Monday of the Eleventh Week of Ordinary Time
I Kings 21:1-16
“`Frailty, thy name is woman,’” Hamlet says of his mother Queen Gertrude in Shakespeare’s famous play. Not really. There is certainly nothing frail about Queen Jezebel in the first reading. As her husband King Ahab pouts over not being able to obtain a parcel of land, she devises a scheme to steal it away. Her treachery breaches human law with theft and murder. Then it doubly defies God by having false witnesses swear that they heard poor Naboth curse God. Not frailty but sheer audacity characterizes this dame.
Some may see Jezebel as an archetypal Eve committing the original sin and inducing her husband to likewise offend God. She may also remind us of another Shakespearean female, Lady Macbeth. But we must be careful not to attribute evil to women as if they are not frail but singularly malicious. That does not seem to be the Bible’s perspective as both Adam and Eve together share the forbidden fruit. Likewise, Macbeth is capable of outrage acting alone. Nor does it bear out in contemporary experience where, if anything, masculine crime is more heinous and pervasive. What sin always demonstrates, however, is the human need of redemption. Somehow both men and women must be freed from the burden of guilt attached to their crimes.
“...all have sinned and are deprived of the glory of God. They are justified freely by his grace through the redemption in Christ Jesus...,” declares St. Paul in the Letter to the Romans. Christ has freed Jews and Greeks, men and women from the guilt which holds them in sin like a car stuck in mud. We celebrate this redemption now in this Eucharist. Right here he frees us from our wanton desires to possess and to dominate like Ahab and Jezebel.
Homilette for Friday, June 13, 2008
Memorial of Saint Anthony of Padua, priest and doctor of the Church
(I Kings 19:9a, 11-16)
The “tiny, whispering sound” conveying the presence of the Lord to Elijah is better translated the “sound of silence.” God visits him, as He does each of us, in the silent chamber of conscience where He tempers our pride and chastises our sloth.
The Lord’s question of Elijah, “Why are you here?” is both rhetorical and accusatory. God knows well that Elijah has chosen to run away from his responsibilities as prophet. Elijah must speak the word of God in order to turn the people’s hearts back to God. But the prophet only complains about his lot: the people have abandoned God, they have killed God’s messengers, and they are presently hunting down Elijah himself. God, however, does not condemn Elijah for irresponsibility and endless complaints. He only re-commissions Elijah to carry out His will.
Sometimes we feel discouraged like Elijah. Nothing seems to go right despite our efforts to please God. We too complain about our situation and perhaps become cynical about possibilities for its improvement. A generation ago Henry Nouwen wrote a pamphlet “From Resentment to Gratitude” which explored these feelings of frustration and anger that pervade contemporary life. As an antidote, Nouwen prescribes humbly refocusing our perspective. He writes that we must see “that our life is not an inalienable property to be defended but a gift to be shared.” Recognizing life for the gift that it is, we can leave behind our pouting to do God’s will.
(I Kings 19:9a, 11-16)
The “tiny, whispering sound” conveying the presence of the Lord to Elijah is better translated the “sound of silence.” God visits him, as He does each of us, in the silent chamber of conscience where He tempers our pride and chastises our sloth.
The Lord’s question of Elijah, “Why are you here?” is both rhetorical and accusatory. God knows well that Elijah has chosen to run away from his responsibilities as prophet. Elijah must speak the word of God in order to turn the people’s hearts back to God. But the prophet only complains about his lot: the people have abandoned God, they have killed God’s messengers, and they are presently hunting down Elijah himself. God, however, does not condemn Elijah for irresponsibility and endless complaints. He only re-commissions Elijah to carry out His will.
Sometimes we feel discouraged like Elijah. Nothing seems to go right despite our efforts to please God. We too complain about our situation and perhaps become cynical about possibilities for its improvement. A generation ago Henry Nouwen wrote a pamphlet “From Resentment to Gratitude” which explored these feelings of frustration and anger that pervade contemporary life. As an antidote, Nouwen prescribes humbly refocusing our perspective. He writes that we must see “that our life is not an inalienable property to be defended but a gift to be shared.” Recognizing life for the gift that it is, we can leave behind our pouting to do God’s will.
