Readings - http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/112711.cfm
After many months of Ordinary Time, today with the beginning of Advent, we enter into the "busy portion" of our Liturgical calendar. We have been already "ramping up" since the beginning of November, with the celebration of All Saints and All Souls on Nov 1st-2nd as well as our American feast of Thanksgiving this past week. And things will really not slow down completely until after a number of the Feasts that follow Pentecost (which ends the Easter season) in late Spring. But with the beginning of Advent the pace does certainly speed-up.
Now Advent is a Season of Preparation (for the Season of Christmas). It's theme, of course, is of "joyful expectation." We remember during this season that the people of Israel had been predicting the coming of a Messiah (of an/the Anointed One) for hundreds of years before the coming of Jesus and slowly developing their understanding of what his arrival would mean. In a time when we throw a dish into the microwave and tap our watches while our meal heats up, or feel frustrated when a page does not download immediately on our computer screens from the internet, it's probably very hard to imagine preparing for something that didn't take place for _generations_ or even hundreds of years. Yet that was Israel's experience. And in our impatience we could perhaps learn to respect that experience because some of the great questions of our time may not be settled in the course of our lifetimes.
Then Advent is a time of preparation for Christmas. And so it is a hectic time at home trying to make everything "just right" for the family's celebration of the holiday. Hopefully at least some of those preparations would concern more than just getting the material things ready (the Christmas tree, the food, etc) but also getting ready spiritually -- looking at the relationships that need to be fixed, etc.
And this then touches on the final level of preparation that we're asked to reflect on during this season: Christ's second coming or perhaps more importantly, Christ's coming for us at the end of our lives. We will have to make an account of our lives (in one way or another) and so yes, we are asked to keep (or bring) our lives more or less in order. Again, what are the things or relationships that we need to fix?
Some of these frayed or even broken relationships may seem hopelessly lost. Can we at least be ready to fix them when the time arrives? Jesus does tell us that "The Day of the Lord" could really come at any time: "during the middle of the night," "just before dawn," or "first thing in the morning the next day." We're asked to be ready, or at least work on making ourselves ready.
Finally, the First Sunday of Advent, being the first Sunday of a new Liturgical Year is often a time for changes in various practices of the Church. It's hard to avoid mention that today after many years of preparation we are beginning our use of a new translation of the Mass.
The new translation seeks to be more faithful to the imagery present in the Latin original. And that will be nice because some of the recovered imagery is frankly quite interesting. We will be asking the Lord, for instance, to send down his Spirit "like the dew fall" upon our gifts before transforming them into the Body and Blood of Christ. LIKE THE DEW FALL ... what a nice image really. Usually when we think of God's action we think of lightning bolts. Here, we're asked to imagine God's action coming _as gently_ "as the dew fall."
Another effect may strike fear into the hearts of English teachers everywhere who've previously been the ones casting fear into the hearts of generations of middle and high school students by insisting on a very rigid form of grammar where each sentence was to express only one idea and as a rule of thumb would be no longer than about 10-15 words. The new translation of the Mass simply blows these expectations to pieces as it retains not just its Roman imagery but also much of its grammar. So high school students, from this day forward you'll have an excuse when you write a run-on sentence ;-). And you were right before in arguing with your high school English teacher that sometimes it is impossible to adequately express an idea without a couple of extended relative clauses ;-) ;-).
Indeed, it may be that in the coming years there will be more gentle changes to the English translation of the Roman Missal as even Bishops start to say "The order of this (or that) sentence or is just too cumbersome."
But then, such changes have occurred repeatedly and largely peacefully for decades as the various Liturgical commissions in charge of these things tinkered with the translations for the Readings in the Lectionary.
So let us give thanks for the Big change that has arrived in the Liturgy. Some of the recovered imagery is very nice. And the recovered imagery, like of God's action as coming "like the dew fall" _may_ even change hearts.
But let's also pray that the Bishops become brave enough to allow the text to be smoothened out a bit in the future just like this has been done over the years with our Lectionary.
In any case, change has come. Let us glory in some of the newly recovered imagery. And let us take the time during the Season of Advent to work on the aspects of our lives that we really need to fix as well.
God bless you all and have a happy and blessed Advent!
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Monday, October 24, 2011
Oct 16, 2011 - 29th Sun of OT - On Relating to Authority with Wisdom
Readings - http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/101611.cfm
As I’ve said here many times, the Readings each Sunday during Ordinary Time give us a theme from our day-to-day lives and then invite us to see God’s Presence or God’s Good News to us in this aspect of our day-to-day existence.
And the theme this week is rather obvious – our relationship with Authority, with the “powers that be” in this world.
And yet, each time we hear these Readings we, again hear them differently, and they present to us new insights, new promises and new challenges.
Take for instance the first Reading today.
We hear from the Prophet Isaiah reference to what happened when the Persians under their King Cyrus liberated the Israelites from Babylon: The Israelites were allowed to go home. And not only that: they were allowed to go home and worship their own God again, in peace. And not even only that: When the Israelites asked the Persians for help to pay for the rebuilding of the Temple in Jerusalem, the Persians “opened up their check-book” and asked in a sense “how much?”
The Persians were the ancestors to the Iranians of today. Today we Americans think of the Iranians generally in negative terms. We think of them as supporters of terrorists, as religious fanatics, intolerant of others. Yet, back in the day – and this any Iranian proudly would tell us this – the Persians were probably the most enlightened Empire of their time: Sure they did ask the various peoples of their empire for tribute (a sort of “subscription fee” to belong to the Empire) and “membership” wasn’t exactly voluntary. But in return for accepting being “members” of the Persian empire, they were given peace, given access to the accumulated knowledge and wisdom of all the other peoples in the Empire and they were largely left alone.
How many people saw the movie ‘300' of some years ago? That movie was about how the Greeks, led by the Spartans fought-off and eventually defeated the Persians (though perhaps not in that battle in which 300 Spartan Greeks faced and held-off for three days a Persian army of hundreds of thousands at the Pass at Thermopolae, where eventually all 300 Spartans died in defense of their homeland). We understand and sympathize with the Greeks perhaps because we have more in common with them. But at the time the Persians simply didn’t understand why the Greeks were so stubborn, why they could not see the benefit of becoming part of their huge multi-ethnic, multi-cultural empire.
And indeed, in Biblical history, the Israelites remembered the Persians as the best of the Empires that dominated them. The Egyptians had enslaved them. The Assyrians destroyed the Northern Kingdom of Israel from which the 10 tribes that were part of that Northern Kingdom never, ever returned. The Babylonians destroyed the remaining Southern Kingdom of Judah, destroyed Jerusalem and the temple. And dragged the survivors back to Babylon as slaves. It was actually the Persians who liberated the Israelites from Babylon and allowed them to come back to Jerusalem. And ironically, in the closing books of the Old Testament just before the arrival of Jesus, during the time of the Maccabees, the Israelites were fighting the Greeks (who had eventually conquered the Persian Empire) for their independence.
Again, as surprising as it may be – though not to an Iranian – the Persians were remembered by the subject peoples of their empire as being a “good” Empire.
So accepting all the complaints about Iran’s current Islamic regime, about its support of terrorism, human rights violations, still let us remember that the history that their children learn and become proud of is that of a civilization that in its day was actually very enlightened and arguably _kind_ when compared to the empires that preceeded the Persians and even succeeded them.
Very good ...
Now the Gospel Reading of today is one that probably adults here know. Jesus gives the famous response to a very dangerous and almost certainly loaded question of whether it is right to pay taxes to the Romans with “Render onto Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what is God’s.”
But even here, each time we come to this passage, we may hear it a little differently.
In recent years, I had been struck by the Herodians’ “laying it on thick” in their introduction to the question, for we hear them say:
"Teacher, we know that you are a truthful man
and that you teach the way of God in accordance with the truth.
And you are not concerned with anyone's opinion,
for you do not regard a person's status..."
Before they spring the trap:
“Tell us, then, what is your opinion:
Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not?"
Lawful? Indeed. The question was set-up in a manner in which no matter what Jesus would say, he could be destroyed. If he told them not to pay the tax, they would “applaud him” and then as soon as possible denounce Jesus to the Romans as a revolutionary. On the other hand, if Jesus responded by simply saying “pay the tax,” then the Herodians and Pharisees would denounce Jesus to the people at the time as a “collaborator.” So this was a tricky and _probably_ a malicious question....
However, it did occur to me this time, that it was _possible_ that at least on the part of the Herodians (and perhaps even the Pharisees, who were “experts in the law” after all) that the question was at least in part sincere.
Why do I say this? Because similar questions have come-up in recent decades in our time. What do I mean.
Well the most famous time where the question of collaboration with a presumed enemy occurred was in France during World War II. Among the French Civil Authorities of that time, there was a real question of what to do. They all did feel themselves to be patriots. But they did lose the War and the legitimate government of France did surrender to the Germans and an accomodation was worked out between the defeated French government and the victorious Germans. What to do? Reject the “armistice” made by the French with regard to the Germans. But half the country was occupied and in both occupied and unoccupied France, life had to go on. The power had to work, the water had to flow, food and basic commerce had to continue. And it was the responsibility of the local (French) authorities for this to continue to occur. As a result complete opposition to the occupying Germans was impossible and arguably immoral.
On the other side of conflict, the Germans also faced dilemmas. Today, we roundly condemn the German SS as having been self-evidently evil. But this was not nearly as clear to young patriotic Germans in the 1930s. The SS were ‘the elite forces’ of their country. It was like joining the Green Barets or the Rangers. It was only when the war started that it became clear that the SS were expected to perform tasks hardly commensurate to their “elite” status – burning entire villages and slaughtering civilians, most prominently the Jews. And today we know that even within the SS there was resistance to such orders. It wasn’t open. Open resistance to military orders was a capital offense in every army (including the American and British armies) at the time. However, faced with immoral orders such as these, it has been documented, fairly large numbers of SS soldiers started to feign illness. “I’m sorry boss, I’m too sick to shoot people today.”
And in the aftermath of Vietnam, the U.S. bishops have also gone on record in their 1983 pastoral letter The Challenge of Peace, postulating a soldier’s right to _selective conscientious objection_ (a concept utterly unheard of in any army fighting World War II), so that a soldier or pilot today would have the right to say: “Sorry sir, I will not follow your orders to carpet bomb (or drop/launch a nuclear weapon on) the city ...”
So the question of the Herodians in particular could have been at least partly sincere, in effect asking Jesus: “What would you do in our position? The Romans are here. We can’t drive them out. So are we supposed to completely not cooperate with them to the detriment of our own people? Or do we give in, at least partially for the sake of the people?”
Jesus’ response is even more general and is at the foundation in fact of the concept of conscientious objection – that there are some things that can not be compelled, that some things truly belong to God.
So today we find ourselves challenged in several ways. First, we’re asked to look perhaps at the Persians (ancestors of today’s Iranians) and even the Herodians in the Gospel passage kinder than perhaps we would have before. And second, we’re asked perhaps to look more deeply into the questions of morality in public life and in our relationship to authority. We’re asked to relate to authority wisely. And that can be a true challenge for us all.
As I’ve said here many times, the Readings each Sunday during Ordinary Time give us a theme from our day-to-day lives and then invite us to see God’s Presence or God’s Good News to us in this aspect of our day-to-day existence.
And the theme this week is rather obvious – our relationship with Authority, with the “powers that be” in this world.
And yet, each time we hear these Readings we, again hear them differently, and they present to us new insights, new promises and new challenges.
Take for instance the first Reading today.
We hear from the Prophet Isaiah reference to what happened when the Persians under their King Cyrus liberated the Israelites from Babylon: The Israelites were allowed to go home. And not only that: they were allowed to go home and worship their own God again, in peace. And not even only that: When the Israelites asked the Persians for help to pay for the rebuilding of the Temple in Jerusalem, the Persians “opened up their check-book” and asked in a sense “how much?”
The Persians were the ancestors to the Iranians of today. Today we Americans think of the Iranians generally in negative terms. We think of them as supporters of terrorists, as religious fanatics, intolerant of others. Yet, back in the day – and this any Iranian proudly would tell us this – the Persians were probably the most enlightened Empire of their time: Sure they did ask the various peoples of their empire for tribute (a sort of “subscription fee” to belong to the Empire) and “membership” wasn’t exactly voluntary. But in return for accepting being “members” of the Persian empire, they were given peace, given access to the accumulated knowledge and wisdom of all the other peoples in the Empire and they were largely left alone.
How many people saw the movie ‘300' of some years ago? That movie was about how the Greeks, led by the Spartans fought-off and eventually defeated the Persians (though perhaps not in that battle in which 300 Spartan Greeks faced and held-off for three days a Persian army of hundreds of thousands at the Pass at Thermopolae, where eventually all 300 Spartans died in defense of their homeland). We understand and sympathize with the Greeks perhaps because we have more in common with them. But at the time the Persians simply didn’t understand why the Greeks were so stubborn, why they could not see the benefit of becoming part of their huge multi-ethnic, multi-cultural empire.
And indeed, in Biblical history, the Israelites remembered the Persians as the best of the Empires that dominated them. The Egyptians had enslaved them. The Assyrians destroyed the Northern Kingdom of Israel from which the 10 tribes that were part of that Northern Kingdom never, ever returned. The Babylonians destroyed the remaining Southern Kingdom of Judah, destroyed Jerusalem and the temple. And dragged the survivors back to Babylon as slaves. It was actually the Persians who liberated the Israelites from Babylon and allowed them to come back to Jerusalem. And ironically, in the closing books of the Old Testament just before the arrival of Jesus, during the time of the Maccabees, the Israelites were fighting the Greeks (who had eventually conquered the Persian Empire) for their independence.
Again, as surprising as it may be – though not to an Iranian – the Persians were remembered by the subject peoples of their empire as being a “good” Empire.
So accepting all the complaints about Iran’s current Islamic regime, about its support of terrorism, human rights violations, still let us remember that the history that their children learn and become proud of is that of a civilization that in its day was actually very enlightened and arguably _kind_ when compared to the empires that preceeded the Persians and even succeeded them.
Very good ...
Now the Gospel Reading of today is one that probably adults here know. Jesus gives the famous response to a very dangerous and almost certainly loaded question of whether it is right to pay taxes to the Romans with “Render onto Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what is God’s.”
But even here, each time we come to this passage, we may hear it a little differently.
In recent years, I had been struck by the Herodians’ “laying it on thick” in their introduction to the question, for we hear them say:
"Teacher, we know that you are a truthful man
and that you teach the way of God in accordance with the truth.
And you are not concerned with anyone's opinion,
for you do not regard a person's status..."
Before they spring the trap:
“Tell us, then, what is your opinion:
Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not?"
Lawful? Indeed. The question was set-up in a manner in which no matter what Jesus would say, he could be destroyed. If he told them not to pay the tax, they would “applaud him” and then as soon as possible denounce Jesus to the Romans as a revolutionary. On the other hand, if Jesus responded by simply saying “pay the tax,” then the Herodians and Pharisees would denounce Jesus to the people at the time as a “collaborator.” So this was a tricky and _probably_ a malicious question....
However, it did occur to me this time, that it was _possible_ that at least on the part of the Herodians (and perhaps even the Pharisees, who were “experts in the law” after all) that the question was at least in part sincere.
Why do I say this? Because similar questions have come-up in recent decades in our time. What do I mean.
Well the most famous time where the question of collaboration with a presumed enemy occurred was in France during World War II. Among the French Civil Authorities of that time, there was a real question of what to do. They all did feel themselves to be patriots. But they did lose the War and the legitimate government of France did surrender to the Germans and an accomodation was worked out between the defeated French government and the victorious Germans. What to do? Reject the “armistice” made by the French with regard to the Germans. But half the country was occupied and in both occupied and unoccupied France, life had to go on. The power had to work, the water had to flow, food and basic commerce had to continue. And it was the responsibility of the local (French) authorities for this to continue to occur. As a result complete opposition to the occupying Germans was impossible and arguably immoral.
On the other side of conflict, the Germans also faced dilemmas. Today, we roundly condemn the German SS as having been self-evidently evil. But this was not nearly as clear to young patriotic Germans in the 1930s. The SS were ‘the elite forces’ of their country. It was like joining the Green Barets or the Rangers. It was only when the war started that it became clear that the SS were expected to perform tasks hardly commensurate to their “elite” status – burning entire villages and slaughtering civilians, most prominently the Jews. And today we know that even within the SS there was resistance to such orders. It wasn’t open. Open resistance to military orders was a capital offense in every army (including the American and British armies) at the time. However, faced with immoral orders such as these, it has been documented, fairly large numbers of SS soldiers started to feign illness. “I’m sorry boss, I’m too sick to shoot people today.”
And in the aftermath of Vietnam, the U.S. bishops have also gone on record in their 1983 pastoral letter The Challenge of Peace, postulating a soldier’s right to _selective conscientious objection_ (a concept utterly unheard of in any army fighting World War II), so that a soldier or pilot today would have the right to say: “Sorry sir, I will not follow your orders to carpet bomb (or drop/launch a nuclear weapon on) the city ...”
So the question of the Herodians in particular could have been at least partly sincere, in effect asking Jesus: “What would you do in our position? The Romans are here. We can’t drive them out. So are we supposed to completely not cooperate with them to the detriment of our own people? Or do we give in, at least partially for the sake of the people?”
Jesus’ response is even more general and is at the foundation in fact of the concept of conscientious objection – that there are some things that can not be compelled, that some things truly belong to God.
So today we find ourselves challenged in several ways. First, we’re asked to look perhaps at the Persians (ancestors of today’s Iranians) and even the Herodians in the Gospel passage kinder than perhaps we would have before. And second, we’re asked perhaps to look more deeply into the questions of morality in public life and in our relationship to authority. We’re asked to relate to authority wisely. And that can be a true challenge for us all.
Oct 9, 2011 - 28th Sun of OT - Learning to Live Prepared For All Seasons
Readings - http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/100911.cfm
In our Sunday Liturgies, we follow a three year cycle, which means that every three years the Readings that we hear on a given Sunday repeat. However, it has long fascinated me that each time we come to the same readings – three years later – we hear them differently.
The Reading that struck me this Sunday is the second Reading where St. Paul writes to the Philippians:
Brothers and sisters:
I know how to live in humble circumstances;
I know also how to live with abundance.
In every circumstance and in all things
I have learned the secret of being well fed and of going hungry,
of living in abundance and of being in need.
And it struck me because 3-4 years ago, we were living in a very different time. Then things were looking up, or just beginning to look down. Today, three years after entering into the Great Recession, many of our lives are very different. We’ve come to have to learn to live with less and to perhaps better appreciate what we have.
And yet the reading also speaks a second truth -- that things will eventually get better. We may have perhaps taken for granted past prosperity but perhaps the difficulties that we live in now will not last forever either. That things will improve again.
Indeed, the first Reading, coming from the Prophet Isaiah reminds us that ultimately everything will turn out okay. Isaiah proclaims to the Israelites:
On this mountain the LORD of hosts
will provide for all peoples
...
On this mountain he will destroy
the veil that veils all peoples,
the web that is woven over all nations;
he will destroy death forever.
The Lord GOD will wipe away
the tears from every face;
the reproach of his people he will remove
from the whole earth; for the LORD has spoken
No matter what our difficulties may be, financial, personal, with regard to health, etc, everything will ultimately turn out well.
