32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time (A) – November 12, 2023

St. Paul – Lyons, KS

Wisdom 6:12-16; Psalm 63:2-8; 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18; Matthew 25:1-13

The Crisis of Death

As you may or may not know, I went to college at Conception Seminary College, in Conception, Missouri, which is really just a small Benedictine Monastery in the middle of nowhere Northwest Missouri—closest gas station is twenty miles. But during my time there, in the main building of the seminary, we had a wall dedicated to two very important alumni from that school, two priests who had given their lives, laid down their lives for others, born heroic witness to their faith in Christ. One was Fr. Emil Kapaun, the priest we talked about last week grew up down the street.  The other is Fr. Stanley Rother, Blessed Stanley Rother, a priest of the Archdiocese of Oklahoma City who is the most recently declared martyr of the Church; he was martyred during his time serving at the missions in Guatemala—you can go visit his shrine just off of I-35 in Oklahoma City. So these two alumni, heroic witnesses to the faith; soon to be canonized saints.

But when I went back to Conception a little over a year ago to give a retreat to the seminarians, I noticed one big change. One picture had been added to the wall. A seminarian for the Diocese of Wichita, one of my classmates: Brian Bergkamp. Added to this wall of heroes—Blessed Stanley Rother, Fr. Emil Kapaun—and Brian.

On July 9, 2016, I was still a seminarian a couple years away from being ordained a priest. That summer I was serving as a chaplain at Via Christi hospital. It was a Saturday morning, and I was at my parents’ house hanging out. That’s when I got a call from one of my classmates: our other classmate Brian had been out kayaking with friends that morning; boats flipped, and they couldn’t find Brian.

Brian grew up in Garden Plain, just west of Wichita. He was one of seven kids, grew up on a farm there in Garden Plain. His mom would always say that he was just an ordinary kid; he wasn’t perfect, he had struggles and faults, like the rest of us. But he had a desire to serve God and help others, and that’s why he chose to become a priest. And his mom would say that they didn’t do anything too special: they attended Mass every Sunday, and Brian would often serve at Mass, they prayed as a family every night before bed. Brian went to Steubenville Conferences in the summer while he was in high school, and the March for Life. I spent several years in seminary with Brian. He was just the man. Always thinking of others, never taking life too seriously, always smiling. He couldn’t wait to be a priest. We would get ordained the same day.

On July 9, 2016, Brian was out kayaking with several of his friends. It had been raining a bunch in those days, and so the river was extra full. That morning, they hit some choppy waters, and boats overturned. One of the girls with them got thrown from her kayak without a lifejacket. And Brian, without hesitation—Brian did everything he could to save her. Swam to her, gave her his lifejacket, pushed her toward safety. But that was the last time we saw Brian alive. Brian’s body was recovered two weeks later—and I was there, standing on the shore as the fire department pulled him ashore. And I knew right then and there, we were looking at the newest saint. Here is this man who has laid down his life for another. Brian had a bucket list, and on that list was a simple thing: “I want to save someone’s life.” And so yeah, Brian very much deserves that spot alongside people who witnessed to their faith in heroic ways like Blessed Stanley Rother, Fr. Emil Kapaun.

Because Brian didn’t want to save someone’s life to get put on the front page of the paper, or get a bunch of accolades. Brian had a deep faith. And his faith pushed him toward a life of heroic witness to that faith. Brian wanted to respond in faith to everything Jesus had done for him—even at the cost of his own life. And that he did.

The Thessalonians’ Hope

This is the kind of faith we want to imitate, this kind of a response! Yes, in this extreme circumstance, Brian literally laid down his life for another. But he did that so easily because that is what he had been doing his whole life. Brian’s life was about serving others, living for others. He was about to lay down his life, not physically—but he was about to lay down his own plans and hopes and dreams in order to give his life to God and to you, to the Church, as a priest. Brian very well could have been your priest here right now instead of me. Fr. Kapaun: he laid down his life in service to God and those around him long before he physically laid down his life in the prison camp.

Where did that come from? Where does that kind of a response come from? Why is he willing to do that? Well, it sounds too simple, but really it is this simple: it comes from a hope. And the hope is the one Paul was talking about in our second reading, this letter to the Thessalonians.

