Back before my seminary and priesthood days, I used to travel significantly more than I do now. There are many things I enjoy about travel-long drives with a bag of sunflower seeds, exploring new places, seeing old friends. But there was one element of every long weekend sojourn that could make or break the trip: Sunday Mass at a different parish. It seemed that every time I was out of town I either experienced the most amazing, dynamic parish with a vibrant priest who was on fire, or I stumbled into a bucolic, dying parish that actively fought anything that vaguely resembled change and endeavored to ensure that the same four hymns were repeated until judgement day.
 
On one occasion I attended a parish where the associate pastor was blind from birth. He was led in by a server, had virtually the entire Roman Missal
memorized, and had a ritual printed in braille for the parts that changed from week to week. He was one of the most dynamic preachers I had ever heard, and that was made all the more impressive by the fact that he worked with no notes (obviously). The Gospel that we hear today was being proclaimed on the day that I was at that parish, and Father gave an impassioned homily about the dangers of lust and what it does to us as human beings. I remember that because he said something to the effect of, “People today have no idea about the inherent dignity that God gave them and how that dignity is made incarnate through their bodies. That’s why people dress the way they do; constantly wearing less and less and walking around half-naked. Or at least that’s what I’m told, I really wouldn’t know...”
 
In this day and age there are many who look at the Church’s law on divorce, remarriage, and communion as unnecessary restrictions that don’t
reflect our modern values. But what that blind priest knew, and what so many saints and prophets throughout the history of the Church knew, is that the true beauty of the human body and the true beauty of marriage doesn’t come from those realities in themselves, but rather marriage and the human body are a reflection of God’s nuptial love for us, His holy people.Before any couple gets married in the Church, they sign a declaration stating that they understand
marriage to be “a union which is modeled after and symbolizes God’s ever-faithful love for His people.” Marriage, like every other vocation, is designed in such a way as to invite us into both the suffering of Jesus Christ on the Cross, as well as the Glory of the Resurrection. Marriage cannot change because God’s love for His people does not change.
 
As we reflect on this Gospel, there are many things that we should do as individuals and as a parish to strengthen our own marriages and those around us. Husbands and wives are called to constantly pray both for and with their spouses. They are meant to call one another to account and ensure that they are doing what they need to in order to become the saints that God asks them to be. Above all, they are called to make sacrifices for one another, and to offer them up for the salvation of their souls and the souls of their family. We are also called to support, love, pray for, and walk with those who have suffered
broken marriages, those who are working through difficulties, and those who need healing in their lives. Our Lord and the Church both know that what is asked of married couples is not easy, and we should always work to make sure that we minister to those in difficult situations with mercy and compassion.
As we reflect on this Gospel and on the beautiful gift of matrimony which God has entrusted to His Church and His people, may we always keep those who are called to marriage in our prayers, that they may live out their vocations with integrity.
 
Prayers always,
Fr. McCullough