Homilette for Thursday, June 12, 2008
Thursday of the Tenth Week of Ordinary Time
(Matthew 5:20-26)
In his book Blood Brothers Elias Chacour, the archbishop of Galilee in the Melkite Greek Catholic Church, tells of a reconciliation he catalyzed as the pastor of a small Palestinian town. The parish was riddled with factions. Families as well as the community were divided. The young pastor, Fr. Elias, decided to force the situation. At the end of Mass on Palm Sunday, 1967, he hastened to the back of the small church and locked the door. Then he announced that no one would leave until they forgave one another. He said that they were not Christians simply because they sat in church. He told them that they allowed the body of Christ to be disgraced. Shocked by the demand, perhaps insulted by the charge, not knowing what to do, the people just stood there. The pastor began to sweat. He could hear the gait of a mule outside and may have thought himself as dumb as the animal. Then a man, the police constable of the town, spoke up. He said that he was the biggest sinner of all for hating his own brothers. He apologized to everyone. Then he went to his brothers who rushed out of their pews to him – all asking mutual forgiveness. Fr. Elias writes, “Within an instant the church was a chaos of embracing and repentance.
Jesus commands such repentance from the heart in the gospel today. Of course, when he says “brother,” he does not mean only blood brothers and sisters but everyone created in the image of God, the Father. Critical to note as well, Jesus is not seeking here forgiveness of others when they offend us. No, he is asking us to recognize our offenses and ask pardon of others. Too often, we become stuck on how others have hurt us.
In the Sermon on the Mount, from which, of course, this gospel passage is extracted, Jesus makes great demands on his followers. We wonder if we can meet them. We need to remember that Jesus provides his Holy Spirit to shore up our weakness to pursue what is difficult. As Pope Benedict has said, “Do not be afraid of Christ! He takes away nothing and gives everything.”
(Matthew 5:20-26)
In his book Blood Brothers Elias Chacour, the archbishop of Galilee in the Melkite Greek Catholic Church, tells of a reconciliation he catalyzed as the pastor of a small Palestinian town. The parish was riddled with factions. Families as well as the community were divided. The young pastor, Fr. Elias, decided to force the situation. At the end of Mass on Palm Sunday, 1967, he hastened to the back of the small church and locked the door. Then he announced that no one would leave until they forgave one another. He said that they were not Christians simply because they sat in church. He told them that they allowed the body of Christ to be disgraced. Shocked by the demand, perhaps insulted by the charge, not knowing what to do, the people just stood there. The pastor began to sweat. He could hear the gait of a mule outside and may have thought himself as dumb as the animal. Then a man, the police constable of the town, spoke up. He said that he was the biggest sinner of all for hating his own brothers. He apologized to everyone. Then he went to his brothers who rushed out of their pews to him – all asking mutual forgiveness. Fr. Elias writes, “Within an instant the church was a chaos of embracing and repentance.
Jesus commands such repentance from the heart in the gospel today. Of course, when he says “brother,” he does not mean only blood brothers and sisters but everyone created in the image of God, the Father. Critical to note as well, Jesus is not seeking here forgiveness of others when they offend us. No, he is asking us to recognize our offenses and ask pardon of others. Too often, we become stuck on how others have hurt us.
In the Sermon on the Mount, from which, of course, this gospel passage is extracted, Jesus makes great demands on his followers. We wonder if we can meet them. We need to remember that Jesus provides his Holy Spirit to shore up our weakness to pursue what is difficult. As Pope Benedict has said, “Do not be afraid of Christ! He takes away nothing and gives everything.”
Homilette for Wednesday, June 11, 2008
The Memorial of St. Barnabas, apostle
(Matthew 5:17-19)
Not only in the United States but throughout the world, people worry about illegal immigration. It is perhaps the leading law-and-order issue of the decade. Some argue that undocumented immigrants flout the law not just by crossing borders or overstaying visas but also by taking jobs and exploiting social services. On the other side of the debate, immigrants’ defenders point out that often they provide critical services and relieve third-world poverty by sending some earnings home. We can see Jesus addressing the question, albeit obliquely, in the gospel today when he speaks about the permanency of the Law.
Of course, Jesus has the Mosaic Law in mind when he says that “...until heaven and earth pass away, not the smallest letter or the smallest part of a letter will pass from the law, until all things have taken place.” But it seems appropriate to apply the statement to the immigration debate since all laws to the extent that they are just participate in God’s eternal law. What Jesus means by the smallest part of the law is clear, but what does he mean by “all things have taken place”? He is not referring literally to the end of the world but to his cross and resurrection when the old world with its sense of a distant heaven passed away and the Kingdom of God was firmly established. The statement therefore implies the need to reassess immigration laws in light of the same cross and resurrection.
