Friday of the Twenty-fourth Week in Ordinary Time
(Luke 8:1-3)
A famous painting by the French master Georges de La Tour hangs in the National Gallery in Washington, D.C. It shows a loosely-clad woman sitting in front of a looking glass in meditative stupor. She is fingering a skull, which sits in front of, and almost blocks from view, a burning candle. “What’s the point of it all?” she seems to ask herself as she contemplates life and death, herself and Christ, the light.
The painting is called “The Repentant Magdalene” which is probably a misnomer. That title reflects a popular but unfounded belief that Mary Magdalene was a reformed prostitute. Preachers through the ages have concluded that Mary Magdalene, mentioned for the first time in Luke’s gospel today, is “the sinful woman” who bathed Jesus’ feet with her tears of yesterday’s gospel passage. But today’s gospel only identifies her as the woman “from whom seven demons had gone out.” Demon possession in the New Testament is associated with sickness and hysteria, not moral depravity. Mary Magdalene’s relation to the woman of the previous chapter is likely one of inclusion. The evangelist Luke includes the story of the women accompanying Jesus following that of “the sinful woman” to indicate how Jesus attracted different kinds of women as well as men to himself.
But certainly the questions that La Tour’s Magdalene seems to ask are likewise inclusive of all humanity as well. What’s the point of it all? Is our destiny just dry bones that will whither completely in time? Or is Jesus the fire who enlightens our minds today and will empower our resurrection from the dead tomorrow? We Christians know the answers to these questions. Our task is to live their implications in our everyday lives.
Homilette for Thursday, September 18, 2008
Thursday of the Twenty-fourth Week in Ordinary Time
(Luke 7:36-50)
We may think of Jesus as unfriendly toward all Pharisees, but this is not the case. True, he does chastise some, but he also eats with others. He really has a lot in common with Pharisees. Like them Jesus is a layman and learned in the Law. Also like the Pharisees Jesus teaches in synagogues and exerts every effort to live righteously. Nothing should seem peculiar, therefore, in Jesus’ entering a Pharisee’s home in the gospel today.
Simon, the Pharisee, becomes scandalized when Jesus allows a notoriously sinful woman to wash his feet with her tears and dry them with her hair. Although he is too proper to say it out loud, Simon sees Jesus’ indulgence as evidence that he is not a true prophet. A prophet, he thinks, would see into a person’s heart to know whether she or he is worthy. But Jesus shows Simon to be dead wrong with the very criterion that Simon gives of a true prophet. First, he knows the woman’s heart to be repentant and thus receptive of God’s grace. Second, he reads the hypocrisy of Simon’s heart that criticizes too much and loves too little.
Jesus demonstrates God’s mercy as he forgives the woman her sins and enlightens Simon of his. Mercy at times requires fraternal correction as Jesus calls Simon to task for hypocrisy. It also will allow a humble person to express her love as Jesus permits the reformed woman to bathe his feet. We can pray with ever more hope that Jesus will treat us as graciously as he does these two sinners. As church-goers, we are susceptible to the sin of hypocrisy. When we criticize others unjustly, may Christ remind us of the sin that we commit. Then, may he offer us opportunities to show our love for him.
(Luke 7:36-50)
We may think of Jesus as unfriendly toward all Pharisees, but this is not the case. True, he does chastise some, but he also eats with others. He really has a lot in common with Pharisees. Like them Jesus is a layman and learned in the Law. Also like the Pharisees Jesus teaches in synagogues and exerts every effort to live righteously. Nothing should seem peculiar, therefore, in Jesus’ entering a Pharisee’s home in the gospel today.
Simon, the Pharisee, becomes scandalized when Jesus allows a notoriously sinful woman to wash his feet with her tears and dry them with her hair. Although he is too proper to say it out loud, Simon sees Jesus’ indulgence as evidence that he is not a true prophet. A prophet, he thinks, would see into a person’s heart to know whether she or he is worthy. But Jesus shows Simon to be dead wrong with the very criterion that Simon gives of a true prophet. First, he knows the woman’s heart to be repentant and thus receptive of God’s grace. Second, he reads the hypocrisy of Simon’s heart that criticizes too much and loves too little.
