Wednesday, XXIII Week of Ordinary Time
(Luke 6)
In the gospel today Jesus almost sounds like Jesse Jackson or Al Sharpton giving a harangue about economic justice. We might wish we could hold the mute button on him for awhile. But he is the Lord and definitely has something to say for us that will transcend the speech of other prophets which Jackson and Sharpton may legitimately be.
Jesus is addressing on one hand those who experience serious deprivations. He is talking to the poor who barely get by with what they have and to the mourning who experience loss continually. But he does not mean all the poor, all the hungry, all the weeping, and all the insulted. No, he is talking to his disciples or future disciples who suffer hardships to follow Jesus. Is there a way to insulate oneself from deprivation and still follow Jesus? Although there will be wealthy followers, even they will know sacrifice in order to follow Jesus.
Of course, Jesus does not limit his address to the have-nots but pronounces some choice words to the haves as well. Their future is bleak, he tells them, if they do not use what they have for the good of the needy. Jesus in this gospel does not condemn the rich, the sated, the joyful, and the well spoken of for being as they are but only when they selfishly horde what they have. Jesus relates the same lesson that we find in the legend of King Midas. The god Dionysius gave Midas the choice of anything he wanted. The king foolishly asked that whatever he touched be turned into gold. When the wish was granted, King Midas came to lament it because he found that he could not enjoy anything. All the food, comforts, even friends turned into the affectionless, inedible, durable metal.
Homilette for Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Tuesday, XXIII Week of Ordinary Time
(Colossians 2)
Paul uses several terms suggestive of carnal desire in the reading from the Letter to the Colossians today. Lest we think that sexual gratification is a peculiarly contemporary challenge, Paul reminds us that it has long caused human undoing. He speaks of “seductive” philosophy that can “captivate” and the need of “stripping off the carnal body” through a “circumcision” of “flesh.” People often allow wealth or power to undermine their stability, but sexual flights are more likely to unmoor humans from families and bob precariously on the sea of oblivion.
Christ offers us the way to salvation from this relentless urge. Paul urges us to anchor ourselves in him. “Rooted” in Christ we can stand up to desire choosing in its face what will truly bring us happiness. One young woman talked about the time she almost submitted to the desire for sex outside marriage but somehow found the courage to stop. Since that day, she said, she has worn a ring to hold the place where her wedding band will go to remind her of the gift she is saving for her future husband.
With the Internet sexual fantasies float freer than ever. If we are to overcome them we need to turn to Christ who is even more omnipresent. Assured of his love for us by his death on the cross, we will want to live for him. Not for sex or wealth or power, we will want to live for Christ.
(Colossians 2)
Paul uses several terms suggestive of carnal desire in the reading from the Letter to the Colossians today. Lest we think that sexual gratification is a peculiarly contemporary challenge, Paul reminds us that it has long caused human undoing. He speaks of “seductive” philosophy that can “captivate” and the need of “stripping off the carnal body” through a “circumcision” of “flesh.” People often allow wealth or power to undermine their stability, but sexual flights are more likely to unmoor humans from families and bob precariously on the sea of oblivion.
Christ offers us the way to salvation from this relentless urge. Paul urges us to anchor ourselves in him. “Rooted” in Christ we can stand up to desire choosing in its face what will truly bring us happiness. One young woman talked about the time she almost submitted to the desire for sex outside marriage but somehow found the courage to stop. Since that day, she said, she has worn a ring to hold the place where her wedding band will go to remind her of the gift she is saving for her future husband.
With the Internet sexual fantasies float freer than ever. If we are to overcome them we need to turn to Christ who is even more omnipresent. Assured of his love for us by his death on the cross, we will want to live for him. Not for sex or wealth or power, we will want to live for Christ.
Homilette for Monday, September 10, 2007
Monday, XXIII Week of Ordinary Time
(Colossians 1-2)
The first reading contains Paul’s mystical pronouncement that he makes up in his own sufferings what is lacking in Christ’s. Some, finding scandalous the idea that anything might be missing in Christ’s passion, may call for a retranslation. Wiser minds, however, assume that Paul does not mean that there is anything deficient about Christ’s suffering and death. It is only that Christians as part of his body have the opportunity to suffer patiently with him for the benefit of others.
Suffering is multi-dimensional. Physical pain hurts, but it is not necessarily the worse of sufferings. Mental pain – guilt, abandonment, worry – can be more trying. On the cross in the Gospels of Matthew and Mark Jesus suffers both kinds to the limit. The scourging and the nailing were no doubt excruciating, but these inflictions seem to be eclipsed in the picture which these two gospels paint of complete desertion. Everyone taunts Jesus. One commentator says even the offer of wine is meant only to prolong his agony. No friend is at hand to offer support. Jesus even feels the absence of his Father as he cries out, “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?”
None of us escapes the troubles and turmoil of life perhaps aggravated by loneliness and depression. It has always been Catholic to say, “I will offer it up.” The words are not sanctimonious if we keep in mind Jesus on the cross or Paul in prison praying for the communities he evangelized. Accepted patiently and prayerfully, our suffering also may contribute to the salvation of the world.
(Colossians 1-2)
The first reading contains Paul’s mystical pronouncement that he makes up in his own sufferings what is lacking in Christ’s. Some, finding scandalous the idea that anything might be missing in Christ’s passion, may call for a retranslation. Wiser minds, however, assume that Paul does not mean that there is anything deficient about Christ’s suffering and death. It is only that Christians as part of his body have the opportunity to suffer patiently with him for the benefit of others.
