Thursday, V Lent
(John 8)
Albert Einstein once said, “Time exists so that everything does not happen at once.” That’s important. We become upset when two things happen at once – we’re preparing dinner and the doorbell rings. How could we ever cope with everything happening at once? But is it possible that someone exists outside of time? That One would have created time and everything else. Philosophers would call this Being who exists outside of time “God.” In the gospel today Jesus equates himself with that One, Being, or God. This is the meaning of his statement, "I Am."
Of course, this is all difficult to comprehend. The Jews may be resisting belief in Jesus but not without cause. How can a man whose date of birth is known and who will one day die be God? That’s another good question. We have an answer, however. The Son of God existed from all eternity but joined himself to a human body and soul. He did this to redirect humanity from sin which displeases God to virtue which God likes. God’s becoming human shows God’s great care for us humans.
Abraham is father of three great world religions – Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. All three see the Bible as God’s revelation although Jews do not accept the New Testament and Moslems look to the Koran as the ultimate word of God. Christianity seems the most daring of the three and the most hopeful. We say “daring” because of our belief that God has made Himself accessible in Jesus Christ. We say “hopeful” because Jesus has left the sacraments which assist us in two ways. First, they strengthen us for those times when everything seems to happen at once. Second, they prepare us for life with God outside of time.
Homily for Penance Service
(Readings: Deuteronomy 6:4-9, Mark 12:28-34)
“Cogito, virgo sum.” Do you recognize what I am saying? Maybe not exactly. “Cogito, virgo sum.” “I think. I am a virgin.” This pun, of course, takes off on the famous phrase, “Cogito, ergo sum.” “I think, therefore I am.” With that sentence Rene Descartes changed the course of Western philosophy. There is a sentence in the Scripture readings today that has had an even more far-reaching effect.
“Shema Yisrael Adonai Elohayu Adonai Echad.” “Hear, O Israel, the Lord is our God – the Lord alone.” These words are taken from the Old Testament. But they are meant equally for us as for the Jews. We Christians, as the Vatican Council points out, are the new Israel. The famous Shema goes on to state what Jesus says is the first commandment, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength.”
A decade ago a Jesuit theologian wrote a disturbing article entitled, “The Eclipse of Love for God.” The theologian tells us that what was one primary to our Christian faith, our love for God, is now often dismissed. Some, he says, replace the love for God with love for neighbor. Others, he continues, believe that the command to love God is only another way of stating the requirement to love oneself! Gratefully, the theologian advises us that the commandment to love God still stands and can be fulfilled.
As we ask God’s forgiveness for our sins this evening, we might ask ourselves how well we have fulfilled the first commandment to love Him above all. Have we loved him with all our heart, with all our soul, with all our mind, and with all our strength?
To love God “with all our heart” is to love God undividedly. Mother Teresa once said that her heart “belongs solely to Jesus.” We must try to imitate her. This does not mean that we love only God and feel indifferent to everyone else. If such an exclusive love were possible, it would not be love for God! As the First Letter of John says, “…whoever does not love a brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen” (I Jn 4:20). But loving God with all our heart means that we do not divide our love for God with love for things of the world. We do not lust after flesh; we do not hanker after fortune; we do not thirst after fame.
The soul is the seat of supernatural life. To love God with “all our soul” means to love Him for the eternal life which only He can give us. Some may wonder, is it really love if the motive of our affection is our own benefit? But certainly thinking in this way denies our human personality. It is all right to love another for what we gain from that relationship as long as we are not just using the other as a means to our own self-satisfaction. As a lovely poem repeated every night on an old radio program put it, “I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you.” We love God because He meets our needs today and promises us eternal life tomorrow.
When we love God with “all our mind,” we seek to know as much about Him as we can. We read the Bible and other religious literature. We seek answers to the great questions about God: Why does He tolerate evil? How does He consider people of other faith traditions? We have heard of the adage, “A mind is a terrible thing to waste.” Yet that is what some people seem to be doing by watching “thirty years of television coming back at us all at once through sixty cable channels.” Loving God may mean turning the TV off to read, to think, and to talk with others about Him.
The strength of our love for God is shown by our willingness to make sacrifices for Him. The Church commands us to give up meat on Fridays and Ash Wednesday during Lent. That’s a small sacrifice which should not consume much strength. A much greater sacrifice for married couples would be to abide by the Church’s teaching against contraception. For most couples, I suppose, that would take all one’s strength! All of us can show the strength of our love for God by conversing with God in prayer continually.
In the prefaces to his gospel and then to the Acts of the Apostles St. Luke mentions a certain “Theophilus.” He may have a particular person in mind, but just as likely he may be thinking of all of us. “Theophilus,” you see, means “lover of God.” And all of us love Him, at least a little. Let us now try to love Him with all our heart, with all our soul, with all our mind, and with all our strength.
“Cogito, virgo sum.” Do you recognize what I am saying? Maybe not exactly. “Cogito, virgo sum.” “I think. I am a virgin.” This pun, of course, takes off on the famous phrase, “Cogito, ergo sum.” “I think, therefore I am.” With that sentence Rene Descartes changed the course of Western philosophy. There is a sentence in the Scripture readings today that has had an even more far-reaching effect.
“Shema Yisrael Adonai Elohayu Adonai Echad.” “Hear, O Israel, the Lord is our God – the Lord alone.” These words are taken from the Old Testament. But they are meant equally for us as for the Jews. We Christians, as the Vatican Council points out, are the new Israel. The famous Shema goes on to state what Jesus says is the first commandment, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength.”
A decade ago a Jesuit theologian wrote a disturbing article entitled, “The Eclipse of Love for God.” The theologian tells us that what was one primary to our Christian faith, our love for God, is now often dismissed. Some, he says, replace the love for God with love for neighbor. Others, he continues, believe that the command to love God is only another way of stating the requirement to love oneself! Gratefully, the theologian advises us that the commandment to love God still stands and can be fulfilled.
As we ask God’s forgiveness for our sins this evening, we might ask ourselves how well we have fulfilled the first commandment to love Him above all. Have we loved him with all our heart, with all our soul, with all our mind, and with all our strength?
To love God “with all our heart” is to love God undividedly. Mother Teresa once said that her heart “belongs solely to Jesus.” We must try to imitate her. This does not mean that we love only God and feel indifferent to everyone else. If such an exclusive love were possible, it would not be love for God! As the First Letter of John says, “…whoever does not love a brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen” (I Jn 4:20). But loving God with all our heart means that we do not divide our love for God with love for things of the world. We do not lust after flesh; we do not hanker after fortune; we do not thirst after fame.
The soul is the seat of supernatural life. To love God with “all our soul” means to love Him for the eternal life which only He can give us. Some may wonder, is it really love if the motive of our affection is our own benefit? But certainly thinking in this way denies our human personality. It is all right to love another for what we gain from that relationship as long as we are not just using the other as a means to our own self-satisfaction. As a lovely poem repeated every night on an old radio program put it, “I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you.” We love God because He meets our needs today and promises us eternal life tomorrow.
When we love God with “all our mind,” we seek to know as much about Him as we can. We read the Bible and other religious literature. We seek answers to the great questions about God: Why does He tolerate evil? How does He consider people of other faith traditions? We have heard of the adage, “A mind is a terrible thing to waste.” Yet that is what some people seem to be doing by watching “thirty years of television coming back at us all at once through sixty cable channels.” Loving God may mean turning the TV off to read, to think, and to talk with others about Him.
The strength of our love for God is shown by our willingness to make sacrifices for Him. The Church commands us to give up meat on Fridays and Ash Wednesday during Lent. That’s a small sacrifice which should not consume much strength. A much greater sacrifice for married couples would be to abide by the Church’s teaching against contraception. For most couples, I suppose, that would take all one’s strength! All of us can show the strength of our love for God by conversing with God in prayer continually.
In the prefaces to his gospel and then to the Acts of the Apostles St. Luke mentions a certain “Theophilus.” He may have a particular person in mind, but just as likely he may be thinking of all of us. “Theophilus,” you see, means “lover of God.” And all of us love Him, at least a little. Let us now try to love Him with all our heart, with all our soul, with all our mind, and with all our strength.
Homilette for Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Lent V, Tuesday
(John 8)
In a favorite television quiz show fifty years ago called “What’s My Line?” celebrities would try to guess the occupation of a guest contestant. The celebrities would be told only contestant’s name and whether she or he was self-employed or hired. Then they would conduct an investigation by asking questions answered by “yes” or “no.” The game ended when the celebrities identified the work of the contestant or failed trying.
In some ways John’s gospel mimics “What’s My Line?” The Jews try to figure out the full identity of Jesus whom they know as a teacher from Nazareth. They ask questions as we hear today, “Who are you?” They also might guess who Jesus is by the signs that he does like changing the water into wine at Cana. But the Jews are not able to catch on because knowing Jesus’ line is not so much deduced logically from clues as it is comprehended in an act of faith in him. Jesus is the Son of God whose mission is to redeem the world from sin.
Perhaps we have wished that we could have been alive in Jesus’ days. We might have questions that we would like to put to him to clear up some of our doubts. Odds are, however, that all our questions would never be fully answered. Sooner or later, we would have to make the same act of faith in him that the Jews are challenged to make throughout the Gospel of John. Do we believe that this man of virtue, power, and self-sacrifice is the God of heaven and earth? Perhaps it’s more like a leap than a simple act of faith. In any case, the one on the other side ready to receive us when we move gives us eternal life.
