Tuesday of the Second Week in Ordinary Time
(I Samuel 13:1-16)
Of all the artists of the Renaissance none, besides perhaps Leonardo da Vinci, characterizes the age better than Michelangelo. And of all Michelangelo’s works none illustrates the spirit of the Renaissance better than his statue of David. Tall, graceful, strong but elegantly reserved Michelangelo’s David glorifies humanity, not above God but as the epitome of God’s creation.
In the first reading the Lord tells Samuel that He does not judge a person by appearances but looks into the heart. For this reason He waits until Samuel presents the young David as a candidate for king of Israel. We can compare fourteenth century Europe to time of the election of David. As Saul shows himself unworthy of kingship under God, Europe was decimated of one third of its population by the Black Death. No doubt, to some the time appeared to be the end for an ignoble humanity. But Michelangelo, representing the insight of the Renaissance in his work, perceived that humanity’s unrelenting spirit would, to paraphrase William Faulkner, not only endure but prevail.
Sometimes in our generation it seems that humanity is up to no good and will suffer a tragic end. Not only do we cheapen ourselves unashamedly with television rot and barbarous music; we also build bombs capable of destroying the human race. With the help of God we too must look to the core of our nature and find the nobility of our humanity. Then we have to renew our civilization once again with that in mind.
Homilette for January 21, 2008
Monday, Memorial of St. Agnes, virgin and martyr
(Mark 2:18-22)
Many people today diet but few seem to fast. They give up food as if they were fasting in order to look better and to feel better. But they would probably ask the opposite of what the disciples of both John and the Pharisees ask Jesus in the gospel today, “Why fast?” Some might answer quickly that we fast to please God? But is God really pleased when we give up food? Those who doubt the value of fasting are fond of citing Isaiah 58 where God tells the Israelites that He is more interested in works of mercy.
But fasting has its purposes which Jesus implicitly recognizes when he says that its time is coming. He also goes on a forty-day fast before beginning his public ministry. Recalling that difficult experience in which the devil sorely tempts Jesus, we also might ask, “Why fast?” The answer is that we fast so that we might know God. God may not be moved by our fasting but fasting makes us aware of His presence. Moses and Elias fast forty days before they receive their respective revelations. Luke’s gospel mentions that the prophetess Anna In the Temple is accustomed to fasting when she tells those who were awaiting a Messiah about the child Jesus.
Forgoing the satisfaction of eating makes us appreciative of the gift of food and all God’s gifts. A simple reflection on the hunger which fasting induces will permit us to see Christ in those who chronically lack food. Finally and most importantly, fasting confirms our commitment to serve God and not ourselves. As St. Agnes gave up her life to demonstrate her commitment to God, we from time to time should give up some food.
(Mark 2:18-22)
Many people today diet but few seem to fast. They give up food as if they were fasting in order to look better and to feel better. But they would probably ask the opposite of what the disciples of both John and the Pharisees ask Jesus in the gospel today, “Why fast?” Some might answer quickly that we fast to please God? But is God really pleased when we give up food? Those who doubt the value of fasting are fond of citing Isaiah 58 where God tells the Israelites that He is more interested in works of mercy.
But fasting has its purposes which Jesus implicitly recognizes when he says that its time is coming. He also goes on a forty-day fast before beginning his public ministry. Recalling that difficult experience in which the devil sorely tempts Jesus, we also might ask, “Why fast?” The answer is that we fast so that we might know God. God may not be moved by our fasting but fasting makes us aware of His presence. Moses and Elias fast forty days before they receive their respective revelations. Luke’s gospel mentions that the prophetess Anna In the Temple is accustomed to fasting when she tells those who were awaiting a Messiah about the child Jesus.
Forgoing the satisfaction of eating makes us appreciative of the gift of food and all God’s gifts. A simple reflection on the hunger which fasting induces will permit us to see Christ in those who chronically lack food. Finally and most importantly, fasting confirms our commitment to serve God and not ourselves. As St. Agnes gave up her life to demonstrate her commitment to God, we from time to time should give up some food.
