Friday, the Feast of St. Andrew, Apostle
(Matthew 4:18-22)
Although we know very little about St. Andrew, Christians remember the date of his feast before that of any other apostle. November 30 is etched in our minds because of its closeness to the beginning of Advent. The feast does not really commence the season, but the Sunday nearest the date always is its beginning.
As Advent marks a new liturgical year, St. Andrew represents the newness of Jesus’ preaching. Andrew is considered to be the first disciple whom Jesus’ preaching attracts. Today’s gospel shows Jesus calling the fishermen Andrew and his brother Peter to follow him. They do so unreservedly by leaving their fishing nets “at once.” In John’s Gospel Jesus likewise encounters Andrew along with another man (not Peter) – both of whom are disciples of the Baptist. The two begin to follow Jesus when Jesus bids them to share his life. In both gospels Jesus precipitates a radical choice. His authority is totally irresistible like nothing ever before experienced.
The Church celebrates saints as models of the Christian life and as heavenly intercessors for our salvation. On this Feast of St. Andrew when we still await the beginning of Advent, we might keep in mind the twofold objective in a unique way. First, we might make the radical choice this year of contemplating during Advent the meaning of Jesus’ coming and not indulging in pre-Christmas revelry. Then we might pray to this saint, whom it is said suffered an agonizing death on an X-shaped cross, for the strength to see our decision through.
Homilette for Thursday, November 29, 2007
Thursday, XXXIV Week of Ordinary Time
(Luke 21:20-28)
In 1960 when the first of the baby-boomers were growing up, the popular entertainer Pat Boone addressed himself to them. Twixt Twelve and Twenty was the title of both a song and a short book Boone wrote. In these works he gave sound advice for navigating these often difficult years between childhood and adulthood. The song asks whether teenagers are old enough to understand the devotion that love entails. Of course, it answers its question positively but also notes how faith and trust must accompany love to avoid calamity.
When Jesus speaks of “the times of the Gentiles” in the gospel, he is also referring to in between years. He sees the time of the Jews as passing away with the imminent destruction of Jerusalem, an event which takes place in the year 70. But we should not take this to mean that God has abandoned the Jews. Rather, Jesus’ envisions what his apostle Paul writes to the Romans: God has turned His attention to the Gentiles or non-Jews so that their conversion will move the Jews to also recognize Jesus as Lord.
In these in between years before the fulfillment of time with the coming of Jesus, we are also to love faithfully as Pat Boone suggests. When we truly care for others, we do not have to worry about getting mud on our faces from the difficulty of it all. Indeed, we can lift our heads high at the signs of Christ’s coming because he means to save us.
(Luke 21:20-28)
In 1960 when the first of the baby-boomers were growing up, the popular entertainer Pat Boone addressed himself to them. Twixt Twelve and Twenty was the title of both a song and a short book Boone wrote. In these works he gave sound advice for navigating these often difficult years between childhood and adulthood. The song asks whether teenagers are old enough to understand the devotion that love entails. Of course, it answers its question positively but also notes how faith and trust must accompany love to avoid calamity.
When Jesus speaks of “the times of the Gentiles” in the gospel, he is also referring to in between years. He sees the time of the Jews as passing away with the imminent destruction of Jerusalem, an event which takes place in the year 70. But we should not take this to mean that God has abandoned the Jews. Rather, Jesus’ envisions what his apostle Paul writes to the Romans: God has turned His attention to the Gentiles or non-Jews so that their conversion will move the Jews to also recognize Jesus as Lord.
In these in between years before the fulfillment of time with the coming of Jesus, we are also to love faithfully as Pat Boone suggests. When we truly care for others, we do not have to worry about getting mud on our faces from the difficulty of it all. Indeed, we can lift our heads high at the signs of Christ’s coming because he means to save us.
Homilette for Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Wednesday, XXXIV Week of Ordinary Time
(Luke 21:12-19)
“Non sequitur” is a Latin expression that means a conclusion does not follow from the evidence given. Listening carefully to Jesus in the gospel, we might think that “not a hair on your head will be destroyed” is a non sequitur from all that he says before about betrayal, trial, and execution. But Jesus has something else in mind when he adds the assurance about one’s coiffure. He means that we will have an eternal, glorified life when we give testimony to him in the world.