(John 8)
In a favorite television quiz show fifty years ago called “What’s My Line?” celebrities would try to guess the occupation of a guest contestant. The celebrities would be told only contestant’s name and whether she or he was self-employed or hired. Then they would conduct an investigation by asking questions answered by “yes” or “no.” The game ended when the celebrities identified the work of the contestant or failed trying.
In some ways John’s gospel mimics “What’s My Line?” The Jews try to figure out the full identity of Jesus whom they know as a teacher from Nazareth. They ask questions as we hear today, “Who are you?” They also might guess who Jesus is by the signs that he does like changing the water into wine at Cana. But the Jews are not able to catch on because knowing Jesus’ line is not so much deduced logically from clues as it is comprehended in an act of faith in him. Jesus is the Son of God whose mission is to redeem the world from sin.
Perhaps we have wished that we could have been alive in Jesus’ days. We might have questions that we would like to put to him to clear up some of our doubts. Odds are, however, that all our questions would never be fully answered. Sooner or later, we would have to make the same act of faith in him that the Jews are challenged to make throughout the Gospel of John. Do we believe that this man of virtue, power, and self-sacrifice is the God of heaven and earth? Perhaps it’s more like a leap than a simple act of faith. In any case, the one on the other side ready to receive us when we move gives us eternal life.
Homilette for Monday, March 26, 2007
Solemnity of the Annunciation, March 26, 2007
(Luke 1)
A novel describes how a young monk received his vocation by literally a star falling from heaven. Observing the sky one evening, a boy sees a shooting star land near his home. He is what we might call “a good boy” but really not distinguished from others. When the lad investigates, he finds the fallen meteor. Thinking over the incident, he believes that God has sent him a personal message. Not too many years later, he joins the Cistercian monastery outside Alberta.
Luke’s gospel today tells a similar story. Mary has a religious experience. She is a devout girl although the extent of her sanctity is perhaps not evident. Much like a shooting star, an angel of God tells her of her special vocation. She is to be the mother of Jesus Christ. Mary also becomes her son’s leading disciple. No one listens to God’s word and puts it into practice as faithfully as she.
We have all probably had an experience we would call religious. Maybe it was a dream or a conversation with a special person. We probably don’t consider ourselves better than any other person. Yet God seems to have shown us His special favor. Like Mary and like that monk in Alberta, let us not hesitate to follow Him.
(Luke 1)
A novel describes how a young monk received his vocation by literally a star falling from heaven. Observing the sky one evening, a boy sees a shooting star land near his home. He is what we might call “a good boy” but really not distinguished from others. When the lad investigates, he finds the fallen meteor. Thinking over the incident, he believes that God has sent him a personal message. Not too many years later, he joins the Cistercian monastery outside Alberta.
Luke’s gospel today tells a similar story. Mary has a religious experience. She is a devout girl although the extent of her sanctity is perhaps not evident. Much like a shooting star, an angel of God tells her of her special vocation. She is to be the mother of Jesus Christ. Mary also becomes her son’s leading disciple. No one listens to God’s word and puts it into practice as faithfully as she.
We have all probably had an experience we would call religious. Maybe it was a dream or a conversation with a special person. We probably don’t consider ourselves better than any other person. Yet God seems to have shown us His special favor. Like Mary and like that monk in Alberta, let us not hesitate to follow Him.
Homily for Sunday, March 25, 2007
Sunday, V LENT, Cycle C
(John 8)
It was a regular Sunday morning. People filled the cathedral for mass. After reading the gospel the preacher began his homily. All of a sudden there was a furor in the front of the church. Someone started shouting as he neared the pulpit. Gun in hand, he demanded a hearing. The scene is not much different in the gospel today. The scribes and Pharisees interrupt Jesus’ teaching with what corresponds to a loaded pistol.
Into the midst of the assembly before Jesus the scribes and Pharisees parade a forlorn woman. She has been caught in the act of adultery. The passage does not describe how she looks, but it takes little imagination to see her as partially dressed. In any case, she is likely flush with shame. She has been exposed to a large crowd who look on her with contempt. Even if the people do not see naked flesh, they ridicule her for being caught in sin. We should be able to appreciate the hell the woman is experiencing. Most of us have probably had the nightmare of being exposed in a similar way.
Hopefully, if we were in the Temple area with Jesus that morning, we would have looked away. The scribes and Pharisees, however, take no note of the woman’s feelings. They don’t even care about her sin. They are using her to attack Jesus. They will mount a two step assault. First, they will cite the Scriptures: “...in the law, Moses commanded us to stone such women.” Then, expecting Jesus to have a contradictory judgment, they will seal his fate with the question: “What do you say?” It is the devil’s strategy of turning Scripture on its head. The Law proposes to form a righteous people. Here its supposed defenders show themselves as anything but righteous as they seek to undermine a just man.
Jesus, however, remains as composed as an iceberg in the Artic winter. In modesty, he bends to the ground and turns his head away. Then he demonstrates how divine mercy tempers justice. He challenges the whole crowd, “Let the one among you who is without sin cast the first stone.”
Significantly, Jesus does not make an excuse for adultery. He does not argue that the woman might need the money if she is a prostitute. Nor does he inquire about her partner in crime as if that would remove her guilt. No, he confronts everyone present – including us – with his or her own sinfulness. When we face our own guilt, we recognize a need for leniency. Pope John Paul II cast a cold eye on the death penalty for this reason. Seeing how abortion has eroded the sanctity of life, he pleaded for an end to capital punishment which calls into question the sanctity of the criminal’s life.
The pope’s declaration twelve years ago has been a moment of illumination for the world. It has enabled pro-choice advocates to see the cruelty of giving a woman the option of killing her own flesh and blood. And it has opened the eyes of pro-life proponents to admit that their field of concern needs stretching. We see this same enlightenment taking place as everyone leaves the Temple area -- scribe, Pharisee, and Jesus listener. Jesus has touched all with his plea for mercy. No one merits the right to cast a stone.
Alone with the woman Jesus can finally look at her. His eyes are void of judgment and filled with compassion. She has committed a grave sin which cannot be ignored. But she has already suffered the stiff punishment of shame in front of the crowd. To be forgiven she must also display what the Church calls firm purpose of amendment. “Go, and from now on do not sin any more,” he gently tells her. She will avoid the sin in the future. After Jesus narrowly saves her from a brutal death, how can she fall again? Unfortunately, we often forget that Christ has similarly rescued us. In confession we likely think of Jesus more as a traffic cop than a savior. He seems to stop us, ticket us, and tell us to speed no more. We depart ready to exceed the speed limit as soon as he is out of sight. But Christ has died a more gruesome death than stoning to save us from the punishment our sins deserve. How can we sin any more? No, we want to avoid sin. More than that, we want to become just and merciful like Jesus.
A striking incident occurs only in the Passion according to Luke which we will read at Mass next Sunday. Just after Jesus dies on the cross, “all the people...return(ed) home beating their breasts” (Lk 23:48). Scribes, Pharisees, and Jesus listeners show remorse for Jesus’ death. Just so, we face our guilt at Mass by striking our breasts at the Confiteor. We must cast a cold eye on our sins. They undermine our righteousness. They merit for us a brutal death. Now is the time to plead that mercy temper justice. Now is the time to plead for mercy.
(John 8)
It was a regular Sunday morning. People filled the cathedral for mass. After reading the gospel the preacher began his homily. All of a sudden there was a furor in the front of the church. Someone started shouting as he neared the pulpit. Gun in hand, he demanded a hearing. The scene is not much different in the gospel today. The scribes and Pharisees interrupt Jesus’ teaching with what corresponds to a loaded pistol.
Into the midst of the assembly before Jesus the scribes and Pharisees parade a forlorn woman. She has been caught in the act of adultery. The passage does not describe how she looks, but it takes little imagination to see her as partially dressed. In any case, she is likely flush with shame. She has been exposed to a large crowd who look on her with contempt. Even if the people do not see naked flesh, they ridicule her for being caught in sin. We should be able to appreciate the hell the woman is experiencing. Most of us have probably had the nightmare of being exposed in a similar way.
Hopefully, if we were in the Temple area with Jesus that morning, we would have looked away. The scribes and Pharisees, however, take no note of the woman’s feelings. They don’t even care about her sin. They are using her to attack Jesus. They will mount a two step assault. First, they will cite the Scriptures: “...in the law, Moses commanded us to stone such women.” Then, expecting Jesus to have a contradictory judgment, they will seal his fate with the question: “What do you say?” It is the devil’s strategy of turning Scripture on its head. The Law proposes to form a righteous people. Here its supposed defenders show themselves as anything but righteous as they seek to undermine a just man.
Jesus, however, remains as composed as an iceberg in the Artic winter. In modesty, he bends to the ground and turns his head away. Then he demonstrates how divine mercy tempers justice. He challenges the whole crowd, “Let the one among you who is without sin cast the first stone.”
Significantly, Jesus does not make an excuse for adultery. He does not argue that the woman might need the money if she is a prostitute. Nor does he inquire about her partner in crime as if that would remove her guilt. No, he confronts everyone present – including us – with his or her own sinfulness. When we face our own guilt, we recognize a need for leniency. Pope John Paul II cast a cold eye on the death penalty for this reason. Seeing how abortion has eroded the sanctity of life, he pleaded for an end to capital punishment which calls into question the sanctity of the criminal’s life.
