Archive for the ‘Parables’ Category

The Rich Fool — 18th Sunday in Ordinary Time—Year C

August 12, 2010

I regret to inform you that you are going to die. Perhaps not today, but someday, and it could be very soon. We should ask ourselves, “Am I ready? How can I prepare?”

The Gospel relates the story of a man who was not ready, a man God calls a “fool.” Jesus offers Him as an anti-role model; a person whose example we should learn from, but not imitate. Yes, he is a fool for hoarding his possessions. The old saying is true, “You can’t take it with you.” But there are more subtle lessons we can learn from his bad example. This morning I would like to present three things this rich man has to teach us:

The first lesson comes from what he does when his land produces a bountiful harvest. He asks himself, “What shall I do?” There is nothing wrong with this question in itself, but he is a fool in the way he asks it. The rich man asks himself, and only himself, “What shall I do?” He does not consult with God, in either his conscience or in prayer, to learn what His will is.

What is the lesson here for us?  Let us remember to listen to the Lord as He speaks in our conscience, through prayer, the Scriptures, and the people He has placed in our lives. We should listen for God’s direction every day, and throughout each day.

A second cautionary lesson is found in the rich man’s plan for solving his storage problem. He says, “This is what I shall do: I shall tear down my barns and build larger ones.” What was wrong with the older barns? They were not large enough to hold everything, but why tear them down? The rich man has plenty of land. Why did he want to replace his perfectly good barns?

Vanity of vanities, he wanted his storehouses to be the newest, the biggest, and the best. Though the rich man was not very concerned about other people, he was very concerned about their high opinion of him. Even in those days, people were tempted to consumerism.

Consumerism seems to consist in two phantom promises: that having just a little more will truly give me lasting happiness, and that others will regard, accept, and love me when they notice the things that I have. These are phantom promises, for as soon as one reaches to grasp them they prove empty, illusory, receding further out of reach.

The fact is that the people who are happiest in life are not the wealthiest. (By that measure, pretty much every American should be among the happiest people in the world.) The happiest people tend to be those who share the most or give the most away. The person who recognizes they have enough, that life does not consist in possessions, is content and secure enough to share. Some people try to get the most out of life as possible, but what we appreciate most in our lives is the ways in which we have given of ourselves for others.

Our third cautionary lesson is heard in God’s rebuke of the man: “You fool, this night your life will be demanded of you; and the things you have prepared, to whom will they belong?” When we think of the things the rich man has prepared, we think of his harvest and goods.  One of the things he has ill-prepared… is his soul, which this night will be demanded of him. And now, to whom will it belong?

The lesson here for us?  As focused as we are upon our possessions, we must be more attentive to our souls. Someday, we are going to die. In the meantime, then, let us put to death, the parts of you that are earthly, as St. Paul said: immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and the greed that is idolatry.

What lessons does the rich man teach us? Reject the false promises of the consumer cult, for life does not consist in possessions. (Self-gift is the meaning of life) Turn your heart to your spiritual well-being, for your life and this world shall pass away.  And to frequently ask Jesus, everyday, “What shall I do?” Let us begin today, before it is too late for us to begin living wisely.

The Kingdom is Like… — Monday, 17th Week in Ordinary Time—Year II

July 26, 2010

Jesus says the Kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed sown in a field, or like some yeast worked into three measures of dough. These passages are usually taken to describe how the Church, or the Christian faith, despite small beginnings, has spread and transformed the entire world for the better. This is a valid interpretation, but the Kingdom of heaven is not only an external reality; it is internally and personally experienced. Since the Scriptures are written not only by human authors, but by the Holy Spirit as well, every passage contains more than one true interpretation. Jesus’ similies also describe faith in the life of individual Christians.

At the beginning of one’s discipleship, the seed of faith is small and vulnerable. Any challenge or trial, any passing bird, can potentially come along and consume it. This seed of faith must be guarded, watered, and given light. This means vigilence, education, and contact with Christ in prayer and the sacraments. In time, faith grows to the point that trials and challenges are no longer a grave threat, but calmly accepted.

