My dear parishioners, following his resurrection from the dead, Jesus appears by the shore of Galilee where he cooks breakfast for his apostles. Thereafter, Our Lord probes Peter three times by asking, ”Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” He was referring to the other apostles. Upset, Peter cries out, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.”  [Jn 21:15,17]
 
Jesus instructs Peter to work: "Feed my sheep."  [v. 17]  He directs him to sacrifice: "You will stretch out your hands, and another will gird you and carry you where you do not wish to go."  [v. 18]  This prophecy foretells Peter’s martyrdom in Rome. Our Lord directs this message to every leader in the Church, both laity and clergy. All must work to feed the flock. To be a friend of Christ is to shepherd in his name. All must sacrifice to feed the flock. For love without sacrifice is dead.
 
What then are the “green pastures” and “still waters” of which King David sang, but the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass?  [cf. Psa 23:1-2]  To worship the Blessed Trinity on the Lord’s Day is to consummate your Christian work and sacrifice in Jesus name. In the liturgy, the Lord's people are received by God as his sheep and shepherds. Here the Good Shepherd feeds his lambs with his Holy Body and quenches them with his Precious Blood.  [Jn 6:32-25]
 
Ever in our hearts echoes the voice of Jesus: Do you love me more than these? And to what in this generation could be Our Lord be referring? 
 
YOUNG ALTAR servers and acolytes advance far when they learn this important lesson about the liturgy:  Don’t try to be perfect. Rather, strive to make an elegant recovery. The most wonderful example of elegant recovery is, of course, Jesus' resurrection on the third day. I am convinced that for all human beings, life in this broken world is lived authentically in the ‘recovery” zone.
 
Young persons who serve the altar, may you receive this healing truth and enjoy the most elegant recovery of life — the holiness of mind, heart, soul and strength. I pray that you will value your very own personhood as a treasure and see yourselves as God sees you — worthy of love and redemption. I ask God to lead and guide you into a holy life well-lived.
 
ON THE day after Christmas 1992, scarcely three months after my ordination to the priesthood, I was in the Church sacristy preparing for a funeral Mass, my first. Two minutes before the start of the liturgy, the funeral director whispered to me shocking news. The deceased committed suicide. No one in family told me. As I welcomed the family and received the body of the deceased in the name of the Church, I was acutely unprepared for this tragic circumstance and of my existential inadequacies as a presiding priest.
 
Nevertheless, I was consoled by my intention to minister to the very best of my ability. I felt the power of the Holy Spirit and the strength of the Church. As the moment approached for the farewell commendation, I realized that this difficult funeral liturgy had summoned me to a farewell experience of my own. As I read the words of St. Paul's Letter to the Romans--"we know that our old self was crucified"  [Rom 6:6] — I bid farewell to the deceased and adieu to the seminarian and scholastic I had been before my ordination. I said goodbye to the honeymoon of my priesthood and the weeks of first fervor, my untested idealism and a goodly amount of my embarrassing naivete.  Sincerely in the hearts of Jesus and Mary. Your pastor, Reverend Richard Barker.