Remember, he only had three weeks with them, and they had given their lives to Christ totally and completely. But he wrote this letter back to them to clarify some things. They were probably asking a few questions, wondering about a few things. They had watched friends and loved ones literally lay down their lives for this faith. And so they must have been asking, “Is this worth it?”

And so Paul writes back to them and says this: “We do not want you to be unaware, brothers and sisters, about those who have fallen asleep, so that you may not grieve like the rest, who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose, so too will God, through Jesus, bring with him those who have fallen asleep.” Paul is telling them, “Look: yes, we are not spared death. We still endure it. But—but we do not grieve like everyone else, all of those people who have no hope. Because our hope—our hope is that just as Jesus rose from the dead, Jesus will raise us from the dead as well.” That is our hope. That’s it!

And that changes everything! Remember: in that Modern Progressive vision we so often live out of, that we assume is the correct way of looking at the word—in the Modern Progressive vision, this life is all we got! We have 50, 60, 70 years—and then that’s it! “So enjoy it while you can! YOLO! You do you!” We are so so busy because this is the only time we have. Our kids are only in our house for a little while, so we better do everything with them before they’re gone. Life is short. On and on and on. We worry ourselves to death because, so often, we assume that this life is all there is. And if I were to ask you that on a test, I know you could tell me that that’s not true. But practically, concretely, really we live as if it’s not true. We live as if this is all there is.

And yet—Paul says—“We do not want you to be unaware.” There is so much more. This is what the witness of people like Fr. Kapaun and Brian Bergkamp show us: don’t be unaware, there is so much more. They responded with their whole lives, not only at the end of their life, but throughout their life. In very real, and concrete, and practical ways, they gave their lives to God and to those around them. And just like the Thessalonians, that is a faith that turns the world upside down.

How Do We Respond? What is my rallying cry?

As you walked in, you got this little guide (you know how I love my handouts). And this is just a simple tool we put together to help begin to respond. Again, this can all seem very abstract. But we wanted to make it concrete and practical. I’m not going to read this booklet to you right now; this is something that you can take home and read through and follow the instructions. But here’s the short version.

If you look on the back, the number one thing it asks you to do is make a rally cry. Your rally cry is the single most important thing you need to do over the next three to six months to respond in faith to Jesus Christ. And the reason is simple: if there is not something that is most important, everything becomes important; or the quickest deadline is the most important. That’s a very reactionary way to live. Your rally cry is you deciding: “If I am going to begin to turn the world upside down with my faith, what is it that I need to focus on most in the next three to six months?” Once you know that, then you can decide on concrete ways to accomplish that goal (what we call defining objectives). And you can also identify and acknowledge those things that need to get done (what we call standard objectives). And that’s what this booklet will help you do. The Thessalonians lived their faith intensely; there was a threat of death daily. But for us?

For us, it’s very easy to say, “You know, I’ll get to my faith one day.” It’s easy to think, “Well, I have 50, 60, 70 years—I’ll figure it out sometime.” But that’s no way to live! Think of the Gospel today: five are wise, five are foolish; the wise are the ones who were prepared. “Stay awake,” Jesus says. “Stay awake, for you know neither the day nor the hour!” Do you think Brian knew that July 9, 2016 was going to be his last day? No. But it didn’t matter, because he lived every day with his life centered on one thing: his faith. In other words, this is urgent! I know you think you have urgent things in your life, but this is urgent, “you know neither the day nor the hour.”

So today’s question is simple: What is your rally cry? What is it that you need to do? What is the concrete step you need to take? What do you need to do in the next three to six months so that you can say that your faith is something that turns the world upside down? Write it down. And this week, take some time to work on the rest of the booklet.

Here in this Eucharist, we come to very really, practically, and concretely center our lives on Christ. This is our weekly reminder that it is Christ—and Christ alone—who is at the center of our lives, he alone who gives us hope. We are not like those without any real hope, whose hope is only in the few things that can experience in this short life. We live with a real awareness that this could be our last day. And we live, now, here, giving our lives not to the world, not to this sport or that, not to this thing or that—but we give our lives to Christ, to God, to his Church, to those around us. Just as Christ now gives himself to us, we give ourselves, our entire self, back to him in return.