The faith of the Christian is also like yeast which is not meant to be merely kept in a jar in on the shelf, segregated to Church or private life. It is meant to be mixed into the whole of life; at home, at work, and everywhere, so that the entire batch of life will be transformed and raised.

If your faith is young and fledging, or a confined and isolated part of your life, be encouraged by the hope these passages promise. The Kingdom of God is at hand for you.

We’re Inn-Keepers — 15th Sunday in Ordinary Time—Year C

July 18, 2010

The “Good Samaritan” is a very familiar parable, but there remains much for us to learn from it. Today I will present the history, the context, behind it; the symbolic meaning contained within it; and the challenge to ourselves that comes out of it.

Jesus’ story begins, “A man fell victim to robbers as he went down from Jerusalem to Jericho.” From this we might think that Jericho is south of Jerusalem because we put the South at the bottom of our maps. Yet, Jericho is actually some twenty miles to northeast of Jerusalem. The reason why the man went down from Jerusalem is that Jerusalem is situated 2,550 feet above sea level, while Jericho is about 1,200 feet below sea level, near the Dead Sea, which is the lowest place on the surface of the earth.

Jerusalem was the city of the temple, the place of God’s dwelling. Jericho, you may remember, was the city which Joshua and the Hebrews marched around for seven days, before blowing their horns and shouting, causing the walls to fall down. They conquered the city because it was in rebellion with God.

“The [robbers] stripped and beat [the man] and went off leaving him half-dead. A priest happened to be going down that road,
but when he saw him, he passed by on the opposite side. Likewise a Levite came to the place, and when he saw him, he passed by on the opposite side.”

You know what a priest is. He is one who offers sacrifice. What is a Levite? They were like acolytes or altar servers; they helped the priest offer the sacrifices at the temple. Why did they both pass by ‘on the opposite side?’ Maybe that they thought the man was already dead and wanted to avoid ritual impurity. The Mosaic Law taught that contact with a dead body made one ritually impure and ritual purity was necessary to worship at the temple. Whether this was their reason, or whether they just did not care enough to be bothered, another comes along who is both willing and able to help.

“…A Samaritan traveler who came upon him and was moved with compassion at the sight.” Who are these Samaritans? We hear about them in the Gospels and we know they didn’t get along with the Jews. For instance, the woman at the well that Jesus meets in John was a Samaritan. Where do they come from?

Some five hundred years before the coming of Christ the Babylonians were the superpower of the ancient world. When the king in Jerusalem decided he was not going to pay tribute to Babylon anymore, the king of Babylon was not pleased. He sieged Jerusalem, conquered it, and carried the region’s inhabitants into what is called the Babylonian Exile. Not everyone was taken though; some of the poor, the farmers and the vine-dressers, were left behind. To ensure that the people did not rebel again, and to make sure that the land did not go to waste, the Babylonians settled five pagan nations in the land.

Seventy years later, after the Babylonians had been conquered by the Persians, the new king gave the Jews permission to return to their homeland. When they got there they found that the people who had remained behind had intermarried with the pagans, in both their families and religion. The Jews regarded these people, these Samaritans, as unfaithful to the Lord. It is no coincidence that the Samaritan woman at the well had had five husbands.

Jesus chooses a Samaritan as the protagonist, the hero, of his story. He does this to show us an example we are to follow. The Samaritan was not Jewish victim’s neighbor geography, for he was only a traveler to the region, nor was he related to him by blood, nor by prior friendship. In the same way, our neighbors are not to be only those who are close to us in distance, are in our family, or who have shown kindness to us. Everyone is to be our neighbor. Such is the meaning of the parable in its historical context, but contained within this story there is Christian symbolism, as well.