The pope’s declaration twelve years ago has been a moment of illumination for the world. It has enabled pro-choice advocates to see the cruelty of giving a woman the option of killing her own flesh and blood. And it has opened the eyes of pro-life proponents to admit that their field of concern needs stretching. We see this same enlightenment taking place as everyone leaves the Temple area -- scribe, Pharisee, and Jesus listener. Jesus has touched all with his plea for mercy. No one merits the right to cast a stone.
Alone with the woman Jesus can finally look at her. His eyes are void of judgment and filled with compassion. She has committed a grave sin which cannot be ignored. But she has already suffered the stiff punishment of shame in front of the crowd. To be forgiven she must also display what the Church calls firm purpose of amendment. “Go, and from now on do not sin any more,” he gently tells her. She will avoid the sin in the future. After Jesus narrowly saves her from a brutal death, how can she fall again? Unfortunately, we often forget that Christ has similarly rescued us. In confession we likely think of Jesus more as a traffic cop than a savior. He seems to stop us, ticket us, and tell us to speed no more. We depart ready to exceed the speed limit as soon as he is out of sight. But Christ has died a more gruesome death than stoning to save us from the punishment our sins deserve. How can we sin any more? No, we want to avoid sin. More than that, we want to become just and merciful like Jesus.
A striking incident occurs only in the Passion according to Luke which we will read at Mass next Sunday. Just after Jesus dies on the cross, “all the people...return(ed) home beating their breasts” (Lk 23:48). Scribes, Pharisees, and Jesus listeners show remorse for Jesus’ death. Just so, we face our guilt at Mass by striking our breasts at the Confiteor. We must cast a cold eye on our sins. They undermine our righteousness. They merit for us a brutal death. Now is the time to plead that mercy temper justice. Now is the time to plead for mercy.
Homilette for Thursday, March 22, 2007
Thursday, IV Lent
(John 5)
As Holy Week approaches, we Christians should review our attitudes toward Jews. All the gospels relate that Jewish people had a role in Jesus’ passion and death. The Romans actually executed Jesus, but each gospel points out that they did so at the instigation of the Jewish people. The gospels of Matthew and John are especially harsh in their consideration of Jewish responsibility. Matthew locates blame for the crucifixion not only on the Jews in Jerusalem on the first Good Friday but also on Jews of all time. The crowds respond to Pilate, “(Jesus’) blood be upon us and upon our children.” Throughout the Gospel according to John, as we see in the passage today, Jesus is in a bitter debate with not only the scribes and Pharisees and other Jewish leaders but more generically with “the Jews.”
However, we must be very careful about assigning guilt. It is universally recognized that the Gospels do not only tell the story of Jesus’ life and death but that they also reflect the conditions of apostolic times. During the latter half of the first century when the Gospels were being composed there was bitter opposition between Christians and Jews. For a while Christianity was considered a sect of Judaism. Christians worshipped with Jews in the Temple in Jerusalem until it was destroyed in 70 A.D. as well as in synagogues wherever there were Jews. With the destruction of the Temple Jewish leaders tried to put their house in order. They saw the need to expel from the synagogues the Christians who were worshipping Jesus as Messiah. As Jesus makes clear in the gospel today, Jews and Christians read the Scriptures differently.
Because they were almost literally thrown out on their ears, Christians responded with a rather harsh description of Jewish involvement for Jesus’ death in the gospels. The Vatican Council has helped us clarify what actually happened the fateful day on which Jesus was crucified. The members of the governing council were responsible for giving Jesus over to the Romans for execution. Some of these men no doubt sincerely believed that Jesus had violated the Mosaic blasphemy laws and deserved death. Others probably acted out of jealousy and hatred. In any case it is wrong for Christians to blame all Jews at the time for Jesus’ death and an outrage to call Jews today “Christ killers.” Jesus was a Jew, and many Jews became Christians. There are many reasons for us to love Jews, not the least of which is Jesus’ command to love our neighbor as our self.
(John 5)
As Holy Week approaches, we Christians should review our attitudes toward Jews. All the gospels relate that Jewish people had a role in Jesus’ passion and death. The Romans actually executed Jesus, but each gospel points out that they did so at the instigation of the Jewish people. The gospels of Matthew and John are especially harsh in their consideration of Jewish responsibility. Matthew locates blame for the crucifixion not only on the Jews in Jerusalem on the first Good Friday but also on Jews of all time. The crowds respond to Pilate, “(Jesus’) blood be upon us and upon our children.” Throughout the Gospel according to John, as we see in the passage today, Jesus is in a bitter debate with not only the scribes and Pharisees and other Jewish leaders but more generically with “the Jews.”
However, we must be very careful about assigning guilt. It is universally recognized that the Gospels do not only tell the story of Jesus’ life and death but that they also reflect the conditions of apostolic times. During the latter half of the first century when the Gospels were being composed there was bitter opposition between Christians and Jews. For a while Christianity was considered a sect of Judaism. Christians worshipped with Jews in the Temple in Jerusalem until it was destroyed in 70 A.D. as well as in synagogues wherever there were Jews. With the destruction of the Temple Jewish leaders tried to put their house in order. They saw the need to expel from the synagogues the Christians who were worshipping Jesus as Messiah. As Jesus makes clear in the gospel today, Jews and Christians read the Scriptures differently.
Because they were almost literally thrown out on their ears, Christians responded with a rather harsh description of Jewish involvement for Jesus’ death in the gospels. The Vatican Council has helped us clarify what actually happened the fateful day on which Jesus was crucified. The members of the governing council were responsible for giving Jesus over to the Romans for execution. Some of these men no doubt sincerely believed that Jesus had violated the Mosaic blasphemy laws and deserved death. Others probably acted out of jealousy and hatred. In any case it is wrong for Christians to blame all Jews at the time for Jesus’ death and an outrage to call Jews today “Christ killers.” Jesus was a Jew, and many Jews became Christians. There are many reasons for us to love Jews, not the least of which is Jesus’ command to love our neighbor as our self.
Homilette for Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Wednesday, IV Lent
(Isaiah 49)
Lent is generally associated with the Hebrews’ Exodus from Egypt. Our forty days of struggle against sinful tendencies correspond to the forty years of purification that the Hebrews underwent in the desert. There are other Bible stories, however, which also give meaning to our Lenten experience. The first reading today presents one of these.
In the sixth century before Christ the Babylonians conquered the Kingdom of Judah and carried many of its people into exile. It was a terrible experience of subjugation, humiliation, and mortification. The prophets wrote of it as a punishment for the excesses of the people during the period of kings. Many rich people squandered fortunes in idolatrous living and ignored the plight of the poor. But Isaiah pronounces enough is enough. The people have learned their lesson. God is at hand to bring them back to their own land.
We would do well to hear the voice of Isaiah as a wake up call. God has noticed our sacrifices and is coming to rescue us from our sins. We have to hold the line for two and a half more weeks. But just as sure as the daylight now exceeds nighttime so can we count on God liberating us through Christ’s Easter victory. He shall crown our efforts of charity, prayer, and fasting to make us God-like in generosity, wisdom, and self-control.
(Isaiah 49)
Lent is generally associated with the Hebrews’ Exodus from Egypt. Our forty days of struggle against sinful tendencies correspond to the forty years of purification that the Hebrews underwent in the desert. There are other Bible stories, however, which also give meaning to our Lenten experience. The first reading today presents one of these.
In the sixth century before Christ the Babylonians conquered the Kingdom of Judah and carried many of its people into exile. It was a terrible experience of subjugation, humiliation, and mortification. The prophets wrote of it as a punishment for the excesses of the people during the period of kings. Many rich people squandered fortunes in idolatrous living and ignored the plight of the poor. But Isaiah pronounces enough is enough. The people have learned their lesson. God is at hand to bring them back to their own land.
We would do well to hear the voice of Isaiah as a wake up call. God has noticed our sacrifices and is coming to rescue us from our sins. We have to hold the line for two and a half more weeks. But just as sure as the daylight now exceeds nighttime so can we count on God liberating us through Christ’s Easter victory. He shall crown our efforts of charity, prayer, and fasting to make us God-like in generosity, wisdom, and self-control.
Homilette for March 20, 2007
Tuesday, IV Lent
Ezekiel 47 and John 5)
Both the readings today illustrate the restorative power of water. In Ezekiel the water flows from the Temple to saturate the ground so that it may produce abundant life. The water is seen as a kind of grace that provides healing and nutritive benefits for the people. In John the crippled man cannot avail himself of the Temple waters so Jesus intervenes to heal the man directly. He becomes a more dependable source of grace than the Temple whose waters stir only intermittently and whose effectiveness is limited.
Jesus can come to us in ten thousand ways. But the channels that he has established are the seven sacraments. In Baptism, Confirmation, Eucharist, Reconciliation, Healing, Marriage and Orders he both heals us and empowers us.
“Crops grow where water flows.” That’s the message on a road sign that the agricultural lobby puts on highways. The lobby wants to remind citizens that water cannot be taken for granted. It may fall from the sky but it has to be preserved and channeled by often costly government actions. So we should not take for granted the sacraments. To keep the waters of grace flowing we need to come to Penance services and, of course, Mass. It may take some effort but the benefits enhance our life.
Ezekiel 47 and John 5)
Both the readings today illustrate the restorative power of water. In Ezekiel the water flows from the Temple to saturate the ground so that it may produce abundant life. The water is seen as a kind of grace that provides healing and nutritive benefits for the people. In John the crippled man cannot avail himself of the Temple waters so Jesus intervenes to heal the man directly. He becomes a more dependable source of grace than the Temple whose waters stir only intermittently and whose effectiveness is limited.
