Making Moral Decisions
Today a typical moral dilemma arose when I was trying to screw on the protective shield under my car. The last screw that I had would not tighten. I did not want to leave it loose because it might fall out and become a minor road hazard. Once I caught a similar screw in my tire which required a repair.
But try as I might, it would not tighten. And it was difficult to maneuver since I was lying down without much room -- no more than a foot. What should I have done? Take the screw out of the hole and search for another? But I had already gone to a car repair and twice to a hardware store to find the screws that I had. Or should I have taken the chance that the screw would not come out? It was snug although I could not get it tight like the others.
The situation approximates many in our moral lives. We are not certain if what we do will cause harm. Perhaps it might, but perhaps we just worry too much! There was no one to check with. And the possible harm was not certain and probably not serious.
Finally, I let the screw stay where it was. I also said a prayer which should accompany any troubling decision. We pray that we do no harm and, as a corollary, that we are not deceiving ourselves. Tomorrow I will check to see if the screw held. I also might try replacing the simple screw with a screw and bolt. I think that my conscinece will allow me to sleep tonight.
Homilette for Tuesday, January 30, 2007
(Mark 5)
The eminent psychologist Carl Rogers purportedly gave this breath-taking yet self-evident statistic, “One out of every one of us is hurting.” It is true. No one escapes suffering. Not only the poor and the sick need assistance. Conquerors of nations are sometimes insecure. And utterly beautiful women can worry if they are attractive.
Because pain pollutes the world like jet fuel the atmosphere around an airport, crowds besiege Jesus in the gospel today. Could he heal a sick child? Could he stop the chronic hemorrhaging of an impoverished woman? No doubt, he had a hundred similar requests as he steps across the sand. What would we add if we were there? Could he cure my cold? Could he lift me from depression?
Jesus generally takes note of our faith and grants our requests. At some point, however, he will have us stretch our faith into eternity. What we seek will not be immediately granted. We will die without experiencing a release from suffering. Then we will await his voice, “Little girl, arise” or “Little boy, arise.” And just like the twelve-year-old in the gospel, we will arise to a new world. We will be finally freed from all hurt and anxiety because Jesus will be fully present.
The eminent psychologist Carl Rogers purportedly gave this breath-taking yet self-evident statistic, “One out of every one of us is hurting.” It is true. No one escapes suffering. Not only the poor and the sick need assistance. Conquerors of nations are sometimes insecure. And utterly beautiful women can worry if they are attractive.
Because pain pollutes the world like jet fuel the atmosphere around an airport, crowds besiege Jesus in the gospel today. Could he heal a sick child? Could he stop the chronic hemorrhaging of an impoverished woman? No doubt, he had a hundred similar requests as he steps across the sand. What would we add if we were there? Could he cure my cold? Could he lift me from depression?
Jesus generally takes note of our faith and grants our requests. At some point, however, he will have us stretch our faith into eternity. What we seek will not be immediately granted. We will die without experiencing a release from suffering. Then we will await his voice, “Little girl, arise” or “Little boy, arise.” And just like the twelve-year-old in the gospel, we will arise to a new world. We will be finally freed from all hurt and anxiety because Jesus will be fully present.
Homilette for Monday, January 29, 2007
(Mark 5)
Dietrich Bonhoeffer was a German Protestant theologian who taught in the United States before World War II. When Bonhoeffer returned to Germany in the early 1930s, he found himself opposing the rule of the Nazis. Eventually, he was executed for taking part in a plot to kill Hitler. Before he died, he wrote a book called The Cost of Discipleship. In it the theologian explains that there is no such thing as cheap grace. Rather, it will cost one to be a Christian.
Some people are unwilling to pay the price. In the gospel today the Geresene townspeople show no interest in Jesus since he already cost them two thousand head of pigs. Too earnest businesspeople, they cannot appreciate Jesus’ restoring to sanity one of their townspeople, but only take note of their losses.