Homilette for January 18, 2008
Friday of the First Week in Ordinary Time
(I Samuel 8:4-7;10-22a)
The need of a king as the elders of Israel express in the first reading today may sound quaint to us. After all, modern society has gone far beyond government by a single ruler. However, the longing for a monarch signifies a desire implanted deep in every human heart. A king represents security so that the people can both work and rest in peace. Kings theoretically will judge the people fairly because they are endowed with abundant wealth to scorn the lure of bribes. Even more importantly, kings have armies to protect the people from marauders. We may not clamor for kings anymore, but we do seek all the security and more that kings once provided.
God tells Samuel in the reading that the people’s request for a king constitutes a rejection of Himself as their ruler. In pursuing social guarantees are we similarly denying God’s role as our provider? This is not a frivolous question as we see human society developing but devotion to God waning. We can phrase the issue differently for the sake of clarity. In buying health insurance, sending our children to the best schools possible, even getting cellular telephones in case of emergencies, are we putting our trust in human achievement rather than in God's Providence? Certainly, the resources we spend on these measures might be used to provide basic services to the poor as God dictates.
Just as God allows the Israelites to have a king, He can approve of our desire for social securities. Any rejection that He may suffer is the result of our pride not of our prudence. We become proud when we start thinking that we are independent of God, that we can thrive without Him, and that we do not have to heed His ways. Prudent people will always recognize that they are powerless over all contingencies, that God is ultimately in control of their destinies, and that they need to consider others’ welfare as well as their own. Along with striving to secure life’s necessities, people of faith will also kneel to pray for deliverance from evil.
(I Samuel 8:4-7;10-22a)
The need of a king as the elders of Israel express in the first reading today may sound quaint to us. After all, modern society has gone far beyond government by a single ruler. However, the longing for a monarch signifies a desire implanted deep in every human heart. A king represents security so that the people can both work and rest in peace. Kings theoretically will judge the people fairly because they are endowed with abundant wealth to scorn the lure of bribes. Even more importantly, kings have armies to protect the people from marauders. We may not clamor for kings anymore, but we do seek all the security and more that kings once provided.
God tells Samuel in the reading that the people’s request for a king constitutes a rejection of Himself as their ruler. In pursuing social guarantees are we similarly denying God’s role as our provider? This is not a frivolous question as we see human society developing but devotion to God waning. We can phrase the issue differently for the sake of clarity. In buying health insurance, sending our children to the best schools possible, even getting cellular telephones in case of emergencies, are we putting our trust in human achievement rather than in God's Providence? Certainly, the resources we spend on these measures might be used to provide basic services to the poor as God dictates.
Just as God allows the Israelites to have a king, He can approve of our desire for social securities. Any rejection that He may suffer is the result of our pride not of our prudence. We become proud when we start thinking that we are independent of God, that we can thrive without Him, and that we do not have to heed His ways. Prudent people will always recognize that they are powerless over all contingencies, that God is ultimately in control of their destinies, and that they need to consider others’ welfare as well as their own. Along with striving to secure life’s necessities, people of faith will also kneel to pray for deliverance from evil.
Homilette for January 17, 2008
Thursday of the First Week in Ordinary Time, Memorial of St. Anthony, abbot
(Mark 1:40-45)
Fifty years or so ago, a journalist named John Howard Griffin performed a shocking social experiment. He had his skin dyed black and toured the South to see how people would treat him. Predictably, he had trouble finding a public restroom that he could use. In general, wherever white men had easy access, he was treated with suspicion. We might say that the insider became an outsider. Eventually, Griffin published the account of his travails in the book Black Like Me which helped soften white resistance to the American civil rights movement.
In the gospel today we witness a similar event and its reverse. After Jesus cures the leper, his fame as a healer spreads so widely that he cannot any town without being overwhelmed with petitions for healing. He is the insider who becomes an outsider. Ironically, the cured leper who by law had to remain outside populated areas but now can enter any town freely. Thus, the outsider becomes an insider.
St. Anthony takes after Christ in making himself an outsider. He left his family and community to become a hermit in the desert. In a sense this is the vocation of all Christians. We should never get too comfortable in the world. Its many distortions may lure us into sin. Rather, we make ourselves outsiders by an intentional option to love all and to find our treasure in the legacy of Christ.
