Joseph and Mary had such wonderful dreams and plans for the future. Following Jewish custom, they would be engaged for one year before living together as husband and wife. Then one day their dreams came crashing down because of two terrible facts: Mary was pregnant and it's wasn't Joseph's baby.
Joseph was filled with so many conflicting emotions and thoughts. Doubt, anger, hurt, resentment, confusion, betrayal, sadness and fear. Fear of what his family and friends would say when they found out. Fear of being thought a fool. Fear of being judged by religious leaders. Fear he had trusted and loved the wrong woman. But most of all, fear of what would happen to Mary when people found out. The Law of the Lord was clear. Such women must be stoned to death.
How many sleepless night did Joseph spend, tossing and turning, tortured by these thoughts and awful possibilities? Then he made up his mind to divorce her secretly so as not to expose her to the Law.
It was at this point that the angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and told him, "Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child within her is conceived by the Holy Spirit."
Joseph rose from his sleep and took Mary as his wife and the rest, as they say, is history.
As we prepare to celebrate Christ's birth, consider there are people in our church today whose dreams have been shattered and whose future is in doubt. Some of you may be angry, hurt, resentful, confused, sad and filled with fear. The gospel message for you today is the same as to Joseph and the same as to Mary, "Do not be afraid." You are exactly where God wants you to be and no matter what happens, God will be with you.
Do not be afraid of losing your job. Do not be afraid of losing your health. Do not be afraid of losing your life. God will be with you. This is the message of Christmas. This is the hope born in a manger in Bethlehem.
I have never been to Bethlehem, but I hope to go there someday. My friend and colleague, Father Joe Fedora, lives and works in Peru, in South America. He sent me a Christmas message two weeks with the good news. He said:
"Guess what? I´m going to Bethlehem and I´m planning on spending lots of time there! I’m traveling light; I can’t afford to be weighed down by things I won’t need. One carry-on should do it. Getting there shouldn’t be a problem; I’ve been there before and, besides, I’ve lots of angels and stars showing me the way. Once I arrive, I’m going to take off my shoes and maybe even kiss the ground. And then I´m off to the manger – the AIDS ward and soup kitchen and prison – to hang out with Jesus. I’m going to Bethlehem and don’t even have to leave Lima.
“When I was sick…
When I was hungry…
When I was in prison…”
(Mt.25:30-40)
Where will you be spending the Holidays?
May the angels and stars in your life show you the way to Bethlehem.
Merry Christmas!
Love, Joe
So as we prepare to celebrate Christmas and hope that all the parties and presents will take away whatever pain we may be feeling, remember Bethlehem is only a car, a bus or a subway ride away. A homeless shelter, an old folks home, a hospital. All these are the stable of Bethlehem because in all these Christ may be found.
And when you find Christ, or rather, once Christ finds you, you'll no longer be weighed down by fear. Do not be afraid to take Joseph, and Mary and Jesus into your hearts and into your homes. Do not be afraid. God is with you.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Myth Conceptions (Second Sunday of Advent, Year A)
Last week I spoke a little about the true meaning of the word "myth" and I want to go deeper into this today. As I mentioned, "myth" in popular usage is one step away from "fairy tale." But in a religious or sociological context, myths give our lives meaning and help us develop common goals based upon shared visions or dreams.
Even secular society needs and uses myths. The lofty words of our Declaration of Independence, stripped of myth language, would be basically "England, Get out!"
Instead, we read and recall with pride these patriotic phrases: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal and that they are endowed by the Creator with certain unalienable rights and among these rights are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness."
But this is pure myth! It is not evident that all men are created equal, as anyone who watches the evening news or drives through a poor neighborhood can attest. And while we wish our rights are "unalienable", we hear of people being deprived of their rights every day. And being created presupposes a Creator who endows us with these rights. The myth being since God granted these to humans, no person--let alone government---has the right to deprive people of them. Pure myth!
None of the above is scientific or provable, or it can be argued, even logical! But these secular myths resonate in our hearts and inspire us to strive and struggle to do and be better until such a vision is realized on this earth.
And we people of faith have access to a vast treasury of myths from which to draw inspiration and meaning. Take, for example, these beautiful words in our first reading from the prophet Isaiah 11:1-10
On that day, a shoot shall sprout from the stump of Jesse,
and from his roots a bud shall blossom.
The spirit of the LORD shall rest upon him:
a spirit of wisdom and of understanding,
a spirit of counsel and of strength,
a spirit of knowledge and of fear of the LORD,
and his delight shall be the fear of the LORD.
Not by appearance shall he judge,
nor by hearsay shall he decide,
but he shall judge the poor with justice,
and decide aright for the land’s afflicted.
He shall strike the ruthless with the rod of his mouth,
and with the breath of his lips he shall slay the wicked.
Justice shall be the band around his waist,
and faithfulness a belt upon his hips.
Then the wolf shall be a guest of the lamb,
and the leopard shall lie down with the kid;
the calf and the young lion shall browse together,
with a little child to guide them.
The cow and the bear shall be neighbors,
together their young shall rest;
the lion shall eat hay like the ox.
The baby shall play by the cobra’s den,
and the child lay his hand on the adder’s lair.
There shall be no harm or ruin on all my holy mountain;
for the earth shall be filled with knowledge of the LORD,
as water covers the sea.
On that day, the root of Jesse,
set up as a signal for the nations,
the Gentiles shall seek out,
for his dwelling shall be glorious.
These words still resonate within our hearts and give humans inspiration even after 2,700 years! They speak of a future toward which we can all aspire. Yes, the wolf and the lamb living peacefully together is surely a myth in its noblest sense, and one that humankind would be infinitely poorer without.
The promise and coming of the Messiah, along with the Exodus from Egypt, are powerful myths that have sustained the Jewish people for millennia. Indeed, without these myths to hold them together, they would never have survived the loss of Temple, monarchy, land and freedom. Their myths gave them their identity so they would never forget who they are or why they are here no matter what people did to them.
And we too celebrate our rich treasury of myths surrounding the birth of the one we hail as the Messiah, not just for the Jews but for people everywhere in the world. Advent is our season of waiting so we can enter into the spirit of our Jewish brothers and sisters to anticipate that no matter what happens to us or to our world we hold onto this promise from God for a better tomorrow.
It took 200 years for our country to realize its promise that all men and women are created equal. And it has taken us 2,000 years to live out the promises of Christ in the gospel. We have come far but we have so much more work to do. But thank God for our sacred myths that give us here on earth the visions of a heaven toward which to strive.
And so in answer to our atheist neighbors we say, "Of course, we KNOW it's a myth and that's exactly why we celebrate!" May the light of our holy myths dispel your darkness!
Even secular society needs and uses myths. The lofty words of our Declaration of Independence, stripped of myth language, would be basically "England, Get out!"
Instead, we read and recall with pride these patriotic phrases: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal and that they are endowed by the Creator with certain unalienable rights and among these rights are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness."
But this is pure myth! It is not evident that all men are created equal, as anyone who watches the evening news or drives through a poor neighborhood can attest. And while we wish our rights are "unalienable", we hear of people being deprived of their rights every day. And being created presupposes a Creator who endows us with these rights. The myth being since God granted these to humans, no person--let alone government---has the right to deprive people of them. Pure myth!
None of the above is scientific or provable, or it can be argued, even logical! But these secular myths resonate in our hearts and inspire us to strive and struggle to do and be better until such a vision is realized on this earth.
And we people of faith have access to a vast treasury of myths from which to draw inspiration and meaning. Take, for example, these beautiful words in our first reading from the prophet Isaiah 11:1-10
On that day, a shoot shall sprout from the stump of Jesse,
and from his roots a bud shall blossom.
The spirit of the LORD shall rest upon him:
a spirit of wisdom and of understanding,
a spirit of counsel and of strength,
a spirit of knowledge and of fear of the LORD,
and his delight shall be the fear of the LORD.
Not by appearance shall he judge,
nor by hearsay shall he decide,
but he shall judge the poor with justice,
and decide aright for the land’s afflicted.
He shall strike the ruthless with the rod of his mouth,
and with the breath of his lips he shall slay the wicked.
Justice shall be the band around his waist,
and faithfulness a belt upon his hips.
Then the wolf shall be a guest of the lamb,
and the leopard shall lie down with the kid;
the calf and the young lion shall browse together,
with a little child to guide them.
The cow and the bear shall be neighbors,
together their young shall rest;
the lion shall eat hay like the ox.
The baby shall play by the cobra’s den,
and the child lay his hand on the adder’s lair.
There shall be no harm or ruin on all my holy mountain;
for the earth shall be filled with knowledge of the LORD,
as water covers the sea.
On that day, the root of Jesse,
set up as a signal for the nations,
the Gentiles shall seek out,
for his dwelling shall be glorious.
These words still resonate within our hearts and give humans inspiration even after 2,700 years! They speak of a future toward which we can all aspire. Yes, the wolf and the lamb living peacefully together is surely a myth in its noblest sense, and one that humankind would be infinitely poorer without.
The promise and coming of the Messiah, along with the Exodus from Egypt, are powerful myths that have sustained the Jewish people for millennia. Indeed, without these myths to hold them together, they would never have survived the loss of Temple, monarchy, land and freedom. Their myths gave them their identity so they would never forget who they are or why they are here no matter what people did to them.
And we too celebrate our rich treasury of myths surrounding the birth of the one we hail as the Messiah, not just for the Jews but for people everywhere in the world. Advent is our season of waiting so we can enter into the spirit of our Jewish brothers and sisters to anticipate that no matter what happens to us or to our world we hold onto this promise from God for a better tomorrow.
It took 200 years for our country to realize its promise that all men and women are created equal. And it has taken us 2,000 years to live out the promises of Christ in the gospel. We have come far but we have so much more work to do. But thank God for our sacred myths that give us here on earth the visions of a heaven toward which to strive.
And so in answer to our atheist neighbors we say, "Of course, we KNOW it's a myth and that's exactly why we celebrate!" May the light of our holy myths dispel your darkness!
Saturday, November 27, 2010
The true "War on Christmas" (First Sunday of Advent, Year A)
There is a billboard just outside the Jersey entrance to the Lincoln tunnel that is getting a lot of attention. It shows the three wise men following a star and the words: "You KNOW it's a myth. This season, celebrate reason."
This billboard and others like it were erected by a group calling itself Atheist Americans. It has several people upset and others all worked up. Certain radio personalities see this as more proof that there is an orchestrated "War on Christmas."
The odd thing is, both groups are right. The story of the wise men visiting the Christ Child is a myth. But a myth is not a made-up fairy tale. A myth, in theological terms, is a special story that gives meaning and purpose to people's lives. Myths may be based on historical facts or not. That is secondary to the meaning the story gives.
Myths use poetic or symbolic language to convey deeper truths that cannot be expressed in purely scientific terms. If I tell you "I am very sad" that may be scientifically accurate, but saying "My heart is broken" is closer to the truth, although no x-ray will show a literally broken heart.
Atheists claim there is no scientific proof for the existence of God. But what scientific proof is there for the existence of love? Or forgiveness? Or mercy? We know these exist because we experience them; we feel them; they fill our hearts with hope. Such it also is with God.
The Christmas story celebrates all these things in human flesh. The story of the three wise men teaches that love, forgiveness and mercy are intended for all people and everyone can find them, if they seek them with open hearts. And if you don't believe in that, you are truly a sad person who deserves our pity more than our anger.
But then, what of the so-called Christians who are convinced there is a so-called War on Christmas? These well-meaning but misguided souls are right, but for the wrong reasons. An atheistic billboard is not an attack on Christmas. Stores putting up signs that say "Happy Holidays" is not a war on Christmas. The government forbidding a Nativity set on federal property is not an attack on Christmas.
If anything, atheistic billboards and the government should remind us of just how precious the freedom of religion is and how it needs protection.
No, the real war on Christmas is going on every day when shoppers knock each other down and trample people to get at the bargains. The real war on Christmas is when we are so busy decorating our homes and going to parties and wrapping last minute gifts we don't have time to listen to friends who feel alone, or sick or depressed. The real war on Christmas happens when we stop acting like Christians.
And so we come to the First Sunday of Advent, a time of waiting and warning. If there's one thing Americans hate doing and do very poorly is wait. We want immediate action and instant gratification. But Advent reminds us somethings cannot be rushed, no matter how much you want them right away, like the birth of a baby.
And the gospel gives us a warning not to become too attached to this present world, because it can and will all change in an instant. Lighting the first Advent candle will not make the daylight return, but it will help dispel the growing darkness until it does.
Sometimes, as people of faith, the only thing we can do is wait. And watch. And pray. We pray for atheists, that they may soon see the true light. And we pray for believers, that their eyes do not become too accustomed to the darkness.
And we wait with open hearts for the day when the world once again gives birth to love, forgiveness and mercy. Two thousand years ago a Child was born and our world forever changed. May the light from that "myth" guide our lives and the lives of all men and women everywhere until the end of time.
This billboard and others like it were erected by a group calling itself Atheist Americans. It has several people upset and others all worked up. Certain radio personalities see this as more proof that there is an orchestrated "War on Christmas."
The odd thing is, both groups are right. The story of the wise men visiting the Christ Child is a myth. But a myth is not a made-up fairy tale. A myth, in theological terms, is a special story that gives meaning and purpose to people's lives. Myths may be based on historical facts or not. That is secondary to the meaning the story gives.
Myths use poetic or symbolic language to convey deeper truths that cannot be expressed in purely scientific terms. If I tell you "I am very sad" that may be scientifically accurate, but saying "My heart is broken" is closer to the truth, although no x-ray will show a literally broken heart.
Atheists claim there is no scientific proof for the existence of God. But what scientific proof is there for the existence of love? Or forgiveness? Or mercy? We know these exist because we experience them; we feel them; they fill our hearts with hope. Such it also is with God.
The Christmas story celebrates all these things in human flesh. The story of the three wise men teaches that love, forgiveness and mercy are intended for all people and everyone can find them, if they seek them with open hearts. And if you don't believe in that, you are truly a sad person who deserves our pity more than our anger.