What does it cost us to follow Jesus? A half hour’s sleep in the morning? Maybe we have to eat our words rather than lash out at some perceived unfairness? Whatever it is, it is a bargain. What we expend is not ours to begin with, but a gift from God. What we receive, is eternal life – the joy of Jesus’ eternal companionship.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer was a German Protestant theologian who taught in the United States before World War II. When Bonhoeffer returned to Germany in the early 1930s, he found himself opposing the rule of the Nazis. Eventually, he was executed for taking part in a plot to kill Hitler. Before he died, he wrote a book called The Cost of Discipleship. In it the theologian explains that there is no such thing as cheap grace. Rather, it will cost one to be a Christian.
Some people are unwilling to pay the price. In the gospel today the Geresene townspeople show no interest in Jesus since he already cost them two thousand head of pigs. Too earnest businesspeople, they cannot appreciate Jesus’ restoring to sanity one of their townspeople, but only take note of their losses.
What does it cost us to follow Jesus? A half hour’s sleep in the morning? Maybe we have to eat our words rather than lash out at some perceived unfairness? Whatever it is, it is a bargain. What we expend is not ours to begin with, but a gift from God. What we receive, is eternal life – the joy of Jesus’ eternal companionship.
Reflection for Friday, January 19, 2007
In December I preached at the Mass in honor of Our Lady of Guadalupe in St. Helena, California. I tried to encourage the people present to value their families in fidelity to the Virgin Mother. I mentioned that family values do not include abortion or homosexual marriage.
Yesterday someone handed me the local newspaper which covered the event. The reporter had approached me after Mass to ask about the feast. I explained its significance and mentioned what I said in the homily. Unfortunately his article misstated my point. He had written that I urged the people to oppose homosexuality, not homosexual marriage. Perhaps he heard the second as the first. Anyway, the difference is crucial.
How can Catholics oppose homosexuality? It is like saying one opposes a bipolar condition. Although choice may have a role in one’s sexual orientation, it seems to be multi-faceted with some genetic input. Homosexuality cannot be called a moral evil. What may be considered morally evil are homosexual acts which, the Church teaches, are wrong since they violate the purpose of sexual relations.
Homosexual marriage does society a tremendous disservice as it attempts to institutionalize wrongful sexual relationships. It may have catastrophic social effects as birth rates may plummet with escalating numbers of these so-called marriages. More personally, it may encourage many maturing young men and women to make mistaken conclusions about their lives thus depriving them of the truly wonderful experiences of child-bearing and child-rearing.
Yesterday someone handed me the local newspaper which covered the event. The reporter had approached me after Mass to ask about the feast. I explained its significance and mentioned what I said in the homily. Unfortunately his article misstated my point. He had written that I urged the people to oppose homosexuality, not homosexual marriage. Perhaps he heard the second as the first. Anyway, the difference is crucial.
How can Catholics oppose homosexuality? It is like saying one opposes a bipolar condition. Although choice may have a role in one’s sexual orientation, it seems to be multi-faceted with some genetic input. Homosexuality cannot be called a moral evil. What may be considered morally evil are homosexual acts which, the Church teaches, are wrong since they violate the purpose of sexual relations.
Homosexual marriage does society a tremendous disservice as it attempts to institutionalize wrongful sexual relationships. It may have catastrophic social effects as birth rates may plummet with escalating numbers of these so-called marriages. More personally, it may encourage many maturing young men and women to make mistaken conclusions about their lives thus depriving them of the truly wonderful experiences of child-bearing and child-rearing.
Reflection for Friday, January 19, 2007
In December I preached at the Mass in honor of Our Lady of Guadalupe in St. Helena, California. I tried to encourage the people present to value their families in fidelity to the Virgin Mother. I mentioned that family values do not include abortion or homosexual marriage.
