Archive for the ‘Chrisitian Virtues’ Category

Tuesday, 20th Week in Ordinary Time—Year I

August 18, 2009

Jesus said, “For men [by themselves, salvation] is impossible, but for God all things are possible.” Evidence of this truth is seen in Gideon, whom the Lord this morning asks to save Israel.

Like Mary at the Annunciation, a messenger assures him, “The Lord is with you.”  But Gideon asks, “Please, my lord, how can I save Israel?” “I shall be with you,” the Lord says to him.

Gideon presents his strange visitor with a meal of unleavened bread and of young goat’s meat. He is directed to pour the broth of meat juices upon it. The juice flows over the bread and the meat and onto the ground, like Christ’s blood flowing over His flesh and down to the foot of the cross. Gideon sees the wondrous sacrifice and realizes that the presence and the power of God are in his midst.

After overcoming his hesitancies, Gideon listens to the Lord God as his military advisor, and using just 300 men, armed with lanterns in one hand and trumpet horns in the other, routs a hoard of Israel’s enemies.

God works no overwhelming miracles for Gideon. He never causes Gideon’s enemies to be swallowed up by earthquakes, or by balls of fire from heaven, or by tidal waves. Instead, God only uses little signs to reassure Gideon, to teach him to trust, and to listen to the still small voice of the Lord. In this way, Gideon becomes an effective instrument in fulfilling God’s plans. We can learn from Gideon, because the Lord prefers to work in the same way with us and through us: little signs, strengthen our trust, teach us to listen, and to fulfill God’s plans.

Gideon’s story is one of my favorites in the Old Testament. Unfortunately, you’re not going to hear any more of it after today because our lectionary skips beyond it. But the rest of Gideon’s fascinating story waits for you in the book of Judges, chapters 6 and 7.

August 8 – St. John Marie Vianney

August 17, 2009

For many years, around 300 people would travel by train each day to a small town of 230 people. Why did they come? They came because they sought the mercy and counsel of Christ in the confessional of John Marie Vianney. Why did Father John 12 to 17 hours a day sitting in his confessional? He was there because he believed that this sacrament was that important.

Today we often hear people say, “Why do I have to confess my sins to a priest when I can just pray to God directly? It’s like the complaint of Aaron and Miriam in the first reading,  “Is it though Moses alone that the Lord speaks?”

Jesus, in the upper room, breathed on his apostles and said to them, “Receive the holy Spirit.  Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and whose sins you retain are retained.” Did Jesus give them this authority and power for no purpose at all?

Jesus gave us the sacrament of reconciliation because we need it. Confession prevents my sins from just being between me and myself. It prevents me from making mountains into molehills, and molehills into mountains. It allows me to know with absolute confidence that this sin of mine is forgiven forever. When we go to confession we acknowledge the Incarnation, that Christ redeemed us in His flesh, not merely by composing a prayer to the Father.

If you are too shy to admit your sins to a priest, who won’t know who you are, and couldn’t tell another soul even if he did, then what makes you think you will have the poise to stand face to face with Christ at the judgment?

When Miriam and Aaron sinned, they turned for mercy to the Lord’s servant, Moses, and their sin was healed. If you have neglected confession, please come. There is mercy, peace, and God’s help awaiting you.

If you already go to confession with some frequency, then please offer a penance today for the conversion of sinners. St. John Vianney did penances for conversions because he was convinced that it made a difference.

In the Gospel we heard that every sick person who came and touched Jesus’ cloak was healed, but those sick people first had to be brought to Jesus. Help carry them.

20th Sunday in Ordinary Time—Year B

August 17, 2009

Fifteen years ago this summer, a movie hit theaters about a man with a below average intelligence who lives an above average life. Forrest Gump was the biggest movie of 1994, won the Oscar for Best Picture, and it is still entertaining to watch today.

When someone would ask Forrest, “Are you stupid or somethin’,” he would politely answer, “Stupid is as stupid does, sir.”

I have to admit that years passed before I mentioned to my dad that I really didn’t know what those words meant, which made me feel pretty stupid, but then my father taught me. “Stupid is as stupid does” means that even if you’re very intelligent, if you do foolish things, then you’re a fool. On the other hand, if you’re not that bright (like Forrest), but you act with wisdom (like Forrest did), then you are wise.