Jesus can come to us in ten thousand ways. But the channels that he has established are the seven sacraments. In Baptism, Confirmation, Eucharist, Reconciliation, Healing, Marriage and Orders he both heals us and empowers us.
“Crops grow where water flows.” That’s the message on a road sign that the agricultural lobby puts on highways. The lobby wants to remind citizens that water cannot be taken for granted. It may fall from the sky but it has to be preserved and channeled by often costly government actions. So we should not take for granted the sacraments. To keep the waters of grace flowing we need to come to Penance services and, of course, Mass. It may take some effort but the benefits enhance our life.
Homilette for March 19, 2007
Monday, The Feast of St. Joseph
(Matthew 1)
There is a fascinating painting of the Holy Family in Egypt. It shows Mary holding Jesus in her arms. The mother and child are sitting between the lion-like paws of a giant sphinx. Meanwhile, Joseph lies a fair distance away protecting access to the sacred pair. The painting indicates Joseph’s relationship of responsibility and reverence for his virgin wife and her son.
St. Matthew calls Joseph “a righteous man” in the gospel today. This means that he conforms himself to the will of God. He does not insist on his will over God’s will but tries to carry out the Lord’s directives. As a man, no doubt he desires to have relations with his young wife, but this would be contrary to God’s plan. Mary is going to give birth to the Son of God, and Joseph must not violate this sacred event.
We also strive to do the will of God. If we are not married or if our spouses are disabled, God’s will is that we like Joseph do not have sexual relations. We carry out God’s will everyday when we tell the truth, avoid gossip, and do not take the Lord’s name in vain. In these ways we too can be called like Joseph “righteous” men and women.
(Matthew 1)
There is a fascinating painting of the Holy Family in Egypt. It shows Mary holding Jesus in her arms. The mother and child are sitting between the lion-like paws of a giant sphinx. Meanwhile, Joseph lies a fair distance away protecting access to the sacred pair. The painting indicates Joseph’s relationship of responsibility and reverence for his virgin wife and her son.
St. Matthew calls Joseph “a righteous man” in the gospel today. This means that he conforms himself to the will of God. He does not insist on his will over God’s will but tries to carry out the Lord’s directives. As a man, no doubt he desires to have relations with his young wife, but this would be contrary to God’s plan. Mary is going to give birth to the Son of God, and Joseph must not violate this sacred event.
We also strive to do the will of God. If we are not married or if our spouses are disabled, God’s will is that we like Joseph do not have sexual relations. We carry out God’s will everyday when we tell the truth, avoid gossip, and do not take the Lord’s name in vain. In these ways we too can be called like Joseph “righteous” men and women.
Homily for Sunday, March 18, 2007
Sunday, LENT Week IV
(Lk 15)
Books on tape aren’t read. They are performed. This is no exaggeration. Anyone who has ever heard a recording of, for example, Lonesome Dove, would agree. The performer of that recording gives distinctive voices to such diverse characters as Augustus McCrae, Joshua Deets, and Lorena Wood. In the parable today Jesus invites us to, in a sense, impersonate the three family members. Each of us should identify himself or herself with the younger son, the elder son, and the father.
Some of us will easily see ourselves as the younger son. We may have been “daddy’s favorite” or dared to have borne a tattoo. But in a deeper sense all of us resemble the younger son when we leave home to stake our claim in the world. In that process we usually forget about God’s inexhaustible love. As a result we allow the standards of the world to replace the good God desires for each of us. We set our hearts on “A’s” rather than wisdom regarding the nature of things. We hanker for five-star service rather than to serve the common welfare. We long for the pleasure of sexual gratification rather than the total self-surrender of marital love. The list can be extended, but in every case there is an infinite distance between the world’s promptings and God’s plans. We yearn for what is passing, what cannot really satisfy. We pass by what makes us like our heavenly Father.
In Jesus’ parable the wayward son is broadsided as he pursues his worldly adventure. He suffers for his lack of discretion, remembers his father’s goodness, and returns home to beg for mercy. All of us need to head in the same direction. It is in rediscovering the love of God, our Father, which gives us hope. That love is like a family diamond – ageless, priceless, erosion-less. It provides a stable basis to this life and an everlasting home in what lies beyond.
We who come to church on Sunday should find little difficulty in identifying with the elder son. After all, Jesus includes this character in his story as a lesson to the Pharisees, the ultimate church-goers. Abiding by the rules, we believe that we deserve more of life’s rewards than those who flout them. So driving in the appointed lane we resent someone using the shoulder then sneaking in front of us. Also, we envy those who seem to garner maximum attention with minimum effort. So we grumble when the boss or the pastor blue-ribbons a colleague whose contribution to the job seems little more than we made.
The elder son’s short-sighted anger keeps his father’s love out of view. Stewing over his brother’s return, he cannot notice how his father’s humbles himself to call him to the party. Nor can he appreciate how his father’s remaining legacy solely belongs to him. It is indeed difficult for anyone to live with resentment and envy. But we are not helpless in the situation. We can choose to practice gratitude for all that we have. Especially we in this church today have so much to be thankful for. We generally have families who care about us. We live in a free society with multiple opportunities to learn and earn. And we have a faith that gives us access to the source and end of life. Rather than obsessing over how unfair the world appears, we might thank God daily for these blessings.
We call the story “The Parable of the Prodigal Son” but it is the father who takes over center stage. A thinly veiled symbol for God, he goes out of his way to welcome both sons back. How might we imitate Him, even if we are not a parent? The father in the parable accepts his younger son’s return without giving him an economics lecture. We should likewise accept those we have been given to care for, i.e. our family, friends and associates. We may not condone all their actions, but we can express our love for them. A woman recently came to a priest crying that her daughter is a homosexual. Hopefully, she took to heart the priest’s consolation that a homosexual orientation is not immoral. Furthermore, the daughter needs her mother’s love. Beyond acceptance we need to spend time with those in our care. The old man’s interrupting his celebration to assist his elder son get over his anger is especially telling. He does not demand his son to join the party. But he does take time to explain why the celebration is in order. Time for friends and even time for children is becoming increasingly scarce in our society. Studies indicate that we do not visit friends and relatives nearly as often as a generation ago. Neither are parents spending so much time with their children. These trends are at best worrisome. We are missing the critical lesson in The Little Prince, “It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important.”
The last scene of the movie Master and Commander shows a tall ship doing an about face in the middle of the ocean. That describes the younger son in Jesus’ parable coming to his senses and returning to his father. It also resembles each of us during Lent. Now is the time to realize that we have gone too far in staking our claim in the world. We hanker after diamonds and grumble over one-star service. Now is the time to rediscover God’s love for each of us and to beg for His mercy. Now is the time for mercy.
(Lk 15)
Books on tape aren’t read. They are performed. This is no exaggeration. Anyone who has ever heard a recording of, for example, Lonesome Dove, would agree. The performer of that recording gives distinctive voices to such diverse characters as Augustus McCrae, Joshua Deets, and Lorena Wood. In the parable today Jesus invites us to, in a sense, impersonate the three family members. Each of us should identify himself or herself with the younger son, the elder son, and the father.
Some of us will easily see ourselves as the younger son. We may have been “daddy’s favorite” or dared to have borne a tattoo. But in a deeper sense all of us resemble the younger son when we leave home to stake our claim in the world. In that process we usually forget about God’s inexhaustible love. As a result we allow the standards of the world to replace the good God desires for each of us. We set our hearts on “A’s” rather than wisdom regarding the nature of things. We hanker for five-star service rather than to serve the common welfare. We long for the pleasure of sexual gratification rather than the total self-surrender of marital love. The list can be extended, but in every case there is an infinite distance between the world’s promptings and God’s plans. We yearn for what is passing, what cannot really satisfy. We pass by what makes us like our heavenly Father.
In Jesus’ parable the wayward son is broadsided as he pursues his worldly adventure. He suffers for his lack of discretion, remembers his father’s goodness, and returns home to beg for mercy. All of us need to head in the same direction. It is in rediscovering the love of God, our Father, which gives us hope. That love is like a family diamond – ageless, priceless, erosion-less. It provides a stable basis to this life and an everlasting home in what lies beyond.
We who come to church on Sunday should find little difficulty in identifying with the elder son. After all, Jesus includes this character in his story as a lesson to the Pharisees, the ultimate church-goers. Abiding by the rules, we believe that we deserve more of life’s rewards than those who flout them. So driving in the appointed lane we resent someone using the shoulder then sneaking in front of us. Also, we envy those who seem to garner maximum attention with minimum effort. So we grumble when the boss or the pastor blue-ribbons a colleague whose contribution to the job seems little more than we made.
The elder son’s short-sighted anger keeps his father’s love out of view. Stewing over his brother’s return, he cannot notice how his father’s humbles himself to call him to the party. Nor can he appreciate how his father’s remaining legacy solely belongs to him. It is indeed difficult for anyone to live with resentment and envy. But we are not helpless in the situation. We can choose to practice gratitude for all that we have. Especially we in this church today have so much to be thankful for. We generally have families who care about us. We live in a free society with multiple opportunities to learn and earn. And we have a faith that gives us access to the source and end of life. Rather than obsessing over how unfair the world appears, we might thank God daily for these blessings.