Yesterday someone handed me the local newspaper which covered the event. The reporter had approached me after Mass to ask about the feast. I explained its significance and mentioned what I said in the homily. Unfortunately his article misstated my point. He had written that I urged the people to oppose homosexuality, not homosexual marriage. Perhaps he heard the second as the first. Anyway, the difference is crucial.
How can Catholics oppose homosexuality? It is like saying one opposes a bipolar condition. Although choice may have a role in one’s sexual orientation, it seems to be multi-faceted with some genetic input. Homosexuality cannot be called a moral evil. What may be considered morally evil are homosexual acts which, the Church teaches, are wrong since they violate the purpose of sexual relations.
Homosexual marriage does society a tremendous disservice as it attempts to institutionalize wrongful sexual relationships. It may have catastrophic social effects as birth rates may plummet with escalating numbers of these so-called marriages. More personally, it may encourage many maturing young men and women to make mistaken conclusions about their lives thus depriving them of the truly wonderful experiences of child-bearing and child-rearing.
Yesterday someone handed me the local newspaper which covered the event. The reporter had approached me after Mass to ask about the feast. I explained its significance and mentioned what I said in the homily. Unfortunately his article misstated my point. He had written that I urged the people to oppose homosexuality, not homosexual marriage. Perhaps he heard the second as the first. Anyway, the difference is crucial.
How can Catholics oppose homosexuality? It is like saying one opposes a bipolar condition. Although choice may have a role in one’s sexual orientation, it seems to be multi-faceted with some genetic input. Homosexuality cannot be called a moral evil. What may be considered morally evil are homosexual acts which, the Church teaches, are wrong since they violate the purpose of sexual relations.
Homosexual marriage does society a tremendous disservice as it attempts to institutionalize wrongful sexual relationships. It may have catastrophic social effects as birth rates may plummet with escalating numbers of these so-called marriages. More personally, it may encourage many maturing young men and women to make mistaken conclusions about their lives thus depriving them of the truly wonderful experiences of child-bearing and child-rearing.
Homilette for Thursday, January 18, 2007
(Mark 3)
The Ganges River holds a revered place in Hinduism. Men and woman in tremendous numbers converge on it for healing. People believe that by drinking its waters they might have eternal life.
In today’s gospel Jesus becomes a kind of Ganges River. He attracts huge numbers of people from the four corners of Palestine for healing. Jesus tells the demons whom he casts out not to mention that he is the Son of God. Evidently, he is not only concerned that the people would get the wrong idea of what this means. Any greater numbers would only create insoluble problems of logistics.
Today Jesus is more accessible in the Eucharist. But we Mass-goers might ask ourselves, why do we seek him? Is it for some advantage like healing? Or do we wish to learn from him the ways of everlasting life? Of course, this too is a terrific advantage, but it recognizes that some effort on our part will be called forth. When we come to Jesus, we must be ready to change our ways. If not, no matter how many advantages there are in his touch, in the long run it will not help us.
The Ganges River holds a revered place in Hinduism. Men and woman in tremendous numbers converge on it for healing. People believe that by drinking its waters they might have eternal life.
In today’s gospel Jesus becomes a kind of Ganges River. He attracts huge numbers of people from the four corners of Palestine for healing. Jesus tells the demons whom he casts out not to mention that he is the Son of God. Evidently, he is not only concerned that the people would get the wrong idea of what this means. Any greater numbers would only create insoluble problems of logistics.
Today Jesus is more accessible in the Eucharist. But we Mass-goers might ask ourselves, why do we seek him? Is it for some advantage like healing? Or do we wish to learn from him the ways of everlasting life? Of course, this too is a terrific advantage, but it recognizes that some effort on our part will be called forth. When we come to Jesus, we must be ready to change our ways. If not, no matter how many advantages there are in his touch, in the long run it will not help us.