The passage helps us understand the crucial difference between optimism and hope. We may think that the two words are synonyms; that is, that they carry the same meaning. Although optimism and hope share a similar confidence in a positive outcome, the two words are distinct. Optimism is an attitude expecting every situation to turn out well. It overlooks the possibility of harm to find a solution to every problem and a remedy for every threat, largely because of the person’s upbeat disposition. Hope, in contrast, admits the possibility of suffering for awhile but sees deliverance, in the long run at least, outside the self in the person or thing in which the person hopes. Hope is not as self-reliant as optimism, nor is it so sure that relief is just an instant away.
In facing trials – whether persecution for the faith, debilitating sickness, or other threat to well-being – Christians hope in Jesus Christ. He promises to deliver us when we cling to him. The deliverance may not exclude our suffering, but in the end he will save us. Jesus’ promise is confirmed by his resurrection from the tomb.
(Luke 21:12-19)
“Non sequitur” is a Latin expression that means a conclusion does not follow from the evidence given. Listening carefully to Jesus in the gospel, we might think that “not a hair on your head will be destroyed” is a non sequitur from all that he says before about betrayal, trial, and execution. But Jesus has something else in mind when he adds the assurance about one’s coiffure. He means that we will have an eternal, glorified life when we give testimony to him in the world.
The passage helps us understand the crucial difference between optimism and hope. We may think that the two words are synonyms; that is, that they carry the same meaning. Although optimism and hope share a similar confidence in a positive outcome, the two words are distinct. Optimism is an attitude expecting every situation to turn out well. It overlooks the possibility of harm to find a solution to every problem and a remedy for every threat, largely because of the person’s upbeat disposition. Hope, in contrast, admits the possibility of suffering for awhile but sees deliverance, in the long run at least, outside the self in the person or thing in which the person hopes. Hope is not as self-reliant as optimism, nor is it so sure that relief is just an instant away.
In facing trials – whether persecution for the faith, debilitating sickness, or other threat to well-being – Christians hope in Jesus Christ. He promises to deliver us when we cling to him. The deliverance may not exclude our suffering, but in the end he will save us. Jesus’ promise is confirmed by his resurrection from the tomb.
Homilette for Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Tuesday, XXXIV Week of Ordinary Time
(Luke 21:5-11)
The poem “Ozymandias” tells the story of finding a statue of an ancient Egpytian king. The statue sits in the desert shattered from top to bottom. Ironically there is a sign on part of the statue informing its viewer that this is a representation of the mighty “king of kings” Ozymandias. The poem reminds the reader that the greatest works as well as the greatest people are all time-bound. They do not last for centuries, much less until the end of time.
In the gospel Jesus relates to us the same prophetic message. People gaze starry-eyed at the wonders of the Temple, but Jesus tells them not to be impressed. The Temple, he says, will fall as it indeed did barely a generation after his death. Jesus also warns his disciples not to follow unreservedly the great personages who may claim to be him or like him. These men and women will also pass away.
We Christians give our allegiance to God alone. As the psalms tell us, his law is eternal and so we follow it. Yes, we try to make of the earth the best possible place to live. But our purpose here is not to become complacent. No, we want a friendly environment in the world so that we might come to know and love God more.
(Luke 21:5-11)
The poem “Ozymandias” tells the story of finding a statue of an ancient Egpytian king. The statue sits in the desert shattered from top to bottom. Ironically there is a sign on part of the statue informing its viewer that this is a representation of the mighty “king of kings” Ozymandias. The poem reminds the reader that the greatest works as well as the greatest people are all time-bound. They do not last for centuries, much less until the end of time.
In the gospel Jesus relates to us the same prophetic message. People gaze starry-eyed at the wonders of the Temple, but Jesus tells them not to be impressed. The Temple, he says, will fall as it indeed did barely a generation after his death. Jesus also warns his disciples not to follow unreservedly the great personages who may claim to be him or like him. These men and women will also pass away.
We Christians give our allegiance to God alone. As the psalms tell us, his law is eternal and so we follow it. Yes, we try to make of the earth the best possible place to live. But our purpose here is not to become complacent. No, we want a friendly environment in the world so that we might come to know and love God more.
Homilette for Monday, November 26, 2007
Monday, XXXIV Week of Ordinary Time
(Daniel 1:1-6.8-20, Luke 21:1-4)
A friend, who has a doctorate in biology, enjoys telling me about the diet of Chinese peasants. He says that since they are dirt poor, Chinese peasants can afford little meat and dairy products. Rather, he explains, they mainly eat vegetables and receive the protein that their bodies require from beans and other legumes. My friend is convinced that the Chinese peasant diet is not inferior but significantly superior to richer, western diets. He says that the fats that we consume from eating meat not only threaten our hearts but also are related to cancer.
