Archive for the ‘Chrisitian Virtues’ Category

Peter’s New Season — 3rd Sunday of Easter

April 20, 2010

Once, when Jesus was preaching as he stood on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, a large and eager crowd was pressing in on Him.  So Jesus got into a fisherman’s boat and asked him to put out aways so that He could sit and teach the crowds. The tired fisherman complied. And after Jesus had finished speaking, He said to this fisherman, “Put out into deep water and lower your nets for a catch.” The fisherman said, “We have worked hard all night and have caught nothing, but at your command I will lower the nets.” When they had done this, they caught an incredible number of fish such that their nets were tearing. And Jesus said to the startled man, “Do not be afraid. From now on you will be catching men.” As you probably remember, the fisherman was Simon Peter, and from that day on his life entered a new season. For the next few years Simon Peter would follow Jesus and evangelize towns on His behalf.

In today’s gospel, from the days after the resurrection, Peter is fishing again. And once again, Jesus is there on the shore. They have caught nothing, but Jesus says to try once more, and they catch an incredible number of fish. When Simon Peter realizes it is Jesus he eagerly comes to Him as fast as he can. He finds Jesus beside a charcoal fire. This should be familiar to Peter, too, calling to mind  another charcoal fire in the dark courtyard of the high priest.

After sharing a meal, Jesus says, “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these? Do you love me?  Do you love me?” Simon Peter says, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you. Yes, Lord, you know that I love you. Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus has given Peter the opportunity to undo his triple denial of Jesus with a triple confession of his love. And after each time, Jesus speaks of a new season for Peter’s life: “Feed my lambs. Tend my sheep. Feed my sheep.”

Now it is one thing to catch fish, but it is another thing to shepherd a flock. Up to now, Peter has been following Jesus and bringing others to Him. But now Jesus is asking Peter to do something new, to shepherd His flock for Him. Do you think Peter nervous? Is he concerned about whether he is up to the task? Is he worried about being led where he doesn’t want to go? I bet he is, but Jesus would have him ‘not be afraid,’ for he won’t be doing it alone. Jesus says to Peter, “Follow me.”

Our lives are often entering new seasons. Maybe you’re moving into a new town or a new school. Maybe you’re transitioning from engagement to marriage, welcoming new children, or living for the first time without children in the house. Maybe you have a new job, or don’t have a job for the first time. But whatever season of our life Jesus calls us into, His calling and our mission remain the same. Jesus said, ‘”I give you a new commandment; love one another as I have loved you,” and ” “There is no greater love than this, than to lay down your life for a friend.” Every new season of life offers us the unique opportunity to deepen our love for Christ and each other more than ever before.

Maybe you feel nervous? Maybe you’re concerned about whether you are up to the task? Maybe you’re worried about being led where you don’t want to go? But remember Simon Peter and don’t be afraid.  Jesus gives lots of second chances and He does not expect us to do it alone.

Rabbi Gamaliel’s Wisdom — Friday, 2nd Week of Easter

April 16, 2010

The apostles were brought before the Sanhedrin, the Jewish High Council, to be questioned for why they continued to teach in “that name.” At hearing the apostles’ answers, the Jewish leaders “became infuriated and wanted to put them to death,” but a Pharisee in the Sanhedrin stood up and had the apostles put outside. This was Gamaliel, a great teacher of the law who was respected by all the people. (It was at this rabbi’s feet that St. Paul received his Pharisaical training.)

Gamaliel said, “Fellow children of Israel, be careful what you are about to do to these men.” Now his form of address here is interesting and revealing. He could have addressed his peers in the Sanhedrin in many different ways, but by calling them “fellow children of Israel” he recalls Jacob (whose name God changed to Israel) and his twelve sons.

Now of all those sons, Joseph was Jacob’s favorite. This made the others so jealous that they sold Joseph into slavery. But through suffering this dishonor Joseph would go on to become the instrument of their salvation. Even though they meant to destroy him, they failed. God intended this for good, to achieve the salvation of many.

Gamaliel concluded his speech to the Sanhedrin wisely observing, “If this endeavor or this activity is of human origin, it will destroy itself. But if it comes from God, you will not be able to destroy them…”

Evil endeavors or activities are destroyed in time. But what is of God endures, even if it is sometimes setback by evil and sins. In these beleaguering times, for our country, for our Church, and for our pope, this lesson from Rabbi Gamaliel gives us good reason for hope.

Faithful Despite Doubts — Divine Mercy Sunday—2nd Sunday in Easter—Year C

April 11, 2010

Thomas, called Didymus, one of the Twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples said to him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger into the nailmarks and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”

Why is “Doubting” Thomas so slow to believe. Why is Thomas so reluctant to trust? A clue might be found in the gospel’s interesting inclusion of Thomas’ Greek nickname: Didymus. Didymus means “twin,” but in relation to whom was Thomas a twin? Some speculate that Thomas the Apostle bore a striking resemblance to Jesus Himself. This tradition is sometimes reflected in iconography where Thomas is the apostle who looks a lot like Jesus.