(Mark 1:40-45)
Fifty years or so ago, a journalist named John Howard Griffin performed a shocking social experiment. He had his skin dyed black and toured the South to see how people would treat him. Predictably, he had trouble finding a public restroom that he could use. In general, wherever white men had easy access, he was treated with suspicion. We might say that the insider became an outsider. Eventually, Griffin published the account of his travails in the book Black Like Me which helped soften white resistance to the American civil rights movement.
In the gospel today we witness a similar event and its reverse. After Jesus cures the leper, his fame as a healer spreads so widely that he cannot any town without being overwhelmed with petitions for healing. He is the insider who becomes an outsider. Ironically, the cured leper who by law had to remain outside populated areas but now can enter any town freely. Thus, the outsider becomes an insider.
St. Anthony takes after Christ in making himself an outsider. He left his family and community to become a hermit in the desert. In a sense this is the vocation of all Christians. We should never get too comfortable in the world. Its many distortions may lure us into sin. Rather, we make ourselves outsiders by an intentional option to love all and to find our treasure in the legacy of Christ.
Homilette for January 16, 2007
Wednesday of the First Week in Ordinary Time
(I Samuel 3:1-10; 19-20, Mark 1:29-39)
The other day on the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord Matthew’s gospel read that “the heavens were opened” for Jesus. The connotation is that such an occurrence did not often happen. In the first reading today we hear again that revelation is extraordinary. The First Book of Samuel relates that “a revelation from the Lord was uncommon and (a) vision infrequent.” If we wonder why God does not speak to us directly in contemporary times, we can console ourselves that people in biblical times probably asked the same question.
The narrative regarding Samuel and Eli begins the story of God’s plan to bring greatness to the people of Israel. Samuel will eventually anoint both Saul and David king. The latter will extend Israel’s fortunes to great heights. But David in all his glory will fail the Lord. He will keep a harem of women, commit adultery, and conspire to kill a noble soldier. The greatness of the kingdom of Israel will eventually dissolve through repeated abandonment of God’s ways.
We might compare the care taken to relate the origins of the kingdom of Israel to those of the evangelists telling of the coming of the kingdom of God. Of course, Jesus figures prominently in the latter story. Matthew and Luke weave the story of Jesus’ birth. They present him as the one who will establish the kingdom of God with such unsurpassable greatness that it will never end. In today’s gospel Mark indicates the makeup of Jesus’ accomplishment. Jesus cures disease and casts out demons – the effects of sin -- and also preaches the good news to all people. Jesus is showing himself is the fulfillment of God’s plan for Israel as well as of our deepest desires.
(I Samuel 3:1-10; 19-20, Mark 1:29-39)
The other day on the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord Matthew’s gospel read that “the heavens were opened” for Jesus. The connotation is that such an occurrence did not often happen. In the first reading today we hear again that revelation is extraordinary. The First Book of Samuel relates that “a revelation from the Lord was uncommon and (a) vision infrequent.” If we wonder why God does not speak to us directly in contemporary times, we can console ourselves that people in biblical times probably asked the same question.
The narrative regarding Samuel and Eli begins the story of God’s plan to bring greatness to the people of Israel. Samuel will eventually anoint both Saul and David king. The latter will extend Israel’s fortunes to great heights. But David in all his glory will fail the Lord. He will keep a harem of women, commit adultery, and conspire to kill a noble soldier. The greatness of the kingdom of Israel will eventually dissolve through repeated abandonment of God’s ways.
We might compare the care taken to relate the origins of the kingdom of Israel to those of the evangelists telling of the coming of the kingdom of God. Of course, Jesus figures prominently in the latter story. Matthew and Luke weave the story of Jesus’ birth. They present him as the one who will establish the kingdom of God with such unsurpassable greatness that it will never end. In today’s gospel Mark indicates the makeup of Jesus’ accomplishment. Jesus cures disease and casts out demons – the effects of sin -- and also preaches the good news to all people. Jesus is showing himself is the fulfillment of God’s plan for Israel as well as of our deepest desires.
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