However, we are also reminded then in the Gospel Reading that we do have to choose to accept God’s promise and yes, to be prepared as the case of the man in the parable that we heard today who perhaps suddenly was invited to the King’s banquet but found himself woefully unprepared.
How prepared are we? Can we learn what St. Paul is writing about in his letter today – to be prepared to live in good times and in bad, in times of plenty and in times of need? What do we need to do to be prepared to meet God, when we are told in fact, that all will come out well?
That then is both the Good News and the challenge for us today.
In our Sunday Liturgies, we follow a three year cycle, which means that every three years the Readings that we hear on a given Sunday repeat. However, it has long fascinated me that each time we come to the same readings – three years later – we hear them differently.
The Reading that struck me this Sunday is the second Reading where St. Paul writes to the Philippians:
Brothers and sisters:
I know how to live in humble circumstances;
I know also how to live with abundance.
In every circumstance and in all things
I have learned the secret of being well fed and of going hungry,
of living in abundance and of being in need.
And it struck me because 3-4 years ago, we were living in a very different time. Then things were looking up, or just beginning to look down. Today, three years after entering into the Great Recession, many of our lives are very different. We’ve come to have to learn to live with less and to perhaps better appreciate what we have.
And yet the reading also speaks a second truth -- that things will eventually get better. We may have perhaps taken for granted past prosperity but perhaps the difficulties that we live in now will not last forever either. That things will improve again.
Indeed, the first Reading, coming from the Prophet Isaiah reminds us that ultimately everything will turn out okay. Isaiah proclaims to the Israelites:
On this mountain the LORD of hosts
will provide for all peoples
...
On this mountain he will destroy
the veil that veils all peoples,
the web that is woven over all nations;
he will destroy death forever.
The Lord GOD will wipe away
the tears from every face;
the reproach of his people he will remove
from the whole earth; for the LORD has spoken
No matter what our difficulties may be, financial, personal, with regard to health, etc, everything will ultimately turn out well.
However, we are also reminded then in the Gospel Reading that we do have to choose to accept God’s promise and yes, to be prepared as the case of the man in the parable that we heard today who perhaps suddenly was invited to the King’s banquet but found himself woefully unprepared.
How prepared are we? Can we learn what St. Paul is writing about in his letter today – to be prepared to live in good times and in bad, in times of plenty and in times of need? What do we need to do to be prepared to meet God, when we are told in fact, that all will come out well?
That then is both the Good News and the challenge for us today.
Oct 2, 2011 - 27th Sun of OT - On Tending and Sharing the Goods of our Lives
Readings - http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/100211.cfm
The Readings on the Sundays of Ordinary Time normally give us a theme or an image touching on our experience to reflect on and then to come to see an aspect of the Gospel through that theme or image.
Today the image given us is rather obvious – it is that of the Vineyard. Now most of us here probably don’t have much experience with vineyards. Perhaps the Italians among us do. But many of us have experience with tending a garden. And the key to understanding the first reading and the Gospel today is that the Vineyard (or Garden) that we are given we’re really in trust and really belongs to God. And it’s expected that the Vineyard/Garden that we’re given produces fruit.
But both the Gospel and the 1st Readings are cautionary. They present possible problems or temptations that we may encounter while tending our Gardens.
In the first Reading, the temptation is to do nothing, to just assume that the Garden will grow well and produce fruit without our effort. And we’re told that without our care, our effort the garden will grow wild and produce nothing.
In the Gospel Reading, the temptation is to assume that the Garden (a metaphor really to our lives) belongs exclusively to us and whatever we harvest belongs exclusively to us. The Gospel Reading tells us that the Garden (or Lives) really belongs to God and therefore God has a right to a portion of that harvest.
Do we believe that our lives (and this world) really ultimately belongs to God? And how are we sharing that which we harvest here? That is really what we are being asked here.
Now this can be a challenge to us. We live in a time where “self-actualization” is considered a predominant value. “Be all you can be.” We admire the sentiment expressed in Frank Sinatra’s song “I did it my way.”
But do we understand that ultimately it doesn’t matter if we “became all that we could become,” especially if in doing so we trampled over others? And do we understand the fundamental contradiction between the Gospel and “doing it (only) our way.”
We’re asked to tend the vineyard _together_ and always to remember that this vineyard (our lives, our world, all creation). Ultimately belongs to God. Do we appreciate that? And how can we tend our vineyard, our garden, our lives, our community better together?
The Readings on the Sundays of Ordinary Time normally give us a theme or an image touching on our experience to reflect on and then to come to see an aspect of the Gospel through that theme or image.
Today the image given us is rather obvious – it is that of the Vineyard. Now most of us here probably don’t have much experience with vineyards. Perhaps the Italians among us do. But many of us have experience with tending a garden. And the key to understanding the first reading and the Gospel today is that the Vineyard (or Garden) that we are given we’re really in trust and really belongs to God. And it’s expected that the Vineyard/Garden that we’re given produces fruit.
But both the Gospel and the 1st Readings are cautionary. They present possible problems or temptations that we may encounter while tending our Gardens.
In the first Reading, the temptation is to do nothing, to just assume that the Garden will grow well and produce fruit without our effort. And we’re told that without our care, our effort the garden will grow wild and produce nothing.
In the Gospel Reading, the temptation is to assume that the Garden (a metaphor really to our lives) belongs exclusively to us and whatever we harvest belongs exclusively to us. The Gospel Reading tells us that the Garden (or Lives) really belongs to God and therefore God has a right to a portion of that harvest.
Do we believe that our lives (and this world) really ultimately belongs to God? And how are we sharing that which we harvest here? That is really what we are being asked here.
Now this can be a challenge to us. We live in a time where “self-actualization” is considered a predominant value. “Be all you can be.” We admire the sentiment expressed in Frank Sinatra’s song “I did it my way.”
But do we understand that ultimately it doesn’t matter if we “became all that we could become,” especially if in doing so we trampled over others? And do we understand the fundamental contradiction between the Gospel and “doing it (only) our way.”
We’re asked to tend the vineyard _together_ and always to remember that this vineyard (our lives, our world, all creation). Ultimately belongs to God. Do we appreciate that? And how can we tend our vineyard, our garden, our lives, our community better together?
Monday, September 26, 2011
Sept 25, 2011 - 26th Sun of OT - Seeing Others as God Sees Them
Readings - http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/092511.cfm
Each Sunday during Ordinary Time the Readings offer us an opportunity to reflect on some aspect of our daily lives. Today, it would seem to be how we relate to those around us. Do we see them as Children of God worthy of love, or do we focus on their flaws?
I say this because in the Gospel Reading, Jesus was responding to a common charge leveled against his disciples by others who probably should have known better. Jesus’ disciples were being accused by the priests, elders and scribes of their time to be “a bunch of tax collectors and prostitutes.”
So let’s ask ourselves, how many of the first apostles actually were tax collectors? One, Matthew, who _himself_ calls himself a former tax collector. The others were simple – four fisherman, a zealot (local “PLO guy” basically) a bunch of others of non-descript occupations – but _not_ the worst possible of sinners (collaborators with the Romans).
And then how many of the women around Jesus were actually prostitutes? Possibly one, the future St. Mary Magdalene. And even then there’s some question there. Da Vinci Code aside, it is clear that St. Mary Magdalene was an important figure in the early Church. In the Gospels, she is the first person to see Jesus after his Resurrection. Perhaps out of jealousy, this particular aspect of her past was raised-up against her and it did stick. Was it true that she was a Prostitute. At this point we can not know. What we do know is that even if she had been, she had changed. And there would be some reason to believe that perhaps this aspect of her life before meeting Jesus was exaggerated to hurt her, indeed, supporting my point.
The “tax collector and prostitute” reputation of Jesus’ followers was being exaggerated by opponents of Jesus and the early Church to hurt them. One tax collector and one possible prostitute does not “a den of tax collectors and prostitutes” make. But no matter, that’s what they were accused of.
This then comes to our present day, and effects all kinds of relations, from home, to parish, to community to even Ecumenism.
I remember that when I was in Rome during my years in the seminary, the Professor teaching our Course in Ecumenism, a teacher who was in fact a leading functionary at the Vatican on the question of Ecumenism, pointed out to us that doctrinally speaking, we are really close to the Orthodox Christians. The only matter in which we really differ is in the our understandings of the authority of the Pope. We say that when push comes to shove, the Pope can speak on his own for the whole Church. The Orthodox maintain that while he is the “first among equals” he must speak in concert with the other bishops (patriarchs). But when it comes to the Sacraments, Mary, morals, etc, we hold the same doctrinal views. Yet, my Professor noted we do almost nothing together.
And separately, I do remember finding myself a few years back in an argument with a Serbian Orthodox Christian my age over the question of why U.S. Catholic Relief Services was doing relief work in Bosnia. I told her that I get the history the Balkans, but that certainly U.S. Catholic Relief Services were out there in Bosnia simply to help, that American Catholics generally aren’t out to convert anybody (true almost to a fault), and that actually the bigger problem with Americans is that most probably wouldn’t know where Bosnia is. But to her it was an affront for Catholic Relief Services to be out there feeding hungry people, including hungry Serbs...
Now my Professor contrasted that with our relations with the Protestant faiths, saying that there are all kinds of doctrinal issues with the Protestants but that all over the Western world and especially in the English speaking countries, Protestants and Catholics (even the most radical of Protestants, like the Baptists or Pentacostalists) naturally work together to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, provide basic services to the poor. And he made it a point that this kind of PRACTICAL ECUMENISM needs to be given its proper recognition as well.
But this cooperation extends even beyond the Christian denominations. Every 3-4 months, a Moslem group now feeds the homeless at the Soup Kitchen at our Sister Parish of Our Lady of Sorrows. Why? Well partly because thanks to the legacy of slavery (white Christians enslaving blacks many of whom were actually originally muslims or lands that have become muslim since) a not insignificant portion of the African American population is muslim. And if knows a little about Islam then one would know that there are basically two commandments that moslems are to follow – (1) pray and (2) give alms, feed the poor. Just because someone is wearing a head scarf ought not to disqualify them from helping us help the poor.
I just happen to note this case at Our Lady of Sorrows where the local muslim community periodically helps us help the poor, but if one were to go north, into the more Jewish communities of Skokie and so forth, similar cooperation takes place among the Christian and Jewish communities there as well.
We can choose to look for reasons to not like each other, or we choose to work together for the benefit of all, and then especially of those in need.
But then, let’s go back home to our own lives...
I am absolutely positive that if we don’t like someone, we can find all kinds of reasons to not like them, and some could even be rather solemn sounding / impressive. That’s easy.
But we should really ask ourselves:
(1) Is this negative opinion that we have of someone even true (or even largely true)? Nobody is simply the sum of their flaws. (Even John Wayne Gacy, probably wrote a number of very nice Mother’s Day cards when he was a child. And probably some aunt somewhere probably remembered him fondly). God who sees all, sees those good aspects of others as well (and therefore sees the good aspects in ourselves as well).
and (2) even if it is true, that someone is horribly flawed in some way, what good is it really to dwell on it? Because either the person is quite aware of his/her flaws and is trying actually quite hard to deal with them, or the person is in great denial and is happily pursuing the positive aspects of his/her life, and chances are is probably doing both, dealing with his/her flaws and trying really hard to utilize the positive aspects of his/her life as well.
If we dwell on the negative in others, it brings us down, makes us less likable and almost certainly results in others judging us as harshly as we judge them.
In contrast, we all have the ability to choose to be positive, to try to see the good in people, that which they can offer to others.
Because honestly folks, life is hard enough as it is. We really can’t afford to throw people under the bus. Those people we dismiss or put-down are people who have gifts that could help raise us all up.
But it’s really our choice, we can choose to complain, to put people down and even accuse God of being unfair as we hear in Ezekiel. (Ezekiel reminds the people that it’s actually they who are being unfair because they choose not to see the repentance that God sees).
Or we can choose to try each other like God sees us. After all, we’re reminded in that second reading that Jesus didn’t come and die just for the “good people.” Jesus came and died for everybody, because every one of us is child of God worth saving.
Can we try to start seeing others in the same way?
Each Sunday during Ordinary Time the Readings offer us an opportunity to reflect on some aspect of our daily lives. Today, it would seem to be how we relate to those around us. Do we see them as Children of God worthy of love, or do we focus on their flaws?
I say this because in the Gospel Reading, Jesus was responding to a common charge leveled against his disciples by others who probably should have known better. Jesus’ disciples were being accused by the priests, elders and scribes of their time to be “a bunch of tax collectors and prostitutes.”
So let’s ask ourselves, how many of the first apostles actually were tax collectors? One, Matthew, who _himself_ calls himself a former tax collector. The others were simple – four fisherman, a zealot (local “PLO guy” basically) a bunch of others of non-descript occupations – but _not_ the worst possible of sinners (collaborators with the Romans).
And then how many of the women around Jesus were actually prostitutes? Possibly one, the future St. Mary Magdalene. And even then there’s some question there. Da Vinci Code aside, it is clear that St. Mary Magdalene was an important figure in the early Church. In the Gospels, she is the first person to see Jesus after his Resurrection. Perhaps out of jealousy, this particular aspect of her past was raised-up against her and it did stick. Was it true that she was a Prostitute. At this point we can not know. What we do know is that even if she had been, she had changed. And there would be some reason to believe that perhaps this aspect of her life before meeting Jesus was exaggerated to hurt her, indeed, supporting my point.
The “tax collector and prostitute” reputation of Jesus’ followers was being exaggerated by opponents of Jesus and the early Church to hurt them. One tax collector and one possible prostitute does not “a den of tax collectors and prostitutes” make. But no matter, that’s what they were accused of.
This then comes to our present day, and effects all kinds of relations, from home, to parish, to community to even Ecumenism.
I remember that when I was in Rome during my years in the seminary, the Professor teaching our Course in Ecumenism, a teacher who was in fact a leading functionary at the Vatican on the question of Ecumenism, pointed out to us that doctrinally speaking, we are really close to the Orthodox Christians. The only matter in which we really differ is in the our understandings of the authority of the Pope. We say that when push comes to shove, the Pope can speak on his own for the whole Church. The Orthodox maintain that while he is the “first among equals” he must speak in concert with the other bishops (patriarchs). But when it comes to the Sacraments, Mary, morals, etc, we hold the same doctrinal views. Yet, my Professor noted we do almost nothing together.
And separately, I do remember finding myself a few years back in an argument with a Serbian Orthodox Christian my age over the question of why U.S. Catholic Relief Services was doing relief work in Bosnia. I told her that I get the history the Balkans, but that certainly U.S. Catholic Relief Services were out there in Bosnia simply to help, that American Catholics generally aren’t out to convert anybody (true almost to a fault), and that actually the bigger problem with Americans is that most probably wouldn’t know where Bosnia is. But to her it was an affront for Catholic Relief Services to be out there feeding hungry people, including hungry Serbs...
Now my Professor contrasted that with our relations with the Protestant faiths, saying that there are all kinds of doctrinal issues with the Protestants but that all over the Western world and especially in the English speaking countries, Protestants and Catholics (even the most radical of Protestants, like the Baptists or Pentacostalists) naturally work together to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, provide basic services to the poor. And he made it a point that this kind of PRACTICAL ECUMENISM needs to be given its proper recognition as well.
But this cooperation extends even beyond the Christian denominations. Every 3-4 months, a Moslem group now feeds the homeless at the Soup Kitchen at our Sister Parish of Our Lady of Sorrows. Why? Well partly because thanks to the legacy of slavery (white Christians enslaving blacks many of whom were actually originally muslims or lands that have become muslim since) a not insignificant portion of the African American population is muslim. And if knows a little about Islam then one would know that there are basically two commandments that moslems are to follow – (1) pray and (2) give alms, feed the poor. Just because someone is wearing a head scarf ought not to disqualify them from helping us help the poor.
I just happen to note this case at Our Lady of Sorrows where the local muslim community periodically helps us help the poor, but if one were to go north, into the more Jewish communities of Skokie and so forth, similar cooperation takes place among the Christian and Jewish communities there as well.
We can choose to look for reasons to not like each other, or we choose to work together for the benefit of all, and then especially of those in need.
But then, let’s go back home to our own lives...
I am absolutely positive that if we don’t like someone, we can find all kinds of reasons to not like them, and some could even be rather solemn sounding / impressive. That’s easy.
But we should really ask ourselves:
(1) Is this negative opinion that we have of someone even true (or even largely true)? Nobody is simply the sum of their flaws. (Even John Wayne Gacy, probably wrote a number of very nice Mother’s Day cards when he was a child. And probably some aunt somewhere probably remembered him fondly). God who sees all, sees those good aspects of others as well (and therefore sees the good aspects in ourselves as well).
and (2) even if it is true, that someone is horribly flawed in some way, what good is it really to dwell on it? Because either the person is quite aware of his/her flaws and is trying actually quite hard to deal with them, or the person is in great denial and is happily pursuing the positive aspects of his/her life, and chances are is probably doing both, dealing with his/her flaws and trying really hard to utilize the positive aspects of his/her life as well.
If we dwell on the negative in others, it brings us down, makes us less likable and almost certainly results in others judging us as harshly as we judge them.
In contrast, we all have the ability to choose to be positive, to try to see the good in people, that which they can offer to others.
Because honestly folks, life is hard enough as it is. We really can’t afford to throw people under the bus. Those people we dismiss or put-down are people who have gifts that could help raise us all up.
But it’s really our choice, we can choose to complain, to put people down and even accuse God of being unfair as we hear in Ezekiel. (Ezekiel reminds the people that it’s actually they who are being unfair because they choose not to see the repentance that God sees).
Or we can choose to try each other like God sees us. After all, we’re reminded in that second reading that Jesus didn’t come and die just for the “good people.” Jesus came and died for everybody, because every one of us is child of God worth saving.
Can we try to start seeing others in the same way?
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Sept 4, 2011 - 23rd Sun of OT - Of Working Together / Back to Work Concerns
Readings - http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/090411.cfm
We find ourselves at the beginning of September. In the United States we celebrate Labor Day this weekend and this weekend has traditionally come to mark the end of the Summer for us here.
And the Readings that we hear today can help us to reorient ourselves from the summer which is generally a time of rest and relaxation, to the fall, which to most of us means “back to work,” “back to school,” “back to real life.”
In the life of a parish, “back to work,” “back to real life” means back to “a lot of meetings.” And with meetings come inevitable conflicts.
So the Gospel Reading offers a gentle suggestion of how to deal with a ‘brother’ causing problems. We’re advised not to embarrass the brother, to try to turn him back gently, privately. If that doesn’t work then to call in a few witnesses, to document the case. If that doesn’t work to bring the matter up to the whole Church/community. And finally if that doesn’t work to simply consider the person someone outside the community from then on (as a pagan or tax collector ...).
But the Gospel Reading does not stop there. Nor is it the only the only Reading that we hear today.
We are reminded by the rest of the Gospel Reading (and then by the other two readings, the first and especially the second from St. Paul) that the purpose of such correction is _not_ to prove our superiority over that person but (1) to literally save that person’s life (the first reading from Ezekiel) and (2) to recognize that we are a community of love (the second reading from St. Paul).
