Standing in the local bagel shop waiting to pick up some bagels for my wife, who is ill and cannot leave the house, I looked at the people crowding the shop and wondered to myself, “Does anyone care that Jesus died for them today?”  I watch the whole world going about its business as if there is nothing special about this day, and I guess for a secular society such as the one in which we live, there really is nothing special about today. To the great majority of people, it is just another Friday. Another day to lie to the public from the bowels of Washington DC. Another day to sell drugs to kids on the street, hoping to make them permanent customers until they die from an overdose or someone shoots them. Another day to fornicate with the woman (or man) with whom one is living with but will not commit to marry. Another day in which abortion clinics will murder 3, 000 innocent children whose only fault was to be conceived by by two utterly selfish people who have made a god out of sex without responsibility. Another day for bishops and priests around the world to promote values which are completely at odds with the teaching of the Church, then trundle off on Sunday to celebrate the Resurrection of Christ in a state of utter rebellion and hypocrisy. Another day that going to Macy’s or buying a Lexus for one’s already bloated life is so much more important than caring for the poor, feeding the hungry, or clothing the naked, as Christ taught us we must do.

In short, it’s just another day in Paradise.

That’s what we have become in this country. We have created a Fool’s Paradise in which we assume that if we are well-fed, have that 72″ plasma TV and a BMW in the driveway, along with an abundance of surplus money in the bank — well, surely those are signs that we are good Christians because God is rewarding us, right? Christianity is a good religion as long as it doesn’t bother

us, and there are plenty of charlatans, masquerading as pastors, who will preach a message of false assurance so the deceived will keep the dollars flowing in.

This behavior is not limited to the false prophets of the “Prosperity Gospel.” So-called “mainline churches” of Protestantism have long ago jettisoned any semblance of the self-denial which our Lord calls us to. Instead of denying our passions, they teach that it is okay to give full expression to your sexual lusts of any sort. If you are a woman and want to be ordained, just whine loudly enough and some local congregation will pick up on that and let you play-pretend that you are a real priest.

Even the Church which considers itself to be “THE Church,” the Roman Catholic Church, is not above such behavior. The Roman Catholic Church in the last sixty years has so pandered to the squalid laziness and self-indulgence of their parishioners that it no longer even looks like a church. The bishops will not excommunicate the wicked, the parishes look more like gymnasiums than churches, the interiors of them have been Protestanized, and the messages are mostly tepid garbage designed not to irritate anyone. Tell me any parish where the priest has preached at least one message in a year warning his people that if they support abortion in any way, shape, or form, they will get a front row seat in hell, complete with torments. No, such behavior would cause a ruckus and loss of membership, and we don’t wish that, do we?

Who really wants to pick up their cross and follow Jesus? I know I don’t. I’ve been tested in this and have found, much to my shame (and numerous trips to the Sacrament of Confession) that in my heart I am every bit as greedy and wicked as the next man. Instead of embracing the Great Fast of Lent with a joyful spirit, I have complained in my heart that I miss eating bacon and hamburgers. Instead of joyfully giving my money to the poor, I have been annoyed when a certain man, whom I am helping to overcome problems in his life, keeps coming to me week after week for more money to meet his needs. I am like everyone else on this sad and wretched little planet – selfish and self-centered. I know what I should do, and I keep failing at it. I get upset when things don’t go exactly as I plan them. I whine and complain when I don’t get my way, instead of looking to God and trusting that as an all-wise heavenly Father, He is doing things that I don’t understand which will ultimately be for my good.  I have my plans, and He should listen to them.

Isn’t that really how we all feel?

Two days ago, I heard a wonderful sermon on Ancient Faith Radio. The priest spoke in detail about how our lives are to be about picking up our cross and following Christ into death. Only by dying to ourselves and our passions do we find the true life that we are meant to live. The whole purpose of the Cross was not the paying off of some judicial punishment we “owed God,” nor was it to get a “get out of hell” card we can use in the Confessional after we sin. It was to make us radically and totally different human beings from what we naturally are. We are naturally selfish – the Cross is to make us utterly self-sacrificial. We are naturally filled with lust – the Cross is to make us chaste. We are naturally God-haters – the Cross is to fill us with love for the God who would suffer a horrendous death for such creatures. We are naturally tied to this world and this life – the Cross is to make us ready and eager for eternal life in the next world.

This is the true message of the Christian faith…and why so many lust after false prophets and false promises that will allow them to fantasize that they are good Christians when in fact they are still putrid, rotting spiritual corpses covered by the thinnest veneer of religiosity. I don’t want to hear your Jesus-talk. I want to see you caring for the poor. I don’t want to see you praying a dozen Rosaries a day – I want to see you ministering to lepers like Mother Teresa.

This is my heart this morning, the day after Holy Thursday. Lent was supposed to help me crucify my flesh and bring it into the obedience of the Holy Spirit. Sitting here today typing my thoughts on this Good Friday, I can only hope that in some small way, it helped me a little closer to Christ.

I have an awfully long way to go.