Suffering is multi-dimensional. Physical pain hurts, but it is not necessarily the worse of sufferings. Mental pain – guilt, abandonment, worry – can be more trying. On the cross in the Gospels of Matthew and Mark Jesus suffers both kinds to the limit. The scourging and the nailing were no doubt excruciating, but these inflictions seem to be eclipsed in the picture which these two gospels paint of complete desertion. Everyone taunts Jesus. One commentator says even the offer of wine is meant only to prolong his agony. No friend is at hand to offer support. Jesus even feels the absence of his Father as he cries out, “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?”
None of us escapes the troubles and turmoil of life perhaps aggravated by loneliness and depression. It has always been Catholic to say, “I will offer it up.” The words are not sanctimonious if we keep in mind Jesus on the cross or Paul in prison praying for the communities he evangelized. Accepted patiently and prayerfully, our suffering also may contribute to the salvation of the world.
Homilette for Friday, September 7, 2007
Friday, XXII Week of Ordinary Time
(I Colossians)
An icon of Christ hangs in a Benedictine monastery in Oceanside, California. It describes with visual images what the first reading relates with words. Christ is clothed in white like a new-born infant or, more to the point, like one appearing in glory. His wounds are covered with stars to show that he was dead but has come back to life. On the halo surrounding his head are the Greek letters ho on which mean “the (one) being” above all others. He has a compassionate face with eyes that seem to see to the bottom of the soul looking at him. His torso glimpsed by an opening in the white cloth is strong but not overpoweringly arrogant. He poises his right hand to make a blessing or, perhaps, a judgment. His left hand holds a book, obviously the Scriptures, with just one word shown pax (peace), showing that he has reconciled all things to himself. Seated on a throne with a with a blue pedestal indicated royalty, he leaves the impression of ruling over the whole world, especially its largest entity, the Pacific Ocean.
Christ commands our confidence. Sometimes tossed by the vagaries of life we waver in our allegiance. We have to cling to him with steadfast love. Recently writings left by Mother Teresa have revealed that she also was not spared doubts and inner turmoil. Yet she remained loyal to Christ to the end of her life. Each day she rose for meditation at 4:30 a.m. Even in fame and old age she did not cease tending to the needs of the poorest. As already evidenced by miracles in her name, Christ has brought her home to eternal life.
(I Colossians)
An icon of Christ hangs in a Benedictine monastery in Oceanside, California. It describes with visual images what the first reading relates with words. Christ is clothed in white like a new-born infant or, more to the point, like one appearing in glory. His wounds are covered with stars to show that he was dead but has come back to life. On the halo surrounding his head are the Greek letters ho on which mean “the (one) being” above all others. He has a compassionate face with eyes that seem to see to the bottom of the soul looking at him. His torso glimpsed by an opening in the white cloth is strong but not overpoweringly arrogant. He poises his right hand to make a blessing or, perhaps, a judgment. His left hand holds a book, obviously the Scriptures, with just one word shown pax (peace), showing that he has reconciled all things to himself. Seated on a throne with a with a blue pedestal indicated royalty, he leaves the impression of ruling over the whole world, especially its largest entity, the Pacific Ocean.
Christ commands our confidence. Sometimes tossed by the vagaries of life we waver in our allegiance. We have to cling to him with steadfast love. Recently writings left by Mother Teresa have revealed that she also was not spared doubts and inner turmoil. Yet she remained loyal to Christ to the end of her life. Each day she rose for meditation at 4:30 a.m. Even in fame and old age she did not cease tending to the needs of the poorest. As already evidenced by miracles in her name, Christ has brought her home to eternal life.
Homilette for Thursday, September 6, 2007
Thursday, XXII Week of Ordinary Time
(Colossians 1 and Luke 5)
The Scripture readings today use two powerful images for sin. In the Letter to the Colossians sin is darkness which blurs life’s goal. In the Gospel of Luke sin is the depths of the sea which entrap us from proceeding to that goal. In our parish sin keeps two sons from working to assist their mother at home and to support the children that they have engendered.
Jesus has come to deliver us from sin. He is the light to dispel the darkness like an enormous lantern in a lighthouse that guides ships to ports. He is also the director of fishermen who cast nets deep into the sea to bring home food for humans.
Often, however, we have difficulty leaving sinful ways. Peter in the gospel tells the Lord to depart from him. He may just feel unworthy but also he may not want to accept quite yet the grace that will make him worthy. Sinners’ taking responsibility for past actions often means making uncomfortable adjustments in their lives. Imagine the burden of paying child support because of selfish sexual activity that parts of society foolishly see as fun. But such needless worry itself approaches sin. Repenting sin means receiving Christ as our soul companion – a gift worth all the gold and silver submerged at the bottom of the seas.
(Colossians 1 and Luke 5)
The Scripture readings today use two powerful images for sin. In the Letter to the Colossians sin is darkness which blurs life’s goal. In the Gospel of Luke sin is the depths of the sea which entrap us from proceeding to that goal. In our parish sin keeps two sons from working to assist their mother at home and to support the children that they have engendered.
Jesus has come to deliver us from sin. He is the light to dispel the darkness like an enormous lantern in a lighthouse that guides ships to ports. He is also the director of fishermen who cast nets deep into the sea to bring home food for humans.
Often, however, we have difficulty leaving sinful ways. Peter in the gospel tells the Lord to depart from him. He may just feel unworthy but also he may not want to accept quite yet the grace that will make him worthy. Sinners’ taking responsibility for past actions often means making uncomfortable adjustments in their lives. Imagine the burden of paying child support because of selfish sexual activity that parts of society foolishly see as fun. But such needless worry itself approaches sin. Repenting sin means receiving Christ as our soul companion – a gift worth all the gold and silver submerged at the bottom of the seas.
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