Indeed, we are reminded at the end of the Gospel Reading that when 2-3 are gathered in Jesus’ name that Jesus is present and that whenever 2-3 together ask God for anything that it will be granted them.
So the reprimand of the wayward brother (or sister) is _not_ to look for pretexts to expel him/her, so that we could “be right” (or perhaps to get a “better position” in the Church, or even society). It’s only to remind us that we really are “in this together,” and are being asked to work as brothers and sisters toward a common goal – heaven, the Kingdom of God – and yes, one’s selfishness, egotism, or problematics, can distract, derail us from this goal.
But let’s be clear, we need everybody. Even the person expelled from the community is, in fact, to be missed. His/her absence does (and, in fact, by definition) diminish the whole. And indeed, even if we often focus on _the problems_ that someone may pose us, _all of us_ are more than just a summation of our sins or failings.
So conflicts do diminish us. They diminish the life of families, they diminish life of communities, they diminish life in parishes.
So then, as we approach a new beginning of the “busy time of the year,” let us take this time to seek to put aside the temptation to be “petty” and seek to work for the benefit of all, for the benefit of the parish and indeed the for the benefit of the Kingdom of God.
(And if we reflect on this, it ought to be clear, that this working toward a common purpose has been, in fact, largely the goal of the labor movement that we remember in this country during this weekend as well).
So God bless you all, and may we work together to make this a better parish, better community and better world in the year to come.
We find ourselves at the beginning of September. In the United States we celebrate Labor Day this weekend and this weekend has traditionally come to mark the end of the Summer for us here.
And the Readings that we hear today can help us to reorient ourselves from the summer which is generally a time of rest and relaxation, to the fall, which to most of us means “back to work,” “back to school,” “back to real life.”
In the life of a parish, “back to work,” “back to real life” means back to “a lot of meetings.” And with meetings come inevitable conflicts.
So the Gospel Reading offers a gentle suggestion of how to deal with a ‘brother’ causing problems. We’re advised not to embarrass the brother, to try to turn him back gently, privately. If that doesn’t work then to call in a few witnesses, to document the case. If that doesn’t work to bring the matter up to the whole Church/community. And finally if that doesn’t work to simply consider the person someone outside the community from then on (as a pagan or tax collector ...).
But the Gospel Reading does not stop there. Nor is it the only the only Reading that we hear today.
We are reminded by the rest of the Gospel Reading (and then by the other two readings, the first and especially the second from St. Paul) that the purpose of such correction is _not_ to prove our superiority over that person but (1) to literally save that person’s life (the first reading from Ezekiel) and (2) to recognize that we are a community of love (the second reading from St. Paul).
Indeed, we are reminded at the end of the Gospel Reading that when 2-3 are gathered in Jesus’ name that Jesus is present and that whenever 2-3 together ask God for anything that it will be granted them.
So the reprimand of the wayward brother (or sister) is _not_ to look for pretexts to expel him/her, so that we could “be right” (or perhaps to get a “better position” in the Church, or even society). It’s only to remind us that we really are “in this together,” and are being asked to work as brothers and sisters toward a common goal – heaven, the Kingdom of God – and yes, one’s selfishness, egotism, or problematics, can distract, derail us from this goal.
But let’s be clear, we need everybody. Even the person expelled from the community is, in fact, to be missed. His/her absence does (and, in fact, by definition) diminish the whole. And indeed, even if we often focus on _the problems_ that someone may pose us, _all of us_ are more than just a summation of our sins or failings.
So conflicts do diminish us. They diminish the life of families, they diminish life of communities, they diminish life in parishes.
So then, as we approach a new beginning of the “busy time of the year,” let us take this time to seek to put aside the temptation to be “petty” and seek to work for the benefit of all, for the benefit of the parish and indeed the for the benefit of the Kingdom of God.
(And if we reflect on this, it ought to be clear, that this working toward a common purpose has been, in fact, largely the goal of the labor movement that we remember in this country during this weekend as well).
So God bless you all, and may we work together to make this a better parish, better community and better world in the year to come.
Aug 28, 2011 - 22nd Sun of OT - God’s Promise in Good Times / Bad
Readings - http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/082811.cfm
We are coming to the end of a summer that hopefully was a time of rest and refreshment. During this time, we’ve been fed here each Sunday by a nice set of Readings that gently invited us to reflect on some of Jesus’ parables, some of Jesus’ most famous miracles and finally on two professions of faith of people living in Jesus’ time, the first a simple Canaanite woman (who wasn’t even expected to have faith in Jesus) and the second being of St. Peter, a profession of faith for which Jesus blesses him and promises to build his Church upon him.
Today the Readings become rapidly much bleaker. And they perhaps remind us why it is important to have times of rest and refreshment in our lives, and why it is perhaps important for us to gently learn our faith in those times, because not all life will be easy.
Immediately after St. Peter’s profession and Jesus’ blessing of him for having made it, Jesus tells his disciples that they are going to head to Jerusalem, that he, Jesus will be arrested there by the chief priests and scribes and he will killed (but that this will not be the end, that “after three days, he will raised”).
St. Peter’s head spinning from first the blessing that he received and then from Jesus’ subsequent words tries to tell Jesus “don’t talk like that.”
Jesus instead reprimands the future St. Peter for trying to dissuade him telling the truth (even if it seems like hard/bad news). And then reminds everyone no one is ‘fit to be a disciple of his unless they are willing to take up their cross and follow him.’
Wonderful. What to make of this?
Well it strikes at the heart of Jesus’ mission. If life were always okay, if there was no suffering that we experienced in this world, then there’d be no reason for Jesus to come. He came precisely because all of us will experience pain, difficulty, betrayal, and yes, death, during the course of our lives.
So the Cross will be part of our lives whether we like it or not.
Hopefully though there will also be times like this summer (or other summers) that will be times of gentleness and rest for us, in which we can reflect on our relationship with God without great stress and thus be ready when the hard times come.
I also know very well, that for some here, this summer has been _really difficult_, despite the gentleness of the Readings heard here during this time. We all walk together but we’re all also on our own paths, and God comes to us with various challenges at various times. So yes, every year some of us are presented with challenges that others may not face for a while (or may have faced some years before).
Still hopefully all of us will have had times of tranquility in our lives (and perhaps _come to appreciate_ those times of tranquility when they are with us) because these times can help us have strength to meet the challenges, the difficulties, the Crosses that will inevitably come our way.
So as we approach the end of this summer, for those of us form whom this summer was peaceful and gentle let us give thanks for that. Let us then pray for those for whom this time has _not_ been so gentle or has really been a time of great difficulty. And finally let us give thanks to a God who came to us precisely to give us strength for the times of difficulty in our lives.
We are coming to the end of a summer that hopefully was a time of rest and refreshment. During this time, we’ve been fed here each Sunday by a nice set of Readings that gently invited us to reflect on some of Jesus’ parables, some of Jesus’ most famous miracles and finally on two professions of faith of people living in Jesus’ time, the first a simple Canaanite woman (who wasn’t even expected to have faith in Jesus) and the second being of St. Peter, a profession of faith for which Jesus blesses him and promises to build his Church upon him.
Today the Readings become rapidly much bleaker. And they perhaps remind us why it is important to have times of rest and refreshment in our lives, and why it is perhaps important for us to gently learn our faith in those times, because not all life will be easy.
Immediately after St. Peter’s profession and Jesus’ blessing of him for having made it, Jesus tells his disciples that they are going to head to Jerusalem, that he, Jesus will be arrested there by the chief priests and scribes and he will killed (but that this will not be the end, that “after three days, he will raised”).
St. Peter’s head spinning from first the blessing that he received and then from Jesus’ subsequent words tries to tell Jesus “don’t talk like that.”
Jesus instead reprimands the future St. Peter for trying to dissuade him telling the truth (even if it seems like hard/bad news). And then reminds everyone no one is ‘fit to be a disciple of his unless they are willing to take up their cross and follow him.’
Wonderful. What to make of this?
Well it strikes at the heart of Jesus’ mission. If life were always okay, if there was no suffering that we experienced in this world, then there’d be no reason for Jesus to come. He came precisely because all of us will experience pain, difficulty, betrayal, and yes, death, during the course of our lives.
So the Cross will be part of our lives whether we like it or not.
Hopefully though there will also be times like this summer (or other summers) that will be times of gentleness and rest for us, in which we can reflect on our relationship with God without great stress and thus be ready when the hard times come.
I also know very well, that for some here, this summer has been _really difficult_, despite the gentleness of the Readings heard here during this time. We all walk together but we’re all also on our own paths, and God comes to us with various challenges at various times. So yes, every year some of us are presented with challenges that others may not face for a while (or may have faced some years before).
Still hopefully all of us will have had times of tranquility in our lives (and perhaps _come to appreciate_ those times of tranquility when they are with us) because these times can help us have strength to meet the challenges, the difficulties, the Crosses that will inevitably come our way.
So as we approach the end of this summer, for those of us form whom this summer was peaceful and gentle let us give thanks for that. Let us then pray for those for whom this time has _not_ been so gentle or has really been a time of great difficulty. And finally let us give thanks to a God who came to us precisely to give us strength for the times of difficulty in our lives.
Aug 21, 2011 - 21st Sun of OT - “Who do we say Jesus is?”
Readings - http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/082111.cfm
We are coming to the end of a summer where we have been treated by a series of remarkable Gospel Readings in which we were first treated to Jesus’ manner of teaching by a series of simple/gentle pastoral parables, then to a couple of Jesus’ best known miracle stories – the multiplication of the loaves and Jesus walking on the water. And we’re approaching an “end of the summer” decision time. In today’s Gospel Jesus asks his disciples, who would have seen and heard all of this “Who do you say that I am?”
Note though that already last week, we heard a Canaanite woman profess her faith in Jesus. So Peter’s profession of faith would not have been the first, though it would, of course, be very important.
My sense is that the Gospel writers’ (in this case Matthew) placed the Profession of Faith of the Canaanite woman before that of St. Peter’s to keep us all off balance and humble. Indeed, it is a recurrent theme throughout the Gospels that those who should have known better did not, and those who were at the edges, who no one expected anything of, or even considered worth consideration were the one’s who understood Jesus and the promise of his Gospel the best.
So the Canaanite woman, three times marginalized – a woman, a Canaanite and non-Jewish – beats the apostles to the punch in proclaiming her faith in Jesus and bestowing on him the messianic title “Son of David.”
Today we hear Jesus asking his disciples first “Who do people say that I am?” and then, more pointedly, “Who do _you_ say that I am?”
And the person who speaks up is the future St. Peter.
Now Simon Peter is an interesting choice as well. There were probably smarter Apostles (Judas is said to have “kept the books” for Jesus and the apostles). There were probably richer Apostles (James and John, the sons of Zebedee who seemed to be important as well as Matthew himself, who presents himself in this Gospel as having been a tax collector). Instead it is Simon (Peter) who speaks up.
And Jesus blesses him for this, saying that “[Simon] is Rock (Petras) and on this Rock Jesus will build his church and the gates of Hell will not prevail over it.” For this _one_ taking of initiative, taking of a risk, Jesus blesses Simon Peter, St. Peter forever. Remarkable.
Yet the Bible is full of examples where God blesses who take risks – from Abraham, who at 75 (!) God invites to leave his country and go to a land which he will show him; to Jacob, whose whole life was one of risk taking (in order to survive); to Moses, who on seeing injustice for the first time in his life (at 40) admittedly “lashed out,” suffered grievously for it (had to flee to exile in the desert, but who at 80 (!) God called back to “finish the job;” to Joshua, who was one of the only ones who Moses had sent into the Promised Land to survey it, and was not afraid to advise going to take it (the other spies that Moses had sent there came back with stories of doom. Joshua along with Caleb, the only other spy to have confidence in God, were the only two of their entire generation that God allowed to enter into the promised land); to David whose instant of bravery in taking on the chellenge of the giant Goliath, God famously rewarded; to finally Solomon who also God blessed when at a young age, Solomon, who could have asked God for anything, asked God for wisdom (so that to this day, we remember Solomon to be wise). All these are examples of God blessing those who took risks, who were _not_ “afraid.”
Indeed, those who God cursed (Adam and Eve hiding in the Garden after their first sin, the Israelites who initially _were afraid_ of entering into the Promised Land despite Joshua and Caleb’s advisement that despite the challenges they could take it even in their generation) were those who _chose_ to “be afraid.”
Indeed, Jesus repeatedly told his disciples, indeed often greeted his disciples with the admonition “be not afraid.” So noteworthy of Jesus’ style was this that we have a famous hymn now for the last 30-40 years entitled “Be Not Afraid” and Pope John Paul II (now Blessed Pope John Paul II) wrote an entire book entitled “Be Not Afraid.”
So this Sunday, having heard all that great teaching of Jesus over the past weeks, having recounted again of some Jesus’ more famous miracles and having heard in the these last two weeks of two Professions of Faith made by people in Jesus’ time – that by the Canaanite woman and now St. Peter – we’re asked to “step up”
Who do we say that Jesus is? And how can we put that faith _bravely_ into action?
Remembering that God does bless us when we do step out of ourselves and take a risk in his name.
Amen.
We are coming to the end of a summer where we have been treated by a series of remarkable Gospel Readings in which we were first treated to Jesus’ manner of teaching by a series of simple/gentle pastoral parables, then to a couple of Jesus’ best known miracle stories – the multiplication of the loaves and Jesus walking on the water. And we’re approaching an “end of the summer” decision time. In today’s Gospel Jesus asks his disciples, who would have seen and heard all of this “Who do you say that I am?”
Note though that already last week, we heard a Canaanite woman profess her faith in Jesus. So Peter’s profession of faith would not have been the first, though it would, of course, be very important.
My sense is that the Gospel writers’ (in this case Matthew) placed the Profession of Faith of the Canaanite woman before that of St. Peter’s to keep us all off balance and humble. Indeed, it is a recurrent theme throughout the Gospels that those who should have known better did not, and those who were at the edges, who no one expected anything of, or even considered worth consideration were the one’s who understood Jesus and the promise of his Gospel the best.
So the Canaanite woman, three times marginalized – a woman, a Canaanite and non-Jewish – beats the apostles to the punch in proclaiming her faith in Jesus and bestowing on him the messianic title “Son of David.”
Today we hear Jesus asking his disciples first “Who do people say that I am?” and then, more pointedly, “Who do _you_ say that I am?”
And the person who speaks up is the future St. Peter.
Now Simon Peter is an interesting choice as well. There were probably smarter Apostles (Judas is said to have “kept the books” for Jesus and the apostles). There were probably richer Apostles (James and John, the sons of Zebedee who seemed to be important as well as Matthew himself, who presents himself in this Gospel as having been a tax collector). Instead it is Simon (Peter) who speaks up.
And Jesus blesses him for this, saying that “[Simon] is Rock (Petras) and on this Rock Jesus will build his church and the gates of Hell will not prevail over it.” For this _one_ taking of initiative, taking of a risk, Jesus blesses Simon Peter, St. Peter forever. Remarkable.
Yet the Bible is full of examples where God blesses who take risks – from Abraham, who at 75 (!) God invites to leave his country and go to a land which he will show him; to Jacob, whose whole life was one of risk taking (in order to survive); to Moses, who on seeing injustice for the first time in his life (at 40) admittedly “lashed out,” suffered grievously for it (had to flee to exile in the desert, but who at 80 (!) God called back to “finish the job;” to Joshua, who was one of the only ones who Moses had sent into the Promised Land to survey it, and was not afraid to advise going to take it (the other spies that Moses had sent there came back with stories of doom. Joshua along with Caleb, the only other spy to have confidence in God, were the only two of their entire generation that God allowed to enter into the promised land); to David whose instant of bravery in taking on the chellenge of the giant Goliath, God famously rewarded; to finally Solomon who also God blessed when at a young age, Solomon, who could have asked God for anything, asked God for wisdom (so that to this day, we remember Solomon to be wise). All these are examples of God blessing those who took risks, who were _not_ “afraid.”
Indeed, those who God cursed (Adam and Eve hiding in the Garden after their first sin, the Israelites who initially _were afraid_ of entering into the Promised Land despite Joshua and Caleb’s advisement that despite the challenges they could take it even in their generation) were those who _chose_ to “be afraid.”
Indeed, Jesus repeatedly told his disciples, indeed often greeted his disciples with the admonition “be not afraid.” So noteworthy of Jesus’ style was this that we have a famous hymn now for the last 30-40 years entitled “Be Not Afraid” and Pope John Paul II (now Blessed Pope John Paul II) wrote an entire book entitled “Be Not Afraid.”
So this Sunday, having heard all that great teaching of Jesus over the past weeks, having recounted again of some Jesus’ more famous miracles and having heard in the these last two weeks of two Professions of Faith made by people in Jesus’ time – that by the Canaanite woman and now St. Peter – we’re asked to “step up”
Who do we say that Jesus is? And how can we put that faith _bravely_ into action?
Remembering that God does bless us when we do step out of ourselves and take a risk in his name.
Amen.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Aug 14, 2011 - 20th Sun of OT - The challenge/gift of those who may annoy us
Readings - http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/081411.cfm
It’s been a nice summer with regard to the Sunday readings this year. July had begun with three week opportunity to refect on a number of parables involving simple summertime often pastoral images – wheat, weeds, fields, treasures and pearls. Then we heard a couple of the Gospel’s great miracle stories – Jesus’ feeding of the 5,000 and Jesus’ walking on the sea.
This Sunday appears to form a transition, from the Miracle Readings of the previous Sundays to the readings that focus on confessions of faith. This week we hear of the Confession of Faith of the Syro-Phoenecian woman. Next week, we’ll hear St. Peter’s Confession of Faith.
Indeed, it is interesting that the Syro-Phoenecian woman’s Confession of Faith comes first (and it comes first in the Gospel of Matthew from which the Readings are taken. But then it has been a recurring theme in the Gospel that the marginalized often understand Jesus better than those who should have known better.
And the Syro-Phoenecian woman was not just martinalized but three times marginalized: First, she was a woman, and generally speaking Jewish religious leaders of the time didn’t talk to strange women. Second, she was foreign, ethnically, Syro-Pheonecian. Finally, she was of a foreign religion. She was pagan. And no good Jew talked to pagans.
Yet, this woman came to Jesus and called out “Have pity on me, Lord, Son of David.”
To many, her words ought to seem familiar, even if somewhat jumbled, because they are nearly identical to the blind man Bartimaeus who by the road in Jericho had called out “Jesus, Son of David have mercy on me!” (Mk 10:47, cf Mt 9:27). Bartimaeus was another utterly marginalized person, being blind. And even though he was blind, he actually “saw” better than the dicriples who did not understand who Jesus was and who tried to shut him up.
In the case of the Syro-Phoenecian woman, they tried to do so as well. And remember two weeks ago just prior to the Miracle of the Multiplication of the Loaves, they asked Jesus to send the people home. Repeatedly, the disciples (perhaps to protect their own status) tried to keep others away from “their Jesus.” And so it is here.
***
Now that the Disciples would have behaved this way is not altogether surprising. As I noted, they seemed to be very protective of their closeness to Jesus. However, this reading is somewhat problematic, not because of what the Disciples were doing. Instead the Reading is somewhat problematic because of what Matthew has Jesus himself saying.
Afterall, Jesus himself seemed rather rude to the woman.