But then, what of the so-called Christians who are convinced there is a so-called War on Christmas? These well-meaning but misguided souls are right, but for the wrong reasons. An atheistic billboard is not an attack on Christmas. Stores putting up signs that say "Happy Holidays" is not a war on Christmas. The government forbidding a Nativity set on federal property is not an attack on Christmas.
If anything, atheistic billboards and the government should remind us of just how precious the freedom of religion is and how it needs protection.
No, the real war on Christmas is going on every day when shoppers knock each other down and trample people to get at the bargains. The real war on Christmas is when we are so busy decorating our homes and going to parties and wrapping last minute gifts we don't have time to listen to friends who feel alone, or sick or depressed. The real war on Christmas happens when we stop acting like Christians.
And so we come to the First Sunday of Advent, a time of waiting and warning. If there's one thing Americans hate doing and do very poorly is wait. We want immediate action and instant gratification. But Advent reminds us somethings cannot be rushed, no matter how much you want them right away, like the birth of a baby.
And the gospel gives us a warning not to become too attached to this present world, because it can and will all change in an instant. Lighting the first Advent candle will not make the daylight return, but it will help dispel the growing darkness until it does.
Sometimes, as people of faith, the only thing we can do is wait. And watch. And pray. We pray for atheists, that they may soon see the true light. And we pray for believers, that their eyes do not become too accustomed to the darkness.
And we wait with open hearts for the day when the world once again gives birth to love, forgiveness and mercy. Two thousand years ago a Child was born and our world forever changed. May the light from that "myth" guide our lives and the lives of all men and women everywhere until the end of time.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Reporting for duty! The Feast of Christ the King (Nov. 21, 2010)
There was once a king who ruled a large kingdom with justice, peace and prosperity. Many men proudly served their king as loyal and brave knights. One knight, Sir Dexter, was the bravest of all. He set out to defend the kingdom. When he did not return for several months, the king became worried. Finally after more than a year's absence, Sir Dexter returned. On foot. His horse was dead. His suit of armor was all dented. His lance was broken. He had two black eyes. And his head, arms and legs were covered with bruises.
"Sir Dexter!" the king exclaimed. "What in God's name happened to you?"
"Your majesty," the knight said after catching his breath. "I am back from doing battle with your enemies all along your western border."
The king was confused and said, "But I don't have any enemies on the western border."
The knight replied. "Well, you do now."
Today we celebrate the solemnity of Christ the King. It is the last Sunday of our liturgical year and the goal towards which every Sunday of the year points. Indeed, for people of the Christian faith, the kingship of Christ is the ultimate goal of human history and of the entire universe.
We believe that on the Last Day, a trumpet shall sound and all the dead shall be raised and brought before Christ, our God and king, to be judged. And like Sir Dexter in the opening story, we will appear with all our bruises and battle scars before Christ who will judge us not so much by how many Masses we attended or rosaries we said or how well we understood the Bible. Rather, our lives will be judged on whether, by our words and actions, we made people friends or enemies of God's kingdom. Did we draw people to God or drive them from God? Did we show by our actions that love is stronger than hate, that forgiveness is mightier than hurt, that mercy is more powerful than revenge? Or did we imitate the ways of the world?
When Jesus stood before Pontius Pilate and announced, "My kingdom is not of this world," he didn't just mean his kingdom does not have geographical borders, but rather that the values of the kingdom of God are not things this world respects or recognizes. The weapons used by defenders of God's kingdom are not those used by defenders of this world.
In the kingdom of God, you do not destroy an enemy by hating, much less by killing him or her. That just succeeds in making more enemies. Our weapons are humility, and truth, and honesty and service.
On the other hand, we cannot long use the weapons of this world: exploitation, cheating, deception, lying and violence without becoming like this world. If we become like this world, we cannot expect the kingdom of God to advance in our hearts, much less on this earth.
The Romans nailed Jesus to a cross not just to punish him but to warn us, his followers, of what will happen to any who dare oppose the empire by following Christ. And above his head they hung a sign with the initials I.N.R.I. (Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews).
Today we boldly lift high the cross of Christ as a warning to empires: your power is finished, your reign has ended, your days are numbered. The final victory is Christ's. Yet the spiritual war continues.
The battle is not waged on some distant border against a distant foe. The spiritual warfare in which we are engaged goes on everyday in the battlefield of our own hearts and minds and souls.
On this great feast of Christ the King, let us redouble our efforts to do good and avoid evil. If we have bad habits, let us renew our resolve to break them. If we have sins, let us repent and confess them. Let us show everyone we meet how great our God is. Let us make friends for God while we can.
And let us look to that day when we will all stand before the throne of God as allies of Christ on earth. And if the king says, "I didn't know I had any allies on earth," we can proudly claim, "You do now."
"Sir Dexter!" the king exclaimed. "What in God's name happened to you?"
"Your majesty," the knight said after catching his breath. "I am back from doing battle with your enemies all along your western border."
The king was confused and said, "But I don't have any enemies on the western border."
The knight replied. "Well, you do now."
Today we celebrate the solemnity of Christ the King. It is the last Sunday of our liturgical year and the goal towards which every Sunday of the year points. Indeed, for people of the Christian faith, the kingship of Christ is the ultimate goal of human history and of the entire universe.
We believe that on the Last Day, a trumpet shall sound and all the dead shall be raised and brought before Christ, our God and king, to be judged. And like Sir Dexter in the opening story, we will appear with all our bruises and battle scars before Christ who will judge us not so much by how many Masses we attended or rosaries we said or how well we understood the Bible. Rather, our lives will be judged on whether, by our words and actions, we made people friends or enemies of God's kingdom. Did we draw people to God or drive them from God? Did we show by our actions that love is stronger than hate, that forgiveness is mightier than hurt, that mercy is more powerful than revenge? Or did we imitate the ways of the world?
When Jesus stood before Pontius Pilate and announced, "My kingdom is not of this world," he didn't just mean his kingdom does not have geographical borders, but rather that the values of the kingdom of God are not things this world respects or recognizes. The weapons used by defenders of God's kingdom are not those used by defenders of this world.
In the kingdom of God, you do not destroy an enemy by hating, much less by killing him or her. That just succeeds in making more enemies. Our weapons are humility, and truth, and honesty and service.
On the other hand, we cannot long use the weapons of this world: exploitation, cheating, deception, lying and violence without becoming like this world. If we become like this world, we cannot expect the kingdom of God to advance in our hearts, much less on this earth.
The Romans nailed Jesus to a cross not just to punish him but to warn us, his followers, of what will happen to any who dare oppose the empire by following Christ. And above his head they hung a sign with the initials I.N.R.I. (Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews).
Today we boldly lift high the cross of Christ as a warning to empires: your power is finished, your reign has ended, your days are numbered. The final victory is Christ's. Yet the spiritual war continues.
The battle is not waged on some distant border against a distant foe. The spiritual warfare in which we are engaged goes on everyday in the battlefield of our own hearts and minds and souls.
On this great feast of Christ the King, let us redouble our efforts to do good and avoid evil. If we have bad habits, let us renew our resolve to break them. If we have sins, let us repent and confess them. Let us show everyone we meet how great our God is. Let us make friends for God while we can.
And let us look to that day when we will all stand before the throne of God as allies of Christ on earth. And if the king says, "I didn't know I had any allies on earth," we can proudly claim, "You do now."
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Going to Hoboken in a hand basket (26th Sunday in Ordinary Time)
Today's gospel annoys me, and it should annoy you as well. I mean, we go to all that trouble to learn the commandments so we can live by the rules, avoid going to hell and hopefully getting into heaven, then WHAM! along comes Jesus with this parable.
Lazarus, a poor man, dies and goes to heaven; the rich man---who has no name and therefore no identity--dies and is buried. Lazarus finds himself cradled in the bosom of Abraham, which is a great place to be cradled. The rich man finds himself in a place of torment, so we can assume if it's not hell it's at least some place in north Jersey. Probably near Bayonne or Elizabeth. Maybe Newark.
Anyway, that's not the disturbing part, unless you happen to be visiting us today from New Jersey, in which case I apologize, but don't blame me, I didn't write the gospel. Take it up with Luke should you be lucky enough one day to find yourself in the bosom of Abraham and not in that "place of torment." Trust me, it's an improvement.
But I digress. What is really disturbing about today's gospel is that Luke does not tell us WHY the rich man ended up in hell. It doesn't mention any mortal sin he may have committed to suffer eternal torment. It doesn't even say he intentionally ignored Lazarus lying outside his door. He was rich and he enjoyed his things and presumably he enjoyed his life. What's wrong with that? Apparently something.
Surely the gospel doesn't mean to imply that all rich people are headed toward hell.
At the beginning of Mass, we confess to God and one another that we have sinned in our thoughts, in our words, in what we have done---and what we have failed to do. A sin of omission! When we do not do good, we commit a sin! Missing Mass is the most obvious. But we also have the obligation to love one another, to forgive one another, to help one another. And when we do not do these things, we, like the rich man, run the risk of winding up in Hoboken. (Sorry! I meant hell!)
But there is another annoying part in today's gospel. What did Lazarus do to merit going to heaven? Did he pray a lot? Did he go to church? Luke doesn't tell us. Does Lazarus go to heaven just because he's poor? Put another way, do poor people automatically go to heaven?
We know poor people can be as greedy, rude, and selfish like the rest of us. So what makes Lazarus special? The answer is in his name. A name, especially in the Bible, gives us a clue about a person's character and role in life. Lazarus is the English form of the Hebrew name Eleazer. It means, "God is my help." Lazarus trusted God alone, in spite of all hardships, poverty and hunger. And God rewarded that trust. The dogs that came to lick Lazarus' wounds are a poor person's health care.
Some in this church today are like Lazarus. Perhaps they lost their jobs or their health is not good. Maybe they are sad or depressed. Today's gospel calls them to put their trust in God alone. And the rich man is given no name, not just because he has no identity, but so that each of us can put ourselves in his place and examine our lives by gospel values and not just enjoy life. We must be concerned about the poor people around us. God may be helping them through us.
[Here's proof God has a sense of humor. On my way driving on the local streets to church today, I spotted a poor, old woman sitting on the curb. I thought , "God, I have no time to stop and help that poor person. I have to get to church so I can tell parishioners to help poor people!"]
If we ignore the cry of the poor, if we refuse to do good, we runs the risk of ending up someplace much worse than Hoboken.
Lazarus, a poor man, dies and goes to heaven; the rich man---who has no name and therefore no identity--dies and is buried. Lazarus finds himself cradled in the bosom of Abraham, which is a great place to be cradled. The rich man finds himself in a place of torment, so we can assume if it's not hell it's at least some place in north Jersey. Probably near Bayonne or Elizabeth. Maybe Newark.
Anyway, that's not the disturbing part, unless you happen to be visiting us today from New Jersey, in which case I apologize, but don't blame me, I didn't write the gospel. Take it up with Luke should you be lucky enough one day to find yourself in the bosom of Abraham and not in that "place of torment." Trust me, it's an improvement.
But I digress. What is really disturbing about today's gospel is that Luke does not tell us WHY the rich man ended up in hell. It doesn't mention any mortal sin he may have committed to suffer eternal torment. It doesn't even say he intentionally ignored Lazarus lying outside his door. He was rich and he enjoyed his things and presumably he enjoyed his life. What's wrong with that? Apparently something.
Surely the gospel doesn't mean to imply that all rich people are headed toward hell.
At the beginning of Mass, we confess to God and one another that we have sinned in our thoughts, in our words, in what we have done---and what we have failed to do. A sin of omission! When we do not do good, we commit a sin! Missing Mass is the most obvious. But we also have the obligation to love one another, to forgive one another, to help one another. And when we do not do these things, we, like the rich man, run the risk of winding up in Hoboken. (Sorry! I meant hell!)
But there is another annoying part in today's gospel. What did Lazarus do to merit going to heaven? Did he pray a lot? Did he go to church? Luke doesn't tell us. Does Lazarus go to heaven just because he's poor? Put another way, do poor people automatically go to heaven?
We know poor people can be as greedy, rude, and selfish like the rest of us. So what makes Lazarus special? The answer is in his name. A name, especially in the Bible, gives us a clue about a person's character and role in life. Lazarus is the English form of the Hebrew name Eleazer. It means, "God is my help." Lazarus trusted God alone, in spite of all hardships, poverty and hunger. And God rewarded that trust. The dogs that came to lick Lazarus' wounds are a poor person's health care.
Some in this church today are like Lazarus. Perhaps they lost their jobs or their health is not good. Maybe they are sad or depressed. Today's gospel calls them to put their trust in God alone. And the rich man is given no name, not just because he has no identity, but so that each of us can put ourselves in his place and examine our lives by gospel values and not just enjoy life. We must be concerned about the poor people around us. God may be helping them through us.
[Here's proof God has a sense of humor. On my way driving on the local streets to church today, I spotted a poor, old woman sitting on the curb. I thought , "God, I have no time to stop and help that poor person. I have to get to church so I can tell parishioners to help poor people!"]
If we ignore the cry of the poor, if we refuse to do good, we runs the risk of ending up someplace much worse than Hoboken.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Interreligious bake-off! (Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time)
I have a recipe for the best cake in the world. This cake is so delicious, you'll never want any other. One taste and you'll be in heaven. This recipe is better than any cake recipe anyone else has ever known. And it's free!
Do you detect anything missing in what I just said? I can stand up here and brag all I want on how good this recipe is, but the only way to convince you I have the recipe for the most excellent cake EVER, is for me to actually bake that cake and let you taste it for yourselves. Of course, it's always easier--and safer--just talking about it than actually baking it. After all, anybody can talk. And I might fail.