The man who fell to the robbers is you and I, this man represents all mankind. Traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho, we were descending from the height of communion with God to the depths of rebellion. We fell to robbers, to evil spirits and evil desire. These stripped us naked, depriving of our original honor and glory. They beat us and left us half-dead; biologically we still lived, but spiritually we were dead. No one could or would help us. But then the Good Samaritan came. This man is Jesus Christ.

He looked upon us and was moved with compassion. Jesus approached to us and poured His blood on us, like wine, to cleanse the wounds of our sin. He poured the Holy Spirit on us like oil to make us strong again. Jesus gave us his teachings and commandments as bandages for our wounds. These disciplines bind us, yet they free us through the health they provide. Jesus lifted us up on his own animal.  This beast of burden was his own flesh. He took us to the inn, which is the Church, and here He continues to care and provide for us in it until the time of His return.

Even though the man who fell to the robbers is meant to symbolize each one of us, I don’t think he is the character in this story with whom we can most identify ourselves. The character I have in mind is one everyone overlooks. I don’t mean the Good Samaritan, nor the priest or the Levite. The character I’m thinking of is the inn-keeper, who is only mentioned in passing.

Here’s all that Jesus tells us about the inn-keeper: “The next day [the Good Samaritan] took out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper with the instruction, ‘Take care of him. If you spend more than what I have given you, I shall repay you on my way back.’”

Most of us here entered into the Catholic Church when we were baptized as infants. So we don’t remember being brought into the Church, half-dead.  For us, it feels like this inn has always been our home. This is where we have lived and worked for as long as we can remember. So I think we may identify more with the inn-keeper, more then the victim who has been gratefully saved. With this comes a challenge for our lives.

We are like the inn-keeper.  We are comfortably at home, and business is good. The Samaritan brings in this guy like a sack of potatoes, buys a room and takes care of him. That’s fine with us, but this Samaritan guy comes along and instructs us to take care of this friend of His. Now he is shifting that job onto us. Sure he’s given us some coin for doing it, two silver denarii, the sum of two day’s wages, and he says that if we spend more than what he has given he will repay us on his way back, but do I really want this hassle?

Besides, is that Samaritan fellow really coming back?  If not, then the more I give caring for this invalid the less I’ll have left for myself. If I’m stuck with the bill for this guy and his friend, them I’ll feel like a fool. On the other hand, if I just toss the guy out of my inn, or just ignore him while he’s here, that’s two day’s profit for me guaranteed. If I just pretend that I never heard that Samaritan’s instructions, if I can just quiet my conscience, I’ll get along just fine.

I’m busy enough as it is already. Is playing nurse to this crime statistic really worth my time? Do I trust that Samaritan? Do I believe he is he truly good?  Do I believe he is really coming back? Jesus is the Good Samaritan, and he brings many people to our lives and asks us to take care of them in our inn. Are you living as though Jesus is really coming back to repay each of us according to our deeds, or are you just minding your own business?

Everything you have comes from Jesus, and everything you have belongs to Him.  He is entitled to your time, talents, and treasure and He wants you to share them with your neighbors. Do not fear, don’t be afraid. The truth is that you can never spend more than what He has given you. Act with confidence that He will repay you an amount far greater than you give, not only at the end of your life, but even by the end of the day.

Jesus Christ’s command which He “enjoin[s] on you today is not too mysterious and remote for you. …No, it is something very near to you, already in your mouths and in your hearts; you have only to carry it out.” You shall love your neighbor as yourself.

The Miraculous Pool — Tuesday, 4th Week of Easter

April 28, 2010

Once upon a time, in a certain forest clearing, there was a miraculous (and strange) pool of water. The pool’s waters’ were miraculous, having unique healing and life-giving properties, but something else made this pool strange. When travelers would come upon it, the pool would appear differently depending on how the person approached it.

For those who expected to find something remarkable, the pool was large and deep, and drinking its waters was powerful. But for those who came expecting little or nothing (and there were many such people,) the pool had the appearance of a small, cloudy puddle, and they would not drink from it.