First he ignores her. Then he tells the Syro-phoenecian woman that he came for the “lost children of Israel.” Finally he tells her that only “It is not right to take the food of the children
and throw it to the dogs.”
What to make of this?
Perhaps the key here would be to understand that Matthew, writing to a Jewish-Christian was trying to portray Jesus as having been a good Jewish rabbi. Hence Matthew was trying to show his audience that Jesus really did come for the “Lost Children of Israel” first. But faced with both the needs and especially _the faith_ of some of the Gentiles, Jesus, _even if reluctantly_ reached out to them as well. It could have become a way for Matthew’s Jewish-Christian community to come to terms with the reality that the Gentile Christians were coming in, in every larger numbers and “taking over.” They were reminded at least that these Gentile Christians were “of great faith.”
Still it must have been challenging and perhaps even disappointing for to Matthew’s community to see this. Yet, the church was growing.
***
And so then, we come to the challenge of the Gospel Reading for us today:
Who are the people who annoy us? Who we have trouble respecting? Worthy of our time? We all have the people who rub us the wrong way. Can we appreciate that these people, annoying to us as they may be, are still children of the same God, hence our brothers and sisters, and ... gasp ... may have something to teach us?
Can we take then this week, again in the still in the midst of summer to think of a couple of those people who annoy us and try to see how we could come to accept them for who they are (initially annoying as they may seem) and perhaps even see if we can learn a thing or two from them.
This may be a good time of year to do this. Life flows a little slower during the summer and so we may have the time necessary to take a project like this up. Besides, annoyance, “shortness of nerves” or outbursts of anger are often associated with things happening a bit faster than we are prepared to handle. In the summer, things move slower. So we have more time and perhaps a better attitude to take this up.
And it may be very useful to do so. One could gain a friend or two (or reduce the number of people to be worried about) and one could learn a thing or two as well.
Finally, we’d be doing what God wants us to do and preparing ourselves for our destiny in Heaven. Because if we don’t get along here, we’re going to have to get along there.
So then let us then take up this challenge today and seek to use this vacation time to work on fixing a relationship or two. It’ll make us better and help us to appreciate even a few of the people who previously annoyed us or caused us trouble.
It’s been a nice summer with regard to the Sunday readings this year. July had begun with three week opportunity to refect on a number of parables involving simple summertime often pastoral images – wheat, weeds, fields, treasures and pearls. Then we heard a couple of the Gospel’s great miracle stories – Jesus’ feeding of the 5,000 and Jesus’ walking on the sea.
This Sunday appears to form a transition, from the Miracle Readings of the previous Sundays to the readings that focus on confessions of faith. This week we hear of the Confession of Faith of the Syro-Phoenecian woman. Next week, we’ll hear St. Peter’s Confession of Faith.
Indeed, it is interesting that the Syro-Phoenecian woman’s Confession of Faith comes first (and it comes first in the Gospel of Matthew from which the Readings are taken. But then it has been a recurring theme in the Gospel that the marginalized often understand Jesus better than those who should have known better.
And the Syro-Phoenecian woman was not just martinalized but three times marginalized: First, she was a woman, and generally speaking Jewish religious leaders of the time didn’t talk to strange women. Second, she was foreign, ethnically, Syro-Pheonecian. Finally, she was of a foreign religion. She was pagan. And no good Jew talked to pagans.
Yet, this woman came to Jesus and called out “Have pity on me, Lord, Son of David.”
To many, her words ought to seem familiar, even if somewhat jumbled, because they are nearly identical to the blind man Bartimaeus who by the road in Jericho had called out “Jesus, Son of David have mercy on me!” (Mk 10:47, cf Mt 9:27). Bartimaeus was another utterly marginalized person, being blind. And even though he was blind, he actually “saw” better than the dicriples who did not understand who Jesus was and who tried to shut him up.
In the case of the Syro-Phoenecian woman, they tried to do so as well. And remember two weeks ago just prior to the Miracle of the Multiplication of the Loaves, they asked Jesus to send the people home. Repeatedly, the disciples (perhaps to protect their own status) tried to keep others away from “their Jesus.” And so it is here.
***
Now that the Disciples would have behaved this way is not altogether surprising. As I noted, they seemed to be very protective of their closeness to Jesus. However, this reading is somewhat problematic, not because of what the Disciples were doing. Instead the Reading is somewhat problematic because of what Matthew has Jesus himself saying.
Afterall, Jesus himself seemed rather rude to the woman.
First he ignores her. Then he tells the Syro-phoenecian woman that he came for the “lost children of Israel.” Finally he tells her that only “It is not right to take the food of the children
and throw it to the dogs.”
What to make of this?
Perhaps the key here would be to understand that Matthew, writing to a Jewish-Christian was trying to portray Jesus as having been a good Jewish rabbi. Hence Matthew was trying to show his audience that Jesus really did come for the “Lost Children of Israel” first. But faced with both the needs and especially _the faith_ of some of the Gentiles, Jesus, _even if reluctantly_ reached out to them as well. It could have become a way for Matthew’s Jewish-Christian community to come to terms with the reality that the Gentile Christians were coming in, in every larger numbers and “taking over.” They were reminded at least that these Gentile Christians were “of great faith.”
Still it must have been challenging and perhaps even disappointing for to Matthew’s community to see this. Yet, the church was growing.
***
And so then, we come to the challenge of the Gospel Reading for us today:
Who are the people who annoy us? Who we have trouble respecting? Worthy of our time? We all have the people who rub us the wrong way. Can we appreciate that these people, annoying to us as they may be, are still children of the same God, hence our brothers and sisters, and ... gasp ... may have something to teach us?
Can we take then this week, again in the still in the midst of summer to think of a couple of those people who annoy us and try to see how we could come to accept them for who they are (initially annoying as they may seem) and perhaps even see if we can learn a thing or two from them.
This may be a good time of year to do this. Life flows a little slower during the summer and so we may have the time necessary to take a project like this up. Besides, annoyance, “shortness of nerves” or outbursts of anger are often associated with things happening a bit faster than we are prepared to handle. In the summer, things move slower. So we have more time and perhaps a better attitude to take this up.
And it may be very useful to do so. One could gain a friend or two (or reduce the number of people to be worried about) and one could learn a thing or two as well.
Finally, we’d be doing what God wants us to do and preparing ourselves for our destiny in Heaven. Because if we don’t get along here, we’re going to have to get along there.
So then let us then take up this challenge today and seek to use this vacation time to work on fixing a relationship or two. It’ll make us better and help us to appreciate even a few of the people who previously annoyed us or caused us trouble.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Aug 7, 2011 - 19th Sun of OT - Jesus’ outstretched hand to us
Readings - http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/080711.cfm
Each summer, we find ourselves in the U.S. and in Europe in Ordinary Time and every three years we hear the same Readings. But everytime we hear them, we do hear them differently.
I have been amazed this summer how _perfectly_ the Readings fit life during this time of year (at least here in the U.S.A. or in Europe) where summer means vacation, or at least slowing down.
Over these weeks, we’ve heard stories/accounts of wheat, weeds, shrubs, fields, pearls and food. Today we get to talk about water. What a really nice liturgical summer it has been ;-), because probably all us have a story or two about water and the summer that brings back fond memories of family, friends and _hopefully_ the presence of God.
I know something about "waves on a lake" because when I finished my first year in college, my dad and I went canoeing on the Boundary Waters that summer. (Throughout those years, in fact, my dad and I went on a number of wonderful trips, this being the first and one of the best. In the following years, we went hiking in the Smokey Mountains in Tennessee one year, and the other year we went to Banff/Jasper Nat’l Parks in Alberta, Canada which was _another_ great and unforgetable trip). But the first of these trips was to the Boundary Waters.
We drove out to the Boundary Waters, rented a canoe from an outfitter. He dropped us off at one of the lakes and told us that he’d meet us there 5 or 6 days later “at 5 PM” ;-) and that was it.
Now both of us, being Czechoslovakian and former scouts knew _something_ about canoeing. The Czech Republic doesn’t have a whole lot of lakes worth getting a sail-boat for. But it _does_ have a good number of rivers. And so learning something about canoeing is part of growing-up. And we knew something about ponds “rybniky” (a little lake or two) as well. But the rather impressively long (and more to the point, _wide_) lakes of the Boundary Waters did prove to be something of a surprise: when the wind blew, the waves _did get rather large_, or large enough to become worrisome, while sitting in a canoe gliding about a foot above the surface of the water.
Still we were brave, and quite fit in those days. And so we did complete our 5-6 day trek, canoeing/portaging through those lakes. There was only one point where we were rather worried about whether or not we’d “make our ride” the next day "at 5 PM." The wind had been blowing particularly hard that day, and there was a lake that we simply had to cross directly from one shore to the other, without being able to stay near shore.
FORTUNATELY we reached the lake only near sunset. So the wind had died down. The waves were still quite large, but without the wind, they ceased to be that fearsome. What made that trip across the lake unforgettable for me were the colors – with the sun setting, the water turned yellow, orange and brown. Enthralled by this, somewhere near the middle of the lake, I exclaimed (certainly to myself) “My God, it’s like we’re canoeing on jello.”
Now (as I write this), I would hope actually that we had _not_ experienced a “water miracle” and the lake had _not_ turned temporarily into jello ;-), still the experience _of the colors_ was remarkable and though this happened nearly 30 years ago, I still haven’t forgotten it, but recall it as if it happened yesterday. And 30 years later, though I've taken plenty of photos over the years of sunsets and water, I've never seen water _so beautiful_ as I saw on that day.
****
Now I know that the Gospel Reading today is about Jesus calming the sea and even pulling Peter “out of the water” when he tried to walk with him.
We’ve heard this story many times and certainly _the main point_ of this miracle story is that Jesus is capable of walking above all the troubles of this world and is capable of even reaching out toward _us_ to pull _us_ out of the mire when we call for help.
But perhaps it is worth noting just this time, today, thanks to THIS HOMILIST (me), that Jesus used the elements of nature (notably wind and water on a lake) to reveal himself in this miracle to his disciples.
And the story invites _us_ to reflect on the times when _we_ felt particularly close to God (both in nature or in other situations that only _we’d_ appreciate).
I would like to add here that the trips that my dad and I took into the wilderness those years WERE SPIRITUAL JOURNEYS. We always took a Bible as well as other unambiguously Christian spiritual reading when we went on these trips. And yes, we read and we prayed on these trips. And yes, I do believe that these trips were _fruitful spiritual exercises_ that not only brought us closer to each other but also closer to God.
So in closing this homily, I’d like to ask all of you to reflect on when in your lives you’ve sought to come closer to God, and how did you (or could you have) met the _outstretched hand of Jesus_.
God reveals himself in to us _all kinds of ways_, including, above all in the Eucharist that we celebrate here (and why we are here now in the first place).
But I do believe that he does reveal himself to us throughout our lives and _not surprisingly_ in the course of things that we love to do.
Thus the question for this week, again, for your reflection during this lazy time of rest or at least slowing down: Where/when in the course of your life have you felt closest to God? ;-)
And let us give thanks for the remarkable summer that it has been! God bless you all.
Each summer, we find ourselves in the U.S. and in Europe in Ordinary Time and every three years we hear the same Readings. But everytime we hear them, we do hear them differently.
I have been amazed this summer how _perfectly_ the Readings fit life during this time of year (at least here in the U.S.A. or in Europe) where summer means vacation, or at least slowing down.
Over these weeks, we’ve heard stories/accounts of wheat, weeds, shrubs, fields, pearls and food. Today we get to talk about water. What a really nice liturgical summer it has been ;-), because probably all us have a story or two about water and the summer that brings back fond memories of family, friends and _hopefully_ the presence of God.
I know something about "waves on a lake" because when I finished my first year in college, my dad and I went canoeing on the Boundary Waters that summer. (Throughout those years, in fact, my dad and I went on a number of wonderful trips, this being the first and one of the best. In the following years, we went hiking in the Smokey Mountains in Tennessee one year, and the other year we went to Banff/Jasper Nat’l Parks in Alberta, Canada which was _another_ great and unforgetable trip). But the first of these trips was to the Boundary Waters.
We drove out to the Boundary Waters, rented a canoe from an outfitter. He dropped us off at one of the lakes and told us that he’d meet us there 5 or 6 days later “at 5 PM” ;-) and that was it.
Now both of us, being Czechoslovakian and former scouts knew _something_ about canoeing. The Czech Republic doesn’t have a whole lot of lakes worth getting a sail-boat for. But it _does_ have a good number of rivers. And so learning something about canoeing is part of growing-up. And we knew something about ponds “rybniky” (a little lake or two) as well. But the rather impressively long (and more to the point, _wide_) lakes of the Boundary Waters did prove to be something of a surprise: when the wind blew, the waves _did get rather large_, or large enough to become worrisome, while sitting in a canoe gliding about a foot above the surface of the water.
Still we were brave, and quite fit in those days. And so we did complete our 5-6 day trek, canoeing/portaging through those lakes. There was only one point where we were rather worried about whether or not we’d “make our ride” the next day "at 5 PM." The wind had been blowing particularly hard that day, and there was a lake that we simply had to cross directly from one shore to the other, without being able to stay near shore.
FORTUNATELY we reached the lake only near sunset. So the wind had died down. The waves were still quite large, but without the wind, they ceased to be that fearsome. What made that trip across the lake unforgettable for me were the colors – with the sun setting, the water turned yellow, orange and brown. Enthralled by this, somewhere near the middle of the lake, I exclaimed (certainly to myself) “My God, it’s like we’re canoeing on jello.”
Now (as I write this), I would hope actually that we had _not_ experienced a “water miracle” and the lake had _not_ turned temporarily into jello ;-), still the experience _of the colors_ was remarkable and though this happened nearly 30 years ago, I still haven’t forgotten it, but recall it as if it happened yesterday. And 30 years later, though I've taken plenty of photos over the years of sunsets and water, I've never seen water _so beautiful_ as I saw on that day.
****
Now I know that the Gospel Reading today is about Jesus calming the sea and even pulling Peter “out of the water” when he tried to walk with him.
We’ve heard this story many times and certainly _the main point_ of this miracle story is that Jesus is capable of walking above all the troubles of this world and is capable of even reaching out toward _us_ to pull _us_ out of the mire when we call for help.
But perhaps it is worth noting just this time, today, thanks to THIS HOMILIST (me), that Jesus used the elements of nature (notably wind and water on a lake) to reveal himself in this miracle to his disciples.
And the story invites _us_ to reflect on the times when _we_ felt particularly close to God (both in nature or in other situations that only _we’d_ appreciate).
I would like to add here that the trips that my dad and I took into the wilderness those years WERE SPIRITUAL JOURNEYS. We always took a Bible as well as other unambiguously Christian spiritual reading when we went on these trips. And yes, we read and we prayed on these trips. And yes, I do believe that these trips were _fruitful spiritual exercises_ that not only brought us closer to each other but also closer to God.
So in closing this homily, I’d like to ask all of you to reflect on when in your lives you’ve sought to come closer to God, and how did you (or could you have) met the _outstretched hand of Jesus_.
God reveals himself in to us _all kinds of ways_, including, above all in the Eucharist that we celebrate here (and why we are here now in the first place).
But I do believe that he does reveal himself to us throughout our lives and _not surprisingly_ in the course of things that we love to do.
Thus the question for this week, again, for your reflection during this lazy time of rest or at least slowing down: Where/when in the course of your life have you felt closest to God? ;-)
And let us give thanks for the remarkable summer that it has been! God bless you all.
July 31, 2011 - 18th Sun of OT - Some Food For Thought
Readings - http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/073111.cfm
We, of course, continue to find ourselves in the middle of summer and the middle of Ordinary Time. During the past three Sundays, we’ve heard a number of Jesus’ parables which give us much food to chew on, to reflect on during these lazy hot days when much of the northern hemisphere both here in the U.S. and in Europe is on vacation or at least taking it easy by the pool or on a beach somewhere.
This week, we begin a series of Sundays in which we hear a number of miracle stories associated with Jesus.
And since it is summer, and the Gospel passages that we’ve heard throughout the summer have given us “food for thought,” it is perhaps fitting that _the first_ of these miracle stories that we hear is a “food miracle.” It’s the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves and it's a great miracle for the summer-time reflection ;-).
I say this because summer is the time for picnics and gatherings. And who hasn’t worried at least sometime about food during this time? Will the food come? Will there be enough? Will it come out okay? What if someone won’t like it? etc, etc.
And so both the Gospel Reading and really all the Readings this Sunday are about trust in God that “all will turn out well.”
In the 1st Reading, from Isaiah we are reminded again of the need to choose well (perhaps a reminder of last week’s theme) to “not put trust in things that will not satisfy.” But rather to put our trust in God.
In the 2nd Reading, from Romans, a reading that I honestly believe that EVERYBODY should find, cut out and put up on their refrigerator or bathroom mirror for when they need to hear it, St. Paul reminds his readers that NOTHING and NOBODY can separate us from the love of God (so then, why worry about any disaster ...).
Yet all this is well and good but if we find ourselves in an awkward, worrisome situation, this can prevent us from seeing clearly. And so this is where we find the disciples in the Gospel story of today:
Jesus had been preaching all day in a rather deserted place. There were thousands of people there. It was getting late. And the disciples began to worry: “how are we going to feed all these people?”
Jesus tells the disciples, “feed them yourselves.” And they become terrified. They respond that all they have is “five loaves and two fish.” (Incidently, how is that possible. Were they themselves _that stupid_? It would seem that the disciples themselves didn’t have enough food for themselves...).
But Jesus took the opportunity to perform a miracle. He blessed those fish and loaves. And were told that 5,000 men not counting the women and children were fed.
How’d he do that? We don’t know. We’re told that the disciples understood what happened to be a miracle. And a miracle it was, however it happened. A situation that could have ended badly, ended much better than the disciples had feared.
We too, find ourselves in many situations like this. And it makes for an interesting question: How often do we acknowledge the miracle that happened when things turned out better than we feared? Were the resolutions to those situations miracles? God’s answers to our prayers? Honestly ... maybe they were (miracles).
In any case, we are assured that God is indeed with us, that God gives us what we need and especially in that 2nd Reading we are reminded that NOTHING or NOBODY can separate us from God.
So while there is _always_ plenty that one can find to worry about, let’s remember that with God with us all will turn out well... even if someone knocks over the potato salad ;-)
And this all can make for some good ‘food for thought’ as we continue on through this nice lazy summer ... ;-) God bless you all, and have a pleasant coming week!
We, of course, continue to find ourselves in the middle of summer and the middle of Ordinary Time. During the past three Sundays, we’ve heard a number of Jesus’ parables which give us much food to chew on, to reflect on during these lazy hot days when much of the northern hemisphere both here in the U.S. and in Europe is on vacation or at least taking it easy by the pool or on a beach somewhere.
This week, we begin a series of Sundays in which we hear a number of miracle stories associated with Jesus.
And since it is summer, and the Gospel passages that we’ve heard throughout the summer have given us “food for thought,” it is perhaps fitting that _the first_ of these miracle stories that we hear is a “food miracle.” It’s the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves and it's a great miracle for the summer-time reflection ;-).
I say this because summer is the time for picnics and gatherings. And who hasn’t worried at least sometime about food during this time? Will the food come? Will there be enough? Will it come out okay? What if someone won’t like it? etc, etc.