You see, the problem is, our Muslim neighbors across the street say they have the best recipe. What's more, they claim it came directly from God. The Buddhists up the block insist their cake is out of this world. The Jews, of course, gave us the original recipe but we perfected it with a special, all-important ingedient. Now Protestants contend we Catholics have distorted the recipe by using way too much sugar and frosting and we Catholics think their cake is only half-baked.
We could go on and on arguing whose recipe is the best, but there is only one way to prove it: bake the cake. Taste it. Offer it to others. Then let the world decide.
This analogy would be funny were it not for the wars that have been fought and are being fought even as we gather in prayer today, wars over whose religion is the true religion, whose way of life is best, whose understanding of God is correct.
How ironic that we profess belief in a God of compassion and forgiveness; ironic because centuries ago Catholics slaughtered Muslims in the battle for Jerusalem, and Catholics killed Eastern Orthodox Christians in the siege of Constantinople and Catholics butchered Protestants in France and Spain---all in the name of the God of compassion. To be sure, over the centuries Muslims and Protestants have killed their share of Catholics.
Whose to blame? There's plenty of blame to go around. Most religions have blood on their hands. So, is there something wrong with the recipe? Perhaps the ingredients aren't right? Or is the baker to blame? Some people became so discouraged, disappointed or disgusted with all the sins committed in the name of God and religion that they have given up on baking altogether. We call them atheists.
This Book of the Gospels we carry in solemn procession at the beginning of Mass, this Book we enthrone upon the altar, this Book from which we proclaim the life and teachings of Jesus Christ, this is our recipe for nothing less than eternal life. But it is only as good, and useful, and effective as our willingness to follow it and live by its instructions. Believe, Repent, Forgive, Love.
Believe in Jesus. Repent your sins. Forgive others. And love! Love God and love your neighbor as you love yourself; love one another; love your enemies. Leave out any one of these and your faith will be incomplete. Your faith will be incomplete because your life is incomplete.
Today's gospel underscores the great mystery of God's forgiveness. God does not sit passively in some far away heaven until we decide to return. God actively waits and worries and watches the distant horizon for any sign we have come to our senses. God runs out to meet us halfway.
Forgiveness is actually the main ingredient of our recipe. Jesus gave the last drop of his blood on the cross to make God's forgiveness available, not just to us but to everyone. Who are we then to deny forgiveness to others?
As the Parable of the Good Samaritan points out, it doesn't matter why we return to the Father. God doesn't care to listen to our lame excuses for why we came back, God is just happy to have us back home. And those of us who never left, who never strayed, who never sinned, who are we to pout like the older brother when God is merciful to sinners? Trust me, the day will come when you too will stand in need of forgiveness.
Nine years ago the world watched in horror as a few misguided Muslims slammed airplanes into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. Since then, some misguided Christians concluded there must be something evil about the Quran for it to produce such evil men. Last week the world watched in horror as some misguided Christians threatened to burn the Muslim holy book. Wouldn't it be just as wrong to conclude there must be something wrong with the Bible for it to produce such idiots? Is there something wrong with our Bible if it produced the Crusades, the Inquisition, and the recent sex abuse scandals? Would burning the Bible solve the problem?
But is the problem with the Book, or with the bakers?
I've read translations of parts of the Quran. Some of it is very beautiful. Some of it is very violent. The same thing can be said of the Old Testament. Now, the Quran does mention Jesus and accepts him as a holy prophet sent by God. It says he was born of the Virgin Mary and even rose from the dead and returned to God. So far so good.
But the Quran explicitly denies Jesus is the Son of God or that he was crucified or that his death on the cross brought salvation to the world. Of course Muslims deny this. If they didn't, they'd be Christians.
The question isn't why Muslims don't believe in Jesus as the Son of God; the question is what difference does it make to those of us who do?
We cannot confess Jesus is Lord, then not follow his example.
We cannot believe Jesus died for our sins, but then stubbornly refuse to forgive others.
We cannot call ourselves Christian, but then ignore Jesus' commandments.
Believe. Repent. Forgive. Love.
Anything less is a recipe for disaster.
Do you detect anything missing in what I just said? I can stand up here and brag all I want on how good this recipe is, but the only way to convince you I have the recipe for the most excellent cake EVER, is for me to actually bake that cake and let you taste it for yourselves. Of course, it's always easier--and safer--just talking about it than actually baking it. After all, anybody can talk. And I might fail.
You see, the problem is, our Muslim neighbors across the street say they have the best recipe. What's more, they claim it came directly from God. The Buddhists up the block insist their cake is out of this world. The Jews, of course, gave us the original recipe but we perfected it with a special, all-important ingedient. Now Protestants contend we Catholics have distorted the recipe by using way too much sugar and frosting and we Catholics think their cake is only half-baked.
We could go on and on arguing whose recipe is the best, but there is only one way to prove it: bake the cake. Taste it. Offer it to others. Then let the world decide.
This analogy would be funny were it not for the wars that have been fought and are being fought even as we gather in prayer today, wars over whose religion is the true religion, whose way of life is best, whose understanding of God is correct.
How ironic that we profess belief in a God of compassion and forgiveness; ironic because centuries ago Catholics slaughtered Muslims in the battle for Jerusalem, and Catholics killed Eastern Orthodox Christians in the siege of Constantinople and Catholics butchered Protestants in France and Spain---all in the name of the God of compassion. To be sure, over the centuries Muslims and Protestants have killed their share of Catholics.
Whose to blame? There's plenty of blame to go around. Most religions have blood on their hands. So, is there something wrong with the recipe? Perhaps the ingredients aren't right? Or is the baker to blame? Some people became so discouraged, disappointed or disgusted with all the sins committed in the name of God and religion that they have given up on baking altogether. We call them atheists.
This Book of the Gospels we carry in solemn procession at the beginning of Mass, this Book we enthrone upon the altar, this Book from which we proclaim the life and teachings of Jesus Christ, this is our recipe for nothing less than eternal life. But it is only as good, and useful, and effective as our willingness to follow it and live by its instructions. Believe, Repent, Forgive, Love.
Believe in Jesus. Repent your sins. Forgive others. And love! Love God and love your neighbor as you love yourself; love one another; love your enemies. Leave out any one of these and your faith will be incomplete. Your faith will be incomplete because your life is incomplete.
Today's gospel underscores the great mystery of God's forgiveness. God does not sit passively in some far away heaven until we decide to return. God actively waits and worries and watches the distant horizon for any sign we have come to our senses. God runs out to meet us halfway.
Forgiveness is actually the main ingredient of our recipe. Jesus gave the last drop of his blood on the cross to make God's forgiveness available, not just to us but to everyone. Who are we then to deny forgiveness to others?
As the Parable of the Good Samaritan points out, it doesn't matter why we return to the Father. God doesn't care to listen to our lame excuses for why we came back, God is just happy to have us back home. And those of us who never left, who never strayed, who never sinned, who are we to pout like the older brother when God is merciful to sinners? Trust me, the day will come when you too will stand in need of forgiveness.
Nine years ago the world watched in horror as a few misguided Muslims slammed airplanes into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. Since then, some misguided Christians concluded there must be something evil about the Quran for it to produce such evil men. Last week the world watched in horror as some misguided Christians threatened to burn the Muslim holy book. Wouldn't it be just as wrong to conclude there must be something wrong with the Bible for it to produce such idiots? Is there something wrong with our Bible if it produced the Crusades, the Inquisition, and the recent sex abuse scandals? Would burning the Bible solve the problem?
But is the problem with the Book, or with the bakers?
I've read translations of parts of the Quran. Some of it is very beautiful. Some of it is very violent. The same thing can be said of the Old Testament. Now, the Quran does mention Jesus and accepts him as a holy prophet sent by God. It says he was born of the Virgin Mary and even rose from the dead and returned to God. So far so good.
But the Quran explicitly denies Jesus is the Son of God or that he was crucified or that his death on the cross brought salvation to the world. Of course Muslims deny this. If they didn't, they'd be Christians.
The question isn't why Muslims don't believe in Jesus as the Son of God; the question is what difference does it make to those of us who do?
We cannot confess Jesus is Lord, then not follow his example.
We cannot believe Jesus died for our sins, but then stubbornly refuse to forgive others.
We cannot call ourselves Christian, but then ignore Jesus' commandments.
Believe. Repent. Forgive. Love.
Anything less is a recipe for disaster.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Flipped over Flipped---a movie review
I begrudgingly attended the preview showing for the new Rob Reiner film Flipped (opening Friday, August 27, 2010), thoroughly expecting to roll my eyes for 90 minutes of saccharine, prepubescent puppy love.
Was I pleasantly surprised! This film drew me in and won me over by reawakening memories and emotions long dormant or at least dulled by the sensory overload of modern living.
The story harkens back to the late 1950s, when life was certainly simpler yet paradoxically deeper. By contrast, life these days seems way more complicated yet oddly superficial.
"Back in the day" people communicated by actually talking face to face with one another, or else showed disapproval by refusing to talk at all. This was long before the Internet, email and yes, even this most magnificent iPad, reduced our social interaction to a series of LOLs and :)s, if not WTFs.
Against this backdrop of life before cell phones, familiar (albeit all too rare nowadays) human feelings bubble to the surface: shyness, infatuation, hurt, courage, honesty and integrity shine out without the aid of mind-numbing FX and CGI.
When was the last time you saw a movie that both entertained you and made you think? No 3D, no IMAX, no gratuitous nudity, no vulgarities, no sex scenes, no drugs, no violence---just superb acting bringing a well-written and delightful script to life. If there is any downside to the movie, it's in the realization that over the past 50 years we somehow have lost the centrality of family. People still face the very same situations raised in the movie, only now our problems are compounded by isolation and self-imposed exile from one another.
Not coincidentally, I'm sure, the mothers in the two families are the catalysts for change. A family meal and a basket lunch provide pivotal moments for the characters to break through barriers and break down walls.
Coming against Sty Stalone's blockbuster The Expendables (which I also enjoyed, btw, for its adventure genre: mindless mayhem) with nonstop explosions, chase scenes and bloody violence, the low-key Flipped will not rake in the big bucks, but by contrast it will leave the audience rather than the filmmaker enriched.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Of women and Earth (Feast of the Assumption, Aug. 15)
As a doctrine articulated by the Church as dogma, the Assumption of Mary, that is, after her death she was assumed body and soul into heaven, is only 70 years old. But the belief that, like her Son, Mary now lives in eternal glory goes back to the time of the apostles.
Last June I had the opportunity to visit the ruins of Ephesus in Turkey and see the place where local tradition maintains our Blessed Mother spent the last years of her life under the care of St. John, the Beloved Disciple. An ancient story told by Orthodox Christians is that as Mary lay dying, the remaining Apostles were drawn to her side. Only Thomas was late---as usual. After he arrived, John brought him to see her tomb but when they opened it, her body was gone.
From this arose the Orthodox feast of the Dormition (or sleep) of Mary, a phrase alluded to in the second reading where St. Paul refers to "those who have fallen asleep in Christ."
Since those early days, Christians gathered in Ephesus every August 15 to celebrate Mary's bodily assumption into heaven. And it was in Ephesus that the first Christian church was built and dedicated Mary. And it was at that church the Council of Ephesus met in 431 and declared Mary to be the "Theotokos", the Bearer or God, or as we say in the West, the Mother of God.
It is regrettable that Catholic devotion to the Virgin Mary is misunderstood by many Protestants and remains a source of division. Although the tradition is old, the feast of the Assumption has an important message for people today.
If we believe that at this very moment the body of the Virgin Mary has been glorified and that she lives in heaven with her Son, we are compelled to respect women and the Earth. After all, it was through these that the savior came into the world and it was from these that every cell of Jesus' body came.
There was nothing wrong with a woman bearing the Son of God; there was nothing wrong with that same woman entering heaven as a woman.
How can we glorify a woman in heaven and ignore the plight of women on earth? How can we advocate for the rights of women in our society yet we deny them rights in the Church? Respect for women must start with us here.
The Vatican has determined that women cannot be ordained. This strikes me as odd, since more than any male priest, Mary can point to Jesus and say, "This is my body; this is my blood." If a woman can produce the body of Christ physically, why can't a woman produce it sacramentally? The argument that women cannot be ordained because none was present at the Last Supper, taken to its conclusion, means women have no right to receive communion either.
But women face larger problems then this. Health care, education, employment, domestic violence, human trafficking and exploitation all threaten the women of the world on a daily basis.
The Earth, too, continues to suffer abuse and pollution. Do we take the Assumption of Mary into heaven seriously? Then let us honor, protect and advocate on behalf of women and the Earth today.
*********************************
(Note: After delivering this homily at St. Paul Chong Ha-Sang Korean Catholic church last Sunday, I attended a meeting of the parish building committee. On the blueprints for the new center, I noticed there were fewer toilets for women then for men. They promised to correct this oversight. The women of the parish will be greatly relieved. [insert groan] Sometimes advocating for women can be something very practical and down to earth! ~ FB)
Last June I had the opportunity to visit the ruins of Ephesus in Turkey and see the place where local tradition maintains our Blessed Mother spent the last years of her life under the care of St. John, the Beloved Disciple. An ancient story told by Orthodox Christians is that as Mary lay dying, the remaining Apostles were drawn to her side. Only Thomas was late---as usual. After he arrived, John brought him to see her tomb but when they opened it, her body was gone.
From this arose the Orthodox feast of the Dormition (or sleep) of Mary, a phrase alluded to in the second reading where St. Paul refers to "those who have fallen asleep in Christ."
Since those early days, Christians gathered in Ephesus every August 15 to celebrate Mary's bodily assumption into heaven. And it was in Ephesus that the first Christian church was built and dedicated Mary. And it was at that church the Council of Ephesus met in 431 and declared Mary to be the "Theotokos", the Bearer or God, or as we say in the West, the Mother of God.
It is regrettable that Catholic devotion to the Virgin Mary is misunderstood by many Protestants and remains a source of division. Although the tradition is old, the feast of the Assumption has an important message for people today.