The results of the vegetable only experiment related in the first reading today, then, should not surprise us. Although the chamberlain believes that Daniel and his companions would be undernourished by a vegetarian diet, actually they eat more healthily than the others. But, of course, good nutrition is not the prophet’s point in relating this story. Probably he, like the chamberlain, considers the diet wanting nutritionally. He means to tell us that when we abide by the Lord’s will, things always work out better. We do not need to worry, as Jesus says, about what we eat and drink or about what clothes we wear when seek first God’s kingdom.
Jesus reaffirms this lesson in the gospel today. He praises the poor widow for her generosity which is precisely the virtue he has extolled throughout this Gospel According to Luke. Sometimes we think that we might ignore God’s will as expressed by Jesus in order to secure more of a desired good. Some people argue, for example, that it would be all right to take the life of a patient suffering from incurable cancer so that she does not suffer. But such an action would violate the sanctity of human life, one of the highest principles of God’s law. No, we go out of our way to comfort and console those in agony, but we never take their lives.
(Daniel 1:1-6.8-20, Luke 21:1-4)
A friend, who has a doctorate in biology, enjoys telling me about the diet of Chinese peasants. He says that since they are dirt poor, Chinese peasants can afford little meat and dairy products. Rather, he explains, they mainly eat vegetables and receive the protein that their bodies require from beans and other legumes. My friend is convinced that the Chinese peasant diet is not inferior but significantly superior to richer, western diets. He says that the fats that we consume from eating meat not only threaten our hearts but also are related to cancer.
The results of the vegetable only experiment related in the first reading today, then, should not surprise us. Although the chamberlain believes that Daniel and his companions would be undernourished by a vegetarian diet, actually they eat more healthily than the others. But, of course, good nutrition is not the prophet’s point in relating this story. Probably he, like the chamberlain, considers the diet wanting nutritionally. He means to tell us that when we abide by the Lord’s will, things always work out better. We do not need to worry, as Jesus says, about what we eat and drink or about what clothes we wear when seek first God’s kingdom.
Jesus reaffirms this lesson in the gospel today. He praises the poor widow for her generosity which is precisely the virtue he has extolled throughout this Gospel According to Luke. Sometimes we think that we might ignore God’s will as expressed by Jesus in order to secure more of a desired good. Some people argue, for example, that it would be all right to take the life of a patient suffering from incurable cancer so that she does not suffer. But such an action would violate the sanctity of human life, one of the highest principles of God’s law. No, we go out of our way to comfort and console those in agony, but we never take their lives.
Homilette for Friday, November 24, 2007
Friday of the XXXIII Week of Ordinary Time
I Maccabees 4:36-37.52-59, Lucas 19:45-48
The first reading today describes the origins of the Jewish feast of Hanukkah. Many people, especially in the United States, see this feast as a Jewish Christmas because it is celebrated around the same time of year. However, its significance to Jews seems as slight as a pencil in comparison to the meaning of Jesus’ birth to us.
As we might have heard yesterday if it were not Thanksgiving, the Maccabee family started a rebellion against the Seleucid (Syrian) kings. For years the foreigners had occupied Israel with relative peace until Antiochus IV Epiphanes came to the throne in 175 B.C. The new king tried to impose pagan customs on the people desecrating the Temple with an altar to Zeus. By 167 B.C. Mattathias Maccabeus and his sons had enough. They rallied faithful Jews behind them to oust the occupiers. In the passage today Mattathias’ son Judas leads the rededication of the Temple and declares an annual celebration which Jews observe today as Hanukkah.
In the gospel we find Jesus performing a vaguely similar cleansing of the Temple. The situation, of course, is very different but it is the same zeal for the holy that impels Jesus to drive out the vendors. Both readings remind us of the centrality of a consecrated place to worship. We might praise God anywhere and should pray wherever we find ourselves. But the Temple and synagogue for Jews and the church for Christians have a unique importance. They are the designated places of encounter with God hallowed by the prayers of our forbearers in many cases for ages. They testify to the truth that Judaism and Christianity are not fads but vibrant avenues of communication with the living God.