And so both the Gospel Reading and really all the Readings this Sunday are about trust in God that “all will turn out well.”
In the 1st Reading, from Isaiah we are reminded again of the need to choose well (perhaps a reminder of last week’s theme) to “not put trust in things that will not satisfy.” But rather to put our trust in God.
In the 2nd Reading, from Romans, a reading that I honestly believe that EVERYBODY should find, cut out and put up on their refrigerator or bathroom mirror for when they need to hear it, St. Paul reminds his readers that NOTHING and NOBODY can separate us from the love of God (so then, why worry about any disaster ...).
Yet all this is well and good but if we find ourselves in an awkward, worrisome situation, this can prevent us from seeing clearly. And so this is where we find the disciples in the Gospel story of today:
Jesus had been preaching all day in a rather deserted place. There were thousands of people there. It was getting late. And the disciples began to worry: “how are we going to feed all these people?”
Jesus tells the disciples, “feed them yourselves.” And they become terrified. They respond that all they have is “five loaves and two fish.” (Incidently, how is that possible. Were they themselves _that stupid_? It would seem that the disciples themselves didn’t have enough food for themselves...).
But Jesus took the opportunity to perform a miracle. He blessed those fish and loaves. And were told that 5,000 men not counting the women and children were fed.
How’d he do that? We don’t know. We’re told that the disciples understood what happened to be a miracle. And a miracle it was, however it happened. A situation that could have ended badly, ended much better than the disciples had feared.
We too, find ourselves in many situations like this. And it makes for an interesting question: How often do we acknowledge the miracle that happened when things turned out better than we feared? Were the resolutions to those situations miracles? God’s answers to our prayers? Honestly ... maybe they were (miracles).
In any case, we are assured that God is indeed with us, that God gives us what we need and especially in that 2nd Reading we are reminded that NOTHING or NOBODY can separate us from God.
So while there is _always_ plenty that one can find to worry about, let’s remember that with God with us all will turn out well... even if someone knocks over the potato salad ;-)
And this all can make for some good ‘food for thought’ as we continue on through this nice lazy summer ... ;-) God bless you all, and have a pleasant coming week!
July 24, 2011 - 17th Sun of OT - On choosing well ...
Readings - http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/072411.cfm
We find ourselves in the midst of Ordinary Time. And it being the summer / vacation time in much of the world, the Readings that we hear are relatively “easy”, parables mostly over the last three weeks, giving us something to reflect on each Sunday while we enjoy this lazy time of year.
This Sunday’s Gospel offers us two parables both about discernment and making a decision about what is most important to us in life. In the first parable we hear of someone who found a treasure in a field. He buried the treasure again and then put everything that he had into buying that field. In the second parable, we hear of a merchant who found a pearl of great value and that he too, then set out to sell everything that he had to buy that pearl of great price.
And so we’re asked to reflect on today, how we make decisions and what is the “pearl of great price” (or what it ought to be / become) in our own lives.
In reflecting on how we make decisions, we’re not left with a completely open slate. We’re given in the First Reading the example of Solomon, who shortly after becoming King has a vision. He is asked by God what he would want. Solomon was young. He could have asked for anything and he certainly could have been tempted to ask for all kinds of things that would not have been helpful to him. Instead, he asked for wisdom.
Now he could have been partly driven to requesting this, because he was, in fact, young. He wasn’t even really supposed to be king. There were older sons of David who probably should have gone before him. However, his mother, Bethsheba had played her part, and there he was King now, King at a young age, and probably somewhat scared.
But be all that as it may, we hear today that Solomon did choose well by asking for Wisdom. And God blessed him for it. Today something close to 3,000 years later (give or take a few hundred years) we still remember Solomon for being wise.
We too, when we are young (and perhaps earlier than we realize that we are doing so) are asked to make some fairly fundamental decisions – what kind of career direction do we wish to take, who do we marry? And yes, these decisions definitely effect the rest of our lives.
So how do we do them well?
Well, for “whoever has ears, hear...” ;-). An attitude like Solomon’s is probably pretty good: BE HUMBLE and ASK GOD FOR HELP. It’s a lot better to have God on your side in those decisions than to ignore him and take the consequences afterwards.
But what then if we screwed up? What if we chose badly early in life, or chose badly up until this very moment? And all of us who've reached a certain age have made our mistakes in life.
Well the GOOD NEWS OF JESUS CHRIST IS -- QUITE HONESTLY -- THAT THE MISTAKES DON'T ULTIMATELY MATTER. We CAN change. We CAN always come back. That doesn’t mean that our past decisions have no consequences. They do. Guess what, most of us _won’t_ grow up to be President. (Probably none of us were called to be that anyway ... But even if we were, it doesn’t matter. God’s Will will be done in one way or another). AND we were NEVER CALLED TO BE "IMPORTANT" ANYWAY. We weren’t called to be famous. We weren’t called to be Great. We are simply called to be Good. (and let's face it, that's hard enough as it is ;-)
And we find in Scripture that "a little Goodness" on our part _goes a tremendously long way_. David, Solomon’s father, did one True "profession of faith." AS A TEENAGER, no more than about 14-15 years of age, when he was bringing some food to his older brothers “at the front,” he saw the giant Goliath taunting the Israelite army and the whole army (including David’s older brothers) quivering in fear before him. David, not being able to stand this, proclaimed _as a 14-15 year old_ that if no one else will volunteer to take Goliath’s challenge that he would (basically “if God is with us, who can be against us.”) AND FOR THIS SINGLE (perhaps even spontaneous) DECISION, GOD LOVED DAVID FOR THE REST OF HIS LIFE. HE FORGAVE DAVID EVERYTHING THAT HE DID IN LIFE AFTERWARDS (and he did fall/sin a lot ... note Bethsheba). But _none_ of David’s failings mattered to God. For _that one decision_, that ONE instant of faith when he was young, God forgave David _everything_ to the point that when Jesus came to this earth, one of the titles that he carried (mind you, GOD’s OWN SON) was “Son of David.” That is how much God loved David.
God also loved Solomon, to the point that we remember him even up to today as “wise.” In truth, though, after a lot of disappointments and long last, God _did_ tire of Solomon as well (as said of him in Scripture). Solomon did make repeated bad (unwise) decisions later in life (taking, many, many wives, being cruel, etc). And so after Solomon died, the Kingdom of Israel divided ...
However, the point is that God did _put up a lot_ with Solomon as well AND even though he didn't necessarily love Solomon in the end as much as he loved David, TO THIS DAY we remember Solomon for (again) making a _single good decision_ early in life. And we remember Solomon TO THIS DAY for "being wise" (even if later in life, he turned out to lose some of that luster and wisdom).
And lest we worry “Oh my, I made _a lot_ of _terrible_ decisions ‘early in life.’” well remember the Good Thief on the Cross. At the last moment in life, he made a _good decision_ and Jesus promised him “Even today, you will be in paradise.”
So it’s never, ever too late. But we do have to ask God to be with us, in the making of our decisions and then to help carry us through the hard times in life. Difficulty and struggle make-up a great part of all of our lives. Yet, how much easier it is, how much “lighter our burden is” if we have God at our side.
So let’s then make _that_ (God being at our side) _our_ “pearl of great price.” remembering that the rest ... won’t really matter anyway.
So let us ALL come to choose well. God bless you all.
We find ourselves in the midst of Ordinary Time. And it being the summer / vacation time in much of the world, the Readings that we hear are relatively “easy”, parables mostly over the last three weeks, giving us something to reflect on each Sunday while we enjoy this lazy time of year.
This Sunday’s Gospel offers us two parables both about discernment and making a decision about what is most important to us in life. In the first parable we hear of someone who found a treasure in a field. He buried the treasure again and then put everything that he had into buying that field. In the second parable, we hear of a merchant who found a pearl of great value and that he too, then set out to sell everything that he had to buy that pearl of great price.
And so we’re asked to reflect on today, how we make decisions and what is the “pearl of great price” (or what it ought to be / become) in our own lives.
In reflecting on how we make decisions, we’re not left with a completely open slate. We’re given in the First Reading the example of Solomon, who shortly after becoming King has a vision. He is asked by God what he would want. Solomon was young. He could have asked for anything and he certainly could have been tempted to ask for all kinds of things that would not have been helpful to him. Instead, he asked for wisdom.
Now he could have been partly driven to requesting this, because he was, in fact, young. He wasn’t even really supposed to be king. There were older sons of David who probably should have gone before him. However, his mother, Bethsheba had played her part, and there he was King now, King at a young age, and probably somewhat scared.
But be all that as it may, we hear today that Solomon did choose well by asking for Wisdom. And God blessed him for it. Today something close to 3,000 years later (give or take a few hundred years) we still remember Solomon for being wise.
We too, when we are young (and perhaps earlier than we realize that we are doing so) are asked to make some fairly fundamental decisions – what kind of career direction do we wish to take, who do we marry? And yes, these decisions definitely effect the rest of our lives.
So how do we do them well?
Well, for “whoever has ears, hear...” ;-). An attitude like Solomon’s is probably pretty good: BE HUMBLE and ASK GOD FOR HELP. It’s a lot better to have God on your side in those decisions than to ignore him and take the consequences afterwards.
But what then if we screwed up? What if we chose badly early in life, or chose badly up until this very moment? And all of us who've reached a certain age have made our mistakes in life.
Well the GOOD NEWS OF JESUS CHRIST IS -- QUITE HONESTLY -- THAT THE MISTAKES DON'T ULTIMATELY MATTER. We CAN change. We CAN always come back. That doesn’t mean that our past decisions have no consequences. They do. Guess what, most of us _won’t_ grow up to be President. (Probably none of us were called to be that anyway ... But even if we were, it doesn’t matter. God’s Will will be done in one way or another). AND we were NEVER CALLED TO BE "IMPORTANT" ANYWAY. We weren’t called to be famous. We weren’t called to be Great. We are simply called to be Good. (and let's face it, that's hard enough as it is ;-)
And we find in Scripture that "a little Goodness" on our part _goes a tremendously long way_. David, Solomon’s father, did one True "profession of faith." AS A TEENAGER, no more than about 14-15 years of age, when he was bringing some food to his older brothers “at the front,” he saw the giant Goliath taunting the Israelite army and the whole army (including David’s older brothers) quivering in fear before him. David, not being able to stand this, proclaimed _as a 14-15 year old_ that if no one else will volunteer to take Goliath’s challenge that he would (basically “if God is with us, who can be against us.”) AND FOR THIS SINGLE (perhaps even spontaneous) DECISION, GOD LOVED DAVID FOR THE REST OF HIS LIFE. HE FORGAVE DAVID EVERYTHING THAT HE DID IN LIFE AFTERWARDS (and he did fall/sin a lot ... note Bethsheba). But _none_ of David’s failings mattered to God. For _that one decision_, that ONE instant of faith when he was young, God forgave David _everything_ to the point that when Jesus came to this earth, one of the titles that he carried (mind you, GOD’s OWN SON) was “Son of David.” That is how much God loved David.
God also loved Solomon, to the point that we remember him even up to today as “wise.” In truth, though, after a lot of disappointments and long last, God _did_ tire of Solomon as well (as said of him in Scripture). Solomon did make repeated bad (unwise) decisions later in life (taking, many, many wives, being cruel, etc). And so after Solomon died, the Kingdom of Israel divided ...
However, the point is that God did _put up a lot_ with Solomon as well AND even though he didn't necessarily love Solomon in the end as much as he loved David, TO THIS DAY we remember Solomon for (again) making a _single good decision_ early in life. And we remember Solomon TO THIS DAY for "being wise" (even if later in life, he turned out to lose some of that luster and wisdom).
And lest we worry “Oh my, I made _a lot_ of _terrible_ decisions ‘early in life.’” well remember the Good Thief on the Cross. At the last moment in life, he made a _good decision_ and Jesus promised him “Even today, you will be in paradise.”
So it’s never, ever too late. But we do have to ask God to be with us, in the making of our decisions and then to help carry us through the hard times in life. Difficulty and struggle make-up a great part of all of our lives. Yet, how much easier it is, how much “lighter our burden is” if we have God at our side.
So let’s then make _that_ (God being at our side) _our_ “pearl of great price.” remembering that the rest ... won’t really matter anyway.
So let us ALL come to choose well. God bless you all.
July 17, 2011 - 16th Sun of OT - What a Parish can be
Readings - http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/071711.cfm
We find ourselves this month in the heart of Ordinary Time. And in the United States (and much of the world) this means that we find ourselves _in the middle of summer_. As such, the Readings we find during this time of year were probably chosen (by the those in the Church who’d be responsible for choosing these things – a Liturgy Commission at the Vatican) to be relatively simple.
Indeed, you will have probably noticed today, that the Gospel Reading was rather long (that’s why I had you sit down). And yet, despite its length, it offered three parables – about the Wheat and the Chaff, about the Mustard Seed and about the Woman adding Leaven to Bread.
Why? Well it could well be because in most of Europe it is hot, just like it is hot here in Chicago this time of year. And because it is hot (and until recently _there was no air conditioning_) the expectation was probably that the Gospel would be proclaimed and there probably wouldn’t be much of a homily. But since the Gospel was about 3 beloved parables _that most of the people would already know_, there probably wouldn’t be much need to add anything to them. And the people would still have something to reflect on during the week as they worked in the fields, or sat under the shade somewhere.
Since we _do have air conditioning_ here at Annunciata, I will, however, say a few words ;-):
First, it is clear that the Commission which prepared our Lectionary and hence picked the Gospel Reading for this Sunday wanted us to focus on the first parable of the three that we hear today – the one about the Wheat and the Chaff. I say this because the “shorter version” of this week’s Gospel contains ONLY this parable and the “longer version” which contains the other two short parables ends with the disciples asking for an explanation of the first parable again, which then Jesus provides. So there’s no escaping saying at least a few words about that first parable.
And the words could be this: Thankfully, it will be up to the Angels and God to “separate the wheat from the chaff,” that is, separate from the good people and the bad. And I do believe this to be GOOD NEWS because if it was left to us _I am positive_ we would mix the good with the bad. That is, while I’m sure all of us would feel completely certain in our ability to identify the people we’d like to send to Hell and proceed to try to send them there, I am also equally certain that there’d be plenty of people who’d probably want to send us there as well. So it is probably good that it’s _not_ up to us (but rather up to God) to determine who’ll go to Heaven and who goes to Hell. And indeed, as I say, that _could_ be the Good News in that parable.
But having then talked at least a little about that first parable, I’d like to focus on the second one, the one about the “Mustard Seed.”
I LIKE THIS PARABLE. It’s one of my favorites and it is so because it gives a beautiful example of what the Church is called to be and what a Parish, (_any_ parish) could come to be.
We’re told that a little mustard seed (symbolizing even a small amount of effort) can grow into a large shrub, and large enough so that “all the birds of the air” could find room to nest within it.
What a beautiful symbol for both the Church and a Parish! I say this because if we are honest, the Church has to be big enough for everybody, certainly big enough for _everybody of good will_. And even in a parish there is _always_ diversity.
In a parish like Annunciata, it would perhaps be both easiest (and most problematic) to talk about race. But really we are talking about more than that. There is a diversity in _any_ parish of not just ethnicity but age, need and sensibility. There families with dogs, there families with cats. There are families with big dogs, small dogs, lap dogs, hunting dogs, playful dogs, lazy dogs, and families with everything from "show dogs" ("dogs with papers") to "mutts." And the same thing could be said then about families with cats. What then of families with birds or lizards or gold fish? Then there are families of gardeners, scouts, athletes (Annunciata has a great athletic program), musicians, gamers, avid readers, hikers, accountants, etc. And this is all reflective of different sensibilities and personalities. And a parish ought to recognize these different gifts and look for ways to include them and put them to use.
And to a good extent we do that. Each year we probably see this best at Annunciata Fest where the hope is to bring in as many of the different people of the parish to celebrate it and offer the gifts that we have to the others.
And it is important that we do so, that we come to see the “Other” not as a “Stranger” or even as a "potential threat" but as someone who has gifts/talents to offer to others.
Again, I’m trying very hard here _not_ to hit directly the issue of Race or Ethnicity (but certainly we can see that it can apply here). We all have a lot to offer each other even as we do have differing sensibilities. And it’s really _our choice_ as to how we _choose_ to respond to difference / the diversity among us. We can _choose_ to make it a problem or we can see it as a gift -- an opportunity of inviting a "new birds" (and younger birds) "to nest among our branches."
Because ultimately we are all -- the young, the old, dog people or cat people, gardeners, artists or athletes -- children of the same God.
Those who have ears, ought to hear ;-). God bless, and have a nice nice week ahead!
We find ourselves this month in the heart of Ordinary Time. And in the United States (and much of the world) this means that we find ourselves _in the middle of summer_. As such, the Readings we find during this time of year were probably chosen (by the those in the Church who’d be responsible for choosing these things – a Liturgy Commission at the Vatican) to be relatively simple.
Indeed, you will have probably noticed today, that the Gospel Reading was rather long (that’s why I had you sit down). And yet, despite its length, it offered three parables – about the Wheat and the Chaff, about the Mustard Seed and about the Woman adding Leaven to Bread.
Why? Well it could well be because in most of Europe it is hot, just like it is hot here in Chicago this time of year. And because it is hot (and until recently _there was no air conditioning_) the expectation was probably that the Gospel would be proclaimed and there probably wouldn’t be much of a homily. But since the Gospel was about 3 beloved parables _that most of the people would already know_, there probably wouldn’t be much need to add anything to them. And the people would still have something to reflect on during the week as they worked in the fields, or sat under the shade somewhere.
Since we _do have air conditioning_ here at Annunciata, I will, however, say a few words ;-):
First, it is clear that the Commission which prepared our Lectionary and hence picked the Gospel Reading for this Sunday wanted us to focus on the first parable of the three that we hear today – the one about the Wheat and the Chaff. I say this because the “shorter version” of this week’s Gospel contains ONLY this parable and the “longer version” which contains the other two short parables ends with the disciples asking for an explanation of the first parable again, which then Jesus provides. So there’s no escaping saying at least a few words about that first parable.
And the words could be this: Thankfully, it will be up to the Angels and God to “separate the wheat from the chaff,” that is, separate from the good people and the bad. And I do believe this to be GOOD NEWS because if it was left to us _I am positive_ we would mix the good with the bad. That is, while I’m sure all of us would feel completely certain in our ability to identify the people we’d like to send to Hell and proceed to try to send them there, I am also equally certain that there’d be plenty of people who’d probably want to send us there as well. So it is probably good that it’s _not_ up to us (but rather up to God) to determine who’ll go to Heaven and who goes to Hell. And indeed, as I say, that _could_ be the Good News in that parable.
But having then talked at least a little about that first parable, I’d like to focus on the second one, the one about the “Mustard Seed.”
I LIKE THIS PARABLE. It’s one of my favorites and it is so because it gives a beautiful example of what the Church is called to be and what a Parish, (_any_ parish) could come to be.
We’re told that a little mustard seed (symbolizing even a small amount of effort) can grow into a large shrub, and large enough so that “all the birds of the air” could find room to nest within it.
What a beautiful symbol for both the Church and a Parish! I say this because if we are honest, the Church has to be big enough for everybody, certainly big enough for _everybody of good will_. And even in a parish there is _always_ diversity.