If we believe that at this very moment the body of the Virgin Mary has been glorified and that she lives in heaven with her Son, we are compelled to respect women and the Earth. After all, it was through these that the savior came into the world and it was from these that every cell of Jesus' body came.
There was nothing wrong with a woman bearing the Son of God; there was nothing wrong with that same woman entering heaven as a woman.
How can we glorify a woman in heaven and ignore the plight of women on earth? How can we advocate for the rights of women in our society yet we deny them rights in the Church? Respect for women must start with us here.
The Vatican has determined that women cannot be ordained. This strikes me as odd, since more than any male priest, Mary can point to Jesus and say, "This is my body; this is my blood." If a woman can produce the body of Christ physically, why can't a woman produce it sacramentally? The argument that women cannot be ordained because none was present at the Last Supper, taken to its conclusion, means women have no right to receive communion either.
But women face larger problems then this. Health care, education, employment, domestic violence, human trafficking and exploitation all threaten the women of the world on a daily basis.
The Earth, too, continues to suffer abuse and pollution. Do we take the Assumption of Mary into heaven seriously? Then let us honor, protect and advocate on behalf of women and the Earth today.
*********************************
(Note: After delivering this homily at St. Paul Chong Ha-Sang Korean Catholic church last Sunday, I attended a meeting of the parish building committee. On the blueprints for the new center, I noticed there were fewer toilets for women then for men. They promised to correct this oversight. The women of the parish will be greatly relieved. [insert groan] Sometimes advocating for women can be something very practical and down to earth! ~ FB)
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Becoming prayers (17th Sunday Year C)
Today's readings focus on prayer, prayer not as a monologue, where I tell God what's on my mind and what God already knows, but as a dialogue. A conversation. I ask, and God gives. I seek, and God helps me find. I knock and God opens.
One of my Facebook friends posted something on my wall today. She said, "God is not answering our prayers. And my tears mean nothing to him." It took me quite awhile to respond. Finally I wrote, "That's exactly what our Blessed Mother thought on Calvary."
Of course, no one knows what went though our Blessed Mother's mind that dark Friday afternoon, as she cradled the crucified body of her Son. Her pain must have been tremendous precisely because her love and her faith were tremendous. But perhaps because she was in constant communion with God, this sustained her in her greatest hour of need.
Today's readings ask us to consider not just if we pray, but how we pray. Abraham didn't recite formal prayers to God to spare the citizens of Sodom. He bargained with God like you would bargain in an open market for a basket of figs. God kept his side of the bargain. Unfortunately there were not ten righteous men in all of Sodom, and so the city was destroyed.
In Luke's gospel today, the disciples ask Jesus to teach them how to pray and he gives them what we have come to call the Lord's Prayer, prayed by Christians around the world to this day. Of course, the version we pray is not like the one in today's gospel nor is it even like the one in Matthew's. That's the point. Jesus is not giving us the exact words in which to pray. (If he were, we'd be praying in Aramaic.) Rather he gives us the attitude and spirit in which to pray.
One of my favorite stories about prayer concerns a simple grandfather, uneducated and unsophisticated who had stopped coming to church for many years. Then one day he decided it was time to make a fresh start so he went to confession. The priest gave him absolution and, as a penance, asked him to say three Our Fathers, three Hail Marys, and three Glory Bes. There was only one problem. It had been so long since he'd been to church, he forgot how to recite all these prayers. And he was too embarrassed to say anything, let alone admit he couldn't read.
About 30 minutes later the priest came out of the confessional and was surprised to see that grandfather still in church, kneeling in front of the altar, and apparently still praying. Now, the priest knew it shouldn't take so long to say three Our Fathers, three Hail Mary's and three Glory Be's so, out of curiosity he drew closer to see if he could hear the grandfather's prayer. To his surprise and confusion, this is what he heard: "A B C D E F G... the entire alphabet to W X Y Z" and then the old man would start all over again, "A B C D..." After listening to this two times, the priest could not contain his curiosity so he tapped the grandfather on the shoulder and gently asked what he was doing. "Father, I am truly sorry," the old man explained, "But I forgot how to say my prayers. So instead, I thought I'd offer God all the letters of the alphabet many times and let him put the words together whatever way he wants."
My brothers and sisters in Christ, the prayer of that old man went straight to God's ears because it was spoken from the heart. It doesn't matter if we pray in Latin, Korean, English or Swahili, or use fancy sentences and correct grammar or even what words we use, as long as we too pray from the heart.
A Maryknoll missioner in Irian Jaya, which is in eastern Indonesia, made this observation about the people there, many of whom are not Catholic and who still practice native customs, what we might call "superstitions." After watching a fisherman prepare to lower his nets, the priest observed: "The pagan who prays to the wind is closer to God than the Christian who does not pray."
Do we really pray? By that I mean do we do more than simply recite prayers, whether it's the rosary, or Stations of the Cross, or even the Mass? Prayer is like having God's personal phone number. It's nice to have the contact information but if we don't stop and listen, how will we hear God's answer? It would be like speed dialing the same number over and over again then hanging up even before we hear God say hello? We would be spiritually stalking God. Yes, we need to say prayers, but above all we need to stop and listen in silence for God's answer in the deepest recesses of our heart.
It's interesting how in English the word "prayer" has two meanings. The common understanding is words spoken to God; but it also can refer to the one who prays. We are not only supposed to offer prayers, we are supposed to become prayers.
When our every waking moment is spent giving glory and thanks and praise to God, when we beg God's mercy and intercede on behalf of others, when we spend time with the Scriptures and listen with our hearts to God's voice, we become prayers and our life is God's answer.
One of my Facebook friends posted something on my wall today. She said, "God is not answering our prayers. And my tears mean nothing to him." It took me quite awhile to respond. Finally I wrote, "That's exactly what our Blessed Mother thought on Calvary."
Of course, no one knows what went though our Blessed Mother's mind that dark Friday afternoon, as she cradled the crucified body of her Son. Her pain must have been tremendous precisely because her love and her faith were tremendous. But perhaps because she was in constant communion with God, this sustained her in her greatest hour of need.
Today's readings ask us to consider not just if we pray, but how we pray. Abraham didn't recite formal prayers to God to spare the citizens of Sodom. He bargained with God like you would bargain in an open market for a basket of figs. God kept his side of the bargain. Unfortunately there were not ten righteous men in all of Sodom, and so the city was destroyed.
In Luke's gospel today, the disciples ask Jesus to teach them how to pray and he gives them what we have come to call the Lord's Prayer, prayed by Christians around the world to this day. Of course, the version we pray is not like the one in today's gospel nor is it even like the one in Matthew's. That's the point. Jesus is not giving us the exact words in which to pray. (If he were, we'd be praying in Aramaic.) Rather he gives us the attitude and spirit in which to pray.
One of my favorite stories about prayer concerns a simple grandfather, uneducated and unsophisticated who had stopped coming to church for many years. Then one day he decided it was time to make a fresh start so he went to confession. The priest gave him absolution and, as a penance, asked him to say three Our Fathers, three Hail Marys, and three Glory Bes. There was only one problem. It had been so long since he'd been to church, he forgot how to recite all these prayers. And he was too embarrassed to say anything, let alone admit he couldn't read.
About 30 minutes later the priest came out of the confessional and was surprised to see that grandfather still in church, kneeling in front of the altar, and apparently still praying. Now, the priest knew it shouldn't take so long to say three Our Fathers, three Hail Mary's and three Glory Be's so, out of curiosity he drew closer to see if he could hear the grandfather's prayer. To his surprise and confusion, this is what he heard: "A B C D E F G... the entire alphabet to W X Y Z" and then the old man would start all over again, "A B C D..." After listening to this two times, the priest could not contain his curiosity so he tapped the grandfather on the shoulder and gently asked what he was doing. "Father, I am truly sorry," the old man explained, "But I forgot how to say my prayers. So instead, I thought I'd offer God all the letters of the alphabet many times and let him put the words together whatever way he wants."
My brothers and sisters in Christ, the prayer of that old man went straight to God's ears because it was spoken from the heart. It doesn't matter if we pray in Latin, Korean, English or Swahili, or use fancy sentences and correct grammar or even what words we use, as long as we too pray from the heart.
A Maryknoll missioner in Irian Jaya, which is in eastern Indonesia, made this observation about the people there, many of whom are not Catholic and who still practice native customs, what we might call "superstitions." After watching a fisherman prepare to lower his nets, the priest observed: "The pagan who prays to the wind is closer to God than the Christian who does not pray."
Do we really pray? By that I mean do we do more than simply recite prayers, whether it's the rosary, or Stations of the Cross, or even the Mass? Prayer is like having God's personal phone number. It's nice to have the contact information but if we don't stop and listen, how will we hear God's answer? It would be like speed dialing the same number over and over again then hanging up even before we hear God say hello? We would be spiritually stalking God. Yes, we need to say prayers, but above all we need to stop and listen in silence for God's answer in the deepest recesses of our heart.
It's interesting how in English the word "prayer" has two meanings. The common understanding is words spoken to God; but it also can refer to the one who prays. We are not only supposed to offer prayers, we are supposed to become prayers.
When our every waking moment is spent giving glory and thanks and praise to God, when we beg God's mercy and intercede on behalf of others, when we spend time with the Scriptures and listen with our hearts to God's voice, we become prayers and our life is God's answer.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Silence vs. Service (16th Sunday, Year C)
There is a story about a Catholic missionary who worked very hard to bring Catholicism to Africa. He built a church and rectory, he built a school, he built a clinic, he built a parish center where old people could gather and young people could play. Soon he had a very successful congregation coming to church every Sunday and on holy days of obligation. The priest never took time off, never went on retreat, never rested. Soon his health gave out and he had to return home for treatment and rest.
When he returned to his mission work several months later, he was shocked and saddened to see his parish compound completely abandoned. All his old parishioners were attending the new evangelical church across town. He asked them what had happened. One woman told him, "Father, you did a lot of good while you were here. You gave clothing to the children and food to the hungry and medicine to the sick. We thank you for this. We learned a lot about Jesus but we never really knew Jesus."
If people do not see Jesus in our actions, maybe it's because they don't see him in our hearts, or reflected in our eyes, our through or words. Maybe they don't realize he is in us because we never took the time to realize he is in us. We were so busy doing the work of the Lord, we neglected to get to know the Lord of the work.
Getting to know someone takes time. We have to spend time talking and listening to know one another. This is no less true of our relationship with the Lord than with our friends and family.
In today's gospel (Luke 10:38-42), Martha was the perfect host: cooking, cleaning, serving. But Mary was the perfect disciple: sitting, listening, learning. While no doubt appreciative of Martha's hard work, Jesus praises Mary for knowing what really matters. Sitting at the feet of the Lord is better than washing the feet of the Lord.
Jesus probably wouldn't have said anything had Martha not complained. By complaining she showed she wasn't really serving out of love but because it was her duty as a woman. She resented that Mary got to do what men got to do: be and act like a disciple.
I suppose if this gospel were to be written today by the men in the Vatican, Jesus would tell Mary to get up and go help her sister in the kitchen.
Luckily, Luke shows Jesus welcoming women as disciples. We are all called to be disciples by sitting at Jesus' feet.
Sitting at the feet of the Lord means we are attentive and open. We nurture a personal relationship with Jesus. Only then can we go out and do as Jesus did and as he commands. Some people think this gospel means prayer and contemplation are better than sacrifice and service. That misses the point. It's not either/or; it's both/and.
Without prayer our service is so much busyness, no matter how well-intentioned. But without service our prayer is incomplete because we fail to fulfill the Lord's commandments. Our prayer makes Jesus present to us; our service makes Jesus visible to others.
As in the first reading, when we extend hospitality, even to foreigners, we receive God into our homes. In the second reading, when we take our sufferings to the foot of the cross and add our sufferings to those of Jesus, we show how God is present today, even in our particular situation. And in the gospel, when we combine the attentiveness of Mary with the activities of Martha, people get to know Jesus because we know Jesus.
When he returned to his mission work several months later, he was shocked and saddened to see his parish compound completely abandoned. All his old parishioners were attending the new evangelical church across town. He asked them what had happened. One woman told him, "Father, you did a lot of good while you were here. You gave clothing to the children and food to the hungry and medicine to the sick. We thank you for this. We learned a lot about Jesus but we never really knew Jesus."
If people do not see Jesus in our actions, maybe it's because they don't see him in our hearts, or reflected in our eyes, our through or words. Maybe they don't realize he is in us because we never took the time to realize he is in us. We were so busy doing the work of the Lord, we neglected to get to know the Lord of the work.
Getting to know someone takes time. We have to spend time talking and listening to know one another. This is no less true of our relationship with the Lord than with our friends and family.
In today's gospel (Luke 10:38-42), Martha was the perfect host: cooking, cleaning, serving. But Mary was the perfect disciple: sitting, listening, learning. While no doubt appreciative of Martha's hard work, Jesus praises Mary for knowing what really matters. Sitting at the feet of the Lord is better than washing the feet of the Lord.
Jesus probably wouldn't have said anything had Martha not complained. By complaining she showed she wasn't really serving out of love but because it was her duty as a woman. She resented that Mary got to do what men got to do: be and act like a disciple.
I suppose if this gospel were to be written today by the men in the Vatican, Jesus would tell Mary to get up and go help her sister in the kitchen.
Luckily, Luke shows Jesus welcoming women as disciples. We are all called to be disciples by sitting at Jesus' feet.
Sitting at the feet of the Lord means we are attentive and open. We nurture a personal relationship with Jesus. Only then can we go out and do as Jesus did and as he commands. Some people think this gospel means prayer and contemplation are better than sacrifice and service. That misses the point. It's not either/or; it's both/and.
Without prayer our service is so much busyness, no matter how well-intentioned. But without service our prayer is incomplete because we fail to fulfill the Lord's commandments. Our prayer makes Jesus present to us; our service makes Jesus visible to others.