I Maccabees 4:36-37.52-59, Lucas 19:45-48
The first reading today describes the origins of the Jewish feast of Hanukkah. Many people, especially in the United States, see this feast as a Jewish Christmas because it is celebrated around the same time of year. However, its significance to Jews seems as slight as a pencil in comparison to the meaning of Jesus’ birth to us.
As we might have heard yesterday if it were not Thanksgiving, the Maccabee family started a rebellion against the Seleucid (Syrian) kings. For years the foreigners had occupied Israel with relative peace until Antiochus IV Epiphanes came to the throne in 175 B.C. The new king tried to impose pagan customs on the people desecrating the Temple with an altar to Zeus. By 167 B.C. Mattathias Maccabeus and his sons had enough. They rallied faithful Jews behind them to oust the occupiers. In the passage today Mattathias’ son Judas leads the rededication of the Temple and declares an annual celebration which Jews observe today as Hanukkah.
In the gospel we find Jesus performing a vaguely similar cleansing of the Temple. The situation, of course, is very different but it is the same zeal for the holy that impels Jesus to drive out the vendors. Both readings remind us of the centrality of a consecrated place to worship. We might praise God anywhere and should pray wherever we find ourselves. But the Temple and synagogue for Jews and the church for Christians have a unique importance. They are the designated places of encounter with God hallowed by the prayers of our forbearers in many cases for ages. They testify to the truth that Judaism and Christianity are not fads but vibrant avenues of communication with the living God.
Homilette for Thursday, November 22, 2007
Thanksgiving Day
Luke 17:11-19
Why is Jesus annoyed that the other nine lepers do not return to give him thanks? Can he not appreciate how their first reactions after being so completely marginalized might be jubilation, not thanksgiving? Since he healed ten, does he feel personally offended that all do not recognize his power? Or is there another, explanation, more characteristic of Jesus?
The fourth preface for weekdays provides an intriguing answer to these questions. The preface is the prayer of thanksgiving that the priest makes on behalf of the people at Mass just before the consecration of the bread and wine. One option of the many prefaces available uses these words: “Our prayer of thanksgiving adds nothing to your greatness but makes us grow in your grace.” In the gospel Jesus is not upset because he is slighted by the nine lepers who do not return. Rather he is sorry that they do not take advantage of the gift that God extends by our giving thanks. Jesus reveals God’s inestimable gift when he tells the grateful leper, “...your faith has saved you.” As terrible a curse as leprosy is, it cannot compare to the oblivion of eternal perdition. The tenth leper has found his way to salvation, the greatest of God’s graces.
Today we pause to thank God’s for many gifts, but especially prosperity to our nation. Although salvation has a radically personal element, still the environment in which we find ourselves contributes to it. God has blessed Americans with universal education, an over-abundant food supply, and almost limitless opportunity to practice virtue while securing for ourselves and our families a good life. Like the good leper we seek our salvation as we turn to God in thanksgiving for all these blessings.
Luke 17:11-19
Why is Jesus annoyed that the other nine lepers do not return to give him thanks? Can he not appreciate how their first reactions after being so completely marginalized might be jubilation, not thanksgiving? Since he healed ten, does he feel personally offended that all do not recognize his power? Or is there another, explanation, more characteristic of Jesus?
The fourth preface for weekdays provides an intriguing answer to these questions. The preface is the prayer of thanksgiving that the priest makes on behalf of the people at Mass just before the consecration of the bread and wine. One option of the many prefaces available uses these words: “Our prayer of thanksgiving adds nothing to your greatness but makes us grow in your grace.” In the gospel Jesus is not upset because he is slighted by the nine lepers who do not return. Rather he is sorry that they do not take advantage of the gift that God extends by our giving thanks. Jesus reveals God’s inestimable gift when he tells the grateful leper, “...your faith has saved you.” As terrible a curse as leprosy is, it cannot compare to the oblivion of eternal perdition. The tenth leper has found his way to salvation, the greatest of God’s graces.
Today we pause to thank God’s for many gifts, but especially prosperity to our nation. Although salvation has a radically personal element, still the environment in which we find ourselves contributes to it. God has blessed Americans with universal education, an over-abundant food supply, and almost limitless opportunity to practice virtue while securing for ourselves and our families a good life. Like the good leper we seek our salvation as we turn to God in thanksgiving for all these blessings.