Jesus demonstrates God’s mercy as he forgives the woman her sins and enlightens Simon of his. Mercy at times requires fraternal correction as Jesus calls Simon to task for hypocrisy. It also will allow a humble person to express her love as Jesus permits the reformed woman to bathe his feet. We can pray with ever more hope that Jesus will treat us as graciously as he does these two sinners. As church-goers, we are susceptible to the sin of hypocrisy. When we criticize others unjustly, may Christ remind us of the sin that we commit. Then, may he offer us opportunities to show our love for him.
Homilette for Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Wednesday of the Twenty-fourth Week in Ordinary Time
(I Corinthians 12:31-13:13)
A preacher once remarked about the difficulty in preaching about love. He said something like, “The only place we are sure that we know what we are talking about when we talk about ‘love’ is in tennis. And there ‘love’ means ‘nothing at all.’” We might notice how St. Paul suggests the difficulty in speaking about love by not attempting to define it in his famous “hymn to love” that comprises the first reading today. Rather he gives a phenomenological description telling us first the importance of love, then its similarities and dissimilarities, and finally its uniqueness. Let’s examine each of these issues.
St. Thomas Aquinas affirmed that charity or “love of friendship” animates all the other virtues. This means what Paul illustrates in the text. Eloquence and foresight, even faith and generosity will come to nothing if love does not shape their ends. We might say with Sartre that human life is a useless passion, if love did not provide it a transcendent purpose.
We get a glimpse of love’s nature by noting how caring it is of the other person. Love not only concerns itself with the other’s needs (“patient” and “kind”) but also avoids causing the other distress (“not inflated,” “not rude,” etc.). Joseph Pieper defines love as affirmation of another so that one can say, “It’s good that you exist!” This may sound like a weak-kneed definition, but it is meant to be comprehensive and inclusive like Paul with his lists of positive and negative adjectives for love.
Paul never equates God with love like the First Letter of John, but he seems on the verge of this conclusion when he writes that of the three enduring virtues, love is the greatest. Evidently, even in the Beatific Vision there will be need of faith, probably because God is an incomprehensible mystery, always beyond our understanding. We may wonder about the need for hope if in everlasting life the human person has fulfilled her or his goal. In any case, love is certainly the greatest theological virtue because it alone participates in God’s supreme activity.
(I Corinthians 12:31-13:13)
A preacher once remarked about the difficulty in preaching about love. He said something like, “The only place we are sure that we know what we are talking about when we talk about ‘love’ is in tennis. And there ‘love’ means ‘nothing at all.’” We might notice how St. Paul suggests the difficulty in speaking about love by not attempting to define it in his famous “hymn to love” that comprises the first reading today. Rather he gives a phenomenological description telling us first the importance of love, then its similarities and dissimilarities, and finally its uniqueness. Let’s examine each of these issues.
St. Thomas Aquinas affirmed that charity or “love of friendship” animates all the other virtues. This means what Paul illustrates in the text. Eloquence and foresight, even faith and generosity will come to nothing if love does not shape their ends. We might say with Sartre that human life is a useless passion, if love did not provide it a transcendent purpose.
We get a glimpse of love’s nature by noting how caring it is of the other person. Love not only concerns itself with the other’s needs (“patient” and “kind”) but also avoids causing the other distress (“not inflated,” “not rude,” etc.). Joseph Pieper defines love as affirmation of another so that one can say, “It’s good that you exist!” This may sound like a weak-kneed definition, but it is meant to be comprehensive and inclusive like Paul with his lists of positive and negative adjectives for love.
Paul never equates God with love like the First Letter of John, but he seems on the verge of this conclusion when he writes that of the three enduring virtues, love is the greatest. Evidently, even in the Beatific Vision there will be need of faith, probably because God is an incomprehensible mystery, always beyond our understanding. We may wonder about the need for hope if in everlasting life the human person has fulfilled her or his goal. In any case, love is certainly the greatest theological virtue because it alone participates in God’s supreme activity.
Homilette for Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Memorial of Saint Cornelius, pope and martyr, and Saint Cyprian, bishop and martyr
(Luke 7:11-17)
Compassion for the suffering defines part of our humanity. An old proverb tells us, “The young man who will not laugh is a barbarian; the old man who cannot cry is a fool.” We feel for and perhaps cry with people undergoing suffering perhaps because we can see ourselves in such a predicament or because someone dear to us has experienced a similar trial.