Homilette for Wednesday, January 17, 2007
(Hebrews 7)
Once a seminary professor was complaining to his class about the way evangelicals pray. “Why do you always say ‘just,’”? he asked. “Why do you have to say, ‘we just want to thank you, Lord,” and “we just want to ask you, Lord.” A student answered somewhat testily. “Just is a word we used to express awe,” he said. “We don’t feel that we are on equal terms with God. I suppose that when you are a seminary professor, you can walk right up to God and act like a pal.”
It’s true. Sometimes when we pray, we forget to whom we are talking. God is so much greater than we that we might as well be fruit flies communicating with a whale. What is remarkable – no, more than that, stupendous – is how much God wants to hear us. He sent His Son to open communication lines with us. It is as if for something of the utmost international importance, George W. Bush would not send Condoleezza Rice but his own father, the senior George Bush, whom he trusts intimately and completely.
This is the point which The Letter to the Hebrews makes today and over and over again. Jesus Christ is not the ordinary priest but unique perhaps akin to Melchizedek who makes a fleeting appearance in the Book of Genesis. He is the one most worth praying to because he has complete access to God since he came from and has returned to Him. Furthermore, he knows our condition intimately since he walked our ways. We also must never stop entrusting our lives to him.
Once a seminary professor was complaining to his class about the way evangelicals pray. “Why do you always say ‘just,’”? he asked. “Why do you have to say, ‘we just want to thank you, Lord,” and “we just want to ask you, Lord.” A student answered somewhat testily. “Just is a word we used to express awe,” he said. “We don’t feel that we are on equal terms with God. I suppose that when you are a seminary professor, you can walk right up to God and act like a pal.”
It’s true. Sometimes when we pray, we forget to whom we are talking. God is so much greater than we that we might as well be fruit flies communicating with a whale. What is remarkable – no, more than that, stupendous – is how much God wants to hear us. He sent His Son to open communication lines with us. It is as if for something of the utmost international importance, George W. Bush would not send Condoleezza Rice but his own father, the senior George Bush, whom he trusts intimately and completely.
This is the point which The Letter to the Hebrews makes today and over and over again. Jesus Christ is not the ordinary priest but unique perhaps akin to Melchizedek who makes a fleeting appearance in the Book of Genesis. He is the one most worth praying to because he has complete access to God since he came from and has returned to Him. Furthermore, he knows our condition intimately since he walked our ways. We also must never stop entrusting our lives to him.
Reflection on Self-transcendence
In Bernard Lonergan's classic Method in Theology the author constantly urges the reader to "be attentive, be intelligent, be reasonable, be responsible." This is not only the way to self-transcendence but also one's contribution to social progress. Such a program requires forsaking one's egotistical motives in order to attend to reality.
The fact that very often we fail to transcend ourselves probably indicates our sinfulness. Our sins are both of commission and omission. We falsely treat the reality that is before us and we just allow it to pass us by. It might sound strange to confess "failure to transcend myself one hundred and twenty-three times" but it's a corrective to us who sleep easy most nights thinking that we do not sin.
We are saddened by our own and others' personal failure but we truly fear social deterioration. A society also can fail to deal with the reality that faces it as it responds to the needs of everyone. Such a situation diminshes everyone's possibility of self-transcendence and may produce an impossible living arrangement.
The fact that very often we fail to transcend ourselves probably indicates our sinfulness. Our sins are both of commission and omission. We falsely treat the reality that is before us and we just allow it to pass us by. It might sound strange to confess "failure to transcend myself one hundred and twenty-three times" but it's a corrective to us who sleep easy most nights thinking that we do not sin.
We are saddened by our own and others' personal failure but we truly fear social deterioration. A society also can fail to deal with the reality that faces it as it responds to the needs of everyone. Such a situation diminshes everyone's possibility of self-transcendence and may produce an impossible living arrangement.
Homilette for Thursday, January 11, 2007
(Mark 1)
Fifty years or so ago, a journalist named John Howard Griffin made a shocking social experiment. He had his skin dyed black and toured the South to see how people would treat him. He had trouble finding a public restroom that he could use. In general, wherever before he would have had easy access, now he was treated with suspicion. We could say that the insider became an outsider. Eventually, Griffin published the account of his travails in the book Black Like Me which helped soften white resistance to the American civil rights movement.
