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Pastor's Corner
Welcome to St. John the Baptist Parish
As pastor of Saint John’s I extend the welcome of our parish staff and community to all who enter our website. Christ’s peace be with you!
I hope that we are able to help you find what you need here. We have put a lot of information on our site, as well as links that may connect you to places where others may provide what we cannot. There’s even a contact link where you can ask a question if our website doesn’t give you what you need.
Of course, we also want to provide personal assistance in whatever way we can, if you need to talk to someone.To speak to a person, please call our parish phone at 978-531-0002. During weekday hours, from 9 am to 5 pm, our parish staff or one of our priests can assist you. At other times just follow our directory and leave a message if the person you are seeking is not there.
Please join us for mass any weekday or weekend. Our mission is to live and worship as a eucharistic people, calling forth the gifts of each one and ministering to the needs of others. If you are new, I hope you will let us know who you are and will share our life as fellow Catholics. If you are already a member of our parish, I want you to know that anytime is a good time to get to know more about, or perhaps even get more involved in, the many good things that are happening at Saint John’s. God’s blessings be yours, today and always!

Weekly Letter from Fr. John - Making Sense of Suffering: Reflections from a Friday in Jerusalem
This week I want to offer another personal reflection about my recent visit to the Holy Land with members of clergy from Catholic, Protestant and Jewish congregations in Greater Boston.
Why does God allow innocent people to suffer? I search my heart and soul to come up with something to say when I face the parents of stillborn child or adult children of an aging parent who no longer recognizes them. It is not much easier to explain the pain and death that result from human conflict, except that in these instances human freedom enters the picture and plays a role. There are innocent victims but there are also perpetrators.
The enigma of a loving God seemingly standing by idle as his creatures fall victim to violence struck me anew on the Friday when I entered the old city of Jerusalem with my clergy companions from the Boston area. As we approached the gate, I read aloud the beautiful words of Psalm 122: “I was glad when they said to me: “Let us go in to the house of the Lord. Our feet have been standing within your gates, O Jerusalem. .. Pray for the peace of Jerusalem… peace be within you.” To all appearances it was a sunny, peaceful day in Jerusalem, but the days’ events were making me aware of how fragile and elusive peace is in this part of the world. Earlier that morning we were lectured by an Israeli colonel on “Ethics in the Field.” He explained how a soldier has eight seconds to decide and act on a possible suicide bomber approaching a school bus filled with children. He illustrated the dilemma with actual film footage of the bomber, the school bus and the gunfire which thankfully deterred the terrorist from accomplishing his mission. During his talk, the Colonel’s cell phone rang. A message informed him that a missile had been fired from Gaza into the city of Ashkelon. It was hard to get that image and that news out of my mind as I walked into the City of Peace that Friday morning.
During the day the narrow cobblestone streets of the holy city swelled with Muslims on their way to worship. Their most notable mosque is the Dome of the Rock, located on the site where the second temple once stood and where Jesus and Jews for centuries before him had worshipped. Later, as the sun set and the Sabbath began, a huge crowd of devout Orthodox Jews flood the plaza in front of the Western Wall, another portion of the temple mount which they hold sacred. (On the cover of today’s bulletin you can see the Western Wall and the Dome of the Rock – an ironic view of one sacred place divided by believers!) During a quieter moment of that day, like so many others around me I rested my hand and head on those ancient stones of what has become known as “the wailing wall.” I looked for a crevice in the wall that had enough space to take my briefly written prayers: prayers for peace – for my family, for our parish family, and for the human family and particularly the people of the Middle East.
As Christians we would have our own distinctive way to mark this Friday in this very special place. In the afternoon two fellow priests, Fr. Sean Maher and Fr. Jim O’Driscoll, led our group along the Via Dolorosa, praying, singing, and meditating on the Way of the Cross. Somehow the memory of Jesus’ painful journey to the cross helped me then and later to interpret these scenes of the day that spoke of God and our search for him amid the reality of evil: people of different faiths walking to places of prayer in a land they all call holy, but walking every day with the fear that they or someone they know and love might be the next victim of violence.
It is not easy to understand or to explain to others, especially those who do not share the Christian faith, how the passion and death of Jesus can shed light on suffering. For me, that light begins by realizing that God chose not to stand aloof from the experience of humanity’s pain but to take his place with all who suffer in the world. The message of the cross is one of divine compassion. God truly cares for his creatures and shares their grief and sorrow. In the flesh of his own son he has taken to himself in a very real way our hurt, our wounds, and even our experience of death. The message of the cross is also one of divine courage. Jesus faced torture at the hands of his enemies with steadfast resolve not to resort to violence as the way to peace. Rather, he chose to overcome evil with good. The message of the cross is finally one of divine forgiveness. Rather than speak words of vengeance and condemnation upon his persecutors, Jesus poured out forgiveness and mercy with unlimited abundance.
There is no simple solution to the deep seated conflicts of the Middle East. The military, economic and geopolitical factors are many and complex. But judging from the long history of pain and anger on all sides, it does seem clear to me that there will be no path to peace in the Holy Land that will not demand of all who have been hurt, who have lost land and loved ones, and who truly want peace, new depths of compassion, courage and forgiveness. From a Christian perspective, such measures of compassion, courage and forgiveness find their exemplar and their deepest roots in the beloved son of God who wept as he looked down on the city and the people that he loved with all his heart.