If this is why Thomas was the apostle called “the twin” then we can understand his rational skepticism. How many times during Jesus’ ministry had people come up to Thomas and said, “O Jesus, we’re so happy to see you! We’ve walked for miles to see you again!” Then, with some annoyance, Thomas might have answered, “We’ll you’ll have to walk a little bit further. Jesus is over there.” So now, when the other disciples come up to Thomas after Easter and say, “We have seen the Lord,” Thomas replies, ‘I’ll need more evidence than that.’

Thomas’ resistance to believing the good news about Jesus might not only be coming from his mind, but also from his heart. Jesus was Thomas’ hero, his teacher, and his close, beloved friend. Thomas thought that Jesus was going to be the savior and messianic king of Israel. But their close relationship and all of Thomas’ great hopes were destroyed for him at the crucifixion. Imagine how Thomas might have prayed then: “My God, why have you let this happen? How could you let Him be taken instead of me? Jesus was so good! He was completely innocent, and you let Him be die! Why?”

The unexpected death of Jesus broke Thomas’ heart, and having been so hurt once, Thomas was resolved not to let his heart be taken in again: “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger into the nailmarks and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”

Yet, though he doubts, notice where Thomas is one week after Easter. He is with the other apostles in the upper room in Jerusalem, gathered behind locked doors for fear of the authorities who killed Jesus. Now there are lots of other places Thomas could have chosen to be. There were safer places he could have gone, like back to his hometown and to the extended family and friends he had left behind to follow Jesus a few years before. Though Thomas doubts, he does not leave this house of faith. He struggles with his faith, but does not abandon it. He seeks within this house of faith, this Church, and because of it, Thomas finds sufficient evidence for his mind and healing for his heart.

The risen Lord appears in the upper room and how does Jesus respond to Thomas’ resistant unbelief? Not with anger.  Not with condemnation.  But with the divine mercy we celebrate today. Jesus appears in their midst and says, “Peace be with you.” Then he says to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands, and bring your hand and put it into my side, and do not be unbelieving, but believe.”

In our lives we too will struggle with our faith and our doubts, with our emotions and with our thoughts, in our hearts and in our minds. Jesus does not condemn our honest struggles. But Jesus wants us to sincerely seek within this house of faith; this, His apostles’ Church, where the truth and healing is found by all those who seek Him.

Jesus’ Resurrected Body — Easter

April 7, 2010

 

On Holy Thursday, we meditated on the disciples’ feet. On Good Friday, our Saviour’s hands.  Today, let us consider Jesus’ resurrected body.

Jesus’ resurrected body is the very same that died and was buried, but it is a very different body, too. The tomb was empty on Easter morning, not because Jesus’ body was vaporized, but because it was raised.

Jesus’ resurrected body has wounds, in his hands and feet and side, showing that this is the same body that suffered on the cross. It seems that the cuts and bruises on Jesus’ face and the lashes on His back are healed, but these five wounds remain. Why? These wounds are trophies and jewels.  They no longer cause Him pain, but they testify to Jesus’ greatness and love and He will have them forever.

So Jesus’ resurrected body is the very same body that died on the cross and was buried in the tomb, but it is a very different body. For instance, Jesus in His glorified body can cause others to see but not recognize Him, as He did on Easter evening with two disciples on the road to Emmaus. Only later, in the breaking of the bread, did they recognize Him. Then Jesus displayed another new power, disappearing from their sight. In His glorified body Jesus can move at the speed of thought and the walls and locked doors of the upper room do not prevent Him from appearing in the midst of the apostles.

In this there is a sign for the future of humanity. People often speak of “the end of the world” and imagine Heaven in strictly spiritual terms, but just as Jesus’ body was not annihilated but transformed, so our bodies and this universe will be remade. A glimpse into the future of the righteous is reflected in the resurrection of Christ.

Jesus’ body is not discarded, but gloriously transformed. In this there is a lesson for us. In (just about) every  life, there is a line that we have drawn in our relationship with God. It is a self-imposed limit on our trust, commitment, and self-gift towards Christ. “Lord, I will walk with you that far, (but no farther.)”

Perhaps we are unwilling to cross that line with us because we are too attached to the sins and mediocrity we have settled for, maybe we are afraid that we will lose who we are and become something that we are not, or maybe we are afraid that a total self-gift to God won’t truly make us happy. The devil likes this arbitrary line. He would like you to reach the end of your life and have to wonder with regret, “What would my life been if I had gone all-in for God?” The devil would have you fearful and repulsed of “the cross, the cross!” but the cross is not the end of our story.  Remember, as in Christ, God does not want to destroy you, but to transform you into who you truly are.

Do you believe Jesus suffered and died for you? Then He surely loves you. If He loves you, then how could He not desire your greatest happiness? Do you believe Jesus is divine and all-knowing? The surely He knows what will lead to your greatest good. Do you believe Jesus is all-powerful? Then surely He has the power the lead you to that good. Then what is standing in His way? There is only one thing standing in the way of His omnipotent power, preventing Him from transforming us into who (deep down) we truly want to be. That obstacle is our own freewill, the arbitrary line we draw in our relationship with Christ.