In the gospel today Jesus experiences something similar. When he cures the leper, his fame spread so pervasively that he could no longer enter any town without being overwhelmed by sick people. He is the insider who becomes an outsider. Ironically, the leper who by law had to remain outside populated areas can now enter towns freely. Thus, the outsider becomes an insider.
Often people who do church work feel swamped by requests. They may not only read at Mass but also teach a religious education class and perhaps deliver groceries for the St. Vincent de Paul Society. They may feel like they are becoming outsiders to their families. Of course, some prudence is called for in accepting requests to do church work or any other activity. But when we do it for the Lord, the gospel today reassures us that we are also doing with the Lord.
Fifty years or so ago, a journalist named John Howard Griffin made a shocking social experiment. He had his skin dyed black and toured the South to see how people would treat him. He had trouble finding a public restroom that he could use. In general, wherever before he would have had easy access, now he was treated with suspicion. We could say that the insider became an outsider. Eventually, Griffin published the account of his travails in the book Black Like Me which helped soften white resistance to the American civil rights movement.
In the gospel today Jesus experiences something similar. When he cures the leper, his fame spread so pervasively that he could no longer enter any town without being overwhelmed by sick people. He is the insider who becomes an outsider. Ironically, the leper who by law had to remain outside populated areas can now enter towns freely. Thus, the outsider becomes an insider.
Often people who do church work feel swamped by requests. They may not only read at Mass but also teach a religious education class and perhaps deliver groceries for the St. Vincent de Paul Society. They may feel like they are becoming outsiders to their families. Of course, some prudence is called for in accepting requests to do church work or any other activity. But when we do it for the Lord, the gospel today reassures us that we are also doing with the Lord.
Homilette for Wedensday, January 10, 2007
(Hebrews 2)
In the 1940s and 1950s a number of priests in France set out early in the morning to work in factories and on docks. These worker-priests saw that many laborers were no longer coming to church. So they brought the gospel message to them. It became a contentious experiment, however. The worker-priests promoted labor union activity which was, of course, opposed by company managers who did go to church. Eventually, the worker-priests were told by the hierarchy to leave their jobs.
The worker-priest movement perhaps found its inspiration in the part of the Letter to the Hebrews that we read today. Just as Jesus Christ had to experience the human condition in order save humanity from sin so the priests in mid-20th century France had to work side-by-side with the common people. The reading is quite explicit. Jesus was tried by suffering, it says, so that he might help others who suffer.
Suffering is part of every human life but especially the Christian life. Jesus tells his disciples to take up their cross and follow him. That is, we should not avoid suffering at all costs but rather embrace it when it comes our way in order to serve our Lord. When we are sick, we can bear with the discomfort as an offering in prayer to God for others’ salvation. When we are well but find it distasteful to visit the sick, we should not shirk that responsibility. Doing it, we suffer with Christ again for others’ welfare.
In the 1940s and 1950s a number of priests in France set out early in the morning to work in factories and on docks. These worker-priests saw that many laborers were no longer coming to church. So they brought the gospel message to them. It became a contentious experiment, however. The worker-priests promoted labor union activity which was, of course, opposed by company managers who did go to church. Eventually, the worker-priests were told by the hierarchy to leave their jobs.
The worker-priest movement perhaps found its inspiration in the part of the Letter to the Hebrews that we read today. Just as Jesus Christ had to experience the human condition in order save humanity from sin so the priests in mid-20th century France had to work side-by-side with the common people. The reading is quite explicit. Jesus was tried by suffering, it says, so that he might help others who suffer.
