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.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
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.
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