      

Why did so many come expecting so little, and walk away unchanged? Maybe they had passed by that clearing a hundred times before; and, never expecting much, never had found very much. Maybe they dismissed the whole idea as superstition, as an old myth. Maybe they had never seen evidence that this pool was any better than any other because the people whose lives had been changed by its waters were too timid to give a strong witness to its power and reality.

Now we come to the point of this parable of mine. Encountering our Catholic Faith, the Mass, and the Scriptures is a lot like encountering this miraculous pool. When we expect much, we find much, and receive a great deal. And when we expect to get nothing from them, the usually meet our expectations.

I believe our Catholic Faith is a miraculous pool with the power to change everything. Walking in Christian faithfulness is hard for everyone at times, but I have seen too much, firsthand and from others’ experiences, ever to walk away from Christ and His Church. I have forsaken all other paths for my one life because I am convinced that our Faith, the Mass, and the Scriptures are true, and powerful, and good. Yet even I often need to remind myself not to settle, but to go more deeply and prayerfully into these dangerously familiar things. And when I do, I receive more. I think we all need to receive more. So, in the weeks ahead, I’m going to teach, through pre-Mass talks like this one, or through homilies during Mass, about ways to drink from the miraculous pool to our greater benefit.

For this morning’s Mass, I have four suggestions:

1.  Pray to the Holy Spirit for a more expectant and receptive heart.
2. Form a Mass intention to pray for during the Eucharistic prayer.
3. During the psalm, try to find the Virgin Mary or the Church in it.
4. Listen to Jesus speak to you in the Gospel for He will be speaking to you through His word.

 Let us approach this miraculous pool expectantly.

The Prodigal Son — 4th Sunday in Lent—Year C

March 14, 2010

If today happens to be your first time coming back to church in a long time, then take today’s gospel as a sign. God our Father is incredibly merciful and He welcomes you home with a loving embrace.

But most of us here, I suspect, came to Mass last week, and the week before that, because you always come every week. If so, then you probably hear this familiar parable of the Prodigal (that is, squandering) Son and wonder where you fit into the story. When you look at yourself I bet you can honestly say that you’re not living a life of great dissipation like the younger son, and the idea of a sinner being reconciled with God makes you genuinely happy, not bitter, like the older son or the Pharisees. So what does this story have to teach those of us who are doing a lot more right than we’re doing wrong?

First, let’s look at the younger, prodigal son. He goes to his father and says, “Father, give me the share of your estate that should come to me.” Here, he is asking for his inheritance while his father is still alive. He is basically saying, “I don’t want to share my life with you,” and then he demonstrates it a few days later by setting off to a distant country. There he squanders his inheritance on a life of dissipation, but after he has freely spent everything, he finds himself in dire need. What he thought would make him happy left him disappointed in the end.

Sure, we’re not professional, all-star sinners like the prodigal son, but we act like him in many little ways in our daily lives. The prodigal son asked his father for something which was not his and which he had no right to take (while his father is still alive.) Whenever we live as if our lives were our own, as if our lives did not come from God and do not belong to God, our Father, we say to Him, “I don’t want to share my life with you.”

Though our small and venial sins only hinder or wound our relationship with God, in every sin we turn our backs and set off for awhile to a distant country. Whenever we insist upon it, God permits us to freely spend our lives in squandering ways, in ways which we think will make us happy but which disappointing us in the end. When we return to our Father, He forgives our sins and welcomes us back, but you and I must learn to stop trying to live our lives without sharing them completely with God.

Why are we afraid of the idea of doing what God wants us to do every moment of our day? I think we are afraid that doing God’s will won’t really make us happy. Maybe we imagine that doing God’s will means we will have to pray ten hours a day at church or walk around wearing a burlap outfit. Of course that’s crazy. God probably wants you to live the same life you are living now, but with some minor adjustments, and more closely to Him.