We call the story “The Parable of the Prodigal Son” but it is the father who takes over center stage. A thinly veiled symbol for God, he goes out of his way to welcome both sons back. How might we imitate Him, even if we are not a parent? The father in the parable accepts his younger son’s return without giving him an economics lecture. We should likewise accept those we have been given to care for, i.e. our family, friends and associates. We may not condone all their actions, but we can express our love for them. A woman recently came to a priest crying that her daughter is a homosexual. Hopefully, she took to heart the priest’s consolation that a homosexual orientation is not immoral. Furthermore, the daughter needs her mother’s love. Beyond acceptance we need to spend time with those in our care. The old man’s interrupting his celebration to assist his elder son get over his anger is especially telling. He does not demand his son to join the party. But he does take time to explain why the celebration is in order. Time for friends and even time for children is becoming increasingly scarce in our society. Studies indicate that we do not visit friends and relatives nearly as often as a generation ago. Neither are parents spending so much time with their children. These trends are at best worrisome. We are missing the critical lesson in The Little Prince, “It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important.”
The last scene of the movie Master and Commander shows a tall ship doing an about face in the middle of the ocean. That describes the younger son in Jesus’ parable coming to his senses and returning to his father. It also resembles each of us during Lent. Now is the time to realize that we have gone too far in staking our claim in the world. We hanker after diamonds and grumble over one-star service. Now is the time to rediscover God’s love for each of us and to beg for His mercy. Now is the time for mercy.
Homilette for Thursday, March 15, 2007
Thursday, III Lent
(Lk 11)
When I was a seminarian in Washington, D.C., Pope John Paul II was elected pope. A year later he came to the United States. He was going to celebrate Mass on the Capitol mall, but I was not sure I wanted to attend. After all, it was unlikely that I could get close to him, much less shake his hand. Then, there were hundreds of thousands of other people there who would slow up transportation when I had plenty of work to do. Besides, at the time I was having difficulty with the new Pope’s refusal to grant dispensations to priests who asked to leave the active priesthood. I pretty much decided against attending when I heard a priest preach that it was not an opportunity to pass up. He said that the visit was unique – the first time a pope visited the U.S. Capitol. Whether or not we agreed with the directions in which John Paul was taking the Church, he said, we should make the effort to see him. Fortunately, I did. John Paul became one of my heroes and universally acclaimed as one of the greatest men of our times.
In the gospel Jesus tells us that the Kingdom of God is at hand with his coming. Still many people resist trusting his word. Like my making excuses not to see the Pope, they give half-hearted reasons for maintaining their doubts. He’s in league with the devil, they say, or, let’s see him prove himself by turning stones into bread.
Perhaps most of us as well harbor reservations about giving ourselves to God. What are these reservations? One is that if the Savior really has come, the world would be different. Perhaps it is the presence of so much poverty, violence, and disease. But just as likely we’re upset with the price of gasoline and the cost of cable television. We shouldn’t be grumbling over things, however. No, we should thank God that we have surplus money to pay for it. Of, if we don’t have the money, maybe we can thank God that we can live without these things. We should be able to see ourselves as deeply loved by God. He has given us life and called us around the table of His son. He will provide for us in death also when the taste of Christ’s body and blood that we have now will be transformed into a full banquet of unending joy.
(Lk 11)
When I was a seminarian in Washington, D.C., Pope John Paul II was elected pope. A year later he came to the United States. He was going to celebrate Mass on the Capitol mall, but I was not sure I wanted to attend. After all, it was unlikely that I could get close to him, much less shake his hand. Then, there were hundreds of thousands of other people there who would slow up transportation when I had plenty of work to do. Besides, at the time I was having difficulty with the new Pope’s refusal to grant dispensations to priests who asked to leave the active priesthood. I pretty much decided against attending when I heard a priest preach that it was not an opportunity to pass up. He said that the visit was unique – the first time a pope visited the U.S. Capitol. Whether or not we agreed with the directions in which John Paul was taking the Church, he said, we should make the effort to see him. Fortunately, I did. John Paul became one of my heroes and universally acclaimed as one of the greatest men of our times.
In the gospel Jesus tells us that the Kingdom of God is at hand with his coming. Still many people resist trusting his word. Like my making excuses not to see the Pope, they give half-hearted reasons for maintaining their doubts. He’s in league with the devil, they say, or, let’s see him prove himself by turning stones into bread.
Perhaps most of us as well harbor reservations about giving ourselves to God. What are these reservations? One is that if the Savior really has come, the world would be different. Perhaps it is the presence of so much poverty, violence, and disease. But just as likely we’re upset with the price of gasoline and the cost of cable television. We shouldn’t be grumbling over things, however. No, we should thank God that we have surplus money to pay for it. Of, if we don’t have the money, maybe we can thank God that we can live without these things. We should be able to see ourselves as deeply loved by God. He has given us life and called us around the table of His son. He will provide for us in death also when the taste of Christ’s body and blood that we have now will be transformed into a full banquet of unending joy.
Homilette for Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Wednesday, III Lent
(Mt 5)
When was the last time you ate a ham sandwich or enjoyed bacon and eggs? Did you feel guilty at the time? Of course, you were breaking a tenet of the Mosaic Law? Jesus seems to be saying in the gospel passage today that the Mosaic Law still is in effect. Should we start revising our menus?
Of course, that is not necessary. But we must reflect on what Jesus means when he tells us, “Amen, I say to you, until heaven and earth pass away, not the smallest letter, not the smallest part of a letter of the law will pass away, until all things have taken place.” Perhaps he is using exaggerated language that he does not mean literally as when he says, “If your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out”? Or perhaps he intends these words only for the Twelve, all Jews, who were quite used to keeping the Law?
There is another, more logical explanation why the Church does not keep the Mosaic Law. As Jesus says will happen, “heaven and earth (have) pass(ed) away” with his death and resurrection. All things have now been made new. We have been given the Holy Spirit to live a new righteousness that should surpass that of the scribes and Pharisees. Is this the case? It is when we find ourselves not acting just to conform ourselves with a law, i.e., not just out of fear of being punished. It is when we do what is right out of love for God who has given us everything.
(Mt 5)
When was the last time you ate a ham sandwich or enjoyed bacon and eggs? Did you feel guilty at the time? Of course, you were breaking a tenet of the Mosaic Law? Jesus seems to be saying in the gospel passage today that the Mosaic Law still is in effect. Should we start revising our menus?
Of course, that is not necessary. But we must reflect on what Jesus means when he tells us, “Amen, I say to you, until heaven and earth pass away, not the smallest letter, not the smallest part of a letter of the law will pass away, until all things have taken place.” Perhaps he is using exaggerated language that he does not mean literally as when he says, “If your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out”? Or perhaps he intends these words only for the Twelve, all Jews, who were quite used to keeping the Law?
There is another, more logical explanation why the Church does not keep the Mosaic Law. As Jesus says will happen, “heaven and earth (have) pass(ed) away” with his death and resurrection. All things have now been made new. We have been given the Holy Spirit to live a new righteousness that should surpass that of the scribes and Pharisees. Is this the case? It is when we find ourselves not acting just to conform ourselves with a law, i.e., not just out of fear of being punished. It is when we do what is right out of love for God who has given us everything.
Homilette for Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Tuesday, III Lent
(Mt 18)
President Gerald Ford died in January. Commentators in the newspapers and on television remembered him with admiration. They said that his singular greatest achievement was to pardon ex-President Nixon for criminal activity in the Watergate cover-up. Even Ted Kennedy admitted that although he disagreed with the decision at the time, he has come to regard it as a distinctive service to the country. The pardon helped heal a nation badly divided over ideology and shocked over wrongdoing at the highest levels.
Would that politicians be more willing to practice what they admire in others! Instead we usually hear from them calls for resignation, impeachment and apology. In the gospel today Jesus tells his disciples that it should not be that way with us. We must be ready to forgive when people repent of their misdeeds. Rather than clamor for retribution, we must pray that our offenders take note of their wrongdoing and make proper amends.
Mercy becomes us. It makes us like God whom has been revealed as replete with merciful love. It even makes us better appreciated in our society as in the case of President Ford. In forgiving, of course, we must not abandon the norms of justice. Compensation to the wronged is usually due, and the offender must be resolved not to offend again. But practiced rightly, mercy makes everyone better.
(Mt 18)
President Gerald Ford died in January. Commentators in the newspapers and on television remembered him with admiration. They said that his singular greatest achievement was to pardon ex-President Nixon for criminal activity in the Watergate cover-up. Even Ted Kennedy admitted that although he disagreed with the decision at the time, he has come to regard it as a distinctive service to the country. The pardon helped heal a nation badly divided over ideology and shocked over wrongdoing at the highest levels.
Would that politicians be more willing to practice what they admire in others! Instead we usually hear from them calls for resignation, impeachment and apology. In the gospel today Jesus tells his disciples that it should not be that way with us. We must be ready to forgive when people repent of their misdeeds. Rather than clamor for retribution, we must pray that our offenders take note of their wrongdoing and make proper amends.
Mercy becomes us. It makes us like God whom has been revealed as replete with merciful love. It even makes us better appreciated in our society as in the case of President Ford. In forgiving, of course, we must not abandon the norms of justice. Compensation to the wronged is usually due, and the offender must be resolved not to offend again. But practiced rightly, mercy makes everyone better.