In the Gospel of Luke Jesus tells his disciples to be compassionate just as God is compassionate. In the passage today he demonstrates both human and divine compassion. Encountering the heart-rending scene of a widow burying her only son, Jesus first offers her a few words of comfort. Then he raises her son back to life. He not only shows compassion but fulfills the good news he proclaimed earlier, “Blessed are you who are weeping now, for you will laugh.”
Compassion propels us to act. We cannot raise people from the dead as Jesus does in the gospel, but we can utter words of consolation. We might also extend a helping hand if there is need of assistance. The word compassion comes from two Latin words meaning “to suffer with.” But the “passion” part of compassion also indicates a burning desire to see suffering relieved and evil overturned.
(Luke 7:11-17)
Compassion for the suffering defines part of our humanity. An old proverb tells us, “The young man who will not laugh is a barbarian; the old man who cannot cry is a fool.” We feel for and perhaps cry with people undergoing suffering perhaps because we can see ourselves in such a predicament or because someone dear to us has experienced a similar trial.
In the Gospel of Luke Jesus tells his disciples to be compassionate just as God is compassionate. In the passage today he demonstrates both human and divine compassion. Encountering the heart-rending scene of a widow burying her only son, Jesus first offers her a few words of comfort. Then he raises her son back to life. He not only shows compassion but fulfills the good news he proclaimed earlier, “Blessed are you who are weeping now, for you will laugh.”
Compassion propels us to act. We cannot raise people from the dead as Jesus does in the gospel, but we can utter words of consolation. We might also extend a helping hand if there is need of assistance. The word compassion comes from two Latin words meaning “to suffer with.” But the “passion” part of compassion also indicates a burning desire to see suffering relieved and evil overturned.
Homilette for Monday, September 15, 2008
Memorial of Our Lady of Sorrows
(John 19:25-27)
It is tempting to hear these nearly final words of Jesus as an only son’s concern for his widowed mother after he dies. However, the context calls for a different and perhaps richer interpretation. Throughout John’s Gospel, Jesus does not look back to his childhood family but beyond to his divine one. Here we can see him giving his mother to his beloved disciple and his beloved disciple to his mother so that they too might be part of God’s eternal family. Their coming together will initiate the community called Church as they become adopted children of God and heirs of places in the heavenly household. When Jesus expires, John says that he “hand(s) over his spirit.” We may consider his mother and beloved disciple as the recipients of that spirit springing the Church into existence.
Yet Mary is still “the Mother of Sorrows.” Artists never depict this moment of church formation as a happy one. Rather they show Mary with tears in her eyes and, sometimes, John too distressed to show his face. It is not that they, or we in similar moments of loss, are too much part of the world to feel satisfaction. Rather, they have both loved Jesus so long and well that being deprived of his presence breaks their hearts. Nevertheless, Mary and the beloved disciple provide us with a lesson about love. Worthy human love always makes us want to be with the object of our love. Such love (eros in Greek) grows into divine love (agape in Greek or caritas in Latin) when God’s grace enables us to let go of the beloved knowing that He will reunite him or her to us forever.
(John 19:25-27)
It is tempting to hear these nearly final words of Jesus as an only son’s concern for his widowed mother after he dies. However, the context calls for a different and perhaps richer interpretation. Throughout John’s Gospel, Jesus does not look back to his childhood family but beyond to his divine one. Here we can see him giving his mother to his beloved disciple and his beloved disciple to his mother so that they too might be part of God’s eternal family. Their coming together will initiate the community called Church as they become adopted children of God and heirs of places in the heavenly household. When Jesus expires, John says that he “hand(s) over his spirit.” We may consider his mother and beloved disciple as the recipients of that spirit springing the Church into existence.
Yet Mary is still “the Mother of Sorrows.” Artists never depict this moment of church formation as a happy one. Rather they show Mary with tears in her eyes and, sometimes, John too distressed to show his face. It is not that they, or we in similar moments of loss, are too much part of the world to feel satisfaction. Rather, they have both loved Jesus so long and well that being deprived of his presence breaks their hearts. Nevertheless, Mary and the beloved disciple provide us with a lesson about love. Worthy human love always makes us want to be with the object of our love. Such love (eros in Greek) grows into divine love (agape in Greek or caritas in Latin) when God’s grace enables us to let go of the beloved knowing that He will reunite him or her to us forever.
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