As in the first reading, when we extend hospitality, even to foreigners, we receive God into our homes. In the second reading, when we take our sufferings to the foot of the cross and add our sufferings to those of Jesus, we show how God is present today, even in our particular situation. And in the gospel, when we combine the attentiveness of Mary with the activities of Martha, people get to know Jesus because we know Jesus.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
The Good Muslim (15th Sunday) Year C
Today's gospel asks the all-important question: who is my neighbor? Almost every major religion has a variation on the Golden Rule: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. In today's gospel, Jesus takes two commandments of the Hebrew Scriptures and combines them into one Great Commandment: Love God, and love your neighbor as yourself.
God we can pretend to love, loving ourselves may be harder but at least we have a better idea who we are. But our neighbor? Hmmm... I may have to move.
To most people, of course, neighbor is broader than just the people living next door or down the block, but it usually is still limited to people who at least think like us if not necessarily look like us. (All Mets fans are my neighbors; Yankee fans, not so much.)
The young man in today's gospel was eager to do good and be good and he wanted to make sure he covered all his bases so he asked Jesus to define just want he meant by "neighbor." In turn, Jesus gives us the now famous parable of the Good Samaritan.
If Jesus were to use today's examples, we'd have the parable of the Good Muslim, the Good Japanese or the Good Wall Street Broker. That is, anyone whom we consider below us and not worthy of our help, much less our love.
The gospel describes two others, a priest and a Levite, who saw the man lying deathlike on the side of the road and did nothing. Now, in their defense, they were only following the law as they understood it. They were probably going to Jerusalem, if not the Temple, and had to maintain ritual purity if they were to enter. Contact with blood or with the dead would render them ritually impure. So just to be safe--and holy--they cross to the other side.
In life more often then not we are like that priest and Levite. Our position, our family, our job give us excuses for not fulfilling the commandment to love our neighbor. I remember back in 1987 I visited Havana Cuba as part of a trip organized by Columbia Graduate School of Journalism. I remember sitting at the Alvero Dera beach, arguably one of the most beautiful beaches in the world with soft, white sand and clear, warm, turquoise-colored water. I remember sipping a Cuba Libre (rum & Coke) and puffing on a Cuban cigar and thinking, "Ronald Reagan may be the most powerful man in the world, but he will never get to do this."
It's a paradox of life: the more responsibilities we have, the less freedom we enjoy. But Jesus tells all of us who, like the young man in the gospel who wanted to do good and be holy, we have two choices; we can use our positions as excuses to avoid reaching out to others or we can go beyond stereotypes and prejudices and fulfill the commandment to love anyone whom we encounter who needs our help, regardless of race, religion, economic position, political party, social class, sexual orientation, age or illness. And if, as is even the case with priests today (In Maryknoll our lawyers and insurers tell us whether or not we can extend hospitality to "outsiders"), let us at least humbly admit that nothing we do can make us holy. Only God can do that.
God we can pretend to love, loving ourselves may be harder but at least we have a better idea who we are. But our neighbor? Hmmm... I may have to move.
To most people, of course, neighbor is broader than just the people living next door or down the block, but it usually is still limited to people who at least think like us if not necessarily look like us. (All Mets fans are my neighbors; Yankee fans, not so much.)
The young man in today's gospel was eager to do good and be good and he wanted to make sure he covered all his bases so he asked Jesus to define just want he meant by "neighbor." In turn, Jesus gives us the now famous parable of the Good Samaritan.
If Jesus were to use today's examples, we'd have the parable of the Good Muslim, the Good Japanese or the Good Wall Street Broker. That is, anyone whom we consider below us and not worthy of our help, much less our love.
The gospel describes two others, a priest and a Levite, who saw the man lying deathlike on the side of the road and did nothing. Now, in their defense, they were only following the law as they understood it. They were probably going to Jerusalem, if not the Temple, and had to maintain ritual purity if they were to enter. Contact with blood or with the dead would render them ritually impure. So just to be safe--and holy--they cross to the other side.
In life more often then not we are like that priest and Levite. Our position, our family, our job give us excuses for not fulfilling the commandment to love our neighbor. I remember back in 1987 I visited Havana Cuba as part of a trip organized by Columbia Graduate School of Journalism. I remember sitting at the Alvero Dera beach, arguably one of the most beautiful beaches in the world with soft, white sand and clear, warm, turquoise-colored water. I remember sipping a Cuba Libre (rum & Coke) and puffing on a Cuban cigar and thinking, "Ronald Reagan may be the most powerful man in the world, but he will never get to do this."
It's a paradox of life: the more responsibilities we have, the less freedom we enjoy. But Jesus tells all of us who, like the young man in the gospel who wanted to do good and be holy, we have two choices; we can use our positions as excuses to avoid reaching out to others or we can go beyond stereotypes and prejudices and fulfill the commandment to love anyone whom we encounter who needs our help, regardless of race, religion, economic position, political party, social class, sexual orientation, age or illness. And if, as is even the case with priests today (In Maryknoll our lawyers and insurers tell us whether or not we can extend hospitality to "outsiders"), let us at least humbly admit that nothing we do can make us holy. Only God can do that.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Cursed by Freedom (July 4th & St. Andrew Kim)
Today we celebrate two wonderful anniversaries: the feast of St. Andrew Kim Dae Gun and United States Independence Day. These afford us the opportunity to think about and give thanks to God for our faith and for our freedom. We also need to ask ourselves, what is freedom for and how do we use it or abuse it? Likewise we must consider our faith and whether our actions prove to the world if our faith is right or wrong.
Personally, I think our society is cursed with freedom. Not only do we have too much of it but we don’t know what to do with it. Worse, we forget what life was like before we gained our freedom. We gather peacefully in this Church this morning because of the bravery of countless men and women who gave their lives so we could worship as Catholics, Protestants, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus or—and this is the true beauty of freedom—not worship at all. Or not believe in God. It’s our choice and our freedom.
The problem is most of us never had to risk our comfort, let alone our lives, in order to practice our religion. For us the U.S. Constitution guarantees the freedom of religion, but St. Andrew Kim Dae Gun and the blessed martyrs did not have the luxury to sit around and wait for their government to give them the freedom to practice their faith. If you knew for certain being baptized would result in your death, would you do it? If you understood becoming a Catholic priest would cause you and your family to be tortured and killed, would anyone here still want to become a priest?
St. Andrew Kim saw in the Catholic faith a better future, not just for himself but also for Korea. And I see in the Catholic Church in Korea hope for the Catholic Church in the world.
You are so blessed. The blood of the Korean martyrs runs through your veins and you breathe the air of freedom in the United States. The question I ask you is this: are you using your freedom to witness to your faith in this country? And why is this important?
It seems to me in the competition between Christians and Muslims to win the hearts and minds of our own people and to influence secular society, Islam is winning. That is, Muslims are more respectful of their religion than we are of ours. As you know I recently spent a week in Turkey. Turkey is a modern, Muslim country. They are not ashamed to practice their faith in public. What’s more, they are way more respectful of the Prophet Muhammed than we are of Jesus Christ.
Muslims seldom refer to the Prophet by name and when they do, whether in word or in print, they add “Peace be upon him.”
Now Muhammed was a prophet but only a prophet and only a man. We Christians confess Jesus Christ as the Son of God and Savior of the world, yet how much respect do we give the holy name of Jesus? In our society, sad to say, “Jesus Christ” is said more often as a curse than as a blessing. Even among Catholics. Instead of us making society holy, we allow society to make our religion vulgar and use the name of Jesus as a swear word.
But we can change our society; we can change our country; we can change our church if —and only if—we are willing to change ourselves.
Let us thank our Muslim brothers and sisters for the example they have given us. Let us resolve never to use the Name of the Lord in anything but prayer or in a respectful manner. St. Kim Dae Gun gave his life for the Name of Jesus; are we willing to risk the ridicule, scorn and laughter of our friends if we speak up when Jesus’ name is thrown around like so much dirt?
What’s the use of believing we have the true religion if we treat it with contempt? What’s the use of being free if we live as slaves to popularity and pride? Our religion is only as true as we live it.
St. Kim Dae Gun gave us an example, not to be praised but to be followed. We honor him and all the martyrs of Korea not so much by singing their praises but by risking our pride and popularity to imitate them by putting our faith into practice.
Personally, I think our society is cursed with freedom. Not only do we have too much of it but we don’t know what to do with it. Worse, we forget what life was like before we gained our freedom. We gather peacefully in this Church this morning because of the bravery of countless men and women who gave their lives so we could worship as Catholics, Protestants, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus or—and this is the true beauty of freedom—not worship at all. Or not believe in God. It’s our choice and our freedom.
The problem is most of us never had to risk our comfort, let alone our lives, in order to practice our religion. For us the U.S. Constitution guarantees the freedom of religion, but St. Andrew Kim Dae Gun and the blessed martyrs did not have the luxury to sit around and wait for their government to give them the freedom to practice their faith. If you knew for certain being baptized would result in your death, would you do it? If you understood becoming a Catholic priest would cause you and your family to be tortured and killed, would anyone here still want to become a priest?
St. Andrew Kim saw in the Catholic faith a better future, not just for himself but also for Korea. And I see in the Catholic Church in Korea hope for the Catholic Church in the world.
You are so blessed. The blood of the Korean martyrs runs through your veins and you breathe the air of freedom in the United States. The question I ask you is this: are you using your freedom to witness to your faith in this country? And why is this important?
It seems to me in the competition between Christians and Muslims to win the hearts and minds of our own people and to influence secular society, Islam is winning. That is, Muslims are more respectful of their religion than we are of ours. As you know I recently spent a week in Turkey. Turkey is a modern, Muslim country. They are not ashamed to practice their faith in public. What’s more, they are way more respectful of the Prophet Muhammed than we are of Jesus Christ.
Muslims seldom refer to the Prophet by name and when they do, whether in word or in print, they add “Peace be upon him.”
Now Muhammed was a prophet but only a prophet and only a man. We Christians confess Jesus Christ as the Son of God and Savior of the world, yet how much respect do we give the holy name of Jesus? In our society, sad to say, “Jesus Christ” is said more often as a curse than as a blessing. Even among Catholics. Instead of us making society holy, we allow society to make our religion vulgar and use the name of Jesus as a swear word.
But we can change our society; we can change our country; we can change our church if —and only if—we are willing to change ourselves.
Let us thank our Muslim brothers and sisters for the example they have given us. Let us resolve never to use the Name of the Lord in anything but prayer or in a respectful manner. St. Kim Dae Gun gave his life for the Name of Jesus; are we willing to risk the ridicule, scorn and laughter of our friends if we speak up when Jesus’ name is thrown around like so much dirt?
What’s the use of believing we have the true religion if we treat it with contempt? What’s the use of being free if we live as slaves to popularity and pride? Our religion is only as true as we live it.
St. Kim Dae Gun gave us an example, not to be praised but to be followed. We honor him and all the martyrs of Korea not so much by singing their praises but by risking our pride and popularity to imitate them by putting our faith into practice.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
The greater of two goods (13th Sunday, Year C)
A man was entrusted with just enough oil to keep a lighthouse working for a month. But then one day a woman came and said she desperately needed fuel for her stove to cook for her children. Later, another neighbor came by and asked for fuel for his car so he could take his pregnant wife to the hospital. Finally a friend said he needed some fuel for his furnace because his house was very cold and he had elderly parents.
Because the man had a good heart he gave a little oil to each person who asked for some. We might even have done the same thing. After all, isn’t that want Jesus asks us to do? Share what we have with those who are in need?
But then, a terrible storm came and the lighthouse ran out of fuel and went dark. As a result, three ships crashed into the rocks and sank, with the loss of hundreds of lives.
At the investigation, the man tried to explain, but the judge was harsh and clear, “You had one and only one responsibility: to keep the light on in the lighthouse. Because you lost sight of your mission, many lives were lost and many families are now suffering.”
In today’s gospel we hear four examples of people who had to choose between two good options. The first incident is between the messengers of Jesus and the Samaritan villagers. They had heard about Jesus and his message sounded appealing. What holds them back is their patriotism. Samaritans and Jews were bitter enemies. As soon as they learned that Jesus and his disciples were Jews and were heading for Jerusalem, their admiration turned into opposition. How could they betray their loyalty as Samaritans by following a Jewish Messiah?
Patriotism is usually a good thing. It should inspire us to work for the good of our country as well as the good of others. But let us not forget the Nazis were very patriotic. When patriotism becomes the lens through we view and judge all reality, including spiritual and eternal reality, then we are in danger of losing our perspective, losing our way and ultimately losing our souls.
The second incident involves a man who says to Jesus, “I will follow you wherever you go.” Jesus replies, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head” (Luke 9:57-58). Why did Jesus say that? Because discipleship isn’t easy or comfortable. It is good to have high economic goals so that one can provide adequately for oneself and for one’s family. Yet following Jesus may require you to give up the very things that seem to offer you security. When this stands in the way of wholeheartedly following Jesus, then something is terribly wrong.
The third incident is that of the man who wanted first to go bury his father before following Jesus. Burying one’s parents is part of the commandment to “Honor your father and your mother” (Exodus 20:12). So this is a man with high moral principles, a man who keeps the law and is highly concerned about his religious duties. Again this is a very good virtue. Who can criticize it? Yet Jesus is saying we should not allow even religious observance to give us excuses to keep us from following Christ wholeheartedly. After all, if Jesus is who he says he is, the greatest honor we offer our parents is by living our life to spread the Good News.
Finally there is the man who wants to go and say farewell to his family before following Jesus. He follows the example of the prophet Elisha (1st reading) who bid his family farewell before becoming Elijah’s disciple. This man has high social and family values. One could only wish that all men would let their families know their whereabouts at all times! Yet before the urgent call of the kingdom of God, social and family concerns take a back seat. Jesus can save our families; our families cannot save Jesus. “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God” (Luke 9:62.
Many times in life, indeed many times each day, we have to choose, not between something good and something bad, (that would be—or at least should be—easy), but rather between two good things. Should you stay single or get married? Both good choices. Do you get married or enter religious life? Again, good choices. Do you apply to this college that has a good reputation but is expensive, or to that university which is closer to home and specializes in your major? Should you keep the job which you really like or take the one that offers better pay and benefits? Decisions, decisions.