Barnabas may not have been able to appreciate all that Jesus means in this gospel passage, at least to the extent that Paul did. He certainly possessed some virtue as he is the same Barnabas whom Acts praises for selling his land and handing all the proceeds to the apostolic community. Yet he sides with the Jewish-Christians who demanded that pagan converts in Antioch follow the Mosaic dietary laws. Of course, Paul’s sense that the new dispensation abrogated dietary laws eventually proved to be what God intends. Similarly, American bishops see as just some of the claims to legitimacy of undocumented immigrants in American society.
(Matthew 5:17-19)
Not only in the United States but throughout the world, people worry about illegal immigration. It is perhaps the leading law-and-order issue of the decade. Some argue that undocumented immigrants flout the law not just by crossing borders or overstaying visas but also by taking jobs and exploiting social services. On the other side of the debate, immigrants’ defenders point out that often they provide critical services and relieve third-world poverty by sending some earnings home. We can see Jesus addressing the question, albeit obliquely, in the gospel today when he speaks about the permanency of the Law.
Of course, Jesus has the Mosaic Law in mind when he says that “...until heaven and earth pass away, not the smallest letter or the smallest part of a letter will pass from the law, until all things have taken place.” But it seems appropriate to apply the statement to the immigration debate since all laws to the extent that they are just participate in God’s eternal law. What Jesus means by the smallest part of the law is clear, but what does he mean by “all things have taken place”? He is not referring literally to the end of the world but to his cross and resurrection when the old world with its sense of a distant heaven passed away and the Kingdom of God was firmly established. The statement therefore implies the need to reassess immigration laws in light of the same cross and resurrection.
Barnabas may not have been able to appreciate all that Jesus means in this gospel passage, at least to the extent that Paul did. He certainly possessed some virtue as he is the same Barnabas whom Acts praises for selling his land and handing all the proceeds to the apostolic community. Yet he sides with the Jewish-Christians who demanded that pagan converts in Antioch follow the Mosaic dietary laws. Of course, Paul’s sense that the new dispensation abrogated dietary laws eventually proved to be what God intends. Similarly, American bishops see as just some of the claims to legitimacy of undocumented immigrants in American society.
Homilette for Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Tuesday of the Tenth Week of Ordinary Time
(I Kings 17:7-16; Matthew 5:13-16)
Some people may knock the word of God as hot air. But how can Americans deny its value? In a famous address Governor John Winthrop used an image from the gospel today to describe his hopes for the Massachusetts Bay Colony. He said that the community should be like a “city on a hill” whose justice would be an example to all. In time America, thinking of itself – at its best moments -- in this way, would lead the world in liberty and justice. In the nineteenth century President Abraham Lincoln continually referred to the word of God in articulating his policies of abolition of slavery and reconciliation of enemies. Within the memory of many alive today the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., relied on the word of God to shape and establish a vision of human dignity and racial harmony.
The first reading today demonstrates the power of the word of God. Elijah acts on its demanding instructions. Because of its proven efficacy he can confidently tell the pagan widow of Zarephath not to fear as she exhausts her provisions feeding him. Finally, the word’s bounty provides for the woman’s continued need of food during draught.
As much as Elijah and the widow of Zarephath, we can rely on the word of God in our personal lives. We find wisdom and consolation in Scripture. Even more significantly, we ground our beings in its Eucharistic incarnation. Its shapes our thoughts and enlivens our actions so that we become, as Jesus recommends, virtual salt and light to the world. As salt we make life for others worth living; as light we show them the way to God’s Kingdom.
(I Kings 17:7-16; Matthew 5:13-16)
Some people may knock the word of God as hot air. But how can Americans deny its value? In a famous address Governor John Winthrop used an image from the gospel today to describe his hopes for the Massachusetts Bay Colony. He said that the community should be like a “city on a hill” whose justice would be an example to all. In time America, thinking of itself – at its best moments -- in this way, would lead the world in liberty and justice. In the nineteenth century President Abraham Lincoln continually referred to the word of God in articulating his policies of abolition of slavery and reconciliation of enemies. Within the memory of many alive today the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., relied on the word of God to shape and establish a vision of human dignity and racial harmony.
The first reading today demonstrates the power of the word of God. Elijah acts on its demanding instructions. Because of its proven efficacy he can confidently tell the pagan widow of Zarephath not to fear as she exhausts her provisions feeding him. Finally, the word’s bounty provides for the woman’s continued need of food during draught.
As much as Elijah and the widow of Zarephath, we can rely on the word of God in our personal lives. We find wisdom and consolation in Scripture. Even more significantly, we ground our beings in its Eucharistic incarnation. Its shapes our thoughts and enlivens our actions so that we become, as Jesus recommends, virtual salt and light to the world. As salt we make life for others worth living; as light we show them the way to God’s Kingdom.
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