Homilette for Monday, March 12, 2007
Monday Week 3
(2 Kings)
In one of his poems Robert Frost writes about a farmer who knows how to throw hay. The farmer points out how some men try to pick up hay that they are standing on. In this way they themselves get in the way of what they want to accomplish.
Two characters in the first reading have that same problem. Both the king of Israel and Naaman, the Syrian general, make themselves their own enemies. They worry about not being able to do something when all that is necessary is that they trust someone else. No, king of Israel, you are not a god with power over life and death. Your God, however, has exactly that power. Ask him to heal the leper. No, Naaman, you cannot be cleansed in the waters of your own land. Do what the prophet of God tells you and you will be healed of your leprosy.
Rather than put our trust in God we sometimes worry and fret over our problems. We also are not gods. Our resources also cannot resolve every problem we face. We too must trust the God of Israel, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. He can and will save us. Let’s ask him for help.
(2 Kings)
In one of his poems Robert Frost writes about a farmer who knows how to throw hay. The farmer points out how some men try to pick up hay that they are standing on. In this way they themselves get in the way of what they want to accomplish.
Two characters in the first reading have that same problem. Both the king of Israel and Naaman, the Syrian general, make themselves their own enemies. They worry about not being able to do something when all that is necessary is that they trust someone else. No, king of Israel, you are not a god with power over life and death. Your God, however, has exactly that power. Ask him to heal the leper. No, Naaman, you cannot be cleansed in the waters of your own land. Do what the prophet of God tells you and you will be healed of your leprosy.
Rather than put our trust in God we sometimes worry and fret over our problems. We also are not gods. Our resources also cannot resolve every problem we face. We too must trust the God of Israel, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. He can and will save us. Let’s ask him for help.
Homily for Sunday, March 11, 2007
Sunday, II Lent
(Exodus 2)
Remember the movie “Titanic”? How can we forget it? It probably was the last blockbuster to dominate the Academy Awards. Once two young girls were watching it on a bleached out television screen in a store window. They just couldn’t take there eyes off it although they had probably seen the movie many times before. The burning bush in the first reading today rivets the same attention.
An angel of God appears in a burning bush. The angel, however, is not a separate being from God. Rather it is a manifestation of God. In the fire of the bush which is not consumed the angel reveals God as love. Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, the French priest and scientist, once wrote that when humans discover how to control the forces of love, for the second time they will have discovered fire. Here the love stands ready to unite itself to the Hebrew people in their struggle for liberation. In pictures of the Sacred Heart we find a similar non-consuming fire. Christ shows himself desiring to be one with us in our struggle against evil.
To accomplish victory we certainly need Christ at our head. The challenge, of course, is colossal. Not only are the forces of the enemy formidable – ignorance, disease, violence, and poverty – but he has also infiltrated our ranks. Pride, envy, and lust cripple our efforts. In large cities across the country there are schools that have defied “No Child Left Behind” and every other education program. The reason is not the lack of constructive ideas but the fact that home life of students is a mess. Only Christ, the Son of God who shares our human nature, can heal our infirmity to prepare us for battle. In the passage, Moses seems to have been likewise selected for his special qualities. Since he is Hebrew by birth, he knows and loves the people. Being reared by Pharaoh’s daughter, he has access to the chambers of Egyptian power. When God calls Moses by name, we get the sense that he has been hand-picked for the role of liberator.
Moses must remove his sandals in the presence of God. The instruction appears odd since Moses is walking on open ground. But the action is symbolic. The sandals carry soil from other places, and Moses should be free of all contaminants in God’s presence. The removal of sandals indicates Moses is dropping all pretensions before God. He will submit to the divine will. Of course, in Catholic churches we don’t take off our shoes before entering, but we do bless ourselves with holy water. The blessing has the same symbolic significance. We want to cleanse ourselves of all sinful tendencies as we listen to God’s instructions.
Then God reveals his plan to Moses. He has heard the Hebrews plea. He will rescue them from suffering in Egypt and deliver them to a land of plenty. As spectacular as that accomplishment will be, it will not equal Christ’s Easter victory over sin. His death will achieve for us forgiveness of sins. We can leave behind the guilt of our past to start over again. His resurrection will send us the Holy Spirit to advance in the struggle against evil. Yes, individual Christians sometimes backslide. Yet the record of Catholic schools in education and of Catholic organizations in charity is impressive. Catholic Relief Services, for example, is ranked among the largest and most efficient relief and development organizations in the world.
Yet some of us are reluctant to trust ourselves to Christ as presented in the Church. We wonder if the achievements of the Church in education, medicine, and social development are incidental to its claim as being the body of Christ. “Why does the Church exclude women from the priesthood or prohibit divorced Catholics to receive Communion?” we ask. We dither like Moses when he asks God to reveal His name. Moses is not quite sure that God is a friend. After all, the gods of other peoples are quite capricious, treating human beings with no more care than boys swatting flies. How could Moses be sure that God is not just leading him down a dark alley? He has the answer to that question: he will ask God for identification.
Astoundingly, God provides it! He tells Moses that he is, “I AM” – that is always there for His people. He is always ready to help them and even to forgive their faults if they but repent of their sins. Providing the people with His name is no small concession. It is having the cell number of the President! We might find in the name “I AM” the motive of the Church’s resistance to faddish change. As God is eternally there for His people, the Church tries to remain faithful to Christ’s teachings. His commands to treat the least of people as we would treat him as well as the proscription of divorce stand forever.
A particularly disgusting advertisement shows bacteria germs infiltrating toenails leaving them green and calcified. That’s a very graphic way to picture the evil which we face in the world. It confronts us outwardly with ignorance, disease, violence and poverty. It also leads us down the blind alley of pride, envy, and lust. To advance in the struggle against it we need Christ’s help. He is human by birth so he knows and loves us. He is also the Son of God with access to the chambers of power. We can count on him in our struggle against evil. We can always count on him.
(Exodus 2)
Remember the movie “Titanic”? How can we forget it? It probably was the last blockbuster to dominate the Academy Awards. Once two young girls were watching it on a bleached out television screen in a store window. They just couldn’t take there eyes off it although they had probably seen the movie many times before. The burning bush in the first reading today rivets the same attention.
An angel of God appears in a burning bush. The angel, however, is not a separate being from God. Rather it is a manifestation of God. In the fire of the bush which is not consumed the angel reveals God as love. Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, the French priest and scientist, once wrote that when humans discover how to control the forces of love, for the second time they will have discovered fire. Here the love stands ready to unite itself to the Hebrew people in their struggle for liberation. In pictures of the Sacred Heart we find a similar non-consuming fire. Christ shows himself desiring to be one with us in our struggle against evil.
To accomplish victory we certainly need Christ at our head. The challenge, of course, is colossal. Not only are the forces of the enemy formidable – ignorance, disease, violence, and poverty – but he has also infiltrated our ranks. Pride, envy, and lust cripple our efforts. In large cities across the country there are schools that have defied “No Child Left Behind” and every other education program. The reason is not the lack of constructive ideas but the fact that home life of students is a mess. Only Christ, the Son of God who shares our human nature, can heal our infirmity to prepare us for battle. In the passage, Moses seems to have been likewise selected for his special qualities. Since he is Hebrew by birth, he knows and loves the people. Being reared by Pharaoh’s daughter, he has access to the chambers of Egyptian power. When God calls Moses by name, we get the sense that he has been hand-picked for the role of liberator.
Moses must remove his sandals in the presence of God. The instruction appears odd since Moses is walking on open ground. But the action is symbolic. The sandals carry soil from other places, and Moses should be free of all contaminants in God’s presence. The removal of sandals indicates Moses is dropping all pretensions before God. He will submit to the divine will. Of course, in Catholic churches we don’t take off our shoes before entering, but we do bless ourselves with holy water. The blessing has the same symbolic significance. We want to cleanse ourselves of all sinful tendencies as we listen to God’s instructions.
Then God reveals his plan to Moses. He has heard the Hebrews plea. He will rescue them from suffering in Egypt and deliver them to a land of plenty. As spectacular as that accomplishment will be, it will not equal Christ’s Easter victory over sin. His death will achieve for us forgiveness of sins. We can leave behind the guilt of our past to start over again. His resurrection will send us the Holy Spirit to advance in the struggle against evil. Yes, individual Christians sometimes backslide. Yet the record of Catholic schools in education and of Catholic organizations in charity is impressive. Catholic Relief Services, for example, is ranked among the largest and most efficient relief and development organizations in the world.
Yet some of us are reluctant to trust ourselves to Christ as presented in the Church. We wonder if the achievements of the Church in education, medicine, and social development are incidental to its claim as being the body of Christ. “Why does the Church exclude women from the priesthood or prohibit divorced Catholics to receive Communion?” we ask. We dither like Moses when he asks God to reveal His name. Moses is not quite sure that God is a friend. After all, the gods of other peoples are quite capricious, treating human beings with no more care than boys swatting flies. How could Moses be sure that God is not just leading him down a dark alley? He has the answer to that question: he will ask God for identification.
Astoundingly, God provides it! He tells Moses that he is, “I AM” – that is always there for His people. He is always ready to help them and even to forgive their faults if they but repent of their sins. Providing the people with His name is no small concession. It is having the cell number of the President! We might find in the name “I AM” the motive of the Church’s resistance to faddish change. As God is eternally there for His people, the Church tries to remain faithful to Christ’s teachings. His commands to treat the least of people as we would treat him as well as the proscription of divorce stand forever.