This Easter, let us be resolved to follow Christ without compromise. Let us entrust our whole selves to Him who has given us everything. Jesus does not want to destroy you, but to gloriously transform you into who you truly are.

Sin Means Death — 5th Sunday in Lent—Year C

March 21, 2010

The scribes and the Pharisees were jealous of Jesus. When He came to the temple all the people gathered round Him to listen to Him teach. His words were compelling; the truths of God taught with gentle mercy. All the people were flocking to Jesus and this made the scribes and the Pharisees deeply jealous. We ourselves must beware of jealousy, for it can lead us to hate the good and condemn the innocent.

The scribes and the Pharisees bring before Jesus an adulterous woman and say to him, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the very act of committing adultery. Now in the law, Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say?”

This scene raises some questions. For instance, how did Jesus’ enemies know where to find an adulteress when they needed one? It’s unlikely this affair was discovered just that morning. It must have been known from days, weeks, months, or even years before.

This prompts another question: if this affair had occurred much earlier, then why had the Jews not executed judgment on this woman before now. There seems to be two reasons for this. First of all, under Roman rule, the Jews had no authority to impose the death penalty on anyone. We will see this come into play in the Passion, where the Jewish leaders must convince Pilate that Jesus is an enemy of the state if they are going to do away with this “blasphemer.”

But there is another reason, too. Even though the Law of Moses had commanded death for certain sins, based upon what I’ve read the actual use of capital punishment for sins was very, very rare among the people of Israel, even before the Romans came along. And, as we can see in this scene, not even the scribes and the Pharisees are really serious about applying the law in strict and absolute terms. If they had been, they would have brought along the adulterous man for judgment too. Where is he? He was just as guilty as her, if not more (considering their culture.)

So the penalty of death was very rarely employed for punishing sinners, but then why were these severe punishments in the Old Covenant at all?  It seems that the point of those rarely applied laws was to teach an important lesson, a lesson repeated over and over again in countless ways throughout the Old Testament, a lesson for the Jews and a lesson for us today:

Sin is serious stuff, because sin leads to death.
Sin brings us death in our bodies and our souls.
Sin means death.

The scribes and the Pharisees round up a known adulteress and set their trap against Jesus (which is the only thing this is really about for them.) Jesus’ enemies will try pitting justice against Jesus’ mercy. They’re thinking to themselves, “Surely he’s not going to tell us to stone her, that’s not his way. He says he ‘has come not to destroy, but to seek and to save what is lost.’ So when he tells us not to stone her, then we’ve got him. He’ll be telling us to disobey the Law of Moses, and then we’ll have a charge to bring against him.”

“So Jesus… what do you say?” Jesus says nothing. He stoops down and writes with His finger on the ground the only thing we have record of Him writing in the entire Gospels. What did Jesus write? We don’t know. The Greek verb used indicates that Jesus was writing letters or words, and not drawing disinterested doodles or drawing a line between the accused and her accusers.

A common explanation is that Jesus’ finger was writing on the ground the names of sins, sins which those in the crowd had committed, sins which the finger of God had written of long before, on the stones of the commandments atop Mount Sinai. Perhaps Jesus wrote the words: “Sacrilege, Rebellion, Adultery, Theft, Deception, Coveting.”

The accusers continue harassing Jesus, but He rises again, and gives his well-known reply. The crowd of evil doers slowly scatters, and Jesus is left there alone with the woman. The threatening mob is gone, and you think that the woman would flee, but the woman does not run away. She knows she has sinned. She knows that she cannot run away from her sins or from God. She stays there before Jesus.

Jesus rises again and says to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”
She replies, “No one, sir.”
Jesus says, “Neither do I condemn you. Go, and from now on do not sin any more.”

Jesus condemns the sin, but not the sinner. Jesus is merciful, but He is not indifferent to the prospect of her continuing in sin, nor is he indifferent to us continuing in our old sins. He does not say, “Go, and live as you will: presume on my deliverance: for however great your sins may be, it doesn’t really matter one way or the other.”

Jesus does not say this, for sin means death, and Jesus died to free us from sin and death. So let us come before Jesus to receive His pardon, but then let us go forth seriously and, from now on, sin no more.

Romantic Christianity — Friday after Ash Wednesday

February 21, 2010

In the gospel disciples of John ask Jesus, “Why do we and the Pharisees fast much, but your disciples do not fast?” Jesus answered them, “Can the wedding guests mourn as long as the bridegroom is with them?” Of all the images in the Bible to depict the relationship between God and His people, perhaps the most common is that of bridegroom and bride.

As we begin this Lent we should understand that the saints became holy and made their great sacrifices not by relying upon their own “iron-wills,” but by falling passionately in love.

If we strive after holiness as a personal achievement our exertions will make us discouraged and resentful, like the people in the first reading who complain, “Why do we fast, and you do not see it? Afflict ourselves, and you take no note of it?”

But what sort of person can make incredible sacrifices for another, without counting the cost, and feel intoxicating happiness as they do so? A person who can do this is a person who’s in love.