Maybe we are afraid to give ourselves completely to God because we are a lot like the other, older, more faithful son in the parable. We have served our Father for years without ever asking or expecting much for ourselves. But working hard for God without ever experiencing His good gifts and joys does not make us holy; over time it makes us angry and embittered, like the older son who never asked for anything. We start to think of our Father, not as our father, but as a slave master. But our Father says to us today, “My child, you are here with me always; everything I have is yours.”

“Taste and see the goodness of the Lord,” as our psalm said. Do not let your face blush with shame at asking for good things for you and your friends to enjoy. When we are poor and call out the Lord hears us, and He will save us from all our distress. So look to God, and be radiant with joy.

We’ve learned important lessons from both of the sons in this parable, and I hope we will put them into practice.

From the faithful but disgruntled son, we learned the importance of asking for good things from God. So today, at this Mass, ask our Father to surprise you today with some good gift that you’ll enjoy. Then watch to see what He does for you.

From the prodigal son we learned the importance of living with and for God every day of our lives. So tomorrow morning, when you wake up and you’re lying in bed, make the sign of the cross and entrust yourself to God for that day, that you may live your life that day always with Him and for Him. Ask you guardian angel to remind you and I bet you will remember.  Try it, and I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised by the difference it makes in your day.

For an Extraordinary Marriage — Wedding of Andrew and Laura Foreki

March 3, 2010

I would like to begin this homily today by sharing with you the extraordinary story of how this boy, Andrew, met this girl, Laura. Picture Andrew, walking one morning across the University of Wisconsin campus in the deep cold of winter. He is on his way to Chadborn Hall where a prayer group is meeting for their twice-weekly 7:30 rosary. 

He walks into the room where the group is meeting and casts his eyes, for the very first time, upon a drowsy-eyed coed named Laura. And can you guess what Andrew said to himself when his eyes saw Laura for the very first time? That’s right. He said to himself, “Oh, I don’t know who that is.” This reaction, of course, is to be expected, since Andrew and Laura didn’t know each other prior to being introduced a few moments later.

Now Andrew’s first impression is not what makes this an extraordinary story. Did you notice what was the extra-ordinary part? Here it is: Here we have two college students, getting up, out of warm beds, on a cold day, to pray a rosary, at 7:30 in the morning! Now, you have to understand, in College Student Time, this is like getting up at 4:30 AM. Your typical college student doesn’t get up any earlier than he has to, but these two got up… to pray. For this and a thousand other reasons, I think you will all agree with me, that we have here two extra-ordinary people, from whom we good reason to expect an extraordinary marriage.

Do you two want to ensure you share an extraordinary marriage together? Then there are three things that I, as an ordained servant of Jesus Christ, believe that you should do.

First, like Tobit and his wife Sarah in our first reading, you should pray together. Of course you must pray individually. And of course you must pray with your children once they come. But you also need to pray together. It doesn’t need to be anything complicated.  Just hold each others’ hands a few moments before you part for work, or stand, or kneel, at your bedside, like Tobit and Sarah did, and speak aloud from your hearts to God. Ask blessings for each other, and give thanks for all the blessing you have received, and close you prayer by saying, “Amen, amen.”

Some couples find this kind of prayer too intimidating, or too personal, to be attempted; for our prayers express our most intimate selves, our fears, our hopes, our pains, our joys, our deepest longings. If you pray honestly in this way, nothing will be hidden between you. Today you will vow to give yourselves completely to each other. Do you want to be truly and totally one? Then pray together. Through marriage you will share of one flesh, if but pray together and you will also share of one spirit. Pray together and you will share an extraordinary marriage as one flesh with one soul. So please, pray together.

The second thing you should do for an extraordinary marriage is to come to Mass. Come to Mass every Sunday and every holy day of obligation. Come, and be moved by the beauty of architecture and songs. Come, and be strengthened by the experience of Christian fellowship. Come, and be inspired by the eloquence of Gospel preaching.