The ultimate question, indeed, the only question, is what does God want for you? That’s easy: a good, meaningful and joy-filled life.
As for decisions, if God would only send you a text message or post a note on your Facebook page or at the very least leave a voice message on your phone, that would be great. Unfortunately, God doesn’t work like that.
It might just mean that God really doesn’t care whether you eat 간짜장 or 된장찌개 for lunch; or whether you should go to Harvard or Queens College, or whether you should head out to Roosevelt Mall after Mass or go bowling at Whitestone. Some things just aren’t all that important. One thing is clear: God wants what is best for you.
And God has given you all you need to make the right choices: a brain with the ability to think and reason, a conscience to let you know what is right and wrong, family and friends to rely upon for advice and help, and common sense. Above all, God has given you faith in Jesus Christ and a community of believers to support and guide you along the right path and help you get up again when things go wrong. God has blessed us with free will. We are free to make our own decisions and make our own mistakes. God can even work with these. When faced with two good choices, do what I do: choose one and then pray, “Lord if this is your will, help me. If not, stop me.” Works every time.
Today’s gospel tells us we cannot be part-time disciples. We cannot take our religion off after Mass on Sunday and store it in a closet till we go to Church. Our faith must permeate and penetrate every aspect of our life: our thoughts, our words, our actions, and our relationships. The Eucharist gives us the courage to answer the question: are we ready and willing to dedicate our lives to the one who gave his life to save us?
Because the man had a good heart he gave a little oil to each person who asked for some. We might even have done the same thing. After all, isn’t that want Jesus asks us to do? Share what we have with those who are in need?
But then, a terrible storm came and the lighthouse ran out of fuel and went dark. As a result, three ships crashed into the rocks and sank, with the loss of hundreds of lives.
At the investigation, the man tried to explain, but the judge was harsh and clear, “You had one and only one responsibility: to keep the light on in the lighthouse. Because you lost sight of your mission, many lives were lost and many families are now suffering.”
In today’s gospel we hear four examples of people who had to choose between two good options. The first incident is between the messengers of Jesus and the Samaritan villagers. They had heard about Jesus and his message sounded appealing. What holds them back is their patriotism. Samaritans and Jews were bitter enemies. As soon as they learned that Jesus and his disciples were Jews and were heading for Jerusalem, their admiration turned into opposition. How could they betray their loyalty as Samaritans by following a Jewish Messiah?
Patriotism is usually a good thing. It should inspire us to work for the good of our country as well as the good of others. But let us not forget the Nazis were very patriotic. When patriotism becomes the lens through we view and judge all reality, including spiritual and eternal reality, then we are in danger of losing our perspective, losing our way and ultimately losing our souls.
The second incident involves a man who says to Jesus, “I will follow you wherever you go.” Jesus replies, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head” (Luke 9:57-58). Why did Jesus say that? Because discipleship isn’t easy or comfortable. It is good to have high economic goals so that one can provide adequately for oneself and for one’s family. Yet following Jesus may require you to give up the very things that seem to offer you security. When this stands in the way of wholeheartedly following Jesus, then something is terribly wrong.
The third incident is that of the man who wanted first to go bury his father before following Jesus. Burying one’s parents is part of the commandment to “Honor your father and your mother” (Exodus 20:12). So this is a man with high moral principles, a man who keeps the law and is highly concerned about his religious duties. Again this is a very good virtue. Who can criticize it? Yet Jesus is saying we should not allow even religious observance to give us excuses to keep us from following Christ wholeheartedly. After all, if Jesus is who he says he is, the greatest honor we offer our parents is by living our life to spread the Good News.
Finally there is the man who wants to go and say farewell to his family before following Jesus. He follows the example of the prophet Elisha (1st reading) who bid his family farewell before becoming Elijah’s disciple. This man has high social and family values. One could only wish that all men would let their families know their whereabouts at all times! Yet before the urgent call of the kingdom of God, social and family concerns take a back seat. Jesus can save our families; our families cannot save Jesus. “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God” (Luke 9:62.
Many times in life, indeed many times each day, we have to choose, not between something good and something bad, (that would be—or at least should be—easy), but rather between two good things. Should you stay single or get married? Both good choices. Do you get married or enter religious life? Again, good choices. Do you apply to this college that has a good reputation but is expensive, or to that university which is closer to home and specializes in your major? Should you keep the job which you really like or take the one that offers better pay and benefits? Decisions, decisions.
The ultimate question, indeed, the only question, is what does God want for you? That’s easy: a good, meaningful and joy-filled life.
As for decisions, if God would only send you a text message or post a note on your Facebook page or at the very least leave a voice message on your phone, that would be great. Unfortunately, God doesn’t work like that.
It might just mean that God really doesn’t care whether you eat 간짜장 or 된장찌개 for lunch; or whether you should go to Harvard or Queens College, or whether you should head out to Roosevelt Mall after Mass or go bowling at Whitestone. Some things just aren’t all that important. One thing is clear: God wants what is best for you.
And God has given you all you need to make the right choices: a brain with the ability to think and reason, a conscience to let you know what is right and wrong, family and friends to rely upon for advice and help, and common sense. Above all, God has given you faith in Jesus Christ and a community of believers to support and guide you along the right path and help you get up again when things go wrong. God has blessed us with free will. We are free to make our own decisions and make our own mistakes. God can even work with these. When faced with two good choices, do what I do: choose one and then pray, “Lord if this is your will, help me. If not, stop me.” Works every time.
Today’s gospel tells us we cannot be part-time disciples. We cannot take our religion off after Mass on Sunday and store it in a closet till we go to Church. Our faith must permeate and penetrate every aspect of our life: our thoughts, our words, our actions, and our relationships. The Eucharist gives us the courage to answer the question: are we ready and willing to dedicate our lives to the one who gave his life to save us?
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Trinity R Us (Trinity Sunday, Year C)
Trinity Sunday Year C
Jesus said, "Who do men say that I am?"
And his disciples answered, "Some say you are John the Baptist returned from the dead; others say Elias, or one of the prophets."
And Jesus answered and said, "But who do you say that I am?"
Simon Peter replied, "Thou art the Logos, the Second Person of the Godhead, existing in the Father before all time as His rationality and then, by an act of His will, being generated, in consideration of the various functions by which God is related to his creation, but only on the fact that Scripture speaks of a Father, and a Son, and a Holy Spirit, each member of the Holy Trinity being coequal with every other member, and each acting inseparably with and interpenetrating every other member, with only an economic subordination within God, but causing no division which would otherwise render the substance no longer simple."
And Jesus answered and said, "What?"
Beloved brothers and sisters in Christ, today the Universal Church celebrates the sublime mystery of the Holy Trinity, a mystery so profound that, at least according to my opening story, even Jesus doesn't understand it. Although the gospels mention Father, Son and Holy Spirit, the word "Trinity" is not found in the Bible. It developed over time as our understanding of God evolved over time.
We literally bow before this mystery. As you know, it is our custom when saying the Glory Be to bow. This is for two reasons. One is because we are praising God as God in the Trinity and there is no greater mystery or truth. But we also bow because this mystery, this solemnity, this truth is also about us.
There is a story about the great St. Augustine of Hippo, (that's Hippo the city in north Africa, not Hippo the animal in the Nile River) who lived in the fourth century. Anyway, he was a great philosopher, theologian and doctor of the Church. Augustine was preoccupied with the Blessed Trinity. He wanted so much to understand the doctrine of one God in three divine persons and to be able to explain it logically.
One day he was walking along the seashore and reflecting on this matter. Suddenly, he saw a little child all alone on the shore. The child made a hole in the sand, ran to the sea with a little cup, filled her cup with sea water, ran up and emptied the cup into the hole she had made in the sand. Back and forth she went to the sea, filled her cup and came and poured it into the hole.
Augustine drew up and said to her, “Little child, what are you doing?”
She replied, “I am trying to empty the sea into this hole.”
Augustine asked her, “How do you think you can empty this immense sea into this tiny hole and with this tiny cup?”
She answered back, “And you, how do you suppose that with your small head you can comprehend the immensity of God?” With that, the child disappeared.
Of course, I would argue that even with just a small cup you can indeed comprehend the ocean. If you filled a small cup with sea water from the Gulf of Mexico, you would learn more than you cared to know about what is happening to the ocean. The more important question is: what does this mean to us?
The mystery of the Holy Trinity is as much about us as it is about God, for we are created in God's image and likeness. In other words, the more we strive to understand God, the more we will understand ourselves. And the more we understand ourselves, the more we will understand God.
We become like the God we worship. People who believe in a warlike God, become violent themselves. People who worship an angry and vengeful God became angry and vindictive. And people who worship and believe in a loving, caring, self-sacrificing God become loving and compassionate people.
The Holy Trinity---Father, Son and Holy Spirit---means that we believe in a God of relationship and community. God is in an eternal, loving and life-giving relationship with the Son. The Son eternally reflects life back to the Father. This love is so powerful and dynamic it generates the Holy Spirit and sends it out to create, fill and renew all things.
We, too, are people who find our meaning and our life in relationship and in community. Now, relationship and community are neutral terms. That is, they can be either good or bad, healthy or unhealthy, life-giving or life-destroying.
Take a few moments and think about the different relationships in your life or in your past. We are born into family relationships. At first we might think our family is perfect, but as we grow older we realize our family is quite dysfunctional. This can discourage us until we look around and see all families are dysfunctional in one way or another. The good news is that our families do not have to be perfect; but they do have to be loving.
Sadly, sometimes we find ourselves in unhealthy relationships, where members abuse, exploit or take each other for granted. This can be so toxic it first destroys love and then it destroys life.
I do not think God wants us to remain in unhealthy relationships---or marriages. Of course everyone has to work at improving their family life and it is work and it is hard. I often tell brides and grooms on their wedding day that a wedding is a one day event, but a marriage is the achievement of a lifetime. I applaud the couples who stay together despite difficulties, but I also commend individuals who have the courage and sense to know when it is not going to work.
And what is our community then but an extension of our family, with all its charm, problems and neuroses? Just like every family faces difficulties, so does every community. But if we always bear in mind that God is the center of our family, of our community and of ourselves, there is no problem we cannot overcome through faith, hope and lots of love, not to mention a lot of patience, humility and forgiveness.
Never forget: we are made in the image and likeness of God. We are called to live in right relationships and in healthy communities. We stand today before the great mystery of the Holy Trinity. We beg God's blessings and graces to help us be better and do better and before this mystery we cannot help but humbly bow.
Jesus said, "Who do men say that I am?"
And his disciples answered, "Some say you are John the Baptist returned from the dead; others say Elias, or one of the prophets."
And Jesus answered and said, "But who do you say that I am?"
Simon Peter replied, "Thou art the Logos, the Second Person of the Godhead, existing in the Father before all time as His rationality and then, by an act of His will, being generated, in consideration of the various functions by which God is related to his creation, but only on the fact that Scripture speaks of a Father, and a Son, and a Holy Spirit, each member of the Holy Trinity being coequal with every other member, and each acting inseparably with and interpenetrating every other member, with only an economic subordination within God, but causing no division which would otherwise render the substance no longer simple."
And Jesus answered and said, "What?"
Beloved brothers and sisters in Christ, today the Universal Church celebrates the sublime mystery of the Holy Trinity, a mystery so profound that, at least according to my opening story, even Jesus doesn't understand it. Although the gospels mention Father, Son and Holy Spirit, the word "Trinity" is not found in the Bible. It developed over time as our understanding of God evolved over time.
We literally bow before this mystery. As you know, it is our custom when saying the Glory Be to bow. This is for two reasons. One is because we are praising God as God in the Trinity and there is no greater mystery or truth. But we also bow because this mystery, this solemnity, this truth is also about us.
There is a story about the great St. Augustine of Hippo, (that's Hippo the city in north Africa, not Hippo the animal in the Nile River) who lived in the fourth century. Anyway, he was a great philosopher, theologian and doctor of the Church. Augustine was preoccupied with the Blessed Trinity. He wanted so much to understand the doctrine of one God in three divine persons and to be able to explain it logically.
One day he was walking along the seashore and reflecting on this matter. Suddenly, he saw a little child all alone on the shore. The child made a hole in the sand, ran to the sea with a little cup, filled her cup with sea water, ran up and emptied the cup into the hole she had made in the sand. Back and forth she went to the sea, filled her cup and came and poured it into the hole.
Augustine drew up and said to her, “Little child, what are you doing?”
She replied, “I am trying to empty the sea into this hole.”
Augustine asked her, “How do you think you can empty this immense sea into this tiny hole and with this tiny cup?”
She answered back, “And you, how do you suppose that with your small head you can comprehend the immensity of God?” With that, the child disappeared.
Of course, I would argue that even with just a small cup you can indeed comprehend the ocean. If you filled a small cup with sea water from the Gulf of Mexico, you would learn more than you cared to know about what is happening to the ocean. The more important question is: what does this mean to us?
The mystery of the Holy Trinity is as much about us as it is about God, for we are created in God's image and likeness. In other words, the more we strive to understand God, the more we will understand ourselves. And the more we understand ourselves, the more we will understand God.
We become like the God we worship. People who believe in a warlike God, become violent themselves. People who worship an angry and vengeful God became angry and vindictive. And people who worship and believe in a loving, caring, self-sacrificing God become loving and compassionate people.
The Holy Trinity---Father, Son and Holy Spirit---means that we believe in a God of relationship and community. God is in an eternal, loving and life-giving relationship with the Son. The Son eternally reflects life back to the Father. This love is so powerful and dynamic it generates the Holy Spirit and sends it out to create, fill and renew all things.
We, too, are people who find our meaning and our life in relationship and in community. Now, relationship and community are neutral terms. That is, they can be either good or bad, healthy or unhealthy, life-giving or life-destroying.