You can see this illustrated in the lives of Forrest’s friends: Jenny and Lt. Dan. They both have I.Q.’s well above Forrest’s, but they waste many years of their lives on foolishness. Lt. Dan isolates himself in the big city. He’s lost in bitter, alcoholic, self-indulgence. Jenny, goes out wandering far and wide to find happiness. She’s lost exploring all the romantic and chemical imposters of happiness. But, what eventually saves them both, what brings them both back, is Forrest’s steadfast love for them; his loving and generous gift of himself.

Forrest didn’t realize it, but his love was drawing his friends to wisdom and life. He’s like Lady Wisdom in the first reading. She joyfully calls and welcomes everyone to her feast:

“Let whoever is simple turn in here;
To the one who lacks understanding, she says,
Come, eat of my food, and drink of the wine I have mixed!
Forsake foolishness that you may live;
advance, in the way of understanding.”

Wisdom speaks to us today, but where is this meal prepared for us?

Before answering that, we first turn to today’s Gospel, where Jesus tells the people that they must eat his flesh and drink His blood. And He really means it too. In relating the teaching of Jesus today, John’s Gospel employs a Greek word over and over again, which is translated for us as “to eat” or “to feed.” However, the word’s meaning in the Greek is more literal than that; it means “to munch” or “to gnaw.” Therefore, more accurate translations of Jesus’ words would be this:

“Whoever ‘munches’ my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him,” and, “Whoever ‘gnaws’ my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him on the last day.”

The meal where we do this, is here, at the Mass. At Mass we truly receive, alive and whole, the body, blood, soul, and divinity of Jesus Christ.

Where is wisdom’s feast for us? It is here, at the Mass. At Mass we grow in wisdom whenever we worthily receive the Eucharistic Christ, because when we receive Him, we become more like Him. As Jesus says, “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him.” We also grow in wisdom at Mass by hearing God’s teachings, through the Scriptures and the preaching we hear.

But something that you may never have ever realized, something you may never have been told, is that we can also grow in wisdom at Mass through witnessing the example of Jesus Christ set before us. At the Last Supper, Jesus offers up His body and blood, and tells His disciples, “Do this in remembrance of me.” He wants us to do what He is doing. This means that we are not only to continue celebrating the Mass until He comes again. We are to imitate, in our own lives, the sacrifice we see.

We are all called to steadfast love, for God and for other people, by making a loving, and generous gift of ourselves each day for them. Christ commands us to make a sacrificial offering of ourselves for those we work for, for those we care for, for those we love, for those we happen to be around, for Him and for all people. By this sacrifice, our sacrifice united with Christ’s own sacrifice, we will be saved, and we will help to save others, too, by drawing them to wisdom and life.

As Forrest Gump would say, “You don’t have to be a smart man to know what love is.” At Mass, Jesus teaches us wisdom; He shows us what love looks like.

18th Sunday in Ordinary Time—Year B

August 17, 2009

We humans are forgetful creatures. Look at the Hebrews, running short on food and patience in the first reading. It’s only one month since they’ve walked freely out of Egypt; after ten miraculous plagues, after the parting of a sea before them, after the total destruction of their enemies behind them. It’s just one month later and they’ve already forgotten God’s desire and creative ability to care for them. They’ve forgotten, and their hope is gone.

In the Gospel there’s more forgetfulness.  The people come to Jesus and they ask Him, “What sign can you do, that we may see and believe in you?  What can you do?” Have they already forgotten about His recent miraculous sign, how just the other day he multiplied loaves and fish for them?  Recalling that miracle to mind would have strengthened their faith and hope.

We’re forgetful too. I, for example, often have a problem remembering how the responsorial psalm goes.  I hear it, I repeat it, and then it’s gone. We’re forgetful people. For instance, can you remember what I preached about the last Sunday I was here? I wouldn’t expect you to.

I spoke about how we should be hopeful because of Jesus Christ. I also strongly emphasized the importance of each of us to pray every day. This morning I want to teach you how we can be strengthened in faith and hope by recalling in prayer our most grace-filled memories.

Maybe you pray as the first thing when you wake up. Maybe you pray before you go to bed each night. Maybe you pray while you’re driving, perhaps imagining Jesus or Mary in the seat beside you. Maybe you make a daily visit to Jesus here really present in our tabernacle. When and where you pray each day is not as important as the prayers you offer and the connection and consolation that Christ wants to give you.