No doubt some people hear this and think to themselves, “That sounds great… But our church is ugly and the songs are dumb and hard to sing. And our community is little more than a gathering of strangers. And our priest always gives the same boring homilies.” Which all boils down to saying, I just don’t get anything out of going to Mass. Then hear this, even if everything else is lacking at Mass, Jesus Christ is always here for us, Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity in the Eucharist. At Mass, the one sacrifice of Calvary and the Last Supper are made truly present to us for us to receive their power.

At Mass Jesus Christ shows us the perfect spousal love that He calls each of us to imitate. Jesus never called himself “the bachelor.” No, He joyfully called himself “the bridegroom” and eagerly seeks to unite himself to His bride. On the cross, naked without shame, He consummates this union with her, giving himself freely, fully, fruitfully, and forever… freely, fully, fruitfully, and forever. Do you want your union with each other to be free, fully, fruitful, and forever? Then come to Mass to learn the pattern of how Christ loves us and draw from the power He offers us through communion with Him. His is the pattern and the power for an extraordinary marriage. So please, come to Mass.

The third and final thing you should do for an extraordinary marriage is to be salt and light in the world. What does this mean? Being salt and light means that your Christianity should show. As Jesus says, “Your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father.”

Your good deeds should stand out in the world. As St. Paul says in the second reading, “Do not conform yourselves to this age, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind” If the world never judges you to be radical in any aspect of your Christian life, then you’re not doing it right. Then you’re not yet living as salt and light–you’re not yet living like the saints. For example, everyone loves their friends, but who loves their enemies and prayers for them? Most people pray, but who spends a long time to be with God every day. Many people can give when times are prosperous, but who gives generously when times are tight? Such things as this are what it means to be the light and the salt of the world. Light is different than the darkness, and salt makes the ordinary flavorful.

Clearly, you two are salt and light already, for who goes on weekend retreats to know God better? Or who drives to Washington D.C. to march for life? Or who goes down to Louisiana to volunteer for Hurricane relief? Or who get up at 7:30 in the morning to pray the Rosary? So, please keep on being salt and light, and your marriage will be extraordinary.

Years from now, I don’t expect that you will remember much from this homily, but I hope you remember these three things: Pray together, come to Mass, and be salt and light and you will have an extraordinary marriage.

[Preached as a deacon for my sister’s wedding,  November 22, 2008]

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.

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.

A Weird Passage — Wednesday, 3rd Week in Ordinary Time—Year II

January 28, 2010

“Focus on the weird.”  That’s advice I heard that a homiletics professor once gave. “Focusing on the weird part of the readings in preparing one’s homily leads to the unlocking of mysteries. Besides, it’s what the people are most likely to be distracted thinking about during your homily anyways.” (This is a good rule of thumb for one’s personal Bible studies too.) So what’s the weird part about today’s readings? It comes in Jesus’ private answer to the disciples about His parables:

“The mystery of the Kingdom of God has been granted to you. But to those outside everything comes in parables, so that they may look and see but not perceive, and hear and listen but not understand, in order that they may not be converted and be forgiven.”

Does Jesus really teach in parables so that the crowd will not understand?  Why teach them if you don’t want them to learn? And why would Jesus want to be misunderstood by people “in order that they may not be converted and be forgiven”? Doesn’t He want all to be saved?

Jesus spoke in parables because it allowed those with open minds and hearts to understand Him, while serving as a defense against his hostile critics (who had appeared in Mark’s Gospel just before this scene.) Those who were open to the truth would patiently ponder His imagery and come to understand.  Those who chose to be closed off to Jesus would dismissively discard His stories without comprehending. Jesus did not want to be too clear too soon with His enemies, for if He had spoken to them plainly about Himself and His mission they might have moved to kill Him too early for God’s plan to unfold fully.

Did Jesus speak in parables with His enemies “in order that they may not be converted and be forgiven.” Surely not, for Jesus wills the salvation of all. The choice not to be converted and forgiven lays at their own feet. They themselves choose not to be open, not to understand, “in order that they may not be converted and be forgiven.”

