The Crucifixion

By Fred Vilbig

Did Jesus have to die on the Cross? That question came up this morning at Bible study. Someone asked whether Christ’s Passion and death were “enough” (and I’ll leave that topic for another blog) for all of the sins that have been and will ever be committed? Was it enough to overcome all of the indifference towards God? The selfishness in our world?

The question suggests that God is a harsh judge waiting to mete out justice on us, His creatures. He is waiting for His pound of flesh from us, and to stave him off, Jesus offered Himself. But is it enough?

I don’t see God that way.

Engage

During the period of silence following Communion, I nestled in the pew along with a full house. Through Holy Infant’s signature stained glass, rays of April sunshine showered upon us. Monsignor Buchheit’s attention stirred as a distraction, a man stood in an aisle from the back quarter of the church. Dressed in blue jeans with a cowboy hat tucked beneath his arm, the man walked the aisle approaching the podium. As he climbed the altar steps, Monsignor Buchheit rose, concern written across his brow. With open palm raised, the man waved to our priest for affirmation.

The man appeared even stranger as he faced the congregation. A jigsaw of stitches mended severe cuts enclosed in dark bruises, masking the stranger.

"Good Friday"

What is so "Good" about Friday?  Our loving God sends his son into this world as an example of how to treat one another and live our lives.  How do we thank our Lord for this perfect role model?  We ridicule, torture, and murder him.  He offers his son to us in a gesture of love and this is how we repay him?

And we call Friday "Good"???

Be Not Afraid

What are you afraid of? We all have fears. For instance, I can’t sing. I’m terrible. I’ve never sang in my life. So naturally, you’d think I would avoid singing. Well, not so. I do sing once a year. I do it for the teachers at Holy Infant. I even did it once at the Father/Daughter 7^th grade dinner. It started back in 2009 when I was on School Board. I wrote lyrics to a famous song for Sr. Rosario and the teachers. It seems that bad singing and silly lyrics are well liked. So there I stand with a stupid grin on my face every year bellowing out new lyrics. The joy is at my expense. What do I care? The walls of pride are down. I can get through the fear by knowing it brings joy to others.

So what are you afraid of?

I'm Awake Now

I've got a friend in the parish, Adam.  I'd guess that he is in his mid-thirties - a big, muscular guy.  I think he told me once he played football in college.  Adam was one of the finalists in the arm-wrestling tournament we had at PX90 a few weeks back (yes, we have arm-wrestling at PX90 - ask Bob Phillips what that's all about).  Adam and his wife are active in the parish.  She is currently going through RCIA; He plays basketball on Monday nights, is a regular at PX90, and goes to most of the Men's Club events.

Adam sent me an email the other day, and I can't seem to get it out of my mind.  It gives me chills each time I read it (which has been a few times a day).  I asked if I could share it, and Adam courageously agreed. 

I usually am extremely regimented in the morning on the series of tasks that I have to achieve in order to get out the door at the specific time I need to in order to get to the office by 7 a.m. so that I can start my day. My job runs at an extremely fast pace, more so than any other job I have had in the sales profession I would say. I feel that if I am not in early and focused, I lose money. The mornings are always stressful it seems.

A funny thing happened to me this morning...

The Weapons of War

By Fred Vilbig

I am now reading a book about St. John Vianney, the Cure of Ars. When he was first assigned to the tiny village of Ars (population about 250), he found a very secular community. Although there were several pious souls, the ravages of the French Revolution and Napoleon Bonaparte were quite evident. Few people attended Mass. In fact, Sundays seemed to have been reserved for country dances and drinking.

Fr, Vianney was a devout and simple soul who was greatly troubled about the condition of the spiritual lives of his parishioners. So he brought out the 2 biggest weapons in his arsenal: prayer and fasting. He would spend hours in prayer at night, sleeping very little. A rosary was never far from his hands, with many in his pockets to hand out to anyone willing to take one.

And his fasting was epic.