In a parish like Annunciata, it would perhaps be both easiest (and most problematic) to talk about race. But really we are talking about more than that. There is a diversity in _any_ parish of not just ethnicity but age, need and sensibility. There families with dogs, there families with cats. There are families with big dogs, small dogs, lap dogs, hunting dogs, playful dogs, lazy dogs, and families with everything from "show dogs" ("dogs with papers") to "mutts." And the same thing could be said then about families with cats. What then of families with birds or lizards or gold fish? Then there are families of gardeners, scouts, athletes (Annunciata has a great athletic program), musicians, gamers, avid readers, hikers, accountants, etc. And this is all reflective of different sensibilities and personalities. And a parish ought to recognize these different gifts and look for ways to include them and put them to use.
And to a good extent we do that. Each year we probably see this best at Annunciata Fest where the hope is to bring in as many of the different people of the parish to celebrate it and offer the gifts that we have to the others.
And it is important that we do so, that we come to see the “Other” not as a “Stranger” or even as a "potential threat" but as someone who has gifts/talents to offer to others.
Again, I’m trying very hard here _not_ to hit directly the issue of Race or Ethnicity (but certainly we can see that it can apply here). We all have a lot to offer each other even as we do have differing sensibilities. And it’s really _our choice_ as to how we _choose_ to respond to difference / the diversity among us. We can _choose_ to make it a problem or we can see it as a gift -- an opportunity of inviting a "new birds" (and younger birds) "to nest among our branches."
Because ultimately we are all -- the young, the old, dog people or cat people, gardeners, artists or athletes -- children of the same God.
Those who have ears, ought to hear ;-). God bless, and have a nice nice week ahead!
July 10, 2011 - 15th Sun of OT - We don’t have to succeed but we’re called to try ...
Readings - http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/071011.cfm
This Sunday, in the heart of Ordinary Time, we begin a three week period in which we hear for the Gospel Reading a number of very well known parables. And so, today, we start with one of the most famous ones, the Parable of the Sower and the Seed.
Pretty much all of us know this parable and know it quite well. Yet each time we hear it, we hear it in a different way.
We hear it today in the midst of our summer and perhaps we can see it then _as an invitation_ to reflect on it comfortably, indeed happily and _with ease_ as we sip our iced-teas (or Long Island iced teas) wondering what Jesus is telling us in the midst of all those seeds.
Let me offer some thoughts:
First, Jesus seems to be telling us that he (and therefore God) _knows_ that _only some of the seed is going to fall on good ground_. He says that some seed is going to fall on the path, some on rocky soil, and some among thorns and finally only some seed is going to fall on good soil.
But in fulfillment of that beautiful first reading from Isaiah, it would seem that Jesus (and therefore God) is counting on the seed that falls on good ground to more than make-up for the rest (yielding 10, 30 and a 100 fold) so that “not a single drop of water that falls down from heaven would return to it without having fulfilled its purpose.”
So there’s both _a lot_ of responsibility placed on the seed that falls on good ground, and actually a certain amount of _acceptance/forgiveness_ extended to the seed that “doesn’t make it.”
Most of us probably fall in “mixed ground.” There are aspects of it that is probably pretty good. But there are certainly rocks and thorns present to most of us as well.
Will we make it? Will we yield 10, 30, 100 fold? This could be a rather scary question, especially if we realize that the ground on which we have fallen is probably rather mixed.
What the first Reading and the Gospel Reading assure us, however, is that God’s will, God's plan _will be fulfilled regardless_, and _our task_ is simply to seek to grow and _try_ to produce fruit. Whether we succeed or not _is up to God_ and where we happened to fall. But _all of us_ have the ability to try.
So, "whoever has ears, ought to hear" ;-). And have a nice week ;-)
This Sunday, in the heart of Ordinary Time, we begin a three week period in which we hear for the Gospel Reading a number of very well known parables. And so, today, we start with one of the most famous ones, the Parable of the Sower and the Seed.
Pretty much all of us know this parable and know it quite well. Yet each time we hear it, we hear it in a different way.
We hear it today in the midst of our summer and perhaps we can see it then _as an invitation_ to reflect on it comfortably, indeed happily and _with ease_ as we sip our iced-teas (or Long Island iced teas) wondering what Jesus is telling us in the midst of all those seeds.
Let me offer some thoughts:
First, Jesus seems to be telling us that he (and therefore God) _knows_ that _only some of the seed is going to fall on good ground_. He says that some seed is going to fall on the path, some on rocky soil, and some among thorns and finally only some seed is going to fall on good soil.
But in fulfillment of that beautiful first reading from Isaiah, it would seem that Jesus (and therefore God) is counting on the seed that falls on good ground to more than make-up for the rest (yielding 10, 30 and a 100 fold) so that “not a single drop of water that falls down from heaven would return to it without having fulfilled its purpose.”
So there’s both _a lot_ of responsibility placed on the seed that falls on good ground, and actually a certain amount of _acceptance/forgiveness_ extended to the seed that “doesn’t make it.”
Most of us probably fall in “mixed ground.” There are aspects of it that is probably pretty good. But there are certainly rocks and thorns present to most of us as well.
Will we make it? Will we yield 10, 30, 100 fold? This could be a rather scary question, especially if we realize that the ground on which we have fallen is probably rather mixed.
What the first Reading and the Gospel Reading assure us, however, is that God’s will, God's plan _will be fulfilled regardless_, and _our task_ is simply to seek to grow and _try_ to produce fruit. Whether we succeed or not _is up to God_ and where we happened to fall. But _all of us_ have the ability to try.
So, "whoever has ears, ought to hear" ;-). And have a nice week ;-)
July 3, 2011 - 14th Sun of OT - What God asks of us is not that hard
[Note to Readers: I know that I have been neglecting this blog for some time but I’ve not been neglecting it intentionally. It’s just that homilies are “organic things.”
Homilies do often depend on the particular audience to which they are preached. And often enough, I preach three times (and in three languages in English and Spanish at Annunciata and twice a month in Czech for a Slovakian community at St. Simon the Apostle in Marquette Park) on a given Sunday. Even when preaching multiple times in English, the assembly can be different, and things can (and surprisingly often do) in the 15-30 minutes before Mass that can effect the direction of a given homily. What one may have wanted to say may not be fit the circumstances in which one finds oneself. And so one does (hopefully) change direction.
That being said, as I reflected today on the the past Sundays, it did occur to me that it’s been a rather interesting summer in terms of the Sunday Readings (Ordinary Time / Summer though it may be) and so I decided to “try to catch” up a bit.
There will still be a gap from the feast of the Ascension to the beginning of July. But the last 5-6 weeks will be present here because I do believe that they have come to make for a fairly nice unit :-) ...]
To then, let us go back and begin here with the Homily for July 3, 2011 -
Readings - http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/070311.cfm
We find ourselves in the midst of Ordinary Time, and here in the United States along with ½ the world in the midst of summer, hence for many of us vacation season.
And it’s generally hot doing this time of year in the United States and in Europe (Rome, where the Church has been centered). So the readings during this time of year are “light.” They are not meant to overburden us (or overburden the preacher for that matter ;-). Instead, they are meant to be easy-going invitations to us to reflect on God’s presence in our lives and hopefully to find that God really is present to us.
So we hear today some nice, happy, summer readings.
In the 1st Reading we hear from the Prophet Zachariah a prophesy often evoking the image of Mary running to her aunt Elizabeth after the Annunciation or Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. But it could apply to us. “Rejoice heartily O daughter Zion because your king will come to you!” It’s a promise that God will come to us, and he’ll come to us in a way that we’d understand. (The imagery in fact is like that of a children’s story with kings, and ramparts and cities on a hill and all that).
In the Gospel Reading we hear Jesus thanking God (the Father) that it has been his will to reveal himself in the simplest terms to the child-like. Jesus goes on to tell us “Come to me, you who are burdened and I will give you rest, for my yoke is easy and my burden light.”
Together with the first reading, the Gospel Reading makes for a lovely introduction to the Readings that we’ll be hearing over the next several weeks – parables mostly about wheat, chaff, pearls and so forth – a reminder that what we need to know of God is actually very simple and designed for a mere child to grasp.
Here, I wish to note that this Gospel Reading is one of those that the Church offers for funerals, and that it is one of the most common one’s chosen for that purpose, and that it has become one of my favorties in the Gospels.
Why? This Reading reminds us that after all is said and done, what God asks of us is very little – his yoke really is easy and his burden light. For in the end, I remember people at funerals, God asks of us that during our lives we learn to love one another (which means that we learn to put up with one another) and that we learn to put our faith in God. THE REST DOESN’T MATTER.
I tell people over and over again, that God is not going to care if we became famous in this world, whether we became important, whether people quaked at our feet, whether we made “employee of the month” three times in a row (or five times in a row) or whether we "placed high" (or even won) a beauty contest. God’s just going to care about what I said above – whether we learned to love one aother (which means that we’ve learned to put up with one another) and that we put our faith in God.
And that’s good, because, my dozen or so years as a priest, I’ve buried something like 200 people. And NONE of them were famous. None of them were “important” (though I came close once at my previous parish when a Osceola County Commissioner died. I was who was able to do the last rites, but alas someone else did the funeral ... Doesn’t matter. It happily just _proves the rule_). Nobody that I’ve buried has been "important." HOWEVER, a good number of people that I’ve buried seemed to be authentically good people -- who put kids and family first, worked hard, stayed out of trouble, and yes, a fair number of them did actually go _regularly to Mass_.
And that’s nice because I think I can pretty much say this honestly that 100 years from now the vast majority of us here will have been completely forgotten by the world. Probably none of us will be “President” (and even if one did become President, what about the rest of us?) and probably none of us will be worth even a “wikipedia entry” a 100 years from now ;-). Our friends will be dead. On a family tree, we’ll be but a name.
Who will remember us, will not be our boss (he’ll be dead too). Instead, the only one who will remember us (we hope) is God. The rest utterly won’t matter.
But the Good News in this is that Jesus reminds us today that God, who created us to be happy, really, really doesn’t ask much of us at all., Instead he tells us that his yoke is easy and his burden light.
So then, as we approach this _month of ease_ ahead of us, _let us put aside things that don’t matter_, and give thanks for having a God who created us, loves us and will continue to love us regardless of how “important” (or more to the point, how _unimportant_) we may seem to the world, remembering that God just wants us to be happy both here ... and in our destiny which awaits us in heaven. Amen.
Homilies do often depend on the particular audience to which they are preached. And often enough, I preach three times (and in three languages in English and Spanish at Annunciata and twice a month in Czech for a Slovakian community at St. Simon the Apostle in Marquette Park) on a given Sunday. Even when preaching multiple times in English, the assembly can be different, and things can (and surprisingly often do) in the 15-30 minutes before Mass that can effect the direction of a given homily. What one may have wanted to say may not be fit the circumstances in which one finds oneself. And so one does (hopefully) change direction.
That being said, as I reflected today on the the past Sundays, it did occur to me that it’s been a rather interesting summer in terms of the Sunday Readings (Ordinary Time / Summer though it may be) and so I decided to “try to catch” up a bit.
There will still be a gap from the feast of the Ascension to the beginning of July. But the last 5-6 weeks will be present here because I do believe that they have come to make for a fairly nice unit :-) ...]
To then, let us go back and begin here with the Homily for July 3, 2011 -
Readings - http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/070311.cfm
We find ourselves in the midst of Ordinary Time, and here in the United States along with ½ the world in the midst of summer, hence for many of us vacation season.
And it’s generally hot doing this time of year in the United States and in Europe (Rome, where the Church has been centered). So the readings during this time of year are “light.” They are not meant to overburden us (or overburden the preacher for that matter ;-). Instead, they are meant to be easy-going invitations to us to reflect on God’s presence in our lives and hopefully to find that God really is present to us.
So we hear today some nice, happy, summer readings.
In the 1st Reading we hear from the Prophet Zachariah a prophesy often evoking the image of Mary running to her aunt Elizabeth after the Annunciation or Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. But it could apply to us. “Rejoice heartily O daughter Zion because your king will come to you!” It’s a promise that God will come to us, and he’ll come to us in a way that we’d understand. (The imagery in fact is like that of a children’s story with kings, and ramparts and cities on a hill and all that).
In the Gospel Reading we hear Jesus thanking God (the Father) that it has been his will to reveal himself in the simplest terms to the child-like. Jesus goes on to tell us “Come to me, you who are burdened and I will give you rest, for my yoke is easy and my burden light.”
Together with the first reading, the Gospel Reading makes for a lovely introduction to the Readings that we’ll be hearing over the next several weeks – parables mostly about wheat, chaff, pearls and so forth – a reminder that what we need to know of God is actually very simple and designed for a mere child to grasp.
Here, I wish to note that this Gospel Reading is one of those that the Church offers for funerals, and that it is one of the most common one’s chosen for that purpose, and that it has become one of my favorties in the Gospels.
Why? This Reading reminds us that after all is said and done, what God asks of us is very little – his yoke really is easy and his burden light. For in the end, I remember people at funerals, God asks of us that during our lives we learn to love one another (which means that we learn to put up with one another) and that we learn to put our faith in God. THE REST DOESN’T MATTER.
I tell people over and over again, that God is not going to care if we became famous in this world, whether we became important, whether people quaked at our feet, whether we made “employee of the month” three times in a row (or five times in a row) or whether we "placed high" (or even won) a beauty contest. God’s just going to care about what I said above – whether we learned to love one aother (which means that we’ve learned to put up with one another) and that we put our faith in God.
And that’s good, because, my dozen or so years as a priest, I’ve buried something like 200 people. And NONE of them were famous. None of them were “important” (though I came close once at my previous parish when a Osceola County Commissioner died. I was who was able to do the last rites, but alas someone else did the funeral ... Doesn’t matter. It happily just _proves the rule_). Nobody that I’ve buried has been "important." HOWEVER, a good number of people that I’ve buried seemed to be authentically good people -- who put kids and family first, worked hard, stayed out of trouble, and yes, a fair number of them did actually go _regularly to Mass_.
And that’s nice because I think I can pretty much say this honestly that 100 years from now the vast majority of us here will have been completely forgotten by the world. Probably none of us will be “President” (and even if one did become President, what about the rest of us?) and probably none of us will be worth even a “wikipedia entry” a 100 years from now ;-). Our friends will be dead. On a family tree, we’ll be but a name.
Who will remember us, will not be our boss (he’ll be dead too). Instead, the only one who will remember us (we hope) is God. The rest utterly won’t matter.
But the Good News in this is that Jesus reminds us today that God, who created us to be happy, really, really doesn’t ask much of us at all., Instead he tells us that his yoke is easy and his burden light.
So then, as we approach this _month of ease_ ahead of us, _let us put aside things that don’t matter_, and give thanks for having a God who created us, loves us and will continue to love us regardless of how “important” (or more to the point, how _unimportant_) we may seem to the world, remembering that God just wants us to be happy both here ... and in our destiny which awaits us in heaven. Amen.
Monday, June 6, 2011
June 5, 2011 - Ascension Sunday - A God Truly Above us All, who also Loves us All
Readings -http://www.usccb.org/nab/060511a.shtml
Today we find ourselves celebrating the Feast of the Ascension (of our Lord). This feast, traditionally celebrated 40 days after Easter Sunday now often moved to the Sunday following, is rather unique Sunday/Feast Day in the Church’s liturgical calendar.
I say this because the Readings for this Feast force up to “look up” (toward the heavens) in a way that we usually don’t have to. During most of the Liturgical Year we focus on Jesus here on Earth. During the Christmas Season, we remember his birth, his growing up among us. Then during Ordinary Time (and even during Lent) we usually focus on Jesus’ teaching of his disciples. We hear Jesus talking about sheep and shepherds, grains of wheat, mustard seeds, all “down to earth” concepts that remind us that Jesus was here among us. Yet today we celebrate Jesus’ “Ascension into Heaven.”
This in our times poses its own problems. At the time of Jesus, when the Bible/New Testament was written, people everywhere basically understood the world / universe existing in three levels:
* The Dead lived in the Basement (and the really bad somewhere "below" the basement where they were punished)
* We, the living lived on the ground floor, on earth as it were, and
* the Angels and God lived on the floor/floors “above.”
I give the Biblical conception of the world here (Jewish and Christian of the time) but this was basically true across all cultures. The Gods and other heavenly beings lived somewhere “above us.”
Today, that conception is harder to use as we know through telescopes and spaceships that the Cosmos is REALLY, REALLY LARGE. So talking of God being “above us” is something of a problem. Yet, here it must be noted that (1) All traditional cultures, everywhere believed that “the Gods” lived above us and occasionally visited us “from above,” so one would suspect that there must be _something_ to it, and (2) with some tweaking, we can “save/redeem” this image. Many science fiction writers, Star Trek, the last Indiana Jones movie, etc, now postulate that perhaps beings live “in other dimensions” and so perhaps what seemed “up” or “down” to the ancients simply meant ‘to/from somewhere else’ which we do not really know how to describe.
***
Ok, of God living “somewhere above” initially may be somewhat initially difficult to talk about. Yet, the metaphor becomes useful to use in another regard. That is, in pretty much _every society_ the people who lived in the tallest buildings were the most powerful (the most ‘godlike’). This again, was true across the whole of civilizations:
The pharoahs (who considered themselves God-Kings) constructed pyramids, the tallest structures in ancient Egypt
The Mayas and Aztecs also constructed pyramids, the Babylonians ziggurats (sort of like pyramids) almost always with a Temple (to the Gods) at the top of the pyramids/ziggurats.
Then pretty much up until the turn of the 20th century, the tallest building in any town in the Christian world was a Church. Occasionally, kings tried to do the same. William the Conqueror constructed the Tower of London, which was the seat of the English king for some time and it was pretty tall (called a “tower” after all). But pretty much up until the 20th Century, the tallest buildings throughout the whole of the Chirstian world were Churches.
That changed in the late 19th Century and the early 20th Century with the advent of skyscrapers. But it only gave support to the metaphor because these buildings began to be built at a time when the influence of the Church/Christianity and religion began an obvious decline.
When my mother first arrived in Chicago in the 1950s, the tallest buildings in Chicago were The Wrigley and Tribune Buildings. Who did they house? The Chicago Tribune (newspaper journalists) and WGN (radio/later TV). In Los Angeles in the 1950s the tallest building, by far, was the City Hall (People here would remember it was shown often in the first “Dragne” crime drama programs on TV at the time). And yes, in the first half of the century, it could be said that Government and The Press were the most powerful institutions in this country.
Who owns/operates out of the tallest buildings today? Isn’t it obvious – Banks (the Sears, now Willis Tower), Insurance Companies (John Hancock Building/Prudential Buildings), Oil Companies (when I was in high school it was called the Standard Oil Building, when I returned 9 years ago, it was called the Amoco Building, now it’s called the BMX building because British Petroleum now owns Amoco and its building). And this is true not just in Chicago but pretty much across the globe. The tallest buildings are owned by the Financial Services companies and/or the Oil industry.
And the metaphor extends even further in these recent years. It is commonly accepted that the current financial crisis that we have been experiencing over the last years was caused by the financial services industry. Its heads and top workers worked in high rises in lower Manhattan and lived in other high rises on Manhattan’s east side – these people both lived and worked “above us.