Take a few moments and think about the different relationships in your life or in your past. We are born into family relationships. At first we might think our family is perfect, but as we grow older we realize our family is quite dysfunctional. This can discourage us until we look around and see all families are dysfunctional in one way or another. The good news is that our families do not have to be perfect; but they do have to be loving.
Sadly, sometimes we find ourselves in unhealthy relationships, where members abuse, exploit or take each other for granted. This can be so toxic it first destroys love and then it destroys life.
I do not think God wants us to remain in unhealthy relationships---or marriages. Of course everyone has to work at improving their family life and it is work and it is hard. I often tell brides and grooms on their wedding day that a wedding is a one day event, but a marriage is the achievement of a lifetime. I applaud the couples who stay together despite difficulties, but I also commend individuals who have the courage and sense to know when it is not going to work.
And what is our community then but an extension of our family, with all its charm, problems and neuroses? Just like every family faces difficulties, so does every community. But if we always bear in mind that God is the center of our family, of our community and of ourselves, there is no problem we cannot overcome through faith, hope and lots of love, not to mention a lot of patience, humility and forgiveness.
Never forget: we are made in the image and likeness of God. We are called to live in right relationships and in healthy communities. We stand today before the great mystery of the Holy Trinity. We beg God's blessings and graces to help us be better and do better and before this mystery we cannot help but humbly bow.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
iPad App for the Spirit? (Pentecost, Year C)
Congratulations and happy birthday, Church! Today we celebrate the great and glorious feast of Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit descended on a small, ragtag bunch of trembling disciples and transformed them into fearless proclaimers of the Good News. What’s more, they now had the power to live the message they proclaimed.
As you know, last month the teachers gave me this amazing iPad. Because the iPad was so popular, I had to wait two weeks for it to arrive. Even then I found out I couldn’t use it until I activated it and I couldn’t activate it until I upgraded my laptop computer. Next I had to sign up for internet service and only then did the amazing new world of instant communications and knowledge become available to me.
Next week my cousin, who is also my godfather, and his wife will be celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary. I considered giving them an iPad but first I checked with their children to see what they thought of the idea. They said it a nice thought but it would be a waste of money because my cousin has a brand new Apple laptop computer that he only uses to check email. An iPad would just become a very expensive paperweight.
You can have the most hip, most up-to-date, most technologically advanced piece of computer equipment in the world, but if you don’t know how to use it or even want to learn, what good is it?
You can have the most perfect, most profound, most spiritually enriching religion in the world, but if you don’t know how to activate it or how it really works and don’t care to learn, what good is it? Just as none of our electronic gadgets, from TVs to DVDs to computers, can work long without a power source, so too our religion requires more than just knowing the rules and saying prayers. Do only that and before long you too will run out of energy.
What is Pentecost? For the Jews and for the apostles who, after all, were Jewish, it was the holiday that occurred 50 days after Passover. Passover commemorated their deliverance from slavery; Pentecost commemorated the giving of the Law to Moses in Mount Sinai.
Passover made them free; Pentecost made them a people. The Law of Moses helped them live in a way that showed their special relationship with God. The trouble was, try as they might, it seemed almost impossible to obey all 613 commandments. But on this particular Pentecost, which we just heard about in the first reading from the Acts of the Apostles, something wonderful happened. They received the very Spirit of God to energize them and fill them with wisdom and knowledge and the power to live holy lives. They spoke in new languages and this message of Jesus Christ became available to the peoples of the world.
Pentecost is the birthday of the Church because, unlike every other feast throughout the year, this is not just something that happened in the past. It is an on-going miracle. Since that day in the Upper Room the Holy Spirit has not ceased to pour down upon the earth. Every year we celebrate Jesus’ birth; we commemorate Jesus’ Passion and death; we contemplate his Resurrection; but we participate in Pentecost. Every day. You’ve all seen pictures of that terrible oil spill ongoing in the Gulf of Mexico? Well imagine the Holy Spirit pouring down on us for 2,000 years. Hopefully with better consequences.
That same Spirit which hovered over the waters at creation, that same Spirit that filled the Temple with God’s glory; that same Spirit that covered the Blessed Virgin Mary and allowed her to conceive the Son of God; that same Spirit which raised Jesus from the dead; that same Spirit that descended on the Apostles; that same Spirit that changes simple bread and wine into the Body and Blood of Christ at every Mass, is given to us now at this very moment in this church.
We no longer need to force ourselves to obey the commandments which come from the outside. Now we feel inspired to keep the commandments because the Spirit of God dwells in our hearts.
In a marriage, if the only thing holding a couple together is the law or force of habit, and if the husband and wife need to be told when to communicate, when to apologize, when to forgive, when to sacrifice and when to celebrate, the marriage soon runs out of steam. It becomes routine, it falls into a rut. It becomes work. But if love dwells in their hearts, they don’t do things for each other because they have to; they do it because they want to. They do it because it brings them joy.
Has religion become too much like work? Have you fallen into a rut? Do you come to Mass because your parents or spouse or friend force you to come? Or worse, your conscience? Do you read the Bible or say the rosary only as a penance? Then your faith will soon run out of steam and your religion will be heavier than a paperweight.
But if you allow the Spirit of God to fill your life, that Spirit which you received at Baptism and which was strengthened in your hearts at Confirmation, then you will have access to all the mysteries and wonders of the world around you.
Religion will be exciting because your life will be exciting. You won’t wonder if God is really out there because you will experience God in here. You won’t need an iPad or a special app to connect with the world. But it helps. And sure is fun.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Taking off our training wheels (Ascension of the Lord)
One of the big moments in a child's life comes when she trades in her tricycle for a two-wheeler bike with training wheels. Soon enough the day arrives to remove even these. Self-confidence and independence only come from experience, from trial and error, and above all from overcoming the fear of falling or failing. An anxious but proud parent's guiding hand helps maintain balance for awhile but then comes the moment of truth when the parent lets go and the child rides all on her own. "Mom! Dad! Look what I can do!" This small step on the road to maturity demands a willingness on the part of the parents to let go.
Among other things, the Ascension of Our Lord marks the removal of our spiritual training wheels. Unless we experience Jesus' absence, we will never grow up. Unless we learn to make our own mistakes and learn from them, we will not develop a sense of balance, compassion and justice. More importantly, unless Jesus leaves us we will never experience much less appreciate the power of God within us: the Holy Spirit.
That awkward time between the Ascension and Pentecost was necessary to remind the apostles---and us--that without God we can do nothing, but with God there is nothing we cannot do.
The Ascension also celebrates the holiness, not just of humanity but of all creation. When Jesus ascended into heaven he took his glorified human body with him. His human, albeit resurrected, body was made from the elements of the world around him. Even after rising from the dead, Jesus is recorded as having eaten bread and fish. In other words, God continues to interact with the material world of nature.
The Ascension of our Lord into heaven completes the mystery of the Incarnation when God became human. When the Holy Spirit descended on the Blessed Virgin Mary and she conceived Jesus, her humanity did not explode. You might say that humanity, created from the beginning in the image and likeness of God, was designed specifically to receive the Holy Spirit. Conversely, from all eternity God was prepared for the ultimate marriage between divinity and humanity which was consummated when Jesus ascended body and soul, humanity and divinity into heaven. The Trinity did not implode when he ascended with his human nature into the Godhead. This says as much about God as it does about us. Christmas celebrates God with us; The Ascension celebrates us with God.
Jesus came to earth to take away our sin, that is, our alienation, not just between humans and God but also between humans with one another and between all creation and our Creator. Through the incarnation and ascension of Jesus, all creation participates in the life of God. As such, we must be as deferential and respectful of creation as we are of the bread and wine that become the body and blood of Christ.
Church law mandates that the bread must be made of pure wheat flour with no yeast, that is, no corruption. The wine, too, must be made from grapes with no preservatives and at least 12 percent alcohol.
If we are so careful to safeguard the purity of the material that, through the words of consecration and the Holy Spirit, will become the Body and Blood of Christ, shouldn't we be equally careful of the elements of the world around us that participate in the reign of God and the new creation?
At the Ascension two angels appeared and asked, "Men of Galilee, why do you stand there staring into the sky?" Yes, Jesus has disappeared from our sight but he has not left us. What's more, we have a lot of work to do here on earth. People deserve to know the Good News of what Jesus has done for us. People are literally dying to know their sins are forgiven. People have a right to hear that Jesus saved the world.
If you truly believe Jesus has saved the world, now is the time for all people of faith and good will to do our part and save the earth.
The oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico is only the latest outrage against the environment. Our air is polluted, our rivers contaminated, our oceans dying, our rain forests disappearing. As disciples of Christ who believe God became human on this planet and who consecrated the earth by his presence, we have an obligation to clean up the various messes we humans have made.
We honor God when we take care of the world God made and gave us. We can still save our environment by being mindful of how we live on the earth and of our impact on it. And we can hold individuals as well as companies responsible and accountable for their actions. Let us do our part to clean up our world so one day we, too, as sons and daughters of God, can point with pride to our earth and pray, "Our Father in heaven, look what we can do!"
Sent from my iPad
Sunday, May 9, 2010
What mothers teach us about God (Sixth Sunday of Easter, Year C)
I had the privilege of studying under Rabbi Asher Finkle when I was a seminarian. Seeing Jesus through Jewish eyes deepened my understanding and love for our religion and for our Lord. Our faith is rooted in the Jewish tradition since Jesus, whom we claim as Lord and Savior of the world, was a devout Jew. Among the other things that come to us through Judaism are belief in one God as creator of all; the goodness of creation, one day of rest in a seven day week; the Old Testament and the Ten Commandments; acknowledging God as a God of justice who loves the poor, and calling God our heavenly Father.
One day Rabbi Finkle explained to us why Jews refer to God as Father and not as Mother. He said a mother’s love is actually stronger than a father’s love because it is instinctive. That is, long before it is born, the baby feels the warmth and protection of its mother while still in the mother’s womb. For nine months the baby hears and feels the comforting beat of the mother’s heart. The mother, too, loves the baby growing within her long before she ever sees her child. Mother and child love each other instinctively before they know each other.
A father’s love, on the other hand, is not instinctive, Rabbi Finkle said. It doesn’t come to us naturally. A father must wait for the child to be born and then he must prove himself through his actions to be a strong, loving, providing and protective man. A father’s love comes only through experience.
The Jews, like most people, do not have an instinctive love of God. Rather, they come to know and believe in God because, throughout their lives and throughout their history, they experienced God as their protector and provider.
Interestingly enough, while we call God our Father because of the Jews and because of Jesus, most of us actually learn about God not so much from our fathers as from our mothers. Mothers not only teach us about religion and prayer, they show us what love, compassion, forgiveness, mercy and sacrifice are all about.
Today throughout the United States we honor all our mothers in a special way. We honor the women who gave us life, when they didn’t have to; who gave us milk from their own bodies; who gave us patient instruction and and maybe sometimes not-so gentle correction.
We also honor the mothers who, as we grew older, drive us absolutely crazy because that’s what mothers do best. We honor the mothers who, as they grow older, fill us with frustration and dread as we realize the day will come when they would no longer be with us.
One of the fondest memories I have of my mother was back in 1970 when I was a college senior at Albany State. It was during the Vietnam war and I had a low draft number. My friend Mike Lynch had enlisted in the army earlier that year and before he himself got killed in the war he sent us a letter saying, “Do whatever you have to do to stay out of this war.”
That meant I had two choices: go to Canada or go to jail. So I asked my parents what I should do. You know what my mother said? “Go to jail.” Do you know why? “Because,” she said, “if you go to Canada I’ll never see you but if you got to jail I can visit you all the time.”
So I did go to jail on March 19, 1970 for blocking the draft board in Albany. I wasn’t behind bars more than four hours when my parents came and paid the fine to get me out. That’s when I learned just how frustrating mothers can be. I ended up serving my country by joining the Peace Corps and teaching English in Korea, a decision which led me to join Maryknoll and resulted in my being here with you today. All this because my mother refused to let me play with toy guns as a child!
All my life I dreaded the day when my mother would no longer be with me. When she died in 2002 at the age of 94, amid the tears I felt a profound peace, and among the sadness a profound gratitude. On the day she died I felt she was actually closer to me and my sister than she had even been before. When she was pregnant with us, she carried us within her body. Now that she had died, we carried her within our hearts.
Sometimes it takes death and absence for the heart to appreciate what love is really all about.
And this is what Jesus prepares us for in today’s gospel. The disciples had already experienced the nightmare of his crucifixion and death. Their hearts were overflowing with inexpressible joy at his resurrection. Now Jesus tells them he is going away again, not to abandon them or leave them as orphans but so they can mature in faith. That emptiness they will feel at his absence will again be only temporary. That emptiness will be filled by the Holy Spirit and then Jesus will seem more present and alive than he ever did before, because now he will be alive in them.
And so on this Mother's Day we give thanks and praise to God the Father for the women through whom we received life and love. We give thanks to Jesus for showing us the way to the Father. And we give thanks today to our mothers for teaching us about life and love and faith and Jesus.
One day Rabbi Finkle explained to us why Jews refer to God as Father and not as Mother. He said a mother’s love is actually stronger than a father’s love because it is instinctive. That is, long before it is born, the baby feels the warmth and protection of its mother while still in the mother’s womb. For nine months the baby hears and feels the comforting beat of the mother’s heart. The mother, too, loves the baby growing within her long before she ever sees her child. Mother and child love each other instinctively before they know each other.
A father’s love, on the other hand, is not instinctive, Rabbi Finkle said. It doesn’t come to us naturally. A father must wait for the child to be born and then he must prove himself through his actions to be a strong, loving, providing and protective man. A father’s love comes only through experience.
The Jews, like most people, do not have an instinctive love of God. Rather, they come to know and believe in God because, throughout their lives and throughout their history, they experienced God as their protector and provider.
Interestingly enough, while we call God our Father because of the Jews and because of Jesus, most of us actually learn about God not so much from our fathers as from our mothers. Mothers not only teach us about religion and prayer, they show us what love, compassion, forgiveness, mercy and sacrifice are all about.