Are we open to Jesus’ message and will for us? We sometimes say that we wish that Jesus would be more clear about His will for our lives. Could it be that the reason Jesus doesn’t lay out His will for us plainly is that He knows we would simply answer “No” to His wishes? If we want to understand and respond to Jesus’ will for us in big things, we need to practice responding to His will for us in small, everyday things.

We need to turn off the TV or internet when He tells us we’re wasting our time. We need to respond to His invitations to prayer. We need to show patience and kindness with all the people He has placed in our day-to-day lives. If we are faithful in small matters then He will trust us to be faithful in big ones; we will hear His words, receive them with joy, and bear fruit thirty and sixty and a hundredfold.

Tuesday, 3rd Week of Advent

December 16, 2009

Is it more important to say the right thing, or to do the right thing? As people like to say “Talk is cheap,” but “Actions speak louder than words.”

Some Christians say that if we merely confess Jesus Christ as our personal Lord and Savior then we are assuredly saved. But Jesus Himself says that ‘not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven.

It is easy to feel righteous like the chief priests and the elders if we subscribe to the right and enlightened opinions, but we should be humbled by the fact that scandalous sinners have turned to Christ and today harvest more fruit in the vineyard than we do.

We have to do more than talk a good game, we have to show up on the court. For example, you say you oppose the killing of the unborn? Good! But what are you doing to end it? Do you pray for mothers and their babies? Do you march for life?

You say that hatred between peoples should end. Absolutely! But is there someone here that you cannot bring yourself to pray for, or say “hello” to in the hallway?

You say that we must care for people in need. Indeed, and Jesus says the same. But do you give of your time, talent and spending cash until it hurts a bit, like an actual sacrifice?

If I were to end this homily here and now with an exhortation that you should go out into your world and to work hard for good in that vineyard, you might decide to listen and your life might change a little bit for a little while. But I would not expect your life change a great deal, unless you also respond to another calling; the calling from our Father that you work in another vineyard first. This vineyard is within you, it is an inner-vineyard. You work it alongside Christ in prayer and what you harvest from it is intimacy with God.  Of this encounter, St. Augustine wrote:

“Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new, late have I loved you!  You were within me, but I was outside, and it was there that I searched for you.  In my unloveliness I plunged into the lovely things which you created.  You were with me, but I was not with you.  Created things kept me from you; yet if they had not been in you they would not have been at all. You called, you shouted, and you broke through my deafness.  You flashed, you shone, and you dispelled my blindness.  You breathed your fragrance on me; I drew in breath and now I pant for you.  I have tasted you, now I hunger and thirst for more.  You touched me, and I burned for your peace.”

In the labor of prayer (and it does take a daily effort) you encounter God. He surprises you with gifts of consolation and peace, and you overflow with His love. This overflow is what makes the saints the saints. It is what makes their holy lives possible. The saints are not self-made men and women. Their cups runneth over within them, and it is from out of this abundance that they love the vineyard of the world and work in it for the better.

You say that you believe in God, and in Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior. So come to the work of prayer each day, or your devotion and service to God will remain forever little more than lip-service.

November 11 – Veterans Day

November 11, 2009

Pearl Merchant

In the Gospel today, Jesus describes the kingdom of heaven as being like a treasure buried in a dirt field, or like a ridiculously underpriced pearl in a market place. These are valuable things that take great personal sacrifice to obtain. Jesus’ lesson in this for us is that a wise person should be willing to trade away everything else they have, and do it joyfully, because of the desirability of what’s before them. So it is with the Kingdom of God.

But these parables are not only about us, and how we should go after God’s kingdom. They also tell about how God has sought after for us for His kingdom. The Lord saw us as the treasure buried in a field, the field being the world. He was like the pearl merchant, who saw us as a precious pearl whose great worth was unrealized by others. And out of love for us one could say that He joyfully sold everything that He had to possess us.