Even worse these “little gods” “living and working above us” CAME TO BET ON US IN A WAY THAT’S ALMOST REMINISCENT OF HOW THE GREEKS HAD IMAGINED THEIR “GODS” AS ACTING – In the Trojan War, there were two sets of Gods, one aligned with the Greeks, the other aligned with the Trojans and they were observing and betting on the outcomes of the battles below.
In the modern version, in practices which most analysts have said was the principal cause of the current financial crisis, these bankers were both giving loans to little people and then betting against them being able to pay them off. They were turning our lives into a game, into a casino where sitting always above us, they got to bet on or against us.
The image therefore of a GOD WHO LIVES ABOVE US ALL, is therefore arguably a comforting one, reminding all of us (even the bankers, people with power) that we are both ALL GOD’S CHILDREN (all fundamentally equal to each other) and that ALL of us, big and small will have to give accounting of our lives to the same God.
***
This then leads us to the last point that I wish to make about the feast of the Ascension. And that is, that it reminds us that God actually has an enormous confidence in us as a race. In the first Chapter of Genesis, we are told that we were created, all of us, in God’s image and that we were put in this world, on this planet to take care of it, to live on it, to find our happiness here. God did not wish to interfere in this process. We’re told in the second and third chapters of Genesis that our first parents screwed-up, messed this up.
The rest of the Bible from that point, in fact, up until this point Jesus’ Ascension (and next Sunday, when we celebrate Pentecost, when we celebrate the Church’s reception of the Holy Spirit) was about God’s _slow_ carefully calibrated plan to put things “back on track” AND as soon as Jesus was able to do so (after Easter) _he headed back home_. Yes, once more we remember that THIS TIME, God left us “the Holy Spirit” to _help us_ make the tough decisions to keep on track. But the message is clear: IN OUR FAITH we are told that we have a God who (1) is above us all, that is, Truly God greater than all the “little gods” that pretend to walk this earth, but also (2) that this True God both loves us and has arguably more confidence in us than we have in ourselves. We have a God who DOESN’T want to be a “micromanager” who ISN’T like the God that most of us of my age and above still grew-up with – one in which God was like an “evil Santa Claus” who looked down at us with binoculars to take note of all our sins and failings. Instead, we’re given a God who has enormous confidence in us, one who, yes, has given us Rules and even that Holy Spirit to guide us, but who really _prefers_ that _we_ run things here (reasonably well) on our own, and assuring us, above all, that He does love us all.
***
So then, that’s what we celebrate on this Day, a God who is Truly God, Creator and Master of the Universe _above us all_, but then also a God who has enormous confidence in us and wishes to simply run this world well, to find friends and happiness here, assuring us that as his Children, God loves us all.
What then a Great (and kind) God we have! Amen.
Today we find ourselves celebrating the Feast of the Ascension (of our Lord). This feast, traditionally celebrated 40 days after Easter Sunday now often moved to the Sunday following, is rather unique Sunday/Feast Day in the Church’s liturgical calendar.
I say this because the Readings for this Feast force up to “look up” (toward the heavens) in a way that we usually don’t have to. During most of the Liturgical Year we focus on Jesus here on Earth. During the Christmas Season, we remember his birth, his growing up among us. Then during Ordinary Time (and even during Lent) we usually focus on Jesus’ teaching of his disciples. We hear Jesus talking about sheep and shepherds, grains of wheat, mustard seeds, all “down to earth” concepts that remind us that Jesus was here among us. Yet today we celebrate Jesus’ “Ascension into Heaven.”
This in our times poses its own problems. At the time of Jesus, when the Bible/New Testament was written, people everywhere basically understood the world / universe existing in three levels:
* The Dead lived in the Basement (and the really bad somewhere "below" the basement where they were punished)
* We, the living lived on the ground floor, on earth as it were, and
* the Angels and God lived on the floor/floors “above.”
I give the Biblical conception of the world here (Jewish and Christian of the time) but this was basically true across all cultures. The Gods and other heavenly beings lived somewhere “above us.”
Today, that conception is harder to use as we know through telescopes and spaceships that the Cosmos is REALLY, REALLY LARGE. So talking of God being “above us” is something of a problem. Yet, here it must be noted that (1) All traditional cultures, everywhere believed that “the Gods” lived above us and occasionally visited us “from above,” so one would suspect that there must be _something_ to it, and (2) with some tweaking, we can “save/redeem” this image. Many science fiction writers, Star Trek, the last Indiana Jones movie, etc, now postulate that perhaps beings live “in other dimensions” and so perhaps what seemed “up” or “down” to the ancients simply meant ‘to/from somewhere else’ which we do not really know how to describe.
***
Ok, of God living “somewhere above” initially may be somewhat initially difficult to talk about. Yet, the metaphor becomes useful to use in another regard. That is, in pretty much _every society_ the people who lived in the tallest buildings were the most powerful (the most ‘godlike’). This again, was true across the whole of civilizations:
The pharoahs (who considered themselves God-Kings) constructed pyramids, the tallest structures in ancient Egypt
The Mayas and Aztecs also constructed pyramids, the Babylonians ziggurats (sort of like pyramids) almost always with a Temple (to the Gods) at the top of the pyramids/ziggurats.
Then pretty much up until the turn of the 20th century, the tallest building in any town in the Christian world was a Church. Occasionally, kings tried to do the same. William the Conqueror constructed the Tower of London, which was the seat of the English king for some time and it was pretty tall (called a “tower” after all). But pretty much up until the 20th Century, the tallest buildings throughout the whole of the Chirstian world were Churches.
That changed in the late 19th Century and the early 20th Century with the advent of skyscrapers. But it only gave support to the metaphor because these buildings began to be built at a time when the influence of the Church/Christianity and religion began an obvious decline.
When my mother first arrived in Chicago in the 1950s, the tallest buildings in Chicago were The Wrigley and Tribune Buildings. Who did they house? The Chicago Tribune (newspaper journalists) and WGN (radio/later TV). In Los Angeles in the 1950s the tallest building, by far, was the City Hall (People here would remember it was shown often in the first “Dragne” crime drama programs on TV at the time). And yes, in the first half of the century, it could be said that Government and The Press were the most powerful institutions in this country.
Who owns/operates out of the tallest buildings today? Isn’t it obvious – Banks (the Sears, now Willis Tower), Insurance Companies (John Hancock Building/Prudential Buildings), Oil Companies (when I was in high school it was called the Standard Oil Building, when I returned 9 years ago, it was called the Amoco Building, now it’s called the BMX building because British Petroleum now owns Amoco and its building). And this is true not just in Chicago but pretty much across the globe. The tallest buildings are owned by the Financial Services companies and/or the Oil industry.
And the metaphor extends even further in these recent years. It is commonly accepted that the current financial crisis that we have been experiencing over the last years was caused by the financial services industry. Its heads and top workers worked in high rises in lower Manhattan and lived in other high rises on Manhattan’s east side – these people both lived and worked “above us.
Even worse these “little gods” “living and working above us” CAME TO BET ON US IN A WAY THAT’S ALMOST REMINISCENT OF HOW THE GREEKS HAD IMAGINED THEIR “GODS” AS ACTING – In the Trojan War, there were two sets of Gods, one aligned with the Greeks, the other aligned with the Trojans and they were observing and betting on the outcomes of the battles below.
In the modern version, in practices which most analysts have said was the principal cause of the current financial crisis, these bankers were both giving loans to little people and then betting against them being able to pay them off. They were turning our lives into a game, into a casino where sitting always above us, they got to bet on or against us.
The image therefore of a GOD WHO LIVES ABOVE US ALL, is therefore arguably a comforting one, reminding all of us (even the bankers, people with power) that we are both ALL GOD’S CHILDREN (all fundamentally equal to each other) and that ALL of us, big and small will have to give accounting of our lives to the same God.
***
This then leads us to the last point that I wish to make about the feast of the Ascension. And that is, that it reminds us that God actually has an enormous confidence in us as a race. In the first Chapter of Genesis, we are told that we were created, all of us, in God’s image and that we were put in this world, on this planet to take care of it, to live on it, to find our happiness here. God did not wish to interfere in this process. We’re told in the second and third chapters of Genesis that our first parents screwed-up, messed this up.
The rest of the Bible from that point, in fact, up until this point Jesus’ Ascension (and next Sunday, when we celebrate Pentecost, when we celebrate the Church’s reception of the Holy Spirit) was about God’s _slow_ carefully calibrated plan to put things “back on track” AND as soon as Jesus was able to do so (after Easter) _he headed back home_. Yes, once more we remember that THIS TIME, God left us “the Holy Spirit” to _help us_ make the tough decisions to keep on track. But the message is clear: IN OUR FAITH we are told that we have a God who (1) is above us all, that is, Truly God greater than all the “little gods” that pretend to walk this earth, but also (2) that this True God both loves us and has arguably more confidence in us than we have in ourselves. We have a God who DOESN’T want to be a “micromanager” who ISN’T like the God that most of us of my age and above still grew-up with – one in which God was like an “evil Santa Claus” who looked down at us with binoculars to take note of all our sins and failings. Instead, we’re given a God who has enormous confidence in us, one who, yes, has given us Rules and even that Holy Spirit to guide us, but who really _prefers_ that _we_ run things here (reasonably well) on our own, and assuring us, above all, that He does love us all.
***
So then, that’s what we celebrate on this Day, a God who is Truly God, Creator and Master of the Universe _above us all_, but then also a God who has enormous confidence in us and wishes to simply run this world well, to find friends and happiness here, assuring us that as his Children, God loves us all.
What then a Great (and kind) God we have! Amen.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
April 24, 2011 - Easter Sunday - Not even Death has the final word, it belongs to God ...
After 40 days of Lent preparing, after celebrating all of Holy Week including the final three days of the Triduum, we come today to this day, Easter Sunday.
And it’s good that on this day, the Churches are generally packed because what we remember on this day is really the foundation of our faith. For today we remember and proclaim Jesus’ Ressurrection.
The other days, especially during the Christmas Season, then the days during Lent and Holy Week are important. But it all comes down to this day.
And we’re told in the Gospel Readings that we hear today and during the whole of the Octave of Easter which now follows, that the Disciples themselves had difficulty believing it. Yet there was Jesus, risen from the dead, assuring us that even Death does not have the Final Word.
Why did it have to be so complicated? Why did it have to take so long? If you were here for the Easter Vigil, last night, you would have heard Reading after beautiful Reading, how long it took from the Fall soon after Creation, through the calling of Abraham, the Exodus, the Prophets up until the time of Jesus. And yet it seemed to have to be this way -- and we remember it in a way that every kid who’s ever put a cloth over his head to act as a shepherd in a Christian play would remember it – so that we would both believe and remember it all of our lives.
We don’t necessarily need the hope of the Resurrection every day, but there are times when we do need it. And so it is good that we learn to remember it in the way that we hear it proclaimed today. It was confusing, it was dramatic, and the first disciples eventually came to believe it, experience it to be true. Our faith lives may be the same at times as well.
But let us give thanks to God and our parents/grandparents or whoever gave us our faith that we’ve received it. Because with it we can now pass through anything, console anyone and look toward a future that does not end in death or failure but ends with God.
So let us give thanks for that and let us bring this message that not even the Death is the End to those who need this hope now. God is with us, God is always with us, and may we never fear what is in front of us, because in the end, we will be with a God who loves us, forever.
Happy Easter to you all!
And it’s good that on this day, the Churches are generally packed because what we remember on this day is really the foundation of our faith. For today we remember and proclaim Jesus’ Ressurrection.
The other days, especially during the Christmas Season, then the days during Lent and Holy Week are important. But it all comes down to this day.
And we’re told in the Gospel Readings that we hear today and during the whole of the Octave of Easter which now follows, that the Disciples themselves had difficulty believing it. Yet there was Jesus, risen from the dead, assuring us that even Death does not have the Final Word.
Why did it have to be so complicated? Why did it have to take so long? If you were here for the Easter Vigil, last night, you would have heard Reading after beautiful Reading, how long it took from the Fall soon after Creation, through the calling of Abraham, the Exodus, the Prophets up until the time of Jesus. And yet it seemed to have to be this way -- and we remember it in a way that every kid who’s ever put a cloth over his head to act as a shepherd in a Christian play would remember it – so that we would both believe and remember it all of our lives.
We don’t necessarily need the hope of the Resurrection every day, but there are times when we do need it. And so it is good that we learn to remember it in the way that we hear it proclaimed today. It was confusing, it was dramatic, and the first disciples eventually came to believe it, experience it to be true. Our faith lives may be the same at times as well.
But let us give thanks to God and our parents/grandparents or whoever gave us our faith that we’ve received it. Because with it we can now pass through anything, console anyone and look toward a future that does not end in death or failure but ends with God.
So let us give thanks for that and let us bring this message that not even the Death is the End to those who need this hope now. God is with us, God is always with us, and may we never fear what is in front of us, because in the end, we will be with a God who loves us, forever.
Happy Easter to you all!
Friday, April 22, 2011
April 22, 2011 - Good Friday - God's Love for Us
Readings - http://www.usccb.org/nab/042211.shtml
Today we are celebrating the second day of the Triduum in which recall the Passion and Death of our Lord Jesus Christ. And every year we approach these days differently. Each year, we arrive at this celebration, this commemoration a year older and hopefully a year more mature. And perhaps because this year today, Good Friday, was so dark - it started raining at noon and continued until about three - it seemed that even Heaven and Earth were weeping on this day, this year, here in Chicago. ...
Okay, how does this day, Good Friday, strike me this year? Perhaps what impressed me most this year was the reading we read the end of the Via Crucis in Spanish that we celebrated here each Friday evening during Lent.
Then we would here a passage from St. Paul's Letter to the Romans in which Paul pointed out that there are only few people would be willing to give their lives for someone else, but if it involved someone "good" perhaps one could find people who’d be willing to sacrifice their lives for that person. But St. Paul noted that Christ showed of his love for all of us by giving his life for us, even though we didn’t deserve it, even though we were still sinners, still weakened by sin. And this really struck me this year.
When Jesus came here, became incarnate, became one of us, and then walked with us, we believe that he did so to show us that God is concerned about us and wants be part of our lives. Today on this day when we remember Jesus' Death on the Cross, we remember just how much Jesus loved us, just how far he’d go to continue to accompany us ... up until our own death, AND HE DID THIS EVEN THOUGH WE DIDN’T / DON’T DESERVE THIS, didn’t/don’t deserve such kindness or support.
But that is exactly what we remember today, God’s love for us, and His to accompany us even when we don’t deserve it, even when we’d perhaps prefer to be alone in our sadness or difficulty. And we are invited to respond to this kindness.
So this let us _give thanks_ to God who came here to look for us, and who after finding us wants to walk with us throughout our whole lives -- in good times and in bad – and even when perhaps we don’t we don’t even want him to.
Why does God do this? He does this because he loves us. We are his children and he wants to be part of our lives so that we can be part of His life, and be part of it forever.
So especially on this day, when we remember Jesus’ death for us, let us give thanks to a God who loves us so much. Amen.
Today we are celebrating the second day of the Triduum in which recall the Passion and Death of our Lord Jesus Christ. And every year we approach these days differently. Each year, we arrive at this celebration, this commemoration a year older and hopefully a year more mature. And perhaps because this year today, Good Friday, was so dark - it started raining at noon and continued until about three - it seemed that even Heaven and Earth were weeping on this day, this year, here in Chicago. ...
Okay, how does this day, Good Friday, strike me this year? Perhaps what impressed me most this year was the reading we read the end of the Via Crucis in Spanish that we celebrated here each Friday evening during Lent.
Then we would here a passage from St. Paul's Letter to the Romans in which Paul pointed out that there are only few people would be willing to give their lives for someone else, but if it involved someone "good" perhaps one could find people who’d be willing to sacrifice their lives for that person. But St. Paul noted that Christ showed of his love for all of us by giving his life for us, even though we didn’t deserve it, even though we were still sinners, still weakened by sin. And this really struck me this year.
When Jesus came here, became incarnate, became one of us, and then walked with us, we believe that he did so to show us that God is concerned about us and wants be part of our lives. Today on this day when we remember Jesus' Death on the Cross, we remember just how much Jesus loved us, just how far he’d go to continue to accompany us ... up until our own death, AND HE DID THIS EVEN THOUGH WE DIDN’T / DON’T DESERVE THIS, didn’t/don’t deserve such kindness or support.
But that is exactly what we remember today, God’s love for us, and His to accompany us even when we don’t deserve it, even when we’d perhaps prefer to be alone in our sadness or difficulty. And we are invited to respond to this kindness.
So this let us _give thanks_ to God who came here to look for us, and who after finding us wants to walk with us throughout our whole lives -- in good times and in bad – and even when perhaps we don’t we don’t even want him to.
Why does God do this? He does this because he loves us. We are his children and he wants to be part of our lives so that we can be part of His life, and be part of it forever.
So especially on this day, when we remember Jesus’ death for us, let us give thanks to a God who loves us so much. Amen.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Apr 21, 2011 - Holy Thursday - Feast of the Lord's Supper - Remembering the Last Suppers of our Lives
Readings - http://www.usccb.org/nab/042111a.shtml
Today we begin the celebration of the Triduum, the highest days of our Liturgical Year, and if you’re at all like us here at the office at Annunciata, it may feel that these celebrations have somehow "snuck-up on us" this year. (We were talking about this at the Rectory this year). Perhaps it’s because on one hand, Lent came so late this year. Perhaps it’s because it’s been unseasonably cold and rainy during this past week and so it just doesn’t feel like Easter should be upon us. BUT HERE IT IS.
And perhaps this is good, because it is a reminder that Life happens to us. It has its own pace and we aren’t completely in control of it. Sometimes we’re ready to celebrate something or something to happen. Sometimes we don’t really appreciate that it is coming until it is upon us.
On Holy Thursday, this the first night of the Triduum, we remember Jesus’ Last Supper. And it should be noted that the Passover in which context the Last Supper was celebrated, was instituted as a _happy occasion_, a celebration of _something new_ and _something good_ about to take place ... the imminent freedom of the People of Israel from slavery.
Yet, this celebration of a happy event, gets a new twist in Jesus using the occasion to celebrate his Last Supper. To be sure, he institutes a reminder for us, the Eucharist, which we use to remember this evening every Sunday, indeed every day, that we gather to celebrate the Eucharist. However, there is an obvious sadness to this feast that we commemorate on this evening, Holy Thursday.
Yet this certainly becomes part of our experience as we pass through life – and we are called to remember on this day the various "Last Suppers" that we’ve had in our own lives with family and friends, when perhaps we sensed or knew it was a "Last" of some sort (like Jesus did on this evening) or when perhaps we did not really know it was going to be a "Last" of some sort (like the Apostles). Many times we celebrate these and Christmas holidays not appreciating that this was going to be the last time we were going to celebrate it with particular people important to our lives. Sometimes we "kind of sense this" and other times, we don’t really have a clue" until we are "looking back."
It is this image of the various "last suppers" of our lives that would be valuable to take from the Liturgy this evening, and then to appreciate the people around us, because we do not know if next year they (or we) may be around ...
*****
Now this is only the First Night of the Triduum. Tommorrow, we will be celebrating Good Friday with the Liturgy of the Passion and Death of our Lord. On Saturday night and Sunday we will be celebrating Christ’s resurrection.