Suffering is part of every human life but especially the Christian life. Jesus tells his disciples to take up their cross and follow him. That is, we should not avoid suffering at all costs but rather embrace it when it comes our way in order to serve our Lord. When we are sick, we can bear with the discomfort as an offering in prayer to God for others’ salvation. When we are well but find it distasteful to visit the sick, we should not shirk that responsibility. Doing it, we suffer with Christ again for others’ welfare.
Homilette for Tuesday, January 9, 2007
(Mark 2)
Every once in a while we see criticism of humanism from Christian groups. According to these people humanism is the archenemy of faith because it seeks to replace the primacy of God with that of humans. But certainly this criticism is short-sighted. There are great saints like Thomas More who were humanists. Even Pope John Paul II was considered a Christian humanist. Condemning humanism as anti-Christian would be like condemning radio with the same label. Just as there are quality radio programs – some that even promote the gospel message – so also are most forms of humanism beneficial.
Humanism endeavors to promote all men and women, not just the rich or the educated, but poor and simple people as well. It says that the value of any individual human should not be ignored. It is true that some humanists get carried away with these ideas. Secular humanists, for example, would say that God does not exist. Indeed, they make humans gods of themselves with the authority to make all laws as they see fit. But this is an aberration.
In the gospel Jesus shows how God Himself may be called a humanist. When a man who is possessed by a devil comes before him, he takes pity. Right away, he casts out the devil so the man may have his life back. The fact that he does this on the Sabbath doubly indicates God’s love for every human being. Saturday is considered a holy day to honor God by taking rest. Jesus’ healing the possessed man on the Sabbath indicates that God is honored more by restoring humans to their full senses than by compliance with the letter of the law.
Every once in a while we see criticism of humanism from Christian groups. According to these people humanism is the archenemy of faith because it seeks to replace the primacy of God with that of humans. But certainly this criticism is short-sighted. There are great saints like Thomas More who were humanists. Even Pope John Paul II was considered a Christian humanist. Condemning humanism as anti-Christian would be like condemning radio with the same label. Just as there are quality radio programs – some that even promote the gospel message – so also are most forms of humanism beneficial.
Humanism endeavors to promote all men and women, not just the rich or the educated, but poor and simple people as well. It says that the value of any individual human should not be ignored. It is true that some humanists get carried away with these ideas. Secular humanists, for example, would say that God does not exist. Indeed, they make humans gods of themselves with the authority to make all laws as they see fit. But this is an aberration.
In the gospel Jesus shows how God Himself may be called a humanist. When a man who is possessed by a devil comes before him, he takes pity. Right away, he casts out the devil so the man may have his life back. The fact that he does this on the Sabbath doubly indicates God’s love for every human being. Saturday is considered a holy day to honor God by taking rest. Jesus’ healing the possessed man on the Sabbath indicates that God is honored more by restoring humans to their full senses than by compliance with the letter of the law.
Homilette for Monday, January 8
Feast of the Baptism of the Lord, January 8, 2007
Once after a liturgical service, the bishop joined the food line. Certainly no one told him to wait in line. No doubt many people would have been glad to serve him. In fact, some workers at the host parish were probably embarrassed that the bishop was standing in line. But he wanted to be there. He did not want to put himself ahead of the people. For this one time, he was to be seen as one of them.
Jesus probably submits to John’s baptism for this same reason. Like the bishop he too wants to be seen as one of the people. This is not a show, however. Although he has no sin, he still experiences a kind of repentance. Repentance translates the Greek word metanoia which means a change of mind. Jesus has changed his mind in a sense. He has put away his carpenter’s hammer. From here on, he will take up the mission that God, his heavenly Father, has given him. He is setting out to save the world.
The dove that descends over Jesus indicates a new creation. In Genesis the original creation begins with the Holy Spirit fluttering the like a bird over the great abyss. Now God will reform heaven and earth through Jesus. It is a breath-taking moment. The heavens have been closed for years. God has been long silent. Now he speaks: “You are my beloved son.” We can only expect something truly awesome from Jesus.