A particularly disgusting advertisement shows bacteria germs infiltrating toenails leaving them green and calcified. That’s a very graphic way to picture the evil which we face in the world. It confronts us outwardly with ignorance, disease, violence and poverty. It also leads us down the blind alley of pride, envy, and lust. To advance in the struggle against it we need Christ’s help. He is human by birth so he knows and loves us. He is also the Son of God with access to the chambers of power. We can count on him in our struggle against evil. We can always count on him.
Homilette for Thursday, March 8, 2007
MASS OF ANOINTING OF THE SICK
Fr. Leo Thomas was a Dominican priest who had a gift of healing the sick. In a book he writes of how he ministered to a fellow Dominican, called only “Fr. Anthony,” who had cancer. When Fr. Anthony eventually died, his superior asked Fr. Leo if he wanted to preach at the funeral mass. Fr. Leo writes that he had the distinct impression that the superior was asking Fr. Leo to bury one of his “failures” because he had prayed for Fr. Anthony’s healing for six months. No, Fr. Leo concluded, he hadn’t failed. During the time of ministry, Fr. Anthony experienced a transformation. He went from having an intellectual idea of God’s love to a feeling of God’s compassion and an experiential knowledge of God’s care. He became ready for, indeed he had a glimpse of, eternal life. This kind of transformation is what the Sacrament of Anointing proposes.
The principal purpose of the Sacrament of the Sick is to take away sins. For this reason it is grouped with the Sacrament of Reconciliation as the “sacraments of healing.” This does not mean, of course, that sickness is caused by personal sin as was commonly thought in Biblical times and is sometimes held today. Disease is a manifestation of evil in the world which God sent His son Jesus Christ to overcome. We remember Jesus telling his disciples when he is about to cure the man born blind, “Neither he nor his parents sinned; it is so that the works of God might be made visible through him” (Jn 9:3).
The second benefit of the Sacrament of the Sick is that it strengthens the soul’s conviction that God can and will save us. With increased confidence in God’s mercy, the sick person can “more easily bear the trials and hardships of his sickness and resist the temptations of the devil.” “What temptations?” we may ask. The truth is the sick and aged may commit many kinds of sins. Burdened by sickness, they might curse God! This serious sin is exactly what tempted Job, but didn’t succeed in bringing him down. More typically the sick can become cranky and inconsiderate of those around them and even forget to thank God for their lives.
We should not expect physical recovery with sacramental anointing, but we should not exclude the possibility either. We certainly can hope that it takes place and we have all heard stories of it doing precisely that. But like Fr. Thomas, we do not have to think that the sacrament has failed if after its administration there is no physical change or if the patient’s physical condition becomes worse. The primary purpose of the sacrament is to strengthen our faith, not our body.
So let’s come forward – any who are seriously sick or weakened with age – to receive the Sacrament of the Sick. Believe that Jesus is bringing you salvation. Perhaps you will not be healed of the infirmity but your faith shall increase in Jesus. He will deliver you from death. He will give an eternal home. Be at peace.
Fr. Leo Thomas was a Dominican priest who had a gift of healing the sick. In a book he writes of how he ministered to a fellow Dominican, called only “Fr. Anthony,” who had cancer. When Fr. Anthony eventually died, his superior asked Fr. Leo if he wanted to preach at the funeral mass. Fr. Leo writes that he had the distinct impression that the superior was asking Fr. Leo to bury one of his “failures” because he had prayed for Fr. Anthony’s healing for six months. No, Fr. Leo concluded, he hadn’t failed. During the time of ministry, Fr. Anthony experienced a transformation. He went from having an intellectual idea of God’s love to a feeling of God’s compassion and an experiential knowledge of God’s care. He became ready for, indeed he had a glimpse of, eternal life. This kind of transformation is what the Sacrament of Anointing proposes.
The principal purpose of the Sacrament of the Sick is to take away sins. For this reason it is grouped with the Sacrament of Reconciliation as the “sacraments of healing.” This does not mean, of course, that sickness is caused by personal sin as was commonly thought in Biblical times and is sometimes held today. Disease is a manifestation of evil in the world which God sent His son Jesus Christ to overcome. We remember Jesus telling his disciples when he is about to cure the man born blind, “Neither he nor his parents sinned; it is so that the works of God might be made visible through him” (Jn 9:3).
The second benefit of the Sacrament of the Sick is that it strengthens the soul’s conviction that God can and will save us. With increased confidence in God’s mercy, the sick person can “more easily bear the trials and hardships of his sickness and resist the temptations of the devil.” “What temptations?” we may ask. The truth is the sick and aged may commit many kinds of sins. Burdened by sickness, they might curse God! This serious sin is exactly what tempted Job, but didn’t succeed in bringing him down. More typically the sick can become cranky and inconsiderate of those around them and even forget to thank God for their lives.
We should not expect physical recovery with sacramental anointing, but we should not exclude the possibility either. We certainly can hope that it takes place and we have all heard stories of it doing precisely that. But like Fr. Thomas, we do not have to think that the sacrament has failed if after its administration there is no physical change or if the patient’s physical condition becomes worse. The primary purpose of the sacrament is to strengthen our faith, not our body.
So let’s come forward – any who are seriously sick or weakened with age – to receive the Sacrament of the Sick. Believe that Jesus is bringing you salvation. Perhaps you will not be healed of the infirmity but your faith shall increase in Jesus. He will deliver you from death. He will give an eternal home. Be at peace.
Homilette for Wednesday, March 7, 2007
Wednesday, II Lent, March 7, 2007
The great virtuoso violinist Ishak Perlman tells the story of a woman asking him to listen to her son play the violin. When Perlman rather reluctantly agreed, the mother took out a tape recorder and played a cassette. Perlman marveled at the beautiful music. “He sounds just like Ya Ya Haifitz,” Perlman said. “That is Ya Ya Haifitz,” the mother replied, “and my son plays just like that.”
Parents are apt to exaggerate their children’s talents. Children may allow them to do so if they see some gain for themselves. Evidently James and John do not mind their mother soliciting Jesus for seats ahead of Peter and the rest of the disciples in the Kingdom of God. But the brothers’ exalted images of themselves in the Kingdom do not impress Jesus. He is interested in whether they are willing to suffer for the sake of that kingdom.
Lent is the season for us to get a grip on our pride. Most of us generally think too much of ourselves. Rather than compare ourselves downwards to see how much better we are in some things than other people, we should compare ourselves with the saints. Then we will see how we fail to trust God with our worries and how we fail to love our enemies with our prayers.
The great virtuoso violinist Ishak Perlman tells the story of a woman asking him to listen to her son play the violin. When Perlman rather reluctantly agreed, the mother took out a tape recorder and played a cassette. Perlman marveled at the beautiful music. “He sounds just like Ya Ya Haifitz,” Perlman said. “That is Ya Ya Haifitz,” the mother replied, “and my son plays just like that.”
Parents are apt to exaggerate their children’s talents. Children may allow them to do so if they see some gain for themselves. Evidently James and John do not mind their mother soliciting Jesus for seats ahead of Peter and the rest of the disciples in the Kingdom of God. But the brothers’ exalted images of themselves in the Kingdom do not impress Jesus. He is interested in whether they are willing to suffer for the sake of that kingdom.
Lent is the season for us to get a grip on our pride. Most of us generally think too much of ourselves. Rather than compare ourselves downwards to see how much better we are in some things than other people, we should compare ourselves with the saints. Then we will see how we fail to trust God with our worries and how we fail to love our enemies with our prayers.
Homilett for Tuesday, March 6, `972
Tuesday, Week II
(Matthew 23)
The gospel today should hit church-goers between the eyes. Jesus is criticizing the Pharisees, the religious zealots who give religion a bad name. They are pompous about practicing religion, but are hardly charitable toward other people. The passage implicitly asks us if we may not be women and men of the Pharisees. Do we like to be seen in church but afterwards gossip about people? Do we pray at home but then express intolerance for other races and religions? If so, we would be among the biggest of sinners in Jesus’ book.
Of course, not all people who come to church are Pharisees – far from it. But at times someone calls the rectory demanding an apology for something as small as a mass intention that he had requested not being announced publicly. Certainly priests can be among the greatest of the Pharisees. The scandal over sexual abuse of children and adolescents testifies amply to that. When we find Pharisaical tendencies in our behavior, we must seek God’s assistance in prayer. We should also keep in mind Jesus’ constant teaching about humility. The ones who exalt themselves God will humble while those who act humbly, God will exalt.
(Matthew 23)
The gospel today should hit church-goers between the eyes. Jesus is criticizing the Pharisees, the religious zealots who give religion a bad name. They are pompous about practicing religion, but are hardly charitable toward other people. The passage implicitly asks us if we may not be women and men of the Pharisees. Do we like to be seen in church but afterwards gossip about people? Do we pray at home but then express intolerance for other races and religions? If so, we would be among the biggest of sinners in Jesus’ book.
Of course, not all people who come to church are Pharisees – far from it. But at times someone calls the rectory demanding an apology for something as small as a mass intention that he had requested not being announced publicly. Certainly priests can be among the greatest of the Pharisees. The scandal over sexual abuse of children and adolescents testifies amply to that. When we find Pharisaical tendencies in our behavior, we must seek God’s assistance in prayer. We should also keep in mind Jesus’ constant teaching about humility. The ones who exalt themselves God will humble while those who act humbly, God will exalt.