What if Christianity is not supposed to be so hard as you’re making it out to be? What if it is supposed to be as easy as falling in love? Perhaps you are being called to a new approach.

Christian and Unashamed — Ash Wednesday at the Parish

February 17, 2010

In today’s Gospel, Jesus warns us against giving so that others see us giving, against praying so that others see us praying, and against fasting so that others see us fasting. Yet, I don’t think that showy religiosity is where the danger lies for us.

In Jesus’ day, the popular culture proudly believed in God and respected religious piety. Hence, those people were tempted to publically flaunt their acts of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving and thereby gain the respect and praise of others. But today, in our secularized culture, the temptation is to do the opposite, and to do something far worse. We are tempted to deny our faith in Jesus and teachings before others because we’re afraid of what they might think of us.

The hypocrites Jesus spoke of, who pray to be seen by others, merely limit their prayers’ reward, but if we deny Christ before others we lose our rewards entirely. For Jesus tells us:

“Whoever is ashamed of me and of my words, the Son of Man will be ashamed of when he comes in his glory and in the glory of the Father and of the holy angels.” “Everyone who acknowledges me before others I will acknowledge before my heavenly Father. But whoever denies me before others, I will deny before my heavenly Father.”

This is why the early Christians went to the lions rather than to deny Christ, and it was their courageous witness to Him that conquered the pagan culture which surrounded them.

This Lent, let us begin to practice putting the Lord before men. For instance, are you someone who will be so embarrassed by having an smudge of ash on your forehead that you’ll want to wash it off the first chance you get? If so, then you should leave it there until it wipes away on its own.

Are you are someone who sees good deeds that just call out to be done but pass them by because of your peers would see you doing them? Then you need to bite the bullet and start doing those hard-good-deeds anyways.

Are you someone who is self-conscious about other people seeing you pray, here at Church, at work, or when your family goes out to a restaurant? Then you need to make it a point to pray, and when you do, do not ask that God would make you invisible; ask Him that other people would become invisible to you and then pray to Him as from your heart.

Now, these are not examples of performing righteous deeds so that others may see you. This is about doing the right thing even if others might happen to see you do it. This Lent, let us begin to love and serve our eternal Lord amidst a world which is destined to become dust.

You are called to be the light of the world. People do not light a candle and then put a bucket over it; it is set it high up, where it can give light for everyone. Just so, your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father. This Lent, let’s begin to shine.

Unashamably Christian — Ash Wednesday at the School

February 17, 2010

In today’s Gospel, Jesus warns us against giving so that others see us giving, against praying so that others see us praying, and against fasting so that others see us fasting. Yet, I don’t think that showy religiosity is where the danger lies for us.

In Jesus’ day, the popular culture proudly believed in God and respected religious piety. Hence, those people were tempted to publically flaunt their acts of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving and thereby gain the respect and praise of others. But today, in our secularized culture, the temptation is to do the opposite, and to do something far worse. We are tempted to deny our faith in Jesus Christ and His teachings before others because we’re afraid of what they might think of us.

The hypocrites who pray to be seen by others limit their rewards, but if we deny Christ lose our rewards entirely. I’ve touched on this topic twice before from this ambo, as recently as three weeks ago, but I feel that it is important for me to emphasize it, and that it’s important for you to hear it. For Jesus tells us:

“Whoever is ashamed of me and of my words, the Son of Man will be ashamed of when he comes in his glory and in the glory of the Father and of the holy angels.” “Everyone who acknowledges me before others I will acknowledge before my heavenly Father. But whoever denies me before others, I will deny before my heavenly Father.”

This Lent, let us begin to put God first; in our prayers, in our penances, and in our personal relationships.

Are you someone who will be so embarrassed by having an smudge of ash on your forehead that you’ll want to wash it off the first chance you get? Well then, you’re someone who needs to leave it there until it wipes away on its own.

Are you are someone who sees good deeds that call out to be done but pass them by because of the people who would see you doing it?  Then you need to bite the bullet and start doing those hard-good-deeds anyways.

Are you someone who will have more to say in gratitude to God after Mass this morning than is allowed by the eight seconds before your pew starts clearing-out? Well, then you need to stay in your pew to say what your heart wants to say as long as you need to say it (without, of course, being late to class.)

Now, these are not examples of performing righteous deeds so that others may see you.  This is doing the right thing even if others might happen to see you doing it.

If you’re self-conscious about other people seeing your devotion to the Lord (for instance at Mass) do not pray that you would be invisible to them; ask that they would invisible to you and continue as you would.

You are called to be the light of the world. People do not light a candle and then put a bucket over it; it is set on a lampstand, where it gives light for everyone. Just so, your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father.

This Lent let us begin to love and serve the Lord in the world. This Lent, let’s begin to shine.

Single-Minded Faith — Monday, 6th Week in Ordinary Time—Year II

February 15, 2010

From the letter of St. James we hear that ‘God gives to all generously and ungrudgingly,’ yet in the Gospel the Pharisees asked Jesus for a sign and received nothing. The Lord told them, “no sign will be given to this generation.”