Anyone who prays frequently will have times when they sometimes seem to wander about in a desert of unfocused thoughts. By an act of will, we can try digging a hole here or there, looking for new, fresh, spiritual water. But there is an easier way to go about things when our prayer time feels hard and dry.

If we search our memories we can find places and times when God was obviously close and active. Perhaps a time when He silently but clearly spoke to you, or a time when He provided for you in answer to your prayers. Perhaps the births of your children or day you got married are moments that perceivably touched the eternal.

These memories can be wellsprings of grace and consolation for you. Just because we have left a well behind in your past doesn’t mean that well is run dry. What was true then, is still true now and you can go back their in your memories and draw graces from it again. Our grace-filled memories can serve as an anchor of hope, our ever-accessible source for faith and hope in prayer.

There is one more thing I on which I want to speak.  Our psalm said today:

“What we have heard and know, and what our fathers have declared to us, We will declare to the generation to come the glorious deeds of the LORD and his strength and the wonders that he wrought.”

This psalm is not only written for the Old Testament Jews, its meant for us as well. And when it mentions “fathers” here, priests like me are not the fathers it has foremost in mind. Fathers, if your children only hear about God from me, your silence will speak a message to them. It is important that you be a spiritual leader for your family and tell the stories of our faith and of your faith.

Parents, have you ever told your children of “the glorious deeds” that the Lord has done for you? If not, why not? Do you feel reluctant to tell? Or do you think that there is nothing to tell? Either way, a change needs to happen.

So remember, whether you are dry at prayer, or raising children for the Lord, remember to remember.

16th Sunday in Ordinary Time—Year B

August 17, 2009

Their boat set out for a deserted place along the Sea of Galilee. But the word got out and lots of people “hastened” there, that is, they eagerly ran on foot, and arrived there faster than Jesus and the apostles could.

Why did those people run? They ran because they anticipated good things. They ran because they believed their desires would be fulfilled. In a word, they ran because Jesus and the Apostles had given them hope.

What can we hope for as Christians? Can we hope that if we stay close to Christ and to His Church that we’ll go to heaven someday?   Yes.  But is that all there is?  No. Our hope in Christ is not only for the time beginning once we’ve died.

Moments ago we heard Psalm 23, a psalm commonly heard at funerals. Though we tend to associate it with the holy dead, the blessings this psalm speaks of are for the living as well. For example, in the Gospel, Jesus leads the Apostles to a place beside restful waters to refresh their souls. He teaches the vast crowds that come many things, guiding them in right paths, and giving them courage. He has the people lay upon the green grass and, breaking bread, He spreads a meal before them.

We can confidently hope that Jesus will do these things for us.

Jesus wants to give you peace.  But what is peace? It means, in part, being liberated from worthless worry, having anxiety at all. As Christ inspired St. Paul to write the Philippians,

“Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God.  Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”

Jesus wants to teach you wisdom, and give you the courage you need to live it. Jesus Christ, teaching through our Church and its Scriptures, proclaims to you truths that the world doesn’t know and isn’t going to teach you. Jesus not only tells you how to live well but empowers you to do it too through the Holy Spirit alive within you.

Jesus wants to give you the bread you need. In a few moments, you will be receiving the body, blood, soul, and divinity of Jesus Christ in His Eucharist. And in addition to that, Jesus doesn’t only provide for you on this one day at Church. He provides for us all week long in the world out there. We pray for “daily bread”, and this is not just food, but whatever it is we need. Christ is rich, and wants to give you good things. If we a frugal and generous, He will provide us with whatever we need.

There is a lot of hopelessness about our times and the way things are headed, but we Christians should live with hope about our lives and about the world we live in. Now bad things are going to happen, but with Christ, a more glorious resurrection always follows the cross. With this truth in mind, we should be a people of hope.

At the same time, we should be wary of unchristian hopes, which are too worldly. Consider the crowds that eagerly flocked to Jesus. They held hope in this world because of Him. Unfortunately, their hope was often because they thought Jesus might become some militant, revolutionary messiah, who would ascend to the throne of David by slaying the Roman armies that occupied Israel. They were invested in hopes that he would establish a kingdom for Israel that would provide them with cheap food and easy money for the rest of their lives. John’s Gospel says that after the miracle of the loaves they wanted to carry Jesus off and make him king. The people wanted change, but Jesus wasn’t interested in their kind of change. Jesus knew that changing this world would be ultimately fruitless, unless we ourselves could first somehow be changed.