Once after a liturgical service, the bishop joined the food line. Certainly no one told him to wait in line. No doubt many people would have been glad to serve him. In fact, some workers at the host parish were probably embarrassed that the bishop was standing in line. But he wanted to be there. He did not want to put himself ahead of the people. For this one time, he was to be seen as one of them.
Jesus probably submits to John’s baptism for this same reason. Like the bishop he too wants to be seen as one of the people. This is not a show, however. Although he has no sin, he still experiences a kind of repentance. Repentance translates the Greek word metanoia which means a change of mind. Jesus has changed his mind in a sense. He has put away his carpenter’s hammer. From here on, he will take up the mission that God, his heavenly Father, has given him. He is setting out to save the world.
The dove that descends over Jesus indicates a new creation. In Genesis the original creation begins with the Holy Spirit fluttering the like a bird over the great abyss. Now God will reform heaven and earth through Jesus. It is a breath-taking moment. The heavens have been closed for years. God has been long silent. Now he speaks: “You are my beloved son.” We can only expect something truly awesome from Jesus.
Homilette for Thursday, January 3, 2007
The Memorial of St. Elizabeth Ann Seton (John 1)
In Dostoevsky’s novel Crime and Punishment a killer falls in love with a prostitute. He eventually confesses his crime and is sent to prison in Siberia. She follows him not because she enjoys punishment but because she loves him. The same self-sacrificing love explains why John’s disciples decide to stay with Jesus. They must realize that when John calls Jesus “the lamb of God,” he means that Jesus will be slaughtered to redeem the world. But they follow him despite the likelihood that they will have to suffer with him.
We can see the same self-sacrifice for Christ’s sake in Elizabeth Ann Seton. She was a widow with children. Yet she gave up social prominence to become a Catholic and eventually a religious sister. It is not that she desired to suffer the rigor of religious life but she accepted the discipline to follow Christ.
None of us seeks suffering for its own sake. We might choose to suffer a bit in order to make accomplish some goals as when we go hungry to lose a few pounds. We also choose to suffer for Christ. Out of love for him we get out of bed early in the morning to come to Mass. Out of love for him we cheerfully bear with the difficulties that the whole day brings us.
In Dostoevsky’s novel Crime and Punishment a killer falls in love with a prostitute. He eventually confesses his crime and is sent to prison in Siberia. She follows him not because she enjoys punishment but because she loves him. The same self-sacrificing love explains why John’s disciples decide to stay with Jesus. They must realize that when John calls Jesus “the lamb of God,” he means that Jesus will be slaughtered to redeem the world. But they follow him despite the likelihood that they will have to suffer with him.
We can see the same self-sacrifice for Christ’s sake in Elizabeth Ann Seton. She was a widow with children. Yet she gave up social prominence to become a Catholic and eventually a religious sister. It is not that she desired to suffer the rigor of religious life but she accepted the discipline to follow Christ.
None of us seeks suffering for its own sake. We might choose to suffer a bit in order to make accomplish some goals as when we go hungry to lose a few pounds. We also choose to suffer for Christ. Out of love for him we get out of bed early in the morning to come to Mass. Out of love for him we cheerfully bear with the difficulties that the whole day brings us.
Homilette for Wednesday, January 3
The Feast of the Most Holy Name of Jesus (Luke 2)
“What’s in a name?” an infatuated Juliet asks the handsome Romeo. At first, the two mistakenly believe very little substance resides in a name. But they come to learn there is really much at stake. For their love to mature they must accept who they are and make necessary sacrifices to overcome the difficulties their identities create.
We reserve much import for the name “Jesus.” I remember being admonished as a boy of six or seven for suggesting that our family name its new dog “Jesus.” In fact, however, it was a popular name for men in biblical times as it is today in Hispanic cultures today. “Jesus” means “Yahweh saves.” Certainly, it is an apt name for the Christ who as God’s agent saves us humans from our folly. He does this basically in two ways: by imparting wisdom through his teachings and by bestowing grace through his death and resurrection to practice what we have learned. Because of Jesus we live in freedom and look forward to heaven.