Today throughout the United States we honor all our mothers in a special way. We honor the women who gave us life, when they didn’t have to; who gave us milk from their own bodies; who gave us patient instruction and and maybe sometimes not-so gentle correction.
We also honor the mothers who, as we grew older, drive us absolutely crazy because that’s what mothers do best. We honor the mothers who, as they grow older, fill us with frustration and dread as we realize the day will come when they would no longer be with us.
One of the fondest memories I have of my mother was back in 1970 when I was a college senior at Albany State. It was during the Vietnam war and I had a low draft number. My friend Mike Lynch had enlisted in the army earlier that year and before he himself got killed in the war he sent us a letter saying, “Do whatever you have to do to stay out of this war.”
That meant I had two choices: go to Canada or go to jail. So I asked my parents what I should do. You know what my mother said? “Go to jail.” Do you know why? “Because,” she said, “if you go to Canada I’ll never see you but if you got to jail I can visit you all the time.”
So I did go to jail on March 19, 1970 for blocking the draft board in Albany. I wasn’t behind bars more than four hours when my parents came and paid the fine to get me out. That’s when I learned just how frustrating mothers can be. I ended up serving my country by joining the Peace Corps and teaching English in Korea, a decision which led me to join Maryknoll and resulted in my being here with you today. All this because my mother refused to let me play with toy guns as a child!
All my life I dreaded the day when my mother would no longer be with me. When she died in 2002 at the age of 94, amid the tears I felt a profound peace, and among the sadness a profound gratitude. On the day she died I felt she was actually closer to me and my sister than she had even been before. When she was pregnant with us, she carried us within her body. Now that she had died, we carried her within our hearts.
Sometimes it takes death and absence for the heart to appreciate what love is really all about.
And this is what Jesus prepares us for in today’s gospel. The disciples had already experienced the nightmare of his crucifixion and death. Their hearts were overflowing with inexpressible joy at his resurrection. Now Jesus tells them he is going away again, not to abandon them or leave them as orphans but so they can mature in faith. That emptiness they will feel at his absence will again be only temporary. That emptiness will be filled by the Holy Spirit and then Jesus will seem more present and alive than he ever did before, because now he will be alive in them.
And so on this Mother's Day we give thanks and praise to God the Father for the women through whom we received life and love. We give thanks to Jesus for showing us the way to the Father. And we give thanks today to our mothers for teaching us about life and love and faith and Jesus.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
The habit of love (Fifth Sunday of Easter, Year C)
Many years ago there was a famous French artist by the name of Paul Gustave Dore who lost his passport while traveling in Europe. When he came to the border crossing, he explained his predicament to one of the guards. Giving his name to the official, Dore hoped he would be recognized and allowed to pass. The guard, however, said that many people attempted to cross the border by claiming to be persons they were not. "All right," said the official, "I'll give you a test, and if you pass it I'll allow you to go through." Handing him a pencil and a sheet of paper, he asked the artist to sketch a picture of several peasants standing nearby. Dore did it so quickly and skillfully that the guard was convinced he was indeed the famous artist. His action confirmed his identity.
Christians have always had the problem of how to tell the world who we are. Throughout history and still in some places in the world, uniforms have played a very important role in announcing our identity to the world. Think of the various traditional habits of the various Catholic religious orders which distinguish consecrated people not only from ordinary Christians but also from one another. Franciscans wear brown or gray habits. Benedictines wear black. Dominicans wear white. These days, of course, many religious people don’t wear distinguishing clothing at all. Wearing uniforms or religious habits has become less popular. This brings to mind the words of Shakespeare in Measure for Measure, "The hood does not make a monk." In other words, clothes alone do not make us religious, let alone Christian. Actions speak louder than words and much louder than clothing.
The desire for uniforms, religious habits and badges designed to distinguish believers from non-believers does indeed have its place. We are symbolic beings. We need to express our faith in symbolic ways. Jesus himself wrestled with the question of how to distinguish his followers from the non-believers around them. But his command goes much farther than external habits and uniforms. For Jesus the essential mark of distinction between Christians and non-Christians is not in the way we dress but in the way we live.
“I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:34-5).
Love is the Christian identity. Love is the Christian uniform. Love is the Christian habit. If you are wearing the habit of love, you are in. If you are not wearing love as a habit, you are out, no matter how many veils or Roman collars or crucifixes or rosaries you put on.
Jesus wants the world to recognize us as Christians by our deeds of love. We need to witness to people around us. But effective evangelization and witnessing has less to do with how piously we speak and more to do with how faithfully we live.
As you probably have heard, last week a terrible law was passed in the state Arizona giving local law enforcers permission to stop anyone whom they suspect of being in this country illegally and asking for identification and documentation based on how that person looks. What in God’s name does an illegal immigrant look like? Or talk like? Or act like? Do you know which nationality comprises the greatest number of undocumented aliens in this country? The Irish. But they look white. They speak English. They act “normal.” So instead the police will concentrate on brown people who speak with Spanish accents. Many people came to this country from Latin America and other places because their local economies collapsed and they could no longer support their families.
Don’t get me wrong. I understand our borders are broken and the situation has gotten out of hand. Clearly our immigration policies are badly in need of reform. But randomly rounding people up whom police suspect of being here illegally is unjust, unfair, un-American and un-Christian.
How should we, as Christians, as followers of Christ respond in the face of such injustice? We must stand in solidarity with those who suffer persecution. We must pressure our elected leaders to institute comprehensive reform. But above all we must love our neighbors as ourselves, even if they lack a proper visa or green card.
Leviticus 19:33-34 states, “If foreigners dwell in your land and live among you, do not harass them, but treat them like your fellow countrymen. You shall love them as yourselves, for you were once strangers in the land of Egypt.”
My brothers and sisters in Christ, we stand today at the border of the kingdom of God. None of us has a passport. Too many people claim to be Christian but do not put the Gospel into practice. Our daily habits and not a religious habit mark us as true followers of Christ. Let us never hesitate to do what is good and just and right, even if we encounter opposition for only then will America live up to its creed and only then will we as Catholics be true to our calling.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
The Good Sanitation Worker (Fourth Sunday of Easter, Year C)
Today is often referred to as Good Shepherd Sunday, a time to pray for vocations and also for those who currently shepherd the flock. There are some problems with this image, at least for me. First of all, my guess is that most of you have never seen or touched or smelled a real, live sheep, much less a real shepherd. Our holy cards have sanitized what shepherds were really like.
In Jesus’ time, shepherds were looked down upon. They performed an essential task for the community, but their job made them highly unpopular. They smelled funny. They were uneducated and ill-mannered. Their job did not allow them the luxury of keeping the Sabbath and therefore, in addition to being unwashed, they were ritually unclean.
On the other hand, they were strong, dedicated and brave. They could easily flatten a wolf. They were tireless in their search for lost sheep. They acted as living gatekeepers, literally lying down at the entrance to the sheep pen at night so no sheep could escape and no wolf get in. My main objection to the image of shepherd, however, is not to how bad a shepherd smells but what his ultimate goal is: he protects the sheep until he can fleece them. Or worse.
I think a more appropriate image would be to think of Jesus as the Good Sanitation Worker. Think about it. Like shepherds in years past, the sanitation worker performs an essential function for our society. Nevertheless, most people look down on garbage collectors because, like shepherds, they also smell funny. But think of what a mess we would have if we had no sanitation workers.
Jesus, our good sanitation worker, takes away our spiritual garbage. But best of all, he helps us recycle. He looks at what is broken and worn out in our lives and shows us ways to repair and renew ourselves and our relationships.
Today’s priests follow in Jesus’ footsteps, more as spiritual sanitation workers than as shepherds, even though the word “pastor” originally meant shepherd. Through confession and the sacrament of reconciliation, priests help us unburden our souls of the garbage we have collected over time. Through counseling they help us recycle our lives.
These days, because of the scandals that continue to rock the Church, the priesthood has probably fallen lower in many people’s eyes even than sanitation workers. Power, privilege and prestige no longer mark the priesthood. Good. The only thing worse than a priest shortage would be for young men to want to become priests for the wrong reasons.
But the People of God still need men of courage, humility and sacrifice willing to take on the essential role of helping Christ clean up his church. We need good, Catholic parents who, though mindful of the faults of too many churchmen, are still proud to be known as Catholics and are willing to encourage their sons and daughters to enter religious life.
With fewer men entering the priesthood, is it any wonder the garbage is starting to pile up? Yet despite all its current problems, despite all its past sins, the Roman Catholic faith is still capable of great holiness and goodness and has the potential to once again bring the light of Christ to our wounded and broken world in dire need of healing, justice, peace, hope and love.
Perhaps as you listen to me this morning, some of you young people feel the stirrings of the Holy Spirit calling you to follow Christ by becoming a spiritual sanitation worker. We need you. We are counting on you. With you, the Church may once again become a shining example of sacred service to the Gospel of Christ and the Reign of God. Without you, what was once beautiful about Catholicism will be hidden by so much trash.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Peter's Penance (Third Sunday of Easter, Year C)
Poor Peter. What a sorry excuse for a disciple. He was not only a liar, denying Jesus three times, he was also a coward, running away when Jesus needed him most. No wonder when he heard the news Jesus had risen from the dead, his heart sank. He knew he was not worthy to be the prince of apostles, much less the first pope. So after the joy of that first Easter faded, he feared there was no place for him in the kingdom of God. He went back to the only thing he really knew how to do. He went fishing.
The trouble is, he wasn’t even good at that any more. He and his companions caught nothing. When Jesus again appeared to them, poor Peter was so confused he actually put his clothes on and then jumped into the water. That man was a mess.
Now Peter’s healing begins. He had denied knowing the Lord three times, so three times Jesus asks him to confess his love. Each time, Jesus tells him “Feed my sheep.” Jesus calls him by his original name: Simon, son of John. This is significant. Perhaps Jesus concedes Peter has forfeited the right to be called the “Rock,” since clearly his faith had been so shaky it would have made a poor foundation upon which to build a church.
Instead, Jesus wants him to feed the sheep with what Peter had personally experienced following his unspeakable sin: unconditional forgiveness. This wasn’t something he read about in a book. He could now preach to the world about forgiveness because he, the least worthy to be an apostle, had received forgiveness. In many ways, Peter’s sin was worse than Judas’s. If Judas isn’t a saint it’s not because he betrayed our Lord but because he refused the Lord’s forgiveness and, instead, committed suicide. Peter, for his part, when he realized what he had done, broke down in tears. Tears of repentance.
It is the forgiveness Peter received that feeds us here today. If he can be forgiven, than so can we. Our sins pale by comparison.
These days, as you know, our Holy Father, Pope Benedict, the successor of St. Peter, must also be feeling unworthy. He probably wishes he too can just forget about the whole mess and go fishing. No doubt his reputation and even his authority have been seriously damaged by recent revelations. Last week he called for repentance in the Church. This can only be accomplished in a spirit of humility. It does no good to blame the press, or blame this group or that group for problems you yourself created.
But if the Holy Father, whose past mistakes have been so painfully exposed, puts on the clothing of humility and jumps into the waters of sincere repentance, I for one am more than ready to join him. Yes, priests have committed unspeakable sins in the past; yes bishops, out of misplaced loyalty and shocking incompetence, have brought scandal and confusion to the People of God. But today the Risen Lord stands before each of them as he stood before Peter and asks, “Do you love me more than these? If so, then feed my sheep—from your humility, not from your arrogance; from your honesty, not from your belligerence; from your repentance, not from your pride.”
Do this and the world, which seems to take delight in the Church’s disgrace, will stand in awe at the Church’s inevitable resurrection.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Jesus’ Easter gift of peace (Divine Mercy Sunday, Year C)
After Mass one Sunday, a man said to the priest, “You know, Father, I’ve been attending Mass for many years now and you always talk about the same old thing, ‘Christ is born’ or ‘Jesus is risen.’” The priest didn’t recognize the man and asked him when he normally attended Mass. He replied, “I come faithfully every Christmas and every Easter.”
In today’s gospel, Thomas is like that man. He was away from the gathering of believers that Sunday evening when the Risen Lord appeared to them. He did not believe their testimony. He wanted to see and touch the wounds of Christ for himself. He wanted physical proof.
The Risen Lord turns Thomas’s initial doubt into the great confession of faith, “My Lord and my God!”
The name Thomas means twin, yet the gospel makes no mention of who his twin is. I think it’s all of us. We are very much like Thomas. We too often absent ourselves from gathering with the disciples and then wonder why our faith is shaky and doubt whether Christ is really, truly risen from the dead.
Why is this important? Because unless we gather with other believers and unless we experience the presence of Christ in our midst, we will not receive the divine gift of the Risen Lord: the peace of Christ.
What is this peace that Christ gives us? It doesn’t mean we’ll have no difficulties. It doesn’t mean we’ll experience no dangers. It doesn’t even mean we live lives free of controversy or confusion. It means that as we live our daily lives of faith in an increasingly hostile world, that despite all opposition, that despite all kinds of problems, failures and setbacks, that even though our world may be collapsing all around us, our hearts are calm, our spirits remain strong, our minds abide in peace because the risen Lord is with us and within us.
After receiving the peace of Christ, the apostles experienced increasing opposition and persecution because they dared proclaim Christ crucified and risen. But it was the peace of Christ that sustained them when they were cursed, beaten, arrested and even killed. It didn’t matter how much the world raged against them. They knew the battle was already over, the war was already won, the victory already assured.
May each of you experience that profound peace today and every day. It is the peace the world cannot give. It is not the peace that comes from humiliating, defeating and destroying our enemies, but rather it comes from our refusal to think and act like our enemies, and to destroy them—not by killing them—but simply by recognizing them as fellow sinners in need of the same mercy, forgiveness and peace of Christ, as are we all.
May the peace of Christ take you from confusion to conviction, from doubt to determination, and from fear to faith.
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