Our world is broken, but man is more broken more by sin. Give two sisters identical dolls, or give two brothers identical trucks, and a short time later you might come back to find them fighting over the exact same toy. Even if you handed everyone on earth everything they wanted, there would not be peace. The problem isn’t out there somewhere, the problems always in here. Money can do good things, but wealth in not our salvation. Good laws can help people, but politics are not our salvation. Christ is our salvation.

Christ is real and active with power in the world out there, but He tends to work from the inside-out.  That is to say, the kind of change that He is interested in usually begins within souls, like ours. Christ first changes Christians, and then through us, He transforms the world.

He wants to give us trusting peace inside, so we can live with freedom. He wants to give us contentment inside, as the antidote for our over-consumption. But first and foremost of all, He wants to give you prayer inside.

If you only hear one thing I say, this is the final and most important thing: A Christian has to pray, every single day. Daily prayer is the means to our conversion. Daily prayer is the first step to transforming our world. Daily prayer is the key to realizing our hopes, for this life and the next.

Christ has good things He wants to give you. So run to Him, with eager hope.

Tuesday, 19th Week in Ordinary Time—Year I

August 17, 2009

The disciples ask, “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” Jesus says, “Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the Kingdom of heaven.” In fact, Jesus teaches us, becoming humble is essential to entering into His kingdom.

So what is humility?

“Now humility is nothing but truth,” says St. Vincent de Paul, “while pride is nothing but lying.” He says, “The reason why God is so great a lover of humility,  is because he is the great lover of truth.”

Now humility is not about believing we are garbage. It’s a lie to say we’re of little worth. Even the seemingly least person among us is attended to by angels and bears a likeness to the God whom those angels ceaselessly worship. We are of great worth, but to be humble we need to know where our true treasure is.

We must abandon over-confidence in our own faulty and limited powers and trust in our reliable Rock—“how faultless are his deeds, how right all his ways.” In Christ, our Rock, we are secure; and as G.K. Chesterton notes, “It is always the secure who are humble.”

To strip away our illusions and to know our true treasure let’s pray today for the two gifts which it is said God always promptly gives whenever we prayer for them: Humility and Faith.

We can be leery of praying for humility, because when you pray for humility, humility shows up. I myself cannot recall a time when my prayer for humility was not answered by the end of the next day. But let’s have courage, and not allow our entry into Christ’s Kingdom be delayed by our disordered self-love or timidity.

What Moses said before the Israelites on the edge of the Promised Land is just as true for us: “It is the Lord who marches before you; he will be with you and will never fail you.  So do not fear or be dismayed.”

Thursday, 19th Week in Ordinary Time—Year I

August 17, 2009

Today we heard the parable of the debt-ridden servant. You and I, of course, are the first servant with the unpayable debt. The debt of our sins. And the Lord, our King, has taken the loss, upon Himself, to gratuitously forgive our debt. But, at our judgment, He will receive important testimony about how we have treated those who have owed us much lesser personal debts.

This is why some Christians pray, “forgive us our debts and we forgive our debtors,” while we pray, “forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

Who is it that you’re not sure you’ve forgiven?

Remember this:  To forgive another’s sin is not to say that the wrong wasn’t wrong, and it is not trying convince yourself that the hurt doesn’t hurt. If you can pray for the good of your offenders, you have a forgiving heart.

Wednesday, 18th Week in Ordinary Time—Year I

August 17, 2009

St. Therese of Lisieux says, “We obtain from [God] as much as we hope for.” Today’s readings show this to be true.

On the very edge of Canaan, the Promised Land, the Hebrews lose all hope, and thereby they lose the land that the Lord wanted to give them. The Lord wanted to fight along their side, but they became so discouraged that they were unwilling to even go to the battle. They obtained from God as much as they hoped for, and died in the desert. They gave Lord nothing to work with, and there was nothing for the Lord to do but to let others to take their place.

The Canaanite woman in the Gospel is another story. She hopes against hope, and wins from our seemingly reluctant Lord her daughter’s healing. St. John of the Cross says: “The more the soul hopes, the more it attains.”

So let’s be bold.  Let’s hope and strive for bigger things than we do already. And let’s see how much the Lord can do with what we offer Him.