The Way

Waze is a wonderful app. When I first started using it, I was convinced I was one of the first people to discover it, only to find out it had been around for years. I tend to be a little behind the latest trends. I sometimes hear a song for the first time and like it so much that I call my niece excitedly to tell her about it. Usually, she laughs and tells me the song is several years old. It's also what happens to me here at Belen Jesuit. Usually, I am the last one to find out about some things. Thank God you guys have loose lips. The students are usually my best source of fairly old information.

My godfather at the Agrupación turned me on to Waze, insisting it's infallible. Type in the address where you want to go, and based on traffic, car accidents, and streetlights, it calculates the best route to get you there in the quickest time. The technology is so great, it even gathers information from other motorists who witness an accident, spot a hidden police officer, or drive by a stopped vehicle on the side of the road in order to give you the most informative and safest route.

I confess, at first, I had my doubts. So, one afternoon, when I was in no particular rush to get home from a baptism at Little Flower in Coral Gables, I tried it. I plugged in the address of Villa Javier on the Belen Jesuit campus and let Waze calculate and guide. I told myself that no matter what, I was going to follow its every command. I know exactly how to get to my house from Coral Gables, I've been driving that stretch for many years, but I was determined to listen to little-miss-know-it-all.

There was doubt from the very beginning. I hadn't pulled out of the parking lot when I was told to turn left on Red Road instead of my usual right. Still holding fast to my decision to listen and obey, I turned left. Less than half a mile heading south (the wrong direction, mind you), the computer-generated female on my iPhone told me to turn right into a residential neighborhood. It sounded ridiculous. I had never ventured into that part of Coral Gables before. I never had any reason to do so. I was slowly becoming convinced Waze was no good.

Two more outlandish turns later, I began arguing loudly with the wonder-app. I yelled as it continued to turn me in every direction except the one, I was sure, would take me home. Even though at the bottom of the screen, Waze insisted I would be pulling into my house at a reasonable hour, I was incredulous. I hadn't even reached a major road! Where was the Wendy's I usually pass having to convince myself not to stop for a chocolate Frosty? Where was the Delicias de España I used to take my grandfather to for lunch? Where was the ramp to the congested Palmetto heading north that leads to that fabulous extension always under construction that deposits me just a mile from my domestic destination?

But amid my concerns, questions, and doubts, I stayed strong and drove on. I kept reminding myself this was just an experiment, an opportunity to prove once and for all whether Waze was all it was cracked up to be. Even though occasionally the screen would flash an ad for a restaurant or an airline or a towing service, I didn't allow myself to be distracted. Finally, after several odd suggestions, I could see where I was heading and began to recognize the possible route Waze had plotted. There was light at the end of the tunnel. Sure enough, not one minute later, I was pulling into my assigned parking space. I was home. Waze works.

If you think about it, our lives are not very different. As people of faith, we understand that ultimately the goal of our lives is to be with God. He is our destination. As Jesus puts it in today's gospel, we are called to go to the Father's house. (John 14:1-12). The challenge is how to get there. How do we make our way to Him without running into a serious accident or heavy traffic?

Well, today's gospel also provides for us the answer: Jesus Christ.

In preparation for his nearing death, Jesus tells his disciples that he will be going away and utters what I consider to be one of the most consoling phrases in all of the Bible: "Do not let your hearts be troubled" (v. 1). He follows it up by telling them he is going to the Father's house to prepare a place for them and assures them they know the way. To this, Thomas the Apostle asks Jesus how he can know "the way" (v. 5). Jesus's response is clear… "I am the way" (v.6).

Now, let's be clear, the response Jesus gives is not that he is a way as if there are several others and you can pick one. That is not what he says. He clearly says he is the way because, simply put, there is no other. He follows that up and says also he is the truth and he is the life. In a world that revels in options and demands the opportunity to make choices, Jesus doesn't give any. He is the way, and the truth, and the life, "no one comes to the Father except through me" (v. 6).

What Jesus was insisting is that the only way to heaven, our ultimate destination, goes through him. He plots the course. He indicates the road we should take and the turns we should make. We may not always know where we are going, we may question one command or another, and we may be convinced he doesn't know what he is doing and that we know better, but ultimately, he knows best.

Years ago, during one of my annual retreats, I read a book titled, "A Song for Nagasaki." It tells the story of Dr. Takashi Nagai. He was a Japanese scientist, researcher, convert to Catholicism, and survivor of the atomic bomb. This man was raised by Shinto Buddhist parents and came from a long line of honorable Japanese doctors. His fascination with science led him to medical school where he decided there was no substance to his ancestors' religious beliefs and concluded adamantly that God did not exist.