“For us men and for our salvation, He came down from heaven. 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. On the third day he rose again,” ‘giving us a new birth to a living hope through His resurrection.’ Through Christ’s poverty, He made us rich, giving us “an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for [us].”

Whenever something is truly valuable, it is worth one’s great personal sacrifice to possess it and to protect it. Today we are honoring those men and women who have done just that; who have made great personal sacrifices to serve our country in the military. Today is Veterans’ Day. While we would be mistaken to identify our country as being the kingdom of God, it would also be a mistake to dismiss the good our country and its veterans have done around the world.

We can we be so proud of our country’s veterans because they are true soldiers. As G.K. Chesterton said, “The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.” This is reflected in how we have treated those we have defeated. We forgive them, rebuild them, and let them have their freedom. We may need to fight some enemies, now and in the future, but we have no need to hate them. Our power is not in our hatred, but our love. In this we follow our model, Jesus Christ, who loved the world so much that sacrificed everything He had for it. And let us remember that He conquered the whole world for us without firing a single shot.

Thursday, 27th Week in Ordinary Time—Year I

October 8, 2009

In the illustration used by Jesus in the Gospel, a person goes to their neighbor’s house and calls inside for a needed favor. The father inside is not immediately obliging. The door’s locked and his sons and daughters are already at rest. But Jesus says, ‘…If the father does not get up… because of their friendship, he will get up to give him whatever he needs because of the person’s persistence.’

Why will the father end up doing the favor in the end? Because of the father’s children. Imagine all the kids in there, in the dark and in their beds, with the neighbor at the door, knocking: *pounding* “Daaad.” *more pounding* “Dad, do whatever they want!”

The father in this story stands for our Father in heaven, who can sometimes seem reluctant in answering our prayers. The children in the story are the saints in heaven, the sons and daughters who rest in the Father’s house. 

What is it like for the souls in heaven to hear our prayers? Perhaps the experience St. Faustina of the Divine Mercy on earth gives us a glimpse into the experience of the saints in heaven. In the Diary of St. Faustina, a book which I highly recommend for spiritual reading, the Polish nun records this:St. Faustina of the Divine Mercy

“It has happened to me for some time now that I immediately sense in my soul when someone is praying for me; and I likewise sense it in my soul when some soul asks me for prayer, even though they do not speak to me about it. The feeling is one of certain disquiet, as if someone were calling me; and when I pray I obtain peace.”

This reaction makes perfect sense, for how could a good person hear of another’s heartfelt needs and not insist that our Father act? Or how could a saint remain at rest while someone knocks at the door of heaven? Knowing this, how then should we pray? Imagine what doors would open for us, if only we would persist in knocking? Or imagine what gifts would we receive, if only we would try asking? So knock, and ask, boldly.

Wednesday, 20th Week in Ordinary Time—Year I

August 19, 2009

Today’s readings give us two lessons about service:

In the first reading we hear an allegory of the forest trees coming to their most prominent members, asking each one to lead them. But every tree declines, asking “why would I want to give up my comfortable glory to serve like that?” As a last resort, they ask the buckthorn tree. This last tree is something of a large bush, and not good for very much. The buckthorn agrees and rules as a tyrant over them.

What is the lesson for us here? If we Catholics are not willing to sacrifice our some of our comfortable glory for the social needs of others, we should expect bad things to come. As Pope Paul VI said, “If you want peace, work for justice.”

The second lesson is from the Gospel, where we hear the parable most likely to offend an American’s sense of justice. We hear that the last laborers work a little and receive the same pay as the first. But the landowner is right to say that he has robbed no one. The first laborers receive the full wage which they agreed was fair and just at the beginning of the day.

What is the lesson here for us in our service? Serving Christ is work, but it should not make us feel deprived.  It should make us feel enriched. If we come to the end of the day’s labors feeling bitterness at our Landlord we are in need of an open and honest conversation with Him.

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.