Why didn’t the skeptical Pharisees receive what they asked for? As St. James says, they were men of two minds: “Yeah, we believe in the messiah and that he’s coming, but we’re certain that he’s not you!” Are we people of two minds in our lives of faith?

“Yeah, I hope for a renewal, a new springtime in the Church, but I don’t think much will change here in the United States.”

“Sure I want unity in our parish, but with the people we have to deal with it’s not very likely.”

“I really want my children to know Christ and to fall in love with the faith, but I can’t teach them very much.”

“Of course I’d like to be a saint, but I know the limits to my holiness and God ought to know and accept those limits too.”

Let us not be people of two minds. Let us pray and act with a single-minded faith, so that we may see, in this generation, the signs of Christ’s power.

Mary and Pilate — 6th Sunday in Ordinary Time—Year C

February 14, 2010

In a few moments, after this homily, we will recite our creed, the summary of our faith. Every Sunday, we profess, in union with the Christians who came before us, our belief in these truths and our resolve to live our lives according to them. This morning we will look at just one rich aspect of our creed and consider its implications for our lives.

Have you ever noticed that in the entire creed, only two non-divine persons are mentioned by name? These are the Virgin Mary and Pontius Pilate.

“By the power of the Holy Spirit, He was born of the Virgin Mary and became man. For our sake He was crucified under Pontius Pilate; He suffered, died and was buried.”

Now many other figures from the Old and New Testaments could have justifiably been included in our creed; such as Adam and Eve, Abraham, Moses, David, Mary Magdalene, Peter, Paul, and many others. Yet, only Mary and Pilate get mentioned. So why is this? There seems to be two very good reasons. The first of these reasons I will give now—and the second I will save for the end.

The first reason why Mary and Pilate receive special mention is that they ground Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection in our real history. Jesus was ‘born of the Virgin Mary, suffered and died under Pontius Pilate, and on the third day, He rose again.’ Now other pre-Christian religions sometimes had stories about dying gods who came to life again, but those stories were always said to have happened ‘once upon a time,’ in some remote and mythic past. But with Jesus Christ, this ancient intuition and longing of humanity is actually realized. The inclusion of Mary and Pilate in the creed witness to this: that God became man, died, and rose for us, in this world and in real history.

Some people try to be too sophisticated by saying it doesn’t really matter if Jesus rose from the dead, or even if He lived at all, because His teachings are what’s important. But St. Paul blows this idea out of the water. “If Christ has not been raised, your faith is vain; you are still in your sins. Then those who have fallen asleep in Christ have perished” and “we are the most pitiable people of all.” Without Jesus Christ and His resurrection there is no Gospel, there is no Good News.

Just like Jesus Christ, Mary His Mother and Pontius Pilate His executioner are not fictional characters made up for some story. They are real people, from a time not that much different from our own. Our styles and technologies may have changed, but human beings themselves remain much the same. When we look at Mary and Pilate we can see ourselves in these two people whom Christ encountered twenty centuries ago.

Pilate is the secular Man of the World.
Mary is the devoted Disciple of Christ.

Pilate seeks the glory of men.
Mary seeks the glory of God.

Pilate knows worldly wisdom, he is clever and cunning.
But Mary knows God’s wisdom, and she is truly wise.

Pilate thinks he knows how the world works and the pragmatic way to get things done. For Pilate, our world is totally shaped by of power, money, and influence, with some blind luck thrown into the mix. When Jesus stands silent before him, Pilate says, “Do you not speak to me? Do you not know that I have the power to release you and I have the power to crucify you?” Jesus replies, “You would have no power over me if it had not been given you from above.”

Pilate is a very post-modern man.  He’s a moral relativist. When he asks Jesus, “What is truth,” he doesn’t bother to wait for an answer from Truth Himself. That’s because Pilate thinks that the ‘truth’ cannot be known except for the ‘truths’ which we choose for ourselves or impose upon others.

The Gospels show that Pilate knows Jesus is innocent, or at least that he poses no real threat to society, yet Pilate is willing to have this innocent man whipped and even crucified when that becomes the most expedient thing to do. The crowd threatens Pilate, “If you release him, you are not a friend of Caesar,” and he quickly caves and hands Jesus over.

Pilate washes his hands of responsibility, and extends Christ’s arms on the cross. Mary had extended her arms declaring, “Let it be done to me according to your word,” and lovingly held the infant savior in her hands.

Pilate, despite all his power, is ruled by fear.
Mary, despite her weaknesses, is freed from it.

Governor Pilate is rich in wealth and power and yet he has no peace.
Mary, the poor widow, has peace and everything she needs from God.

Pilate has no faith in the God of Israel. He says, “I am not Jew, am I?” But for Mary, God is her rock and this makes all the difference in the world. Mary is defined by her faith, hope and love.

Mary never attends an academy, but she is profoundly wise because she reflects in her heart on the words and deeds of God and because she lives by her own advice: “Do whatever he tells you.” She knows that we do not manufacture the truth for ourselves, we receive it, ultimately from God. We love it, we defend it, and we share it with others. “Blessed [is she],” as Elizabeth said, “who believed that what was spoken to [her] by the Lord would be fulfilled.” Mary trusted and believed, for she saw the evidence through history that God “has mercy on those who fear Him in every generation,” that “He scatters the proud in their pride, and casts down the mighty from their throwns, but He lifts up the lowly.”