But providing the literal meaning of a name hardly tells enough about it. It certainly does not reveal why the name “Jesus” is “most holy” as we proclaim on this feast day. For this we must look deeper. Perhaps a telling use of the name late in Luke’s gospel will satisfy our need to know more about the name “Jesus.” Only one person in the four gospels dares to call Jesus by his name alone, without any titles or formalities. This person is not his mother or one of his disciples. It is the so-called good thief. On the cross he calls out to the Lord, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom” (Luke 23:42). The direct appeal, of course, brings the thief no reprimand. Quite the contrary, Jesus seems to award his boldness. “This day,” the Lord tells the criminal, “you will be with me in Paradise.”
The name “Jesus” is most holy because when we call it out in faith, God listens. We can be dying sinners, but as long as we repentantly ask Jesus’ mercy, we can depend upon it. To be sure, it is not a magic formula. But it is the last, best hope of a contrite heart.
“What’s in a name?” an infatuated Juliet asks the handsome Romeo. At first, the two mistakenly believe very little substance resides in a name. But they come to learn there is really much at stake. For their love to mature they must accept who they are and make necessary sacrifices to overcome the difficulties their identities create.
We reserve much import for the name “Jesus.” I remember being admonished as a boy of six or seven for suggesting that our family name its new dog “Jesus.” In fact, however, it was a popular name for men in biblical times as it is today in Hispanic cultures today. “Jesus” means “Yahweh saves.” Certainly, it is an apt name for the Christ who as God’s agent saves us humans from our folly. He does this basically in two ways: by imparting wisdom through his teachings and by bestowing grace through his death and resurrection to practice what we have learned. Because of Jesus we live in freedom and look forward to heaven.
But providing the literal meaning of a name hardly tells enough about it. It certainly does not reveal why the name “Jesus” is “most holy” as we proclaim on this feast day. For this we must look deeper. Perhaps a telling use of the name late in Luke’s gospel will satisfy our need to know more about the name “Jesus.” Only one person in the four gospels dares to call Jesus by his name alone, without any titles or formalities. This person is not his mother or one of his disciples. It is the so-called good thief. On the cross he calls out to the Lord, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom” (Luke 23:42). The direct appeal, of course, brings the thief no reprimand. Quite the contrary, Jesus seems to award his boldness. “This day,” the Lord tells the criminal, “you will be with me in Paradise.”
The name “Jesus” is most holy because when we call it out in faith, God listens. We can be dying sinners, but as long as we repentantly ask Jesus’ mercy, we can depend upon it. To be sure, it is not a magic formula. But it is the last, best hope of a contrite heart.
Reflection on Beginning the New Year
We mark time by years, and months, weeks, and days -- not so much by hours, minutes, and seconds -- but perhaps by light and darkness. A new year as a new day gives us the opportunity to make a fresh start. It inspires the sense of hope.
Each of us hopes for different things but certainly there are common denominators, at least for those who carry their crosses behind the Lord. We want to see our work prosper, for others as well as ourselves. We want to see our loved ones grow in wisdom, strength, and beauty as well as in faith and love. We long to see less contention, both in places where war rages and among people who share much background but lack common ideological perspective.
As we launch into the workdays of the New Year, let us resolve that we will make an added effort for peace among those we encounter. And let pray us pray that God may imbue His Spirit of love in the world.
Each of us hopes for different things but certainly there are common denominators, at least for those who carry their crosses behind the Lord. We want to see our work prosper, for others as well as ourselves. We want to see our loved ones grow in wisdom, strength, and beauty as well as in faith and love. We long to see less contention, both in places where war rages and among people who share much background but lack common ideological perspective.
As we launch into the workdays of the New Year, let us resolve that we will make an added effort for peace among those we encounter. And let pray us pray that God may imbue His Spirit of love in the world.
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