Dr. Nagai's desire to study the great scientific minds of the past eventually led him to a book by French philosopher and mathematician Blaise Pascal titled, "Pensées." In it he was shocked to read this learned and world-renowned man of science was also a devout Catholic, a man of faith. After also befriending a Japanese Catholic family, whose ancestors were martyrs for the Catholic faith in Nagasaki, Dr. Nagai began to wonder if there was any truth to the God of Pascal. Was there more to life than the physical reality we touch and taste and smell? Was there more to life than what we can see through a microscope or dissect with a scalpel?

Slowly, he began to change and open his heart to Christ. He began to understand there was no conflict between faith and science. The God who created the universe was a God of order and beauty and his thirst for understanding the world was nothing more than a thirst for understanding its Creator. He continued reading Pascal and was amazed at how often the French mathematician spoke of prayer and contemplation. So, with nothing else to lose, he did it. He prayed. What unfolded was a life of study and prayer that plotted him on a course towards total surrender to God.

Dr. Nagai's conversion was unexpected. He didn't understand why certain things happened to him, why good and bad experiences made their way into his life and the lives of others, why an all-knowing, all-powerful God would allow disease and war and poverty to exist in the world, but he couldn't deny he was attracted to the greatness of his newly found faith. He realized that the suffering and death he often saw in the people he treated, when united with the suffering and death of the Son of God, could take on new meaning and offer hope. It was the kind of hope that he, as a scientist and doctor, could offer.

Years later, on August 9, 1945, one of two atomic bombs was dropped on Japan leveling his hometown of Nagasaki. Over 80,000 people died. Nagai survived. He spent countless hours working tirelessly to relieve the suffering of many. He was aware that the greatest gift he had to offer the stricken people of his village did not come so much from his medical training, but from his faith. While he suffered greatly witnessing the tragedy of war, a war that even took the life of his beloved wife, he also witnessed the blossoming of faith that emerged in the lives of those left alive.

Dr. Nagai died five years laterof leukemia and radiation poisoning. Before his death he wrote, "Some get themselves into a knot over the unfairnesses of God's Providence. Why are some people afflicted with low IQs, handicapped bodies, weak physiques, and material poverty? I don't know, but I can assure you of this: if all of us accept ourselves as we are, it is absolutely certain that a day will come when we can see how God's plans have been accomplished, and precisely through our weakness… we are all equal in this: each of us is born to manifest God's glory, to know, love and serve him here below and share in his eternal life after death."

These are words from a man who at one point in his life was convinced God did not exist. Passionate about discovering the truth, he discovered Christ. Dr. Nagai basically had typed the word "truth" as the address to where he wanted to go and God took advantage of it, sending him down paths he never expected, roads he wasn't too sure about, and through neighborhoods that were completely foreign to him. But he went and, sure enough, not one minute later, he was home.

My brothers, members of the class of 2026, whether you are aware of it or not, each of you is on a path to God. Some of you will have paths that are more direct, while others will take many turns. Some paths will be smooth, while others will be filled with potholes and speed bumps, riddled with occasional accidents and unexpected detours. Along the way, Jesus has placed and will continue to place people in your lives who have traveled the road before you, people who have witnessed accidents and spotted dangers.

Belen has hopefully done that for you. Every time Mr. Maza reminded you, "Freedom within discipline," he was indicating the Way. Every time Mr. O taught you that the derivative of the accumulated area under a function up to a point is just the value of the function at that point, he was indicating the Way. Every time Dr. Goodall spoke to you about the Unmoved Mover, Efficient Cause, or Contingent and Necessary Being, he was indicating the Way. And every time you came to Mass in this chapel, went to confession, sat at adoration, or attended a retreat, it was indicating the Way. Not an APP, not Artificial Intelligence, not ChatGPT, just real-life people and real-life experiences God has put in your life to show you the Way. Like the iron that sharpens iron, as this year's school theme tells us, these people will help turn you in the direction you need to take. They will warn you and advise you, but in the end, you drive the car.

As you prepare to leave the safety and warmth of this Belen community that has been your home for seven years, you will embark on a journey that will necessarily have its unforeseen twists and turns. Understand that Jesus will oftentimes have you making a left when you want to turn right, he will have you turn around and head in the opposite direction when you want to plow straight ahead. Be assured, you will not always understand. You will oftentimes argue, doubt, and even disobey, but when the arguing and the doubting and the disobeying has you sitting in unexpected traffic caused by an accident you could not have possibly known about, you can always turn back to Christ and trust in his "waze."