Mary’s life was full, but was not free from trials. When Mary consents to be found with child through the Holy Spirit she is uncertain of what will happen to her, but she trusts in God. She does not know how she and her husband will get by as poor immigrants in foreign country, but she continues to trust. Mary’s response to every trial in life, even to the death of her son, is to trust in God. Despite men’s sins, she trusts in God as the Lord of history, that He casts down the proud and mighty from their throwns and raises up the lowly.

Pilate is indifferent to Christ, and he consents to sending Him to the cross, but Mary is wholly devoted to Christ, and she consents to share in His Passion. Pilate’s heart is hardened despite Christ’s Passion, while Mary’s heart is pierced by it.

Governor Pilate was once the most powerful man in Judea, but where is he now? Mary, the poor widow, is now our glorious queen, the most beautiful and powerful woman in heaven or earth, and through her reign she draws millions to Christ our king.

She is the one who wept and now laughs.
He is the one who laughed and now weeps.

He was rich in the world and now he is poor.
She was poor in the world and now the kingdom is hers.

He took root in the desert, he was barren and uprooted.
But she was planted beside the flowing waters, she endured and bore much fruit.

So what do all of these reflections about Mary and Pilate have to do with us? I promised you at the beginning a second good reason why Mary and Pilate are mentioned in the creed; and here it is: Mary and Pilate represent us. They stand as archetypes, models or patterns, for every person.

The faithful one and the faithless one.

The one who serves God and the one who serves himself.

The one who gives Christ life and the one who puts him to death.

We live our daily lives as either Mary or Pilate, with shades of the other thrown in. As we come to the season of Lent, let us examine and discern who we are. “How am I Pilate, and how am I Mary?” And at this Eucharist, let us ask Jesus to exchange in us the ways of Pilate for the ways of Mary, for hers is the way of Christ.

Approaching God — 5th Sunday in Ordinary Time—Year C

February 11, 2010

In today’s first reading the prophet Isaiah hears the angels praising God at the temple with words like those we proclaim at every Mass: “Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts! All the earth is filled with his glory!”

What do these words mean?  First, the Jews did not have adverbs for “very,” “most,” or “infinitely” in Hebrew, so if they wanted to say something was very heavy they would call it “heavy, heavy.”  If they wanted to say something was most heavy or (if it were possible) infinitely heavy they would call it “heavy, heavy, heavy.”  So when Isaiah hears the angels call God “holy, holy, holy,” they are praising His perfection, transcendence, and goodness to the highest degree.

Why is God called “the LORD of hosts?” A host is an army, or a large group of persons. In this case, God’s army of angelic  persons is referred to. Our God is holy and wields unsurpassed power. The earth is filled with his glory.

Isaiah behold this sight and becomes very afraid. “Woe is me, I am doomed! For I am a man of unclean lips, living among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!” In the Old Testament people thought that no human being could look upon God and live.

Then an angel, one of the seraphim, fly down, takes an ember with tongs from the altar (for the Jews sacrificed animals as burnt-offerings at the temple) and touches Isaiah’s mouth. “See,” the angel says, “now that this has touched your lips, your wickedness is removed, your sin purged.” God asks whom He can send to be His prophet, and now Isaiah has the courage to say “Here I am, send me!”

Imagine if, at communion time, people would line up and come before the priest to have a red hot coal touched to their lips or tongue? Priest: “The holiness of God.” Communicant: “Amen… Ou!” I imagine the communion line would be much shorter.

This is the bread that we will be offering at this Mass to become the real body, blood, soul, and divinity of Jesus Christ. It’s flat because it unleavened, just like the bread at the Jewish Passover meal and as at Jesus’ Last Supper.  Leaven, or yeast, is bacteria which grows and makes our bread fluffy. The Jews were to keep leaven, which symbolized sin, out of their Passover bread.

Like all of the other sacraments, the Lord’s choice to use bread has symbolic meaning.  Take baptism, for example: water cleanses us and gives us life.  Similarly, bread gives us life and becomes one with us. No wonder Jesus chose it to be his symbol for the Eucharist. The very use of bread invites us to receive him.  The symbol of bread speaks, “Come, do not be afraid. I am here to be received by you and to become one with you.” We tend to forget what an unprecedented privilege this is.

In the Old Covenant, Jews could always pray to God, for ‘all the earth was filled with his glory,’ but they you wanted to go where the Lord was most present on earth they had to go to one place, the temple in Jerusalem.  And even when they got there they did not enter in where the Lord was most present, the Holy of Holies, where only the high priest would go, and only once a year at that. The faithful would worship in the courts outside the temple.  It would be like us coming to church today to stand and pray from the parking lot. Instead, we have the privilege to stand and worship the Lord here in His sanctuary, and not only do we see the Most Holy Lord with our own eyes, but we actually receive Him in the Most Holy Sacrament.