Homilette for Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Wednesday, Memorial of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary
Luke 19:11-28
In his Confessions St. Augustine asks, “What then is time?” He says that he knows what it is if no one asks, but when prompted to explain it, then a sufficient answer escapes him. In the gospel today, Jesus does not attempt to explain what time is. But he compares it to gold coins that a rich man might give to his servants to be invested shrewdly. Like the coins, time is not a gift and much less a luxury. Rather it is an article of trade that humans are to use for producing the tender care that is pleasing to God.
In Jesus’ parable, as we just heard, one servant returns the coin to his master with no interest at all. He has not squandered his time but has not taken advantage of it either. We can imagine him getting up in the morning, going to work, eating dinner and watching television before going to bed – a cycle that is repeated thousands of times in a long life. What we might find innocuous, God finds deplorable. He condemns the man’s life as worthless and sends him packing.
If the judgment sounds harsh, we should take note of the last line of the passage. Jesus is off to Jerusalem where he will lay down his life for our welfare. We must read this as more than preparing a place for us in eternity. It means also that he releases for us the graces to make much of our time. We too can follow his way of selfless love that restores sight to the blind and sets captives free. Such acts make life – the time we have – worth living.
Luke 19:11-28
In his Confessions St. Augustine asks, “What then is time?” He says that he knows what it is if no one asks, but when prompted to explain it, then a sufficient answer escapes him. In the gospel today, Jesus does not attempt to explain what time is. But he compares it to gold coins that a rich man might give to his servants to be invested shrewdly. Like the coins, time is not a gift and much less a luxury. Rather it is an article of trade that humans are to use for producing the tender care that is pleasing to God.
In Jesus’ parable, as we just heard, one servant returns the coin to his master with no interest at all. He has not squandered his time but has not taken advantage of it either. We can imagine him getting up in the morning, going to work, eating dinner and watching television before going to bed – a cycle that is repeated thousands of times in a long life. What we might find innocuous, God finds deplorable. He condemns the man’s life as worthless and sends him packing.
If the judgment sounds harsh, we should take note of the last line of the passage. Jesus is off to Jerusalem where he will lay down his life for our welfare. We must read this as more than preparing a place for us in eternity. It means also that he releases for us the graces to make much of our time. We too can follow his way of selfless love that restores sight to the blind and sets captives free. Such acts make life – the time we have – worth living.
Homilette for Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Tuesday, XXXIII Week of Ordinary Time
II Maccabees 6:18-31
Our word scandal comes from the Greek skandalon meaning a trap or stumbling block. Scandals are moral potholes into which weaker individuals may fall and injure themselves. Certainly President Clinton’s indiscretions a decade ago left the impression for many in society that matrimonial infidelity is commonplace if not commendable. Similarly, the many instances of sexual abuse of minors involving Catholic clergy left many people distrustful of the value of the Church.
In the first reading today we find a counter-example. Eleazar, a ninety year old Jew, refuses to give scandal in order to strengthen those who might be inclined to compromise the integrity of their faith. Rather than leave the impression that he is eating pork, Eleazar rejects the idea that he substitute kosher meat for it. His stand will cost him his life but has distinguished his name in history as well as provided him a place of glory in heaven.
We look to the elderly as examples of what truly matters. They serve the critical function of reminding the rest of us that God counts above all and that we ought to love our neighbors as much as ourselves. In the upcoming holiday season they will hopefully show us again that our first obligation is to give thanks to God for all that we have. Then they should demonstrate how our caring presence to one another outshines diamonds that might be received in gifts.
II Maccabees 6:18-31
Our word scandal comes from the Greek skandalon meaning a trap or stumbling block. Scandals are moral potholes into which weaker individuals may fall and injure themselves. Certainly President Clinton’s indiscretions a decade ago left the impression for many in society that matrimonial infidelity is commonplace if not commendable. Similarly, the many instances of sexual abuse of minors involving Catholic clergy left many people distrustful of the value of the Church.
In the first reading today we find a counter-example. Eleazar, a ninety year old Jew, refuses to give scandal in order to strengthen those who might be inclined to compromise the integrity of their faith. Rather than leave the impression that he is eating pork, Eleazar rejects the idea that he substitute kosher meat for it. His stand will cost him his life but has distinguished his name in history as well as provided him a place of glory in heaven.
We look to the elderly as examples of what truly matters. They serve the critical function of reminding the rest of us that God counts above all and that we ought to love our neighbors as much as ourselves. In the upcoming holiday season they will hopefully show us again that our first obligation is to give thanks to God for all that we have. Then they should demonstrate how our caring presence to one another outshines diamonds that might be received in gifts.
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