Homilette for Monday, March 5, 2007
Monday, Lent Week 2
(Luke 6)
Matthew Shepard was brutally murdered in 1998. Shepard’s killers assaulted him because he was a homosexual. After the guilty verdict Shepard’s parents agreed with the state not to seek the death penalty. Shepard’s father told one of the killers, “I would like nothing better than to see you die, Mr. McKinney, but now is the time to heal.” Although this may sound like half-hearted forgiveness, it probably took real courage to utter.
In the gospel today Jesus calls us to be merciful. It has been pointed out that where in the Gospel of Matthew Jesus calls his disciples to be perfect, Luke shows him emphasizing mercy as if mercy is the perfection of God. When we are called upon to forgive a really serious offense, it certainly seems like a superhuman task. As one poet put it, “To err is human; to forgive divine.”
What’s critical is that we don’t dwell on how we feel in such situations. Naturally we are upset. Many times anger will remain as a residue in us like the smoke marks around a fire place. We should imitate Matthew Shepard’s father and not let what we would like to see rule over what we think. No, as Jesus’ disciples, we must decide to forgive those who offend us.
(Luke 6)
Matthew Shepard was brutally murdered in 1998. Shepard’s killers assaulted him because he was a homosexual. After the guilty verdict Shepard’s parents agreed with the state not to seek the death penalty. Shepard’s father told one of the killers, “I would like nothing better than to see you die, Mr. McKinney, but now is the time to heal.” Although this may sound like half-hearted forgiveness, it probably took real courage to utter.
In the gospel today Jesus calls us to be merciful. It has been pointed out that where in the Gospel of Matthew Jesus calls his disciples to be perfect, Luke shows him emphasizing mercy as if mercy is the perfection of God. When we are called upon to forgive a really serious offense, it certainly seems like a superhuman task. As one poet put it, “To err is human; to forgive divine.”
What’s critical is that we don’t dwell on how we feel in such situations. Naturally we are upset. Many times anger will remain as a residue in us like the smoke marks around a fire place. We should imitate Matthew Shepard’s father and not let what we would like to see rule over what we think. No, as Jesus’ disciples, we must decide to forgive those who offend us.
Homily for Sunday, March 4, 2007
II Sunday of Lent
(Luke 9)
Context is critical. If we yell “fire” in a theatre where there is no fire, we might be convicted of manslaughter. But if, in fact, a fire has broken out, we might be rewarded as heroes. There is a significant context to Jesus’ going up the mountain to pray. He has just made the realization that he will suffer and be killed on behalf of the people. He shares this prediction with his disciples. And he tells them that they will have to take up their crosses behind him.
Mountains are places of visions. The night before he was assassinated, Martin Luther King, Jr., gave his famous “mountaintop” speech. He said that he had received a letter from a little girl after he had been stabbed in the chest. The knife blade had lodged itself a fraction of an inch from his heart so that if he had sneezed it would have killed him. The girl wrote that she was glad he hadn’t sneezed. Dr. King admitted that he too was glad he hadn’t sneezed. He said that if he had, he could not have been to the mountaintop. From the mountaintop he saw African-Americans in Selma, Alabama, and Albany, Georgia, standing up for their rights. From the mountaintop he saw hundreds of thousands of people – black and white – endorse his dream of equality in Washington, D.C. That was is a great vision of liberation, but there is a vision of even greater liberation on the mountaintop with Jesus.
Jesus is being “changed in appearance” with his clothing becoming “dazzling white.” No doubt, this transfiguration consoles him after becoming aware that he will be crucified. Now he is assured that his death will end in glory. We can appreciate Jesus’ new confidence. As we saw in the gospel about the temptations last week, Jesus is human like us. No one wants to suffer. But if we can be guaranteed that our pain has purpose, we might bear it. So marathon runners undergo grueling conditioning in order to compete at Boston or New York. So teachers forsake large salaries in order to assist children learn. So parents sacrifice meals and rest in order to care of a sick infant.
The conversation with Moses and Elijah is also encouraging. The two prophets inform Jesus that his “exodus” or death in Jerusalem is not incidental. Rather, he will die there to fulfill what God his Father has planned for His people from the beginning. Moses led the original exodus freeing the Israelites from slavery and bringing them to the Promised Land. Elijah waged the winless battle of keeping Israel faithful to God’s law. Now Christ will bring the work of freedom and faithfulness to completion. Liberation will begin in Jerusalem and go out to the whole world. Jesus will free us from our sins and send his Spirit to keep us faithful to his new law of love.
With the disciples we should be waking from our sleep. That is, we should become aware of how we have been held captive. Slave masters do not bind us. But distorted values of our contemporaries do. There is a saying, “In America one cannot be either too rich or too thin.” America esteems money and sex, the drive behind its obsession with thinness. Even people who come to church talk of wealth as if it were their greatest hope. Many hold sexual pleasure as a natural right like voting or education. All the attention given to Anne Nicole Smith’s demise last month illustrates this reality.
From the cloud God claims Jesus as His son. He urges the disciples, “...listen to him.” The ordeal he will undergo will unbind them. His teachings will point them in the direction of heaven, their true goal. Jesus teaches us not to despise money but to help the poor with it so that our treasure may accrue in heaven. He tells us that sex is to be treated with utmost regard. We are not to lust after one another but to love everyone as a brother or sister. This coming week in the mission we will listen to more of Jesus’ teaching. I think that you will find it interesting and hope that you can attend.
The movie “Flags of Our Fathers” shows what we might call the liberation of Iwo Jima. Japanese soldiers are dug into the rocks like ants. U.S. marines must fight them hand-to-hand in cases. For awhile it’s a winless battle. But at last there’s the vision of the American flag raised on the mountaintop. We can think of Jesus liberating us from the distorted contemporary values of money and sex with even greater effort. He has to suffer and be killed. But he makes the sacrifice out of love for us, his brothers and sisters. He loves us.
(Luke 9)
Context is critical. If we yell “fire” in a theatre where there is no fire, we might be convicted of manslaughter. But if, in fact, a fire has broken out, we might be rewarded as heroes. There is a significant context to Jesus’ going up the mountain to pray. He has just made the realization that he will suffer and be killed on behalf of the people. He shares this prediction with his disciples. And he tells them that they will have to take up their crosses behind him.
Mountains are places of visions. The night before he was assassinated, Martin Luther King, Jr., gave his famous “mountaintop” speech. He said that he had received a letter from a little girl after he had been stabbed in the chest. The knife blade had lodged itself a fraction of an inch from his heart so that if he had sneezed it would have killed him. The girl wrote that she was glad he hadn’t sneezed. Dr. King admitted that he too was glad he hadn’t sneezed. He said that if he had, he could not have been to the mountaintop. From the mountaintop he saw African-Americans in Selma, Alabama, and Albany, Georgia, standing up for their rights. From the mountaintop he saw hundreds of thousands of people – black and white – endorse his dream of equality in Washington, D.C. That was is a great vision of liberation, but there is a vision of even greater liberation on the mountaintop with Jesus.
Jesus is being “changed in appearance” with his clothing becoming “dazzling white.” No doubt, this transfiguration consoles him after becoming aware that he will be crucified. Now he is assured that his death will end in glory. We can appreciate Jesus’ new confidence. As we saw in the gospel about the temptations last week, Jesus is human like us. No one wants to suffer. But if we can be guaranteed that our pain has purpose, we might bear it. So marathon runners undergo grueling conditioning in order to compete at Boston or New York. So teachers forsake large salaries in order to assist children learn. So parents sacrifice meals and rest in order to care of a sick infant.
The conversation with Moses and Elijah is also encouraging. The two prophets inform Jesus that his “exodus” or death in Jerusalem is not incidental. Rather, he will die there to fulfill what God his Father has planned for His people from the beginning. Moses led the original exodus freeing the Israelites from slavery and bringing them to the Promised Land. Elijah waged the winless battle of keeping Israel faithful to God’s law. Now Christ will bring the work of freedom and faithfulness to completion. Liberation will begin in Jerusalem and go out to the whole world. Jesus will free us from our sins and send his Spirit to keep us faithful to his new law of love.
With the disciples we should be waking from our sleep. That is, we should become aware of how we have been held captive. Slave masters do not bind us. But distorted values of our contemporaries do. There is a saying, “In America one cannot be either too rich or too thin.” America esteems money and sex, the drive behind its obsession with thinness. Even people who come to church talk of wealth as if it were their greatest hope. Many hold sexual pleasure as a natural right like voting or education. All the attention given to Anne Nicole Smith’s demise last month illustrates this reality.
From the cloud God claims Jesus as His son. He urges the disciples, “...listen to him.” The ordeal he will undergo will unbind them. His teachings will point them in the direction of heaven, their true goal. Jesus teaches us not to despise money but to help the poor with it so that our treasure may accrue in heaven. He tells us that sex is to be treated with utmost regard. We are not to lust after one another but to love everyone as a brother or sister. This coming week in the mission we will listen to more of Jesus’ teaching. I think that you will find it interesting and hope that you can attend.
The movie “Flags of Our Fathers” shows what we might call the liberation of Iwo Jima. Japanese soldiers are dug into the rocks like ants. U.S. marines must fight them hand-to-hand in cases. For awhile it’s a winless battle. But at last there’s the vision of the American flag raised on the mountaintop. We can think of Jesus liberating us from the distorted contemporary values of money and sex with even greater effort. He has to suffer and be killed. But he makes the sacrifice out of love for us, his brothers and sisters. He loves us.
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