The wonder and the privilege and the awe of this new intimacy with God at the Eucharist could not have been lost upon the early Christians, who were converts from Judaism. Do we approach the Lord with a healthy fear of the Lord, which is called the beginning to wisdom? This fear is not terror, which would cause us to hide ourselves from the Lord. It is a reverence which honors the Giver who is the Gift.

We all sin from week to week, but if our sins are minor, or venial, then Jesus wants us to approach Him in the Eucharist. Receiving this sacrament with contrition forgives our venial sins. On the other hand, if we are aware of serious, or grave sins on our souls, then Jesus wants us to approach Him in another sacrament first, the sacrament of confession, or reconciliation.

In the second reading we heard St. Paul’s words to the church at Corinth, reminding them of what he ‘handed on to them as of first importance as he had also received it.’ Later in the letter he reminds them of something else in a similar way:

For I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you, that the Lord Jesus, on the night he was handed over, took bread, and, after he had given thanks, broke it and said, “This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” In the same way also the cup, after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.” For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes. Therefore whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord unworthily will have to answer for the body and blood of the Lord. A person should examine himself, and so eat the bread and drink the cup. For anyone who eats and drinks without discerning the body, eats and drinks judgment on himself. That is why many among you are ill and infirm, and a considerable number are dying. If we discerned ourselves, we would not be under judgment…”

Before we approach the Eucharist let us examine ourselves first, and if we have serious unconfessed sins, from even years ago, let us present ourselves for Jesus’ needed forgiveness in confession first. Ask yourself, do I care more about others’ opinions of me, or about the opinion of the Lord (who sees all things)?

Whenever we come to Christ in the Eucharist let us approach Him as the earliest Christians did, with wonder, awe, and holy fear. Let us have that reverence which honors the Giver who gives Himself as a Gift to us.

The Fool’s Blindness — Tuesday, 5th Week in Ordinary Time—Year II

February 9, 2010

Some priests like to begin their homilies with jokes. Today I’m going begin by telling you a few jokes—some very, very old jokes. In fact, they come from the oldest joke book in the world, a collection of 265 jokes from the 4th century A.D. entitled The Philogelos, or (in English) The Laugh-Addict.

One day an intellectual bumped into a friend and said to him, “I heard you were dead.” “Well,” said the friend, “As you can see, I am very much alive.” “Yes,” [replied the other,] “but the person who told me you were dead is much more reliable than you.”

[On another occasion,] A doctor stole the lamp of a man whom he was treating for inflammation of the eyes. A few days later, the doctor asked the patient how his eyes were. “It’s a funny thing, [Doctor,] ever since you treated them I haven’t been able to see my lamp.”

[And finally,] An intellectual was [once] on a sea voyage when a big storm blew up, causing his slaves to weep in terror. ‘Don’t cry,’ he consoled them, ‘I have freed you all in my will.’”

Now these three jokes have something in common, besides being very old. They all share the have comedic device: a foolish person who focuses on the wrong thing, like the patient who mistrusts his eyes more than his doctor. This is called majoring in the minors, or as Jesus would say, “straining the gnat and swallowing the camel.” In the Gospel today, Jesus really takes it to the scribes and Pharisees for doing this sort of thing: “You disregard God’s commandment but cling to human tradition. … This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me…”

So do we focus on small details of our faith and neglect what’s really important? For instance, next Wednesday is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent, and during Lent we usually give up something we enjoy as a form of penance until the joyful celebration of Easter. Now keeping a Lenten penance is a good tradition, because penance helps us to shed old sins and to grow in our ability to do good and to be happy. But… if we give up pop, cookies, candy, or ice cream, while we neglect to go to Sunday Mass, we are keeping a human tradition while we neglect God’s command: keep holy the Lord’s day. Instead of doing neither this Lent, please do both.  Take a penance and go to Mass every weekend for the love of God.

Maybe your family doesn’t go to Mass on weekends, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t. If you love God enough to ask your parents’ permission to go by yourself or with a friend this Sunday, I doubt you will need to go alone a second time. For you will provide your parents with a needed reminder about God’s important in our lives, and I bet you that at least one of them, if not the whole family, will come with you every week after.

So let us keep first things first, and not be stupid, like the man who was swimming when it started to rain; and dove to the bottom, to keep from getting wet. This Lent, let us keep the Lord’s Day, every Lord’s Day, holy. The reason the Lord calls you out is to call you to Himself.

Asking and Receiving — Friday, 4th Week in Ordinary Time—Year II

February 5, 2010

King Herod said to his daughter, “Ask of me whatever you wish and I will grant it to you.” He even swore many things to her, “I will grant you whatever you ask of me, even to half of my kingdom.” If Herod, who was wicked, could be moved to give his daughter gifts, how much more will our heavenly Father give us good things if we ask Him. Praying for good things is something Jesus commands us to do.

While many Christians fall into the mistake of only praying when they want something from God, there are other Christians, who pray every day, who make an opposite mistake. These Christians pray for good things for others, but they never ask anything for themselves, fearing that this would be a selfish prayer. But the danger in this, in never requesting and never expecting God’s gifts and consolations, is that we’ll become discouraged and gradually embittered.