Does everyone have a Guardian angel? Is there a heirarchy of angels?
Angels are spirits, created by God, but mysterious to us because they are not known or comprehensible to us as are material things that have color, shape, weight and other physical properties. Our profession of faith refers to God as Creator of things “visible and invisible.” The people we meet in the Bible, including Jesus, had a definite awareness that there are such spiritual creatures. They fell into two categories: (1) those who do what God wants, namely angels, and (2) those who have rejected God’s will and work against his purposes, namely devils or demons. The purpose of angels is contained in the Greek word from which our English word comes. “Angelos” means messenger. Angels are spiritual beings who serve God by bringing a message to us, as Gabriel did to Mary. Angels can also bring the message of God’s protection and his power over evil, as did the angel, Michael, who is dramatically portrayed in our sanctuary as he casts down the devil, Satan.
From the scriptures and tradition comes the belief that some angels have a special place in the hierarchy of spiritual beings who do God’s will. In this hierarchy we find what are called the nine choirs of angels. These include in hierarchical order (highest first): seraphim, cherubim, thrones, dominions, virtues, powers, principalities, archangels and angels. The church celebrates two groups of angels in its liturgical calendar. On September 28th, we honor the archangels Michael, Gabriel and Rafael. On October 2 we honor the guardian angels. Guardian angels refer to those spiritual beings whom God sends to watch over us as individuals. What strikes me as helpful in our understanding of and devotion to angels and their place in our prayer is twofold. First, they are signs to us of God’s goodness and our need to have helpers, to know what God wants us to do and to do it. Secondly, they assist us in our efforts to pray. When our spirits are weak and we feel less than worthy or effective in our prayers, those many ranks of angels are there to make our prayers stronger. Hence during the mass we call upon them – “all the choirs of angels” – just before the Eucharistic Prayer, to join with us in singing God’s praise.

This week I want to offer another personal reflection about my recent visit to the Holy Land with members of clergy from Catholic, Protestant and Jewish congregations in Greater Boston.
Why does God allow innocent people to suffer? I search my heart and soul to come up with something to say when I face the parents of stillborn child or adult children of an aging parent who no longer recognizes them. It is not much easier to explain the pain and death that result from human conflict, except that in these instances human freedom enters the picture and plays a role. There are innocent victims but there are also perpetrators.
The enigma of a loving God seemingly standing by idle as his creatures fall victim to violence struck me anew on the Friday when I entered the old city of Jerusalem with my clergy companions from the Boston area. As we approached the gate, I read aloud the beautiful words of Psalm 122: “I was glad when they said to me: “Let us go in to the house of the Lord. Our feet have been standing within your gates, O Jerusalem. .. Pray for the peace of Jerusalem… peace be within you.” To all appearances it was a sunny, peaceful day in Jerusalem, but the days’ events were making me aware of how fragile and elusive peace is in this part of the world. Earlier that morning we were lectured by an Israeli colonel on “Ethics in the Field.” He explained how a soldier has eight seconds to decide and act on a possible suicide bomber approaching a school bus filled with children. He illustrated the dilemma with actual film footage of the bomber, the school bus and the gunfire which thankfully deterred the terrorist from accomplishing his mission. During his talk, the Colonel’s cell phone rang. A message informed him that a missile had been fired from Gaza into the city of Ashkelon. It was hard to get that image and that news out of my mind as I walked into the City of Peace that Friday morning.
During the day the narrow cobblestone streets of the holy city swelled with Muslims on their way to worship. Their most notable mosque is the Dome of the Rock, located on the site where the second temple once stood and where Jesus and Jews for centuries before him had worshipped. Later, as the sun set and the Sabbath began, a huge crowd of devout Orthodox Jews flood the plaza in front of the Western Wall, another portion of the temple mount which they hold sacred. (On the cover of today’s bulletin you can see the Western Wall and the Dome of the Rock – an ironic view of one sacred place divided by believers!) During a quieter moment of that day, like so many others around me I rested my hand and head on those ancient stones of what has become known as “the wailing wall.” I looked for a crevice in the wall that had enough space to take my briefly written prayers: prayers for peace – for my family, for our parish family, and for the human family and particularly the people of the Middle East.
As Christians we would have our own distinctive way to mark this Friday in this very special place. In the afternoon two fellow priests, Fr. Sean Maher and Fr. Jim O’Driscoll, led our group along the Via Dolorosa, praying, singing, and meditating on the Way of the Cross. Somehow the memory of Jesus’ painful journey to the cross helped me then and later to interpret these scenes of the day that spoke of God and our search for him amid the reality of evil: people of different faiths walking to places of prayer in a land they all call holy, but walking every day with the fear that they or someone they know and love might be the next victim of violence.
It is not easy to understand or to explain to others, especially those who do not share the Christian faith, how the passion and death of Jesus can shed light on suffering. For me, that light begins by realizing that God chose not to stand aloof from the experience of humanity’s pain but to take his place with all who suffer in the world. The message of the cross is one of divine compassion. God truly cares for his creatures and shares their grief and sorrow. In the flesh of his own son he has taken to himself in a very real way our hurt, our wounds, and even our experience of death. The message of the cross is also one of divine courage. Jesus faced torture at the hands of his enemies with steadfast resolve not to resort to violence as the way to peace. Rather, he chose to overcome evil with good. The message of the cross is finally one of divine forgiveness. Rather than speak words of vengeance and condemnation upon his persecutors, Jesus poured out forgiveness and mercy with unlimited abundance.
There is no simple solution to the deep seated conflicts of the Middle East. The military, economic and geopolitical factors are many and complex. But judging from the long history of pain and anger on all sides, it does seem clear to me that there will be no path to peace in the Holy Land that will not demand of all who have been hurt, who have lost land and loved ones, and who truly want peace, new depths of compassion, courage and forgiveness. From a Christian perspective, such measures of compassion, courage and forgiveness find their exemplar and their deepest roots in the beloved son of God who wept as he looked down on the city and the people that he loved with all his heart.
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