, and you didn’t give me clothing. I was sick and in prison, and you didn’t visit me.’

 “Then they will reply, ‘Lord, when did we ever see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and not help you?’

 “And he will answer, ‘I tell you the truth, when you refused to help the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were refusing to help me.’ (Matthew 25:41-45)

Pretty clear, huh?  The author of the Letter to the Galatians sums it up pretty nicely:  “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one.”(Galatians 3:28)

There are no walls, no borders, no gender identities, no political parties, no races, no sexualities, no languages, no limits to God’s love and who we are supposed to love.

Good seeds.  Weeds.  Which are you?

Amen.