So this night does not remain in isolation.
However, let us though stay in this night tonight and appreciate the "lasts" in our lives, knowing that Christ is with us in those moments and always leading us then toward "something new."
Let us have a blessed Holy Thursday and a Blessed Triduum this year ...
Today we begin the celebration of the Triduum, the highest days of our Liturgical Year, and if you’re at all like us here at the office at Annunciata, it may feel that these celebrations have somehow "snuck-up on us" this year. (We were talking about this at the Rectory this year). Perhaps it’s because on one hand, Lent came so late this year. Perhaps it’s because it’s been unseasonably cold and rainy during this past week and so it just doesn’t feel like Easter should be upon us. BUT HERE IT IS.
And perhaps this is good, because it is a reminder that Life happens to us. It has its own pace and we aren’t completely in control of it. Sometimes we’re ready to celebrate something or something to happen. Sometimes we don’t really appreciate that it is coming until it is upon us.
On Holy Thursday, this the first night of the Triduum, we remember Jesus’ Last Supper. And it should be noted that the Passover in which context the Last Supper was celebrated, was instituted as a _happy occasion_, a celebration of _something new_ and _something good_ about to take place ... the imminent freedom of the People of Israel from slavery.
Yet, this celebration of a happy event, gets a new twist in Jesus using the occasion to celebrate his Last Supper. To be sure, he institutes a reminder for us, the Eucharist, which we use to remember this evening every Sunday, indeed every day, that we gather to celebrate the Eucharist. However, there is an obvious sadness to this feast that we commemorate on this evening, Holy Thursday.
Yet this certainly becomes part of our experience as we pass through life – and we are called to remember on this day the various "Last Suppers" that we’ve had in our own lives with family and friends, when perhaps we sensed or knew it was a "Last" of some sort (like Jesus did on this evening) or when perhaps we did not really know it was going to be a "Last" of some sort (like the Apostles). Many times we celebrate these and Christmas holidays not appreciating that this was going to be the last time we were going to celebrate it with particular people important to our lives. Sometimes we "kind of sense this" and other times, we don’t really have a clue" until we are "looking back."
It is this image of the various "last suppers" of our lives that would be valuable to take from the Liturgy this evening, and then to appreciate the people around us, because we do not know if next year they (or we) may be around ...
*****
Now this is only the First Night of the Triduum. Tommorrow, we will be celebrating Good Friday with the Liturgy of the Passion and Death of our Lord. On Saturday night and Sunday we will be celebrating Christ’s resurrection.
So this night does not remain in isolation.
However, let us though stay in this night tonight and appreciate the "lasts" in our lives, knowing that Christ is with us in those moments and always leading us then toward "something new."
Let us have a blessed Holy Thursday and a Blessed Triduum this year ...
Monday, April 18, 2011
April 17, 2011 - Palm Sunday - Let us Have a Blessed Holy Week
Readings - http://www.usccb.org/nab/041711.shtml
Today after 5 weeks of Lent, we come to the beginning of Holy Week with our celebration of Palm Sunday. This is a week in which each year the Liturgy asks us lift ourselves out of the Ordinary / day-to-day to contemplate the great mysteries of our faith.
Today, we remember Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem after an active ministry outside, beginning in Galilee and proceeding then through the hill country of Judea, Samaria, Jericho and finally to Jerusalem. We also proclaim the Passion, this year according to Matthew to remind us of the other events that will follow during this week.
On Thursday, we will be remembering the Feast of the Last Supper where Jesus left us with two mandates; the first, the celebration of the Eucharist which we do each Sunday, indeed each day, during the year; the second, the washing of feet, we do only that one evening a year, reminding us of Jesus’ call to minister to others in our following of him. At the end of the Mass, we will process out with the Blessed Sacrament and then be given the opportunity to keep vigil with him until midnight remembering Jesus’ time in prayer in the Garden of Gethsamane on the night he was betrayed.
On Friday, we will remember the Lord’s Passion in a Special Liturgy in which we will ask each of you participating to come forward and reverence the Cross of Jesus that set us free. We will also pray on behalf all the people of the world.
On Saturday, we will celebrate the Easter Vigil, in which we will recall key passages in our Salvation History, from our Creation, to the Fall, to the Exodus, to the Prophets, ending finally with the Proclamation of the Resurrection of Jesus. We will baptize and initiate adults into our faith who have been preparing for this moment for the better part of the yaer.
Finally on Sunday, we will celebrate Jesus’ Resurrection, renew our baptismal promises and seek then to celebrate the joy and the promise of Easter throughout the rest of the Easter season and throughout the rest of the year.
Parents and Grandparents, I ask you to find a way during this week to make this week special for your children and grandchildren. Teach them what we celebrate this week and why. These are dramatic days. And this is a week, offered to us each year, to deepen our commitment to God.
Most of our lives are lived in the mundane day-to-day. Yet this is a week that is offered to us to be special. Let us make it so. God bless you all and may you have a blessed Holy Week.
Today after 5 weeks of Lent, we come to the beginning of Holy Week with our celebration of Palm Sunday. This is a week in which each year the Liturgy asks us lift ourselves out of the Ordinary / day-to-day to contemplate the great mysteries of our faith.
Today, we remember Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem after an active ministry outside, beginning in Galilee and proceeding then through the hill country of Judea, Samaria, Jericho and finally to Jerusalem. We also proclaim the Passion, this year according to Matthew to remind us of the other events that will follow during this week.
On Thursday, we will be remembering the Feast of the Last Supper where Jesus left us with two mandates; the first, the celebration of the Eucharist which we do each Sunday, indeed each day, during the year; the second, the washing of feet, we do only that one evening a year, reminding us of Jesus’ call to minister to others in our following of him. At the end of the Mass, we will process out with the Blessed Sacrament and then be given the opportunity to keep vigil with him until midnight remembering Jesus’ time in prayer in the Garden of Gethsamane on the night he was betrayed.
On Friday, we will remember the Lord’s Passion in a Special Liturgy in which we will ask each of you participating to come forward and reverence the Cross of Jesus that set us free. We will also pray on behalf all the people of the world.
On Saturday, we will celebrate the Easter Vigil, in which we will recall key passages in our Salvation History, from our Creation, to the Fall, to the Exodus, to the Prophets, ending finally with the Proclamation of the Resurrection of Jesus. We will baptize and initiate adults into our faith who have been preparing for this moment for the better part of the yaer.
Finally on Sunday, we will celebrate Jesus’ Resurrection, renew our baptismal promises and seek then to celebrate the joy and the promise of Easter throughout the rest of the Easter season and throughout the rest of the year.
Parents and Grandparents, I ask you to find a way during this week to make this week special for your children and grandchildren. Teach them what we celebrate this week and why. These are dramatic days. And this is a week, offered to us each year, to deepen our commitment to God.
Most of our lives are lived in the mundane day-to-day. Yet this is a week that is offered to us to be special. Let us make it so. God bless you all and may you have a blessed Holy Week.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Apr 10, 2011 - 5th Sun of Lent - Christ gives us New Life
Readings – http://www.usccb.org/nab/041011.shtml
We find ourselves at the 5th Sunday of Lent and during the last three Sundays of Lent, we hear various aspects of Jesus’ mission being progressively revealed.
On the 3rd Sunday of Lent we heard of Jesus’ encounter with the Samaritan Woman at the Well and we were reminded of Jesus’ reconciling mission. He reconciled the Samaritan Woman to God and then to her community. Indeed, this woman, who previously was so separated from her community that she was sneaking to the well for water (water that she needed to survive) at a time when she wouldn’t encounter anyone, ended up presenting Jesus to the whole community and through her the whole community was saved.
On the 4th Sunday of Lent we heard of Jesus healing the man born blind, reminding us here of both Jesus’ healing mission and, more importantly, of Jesus’ ability to illuminate all of us and give us direction, purpose in life.
Today, on the 5th Sunday of Lent, we hear of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead, reminding us that Jesus is able to give New Life to us all.
Now here two things need to be said about both the miracles that we heard last Sunday and this Sunday:
First, we do have to believe that Jesus was capable of performing the miracles presented. After all, we remember Jesus as God and God _can do anything_ (which is pretty much the definition of God, or certainly part of the "job description" of God, that God can do _anything_). And so we have to believe that Jesus was able to perform the miracles that he hear him doing in the Gospel. However, secondly, we need to remember that Jesus was not merely a miracle-worker and that his miracles were best understood on a symbolic value where these miracles are capable of touching us all.
I say this because there were many people who were blind in Jesus’ time (and many who were "born blind") just as there are many people who are blind/born blind today. Jesus chose NOT to heal EVERY blind person. Instead, Jesus healed _only a few_, including _that particular man born blind_ and not many others. Why? Well it was probably because "blindness" is _not merely physical_. Most of us know people who live lwithout direction, who seem to living it BLIND. They don’t know what’s coming, they seems to crash repeatedly into obstacles that others see clearly, and again not merely physical obstacles but walls, constraints, traps, that exist in life. Jesus shows us through this miracle that he is able to "illuninate" / "give direction" (hope, peace, guidance) to even people who’ve "walked blindly through life" even from birth, thus saving them again from falling into needless problems and traps that perhaps others are able to see "from a mile away." Jesus is capable of doing this.
The same could be said of the Gospel reading from today. Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead. He didn’t raise everybody from the dead during his life. He simply raised Lazarus, and then (obviously) _only for a time_ because Lazarus eventually died just like all of us will eventually die (leave this world) as well. There is no 2000+ year old Lazarus living out there in Bethany today. Yet, Jesus is able to give New Life to us all.
And I think we know people who are living today as if they were dead. Perhaps we ourselves have found ourselves in situations that we thought that our lives were over, or that we were in such a depression that we appeared to others or even to ourselves as being effectively dead. In this miracle, Jesus shows us that he is capable to give us new life, new hope even in the midst of tragedy, even in the midst of death.
***
Now, many of you know that I like movies. I even write about them now. But those of you here know that I generally keep away from using them as examples here in my homilies. I prefer to take examples from my life or life as I’ve observed it around me over the years. Today though, I do wish to take the other tack and actually use a recently released movie to make the point here. (I do this because here because going too personally into my life here may not be particularly helpful or appropriate _here_, even if I do certainly believe that Jesus gives us new life, AND that I probably would not be standing here if I did not _believe this to be true_ AND have not _experienced this to be true_ as well).
I say all this because this time I do really prefer to use a movie as an example. And the movie is the movie Soul Surfer that was just released in the theaters this weekend. I like it for all kinds of reasons, among them that the movie was explicitly Christian (though also _not_ particularly preachy about it).
It’s about a 13 year old girl who was growing up in rural Hawaii, really having quite a blessed life, living just off the beach, home schooled for a few hours each day and then spending the rest of the day surfing. What a wonderful way to be growing up! And she even had hopes of becoming a competitive surfer, having already won some junior championships.
Anyway, all that was ended or was certainly put on hold, when in an instant a shark came up while she was surfing one day and bit off one of her arms all the way to the shoulder. She was lucky to have survived at all.
And in an instant, her life was radically changed. And the movie was great at showing this. How does one butter a toast with only one arm? How does one squeeze orange juice? Even though the movie was largely about her surfing life, these basic changes and new obstacles in her life were shown quite well.
Well, needless to say this tragedy caused her difficulty, and yes, even as a 13 year old, she did reflect on it, asking her youth group minister, how could it be that THIS (the loss of her arm again all the way up to her shoulder so even a prosthesis was unworkable) could be "part of God’s plan." And the rest of the movie was about working out an answer.
Part of the answer came when she joined her when sometime later she joined her youth group in going to Thailand after tsunami there – and this again was a poignant trip for her and the rest of the group for the very same waves that gave them so much joy growing up in Hawaii had caused so much tragedy to the people in Thailand. How could this be?
And yet, without saying a word, the movie came to show the fundamental Christian belief that ANY situation, indeed ANY tragedy can become an invitation, that ANY situation, ANY tragedy can be redeemed.
The girl in this movie started to play with the kids giving them rides on her surf board bring smiles to faces and reaquainting them with the water that had caused them so much pain, in a new and happier way. She of course comes back and restarts her surfing career, etc, etc. But she also sees the water and indeed her purpose in a new way. She becane a hero to all kinds of kids who suffered similar tragedies and she started to see her surfing not merely in terms of competition but in terms of giving people, all people joy. What a great movie! And what a great message!
And it’s a message that we see here in the Gospel Reading as well.
Yes, there will be times when tragedy will send us "into a tomb" for a while. But as Christians, we have a faith that DOES FUNDAMENTALLY BELIEVE that EVERY TRAGEDY can be converted into something positive. Yes, every cloud has a silver lining and yes, "if Jesus closes one door, he (or Mary) opens a window as well." We are a people of hope, a people of New Life.
And we hear this today.
So let us reflect on this more this coming week, during our remaining time of lent. And let us hope to bring the message of these last weeks to others around us who may need to hear it: That God/Jesus can bring us back (reconcile us), that God/Jesus can bring us light and give us direction in life, and God/Jesus can always give us "New Life" even if we may feel at times as if we were already in the Grave. God gives us hope. And let’s then seek to pass it on.
We find ourselves at the 5th Sunday of Lent and during the last three Sundays of Lent, we hear various aspects of Jesus’ mission being progressively revealed.
On the 3rd Sunday of Lent we heard of Jesus’ encounter with the Samaritan Woman at the Well and we were reminded of Jesus’ reconciling mission. He reconciled the Samaritan Woman to God and then to her community. Indeed, this woman, who previously was so separated from her community that she was sneaking to the well for water (water that she needed to survive) at a time when she wouldn’t encounter anyone, ended up presenting Jesus to the whole community and through her the whole community was saved.
On the 4th Sunday of Lent we heard of Jesus healing the man born blind, reminding us here of both Jesus’ healing mission and, more importantly, of Jesus’ ability to illuminate all of us and give us direction, purpose in life.
Today, on the 5th Sunday of Lent, we hear of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead, reminding us that Jesus is able to give New Life to us all.
Now here two things need to be said about both the miracles that we heard last Sunday and this Sunday:
First, we do have to believe that Jesus was capable of performing the miracles presented. After all, we remember Jesus as God and God _can do anything_ (which is pretty much the definition of God, or certainly part of the "job description" of God, that God can do _anything_). And so we have to believe that Jesus was able to perform the miracles that he hear him doing in the Gospel. However, secondly, we need to remember that Jesus was not merely a miracle-worker and that his miracles were best understood on a symbolic value where these miracles are capable of touching us all.
I say this because there were many people who were blind in Jesus’ time (and many who were "born blind") just as there are many people who are blind/born blind today. Jesus chose NOT to heal EVERY blind person. Instead, Jesus healed _only a few_, including _that particular man born blind_ and not many others. Why? Well it was probably because "blindness" is _not merely physical_. Most of us know people who live lwithout direction, who seem to living it BLIND. They don’t know what’s coming, they seems to crash repeatedly into obstacles that others see clearly, and again not merely physical obstacles but walls, constraints, traps, that exist in life. Jesus shows us through this miracle that he is able to "illuninate" / "give direction" (hope, peace, guidance) to even people who’ve "walked blindly through life" even from birth, thus saving them again from falling into needless problems and traps that perhaps others are able to see "from a mile away." Jesus is capable of doing this.
The same could be said of the Gospel reading from today. Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead. He didn’t raise everybody from the dead during his life. He simply raised Lazarus, and then (obviously) _only for a time_ because Lazarus eventually died just like all of us will eventually die (leave this world) as well. There is no 2000+ year old Lazarus living out there in Bethany today. Yet, Jesus is able to give New Life to us all.
And I think we know people who are living today as if they were dead. Perhaps we ourselves have found ourselves in situations that we thought that our lives were over, or that we were in such a depression that we appeared to others or even to ourselves as being effectively dead. In this miracle, Jesus shows us that he is capable to give us new life, new hope even in the midst of tragedy, even in the midst of death.
***
Now, many of you know that I like movies. I even write about them now. But those of you here know that I generally keep away from using them as examples here in my homilies. I prefer to take examples from my life or life as I’ve observed it around me over the years. Today though, I do wish to take the other tack and actually use a recently released movie to make the point here. (I do this because here because going too personally into my life here may not be particularly helpful or appropriate _here_, even if I do certainly believe that Jesus gives us new life, AND that I probably would not be standing here if I did not _believe this to be true_ AND have not _experienced this to be true_ as well).
I say all this because this time I do really prefer to use a movie as an example. And the movie is the movie Soul Surfer that was just released in the theaters this weekend. I like it for all kinds of reasons, among them that the movie was explicitly Christian (though also _not_ particularly preachy about it).
It’s about a 13 year old girl who was growing up in rural Hawaii, really having quite a blessed life, living just off the beach, home schooled for a few hours each day and then spending the rest of the day surfing. What a wonderful way to be growing up! And she even had hopes of becoming a competitive surfer, having already won some junior championships.
Anyway, all that was ended or was certainly put on hold, when in an instant a shark came up while she was surfing one day and bit off one of her arms all the way to the shoulder. She was lucky to have survived at all.
And in an instant, her life was radically changed. And the movie was great at showing this. How does one butter a toast with only one arm? How does one squeeze orange juice? Even though the movie was largely about her surfing life, these basic changes and new obstacles in her life were shown quite well.
Well, needless to say this tragedy caused her difficulty, and yes, even as a 13 year old, she did reflect on it, asking her youth group minister, how could it be that THIS (the loss of her arm again all the way up to her shoulder so even a prosthesis was unworkable) could be "part of God’s plan." And the rest of the movie was about working out an answer.
Part of the answer came when she joined her when sometime later she joined her youth group in going to Thailand after tsunami there – and this again was a poignant trip for her and the rest of the group for the very same waves that gave them so much joy growing up in Hawaii had caused so much tragedy to the people in Thailand. How could this be?
And yet, without saying a word, the movie came to show the fundamental Christian belief that ANY situation, indeed ANY tragedy can become an invitation, that ANY situation, ANY tragedy can be redeemed.
The girl in this movie started to play with the kids giving them rides on her surf board bring smiles to faces and reaquainting them with the water that had caused them so much pain, in a new and happier way. She of course comes back and restarts her surfing career, etc, etc. But she also sees the water and indeed her purpose in a new way. She becane a hero to all kinds of kids who suffered similar tragedies and she started to see her surfing not merely in terms of competition but in terms of giving people, all people joy. What a great movie! And what a great message!
And it’s a message that we see here in the Gospel Reading as well.
Yes, there will be times when tragedy will send us "into a tomb" for a while. But as Christians, we have a faith that DOES FUNDAMENTALLY BELIEVE that EVERY TRAGEDY can be converted into something positive. Yes, every cloud has a silver lining and yes, "if Jesus closes one door, he (or Mary) opens a window as well." We are a people of hope, a people of New Life.
And we hear this today.
So let us reflect on this more this coming week, during our remaining time of lent. And let us hope to bring the message of these last weeks to others around us who may need to hear it: That God/Jesus can bring us back (reconcile us), that God/Jesus can bring us light and give us direction in life, and God/Jesus can always give us "New Life" even if we may feel at times as if we were already in the Grave. God gives us hope. And let’s then seek to pass it on.
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