If we never ask for a share in the Father’s gifts we risk becoming like the older brother in Luke’s parable of the prodigal son. Eventually we’ll say to God, “Look, all these years I served you and not once did I disobey your orders; yet you never even gave me something to feast on with my friends.” But our generous and forgiving Father would say to us, “My child, you are here with me always; everything I have is yours for the asking.”

Jesus said, “Whatever you ask in my name, I will do, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son.” So ask God to give you gifts—this is not a selfish prayer, for it will strengthen you in holiness and glorify God. I suggest that you try out a little experiment. Pray, “Lord, please treat me to something special today,” and then watch for his gift to come.

Staying Until Leaving — Thursday, 4th Week in Ordinary Time—Year II

February 4, 2010

Jesus provided the Twelve with their message to preach, their authority to cast out demons, and their power to cure the sick. However, Jesus withheld from the Twelve some basic provisions: no food, no bags, no spending cash, no second tunics for warmth in the cold night. On the other hand, Jesus instructs them carry walking sticks and wear sandals. What is Jesus thinking?

Jesus wants His disciples to be mobile, so that they can quickly travel to distant towns, but Jesus doesn’t want His disciples to be self-sufficient once they get there. Their lack of food, of money and of a place to sleep, forces them to become fully present to others. It necessitates the personal encounter.

Jesus told the Twelve to enter the lives of others, to enter their homes and to stay there until they leave. But what does it mean for them to stay until they leave? (How could someone leave before they’ve left?) Jesus is commanding them not trade up from house to house, as better accommodations are offered, thereby alienating and dishonoring their first hosts.

What does this gospel mean for us today? First of all, that our most important work, whatever our state in life, is our personal ministry to the people to whom Christ is sending us. We’re all busy, but we must not be too busy for what’s most important. Our professional careers will end, but our personal relationships will last, literally, forever.

Sometimes when we encounter other people we neglect Jesus’ advice to stay until we leave. Someone is speaking to us and we mentally check-out to green pastures. Sometime we fail to encounter the other person at all, brushing them off like dust on our feet.

I’ve heard it said that something which often struck people who met Pope John Paul the Great was how totally present He was to them, with his eyes and his mind, as if they were for him—in that moment—the most important person in the entire world. Can we imagine a personal encounter with Jesus Christ being any different? John Paul was a very busy man with a world of concerns on his shoulders, just like Jesus Christ, but they both had the time for what was most important.

I want to live more like that.  Don’t you?

Absalom and Satan — Monday, 4th Week in Ordinary Time—Year II

February 1, 2010

Absalom was one of David’s very own, but Absalom would betray him. Absalom’s name means “Father of Peace,” but he far closer resembles the “Father of Lies.”

In almost our earliest story about him, Absalom arranged his brother’s murder. He’s a murderer from the beginning.

We read that Absalom, like Satan, had a radiant beauty. “In all Israel there was not a man who could so be praised for his beauty as Absalom, who was without blemish from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head.”

Like the devil, Absalom’s glory was equaled by his vanity. At the end of every year, when his long hair grew too heavy, he would have it shaved and weighed it according to the royal standard.

Absalom was willing do havoc to attract another’s attention, as when he set fire to the field of a person ignoring him.

Like the serpent, Absalom was cunning and he would readily lie to serve his purposes. Absalom would sit at the city gates, listen to peoples’ (legal) grievances, and assure each one that they were right and entitled. Then he would manipulatively muse on how much better their lives would be if only he had the power.

Finally, Absalom sought to overthrow and kill his king. Absalom’s best advisor would counsel him, ‘Please let me choose twelve thousand men, and be off in pursuit of David tonight. When all the people with him flee, I shall strike down the king alone. It is the death of only one man you are seeking; then all the people will be at peace.’ This plan was agreeable to Absalom and to all the elders of Israel.

In our first reading we see David weeping on the Mount of Olives as he flees from Absalom. 1,000 years later, a descendant of David would be troubled in spirit on that same hill overlooking Jerusalem. Unlike David, Jesus did not flee His pursuers and was dead within a day. Jesus and the Sanhedrin agreed on this: it was better that one man should die, so that the whole nation may not perish.

David would flee and survive, but Absalom would die, thrust through with spears, hanging from a tree, entangled by his long, glorious hair.  But after this comes an episode which is a window into God’s incredible love for us. When news of the villainous betrayer’s death reaches King David, he mourns inconsolably at the loss of his beloved.

Likewise, and amazingly, despite Satan’s great and intractable wickedness; his betrayals, violence, and lies; the Lord still loves him. As the Book of Wisdom affirms, “[Lord,] you love all things that are and loathe nothing that you have made; for what you hated, you would not have fashioned. And how could a thing remain, unless you willed it; or be preserved, had it not been called forth by you?

There is a great encouragement in this for each one of us. If the Lord loves Satan, like David loved Absalom, then how could we ever doubt that the Lord will always love us, or imagine that He rejects us whenever we turn to Him?