Friday of Second Week in Lent
(Genesis 37:3-4.12-13a.17b-28a; Matthew 21:33-43.45-46)
We often see the Joseph of Genesis as a proto-type of Joseph in the New Testament. Both are righteous men; both sojourn in Egypt, and both have dreams. However, pairing the Old Testament reading with the gospel today reveals Joseph as a symbol of Jesus as well. Like Joseph, Jesus is betrayed by his own people, handed over to foreigners, and suffers even though he is completely innocent.
Both the story of Joseph and that of Jesus turns out glorious. Joseph thrives in captivity and Jesus rises from the dead. Each reminds us that howsoever the severity of our suffering, faithfulness to God will end in a blessing.
Homilette for Thursday, March 12, 2009
Thursday of the Second Week in Lent
(Jeremiah 17:5-10; Luke 16:19-31)
“The line between good and evil,” the Russian novelist and humanitarian Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn remarked, “is not drawn between nations or parties, but through every human heart.” We can understand this truth as saying that every one of us has a heart partly corrupted so that it awaits renewal. Executing that renewal is our Lenten project. Similarly, every one has in part a heart palpitating with generosity. Experiencing the growth of that vibrant sector is a source of Easter rejoicing. In the first reading the prophet Jeremiah laments a heart so rotten that it is beyond remedy. In the gospel Jesus gives us an example – the rich man who ignores the beggar at his door.
Certainly the rich man is not punished just for having wealth. That would be like criticizing a healthy person for not taking sick leave. But wealth as well as health has attendant obligations which Pope Paul VI once called a “social mortgage.” The rich must share some of their resources so that the needy not lose their human dignity. Jesus in this Gospel of Luke never tires reminding his disciples of this responsibility.
Donating to the poor carries some risks. A beggar may squander our beneficence on liquor, and even some highly regarded charities have misused contributions. But we must not allow these concerns to trump God’s call to generosity. Prudence indicates who deserves our offerings and how much is appropriate for us to give. Failure to comply with the dictates of prudence may nudge our heart more to the side of corruption.
(Jeremiah 17:5-10; Luke 16:19-31)
“The line between good and evil,” the Russian novelist and humanitarian Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn remarked, “is not drawn between nations or parties, but through every human heart.” We can understand this truth as saying that every one of us has a heart partly corrupted so that it awaits renewal. Executing that renewal is our Lenten project. Similarly, every one has in part a heart palpitating with generosity. Experiencing the growth of that vibrant sector is a source of Easter rejoicing. In the first reading the prophet Jeremiah laments a heart so rotten that it is beyond remedy. In the gospel Jesus gives us an example – the rich man who ignores the beggar at his door.
Certainly the rich man is not punished just for having wealth. That would be like criticizing a healthy person for not taking sick leave. But wealth as well as health has attendant obligations which Pope Paul VI once called a “social mortgage.” The rich must share some of their resources so that the needy not lose their human dignity. Jesus in this Gospel of Luke never tires reminding his disciples of this responsibility.
Donating to the poor carries some risks. A beggar may squander our beneficence on liquor, and even some highly regarded charities have misused contributions. But we must not allow these concerns to trump God’s call to generosity. Prudence indicates who deserves our offerings and how much is appropriate for us to give. Failure to comply with the dictates of prudence may nudge our heart more to the side of corruption.
Homilette for Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Wednesday of the Second Week in Lent
(Matthew 20:17-28)
The great virtuoso violinist Ishak Perlman tells the story of a woman asking him to listen to her son play the violin. When Perlman rather reluctantly agreed, the mother took out a tape recorder and played a cassette. Perlman marveled at the beautiful music. “He sounds just like Ya Ya Haifitz,” Perlman exclaimed. “That is Ya Ya Haifitz,” the mother replied, “and my son plays just like that.”
Children may allow their parents to exaggerate their abilities. Evidently James and John do not mind their mother soliciting Jesus for places ahead of Peter and the rest of the disciples in the coming Kingdom. But the brothers’ hidden self-esteem does not impress Jesus. He is interested in whether they are willing to suffer for the sake of that Kingdom.
Lent is the season for us to get a grip on our pride. Most of us generally think too much of ourselves. Rather than compare ourselves downwards by noting how we may be better than others in this or that, we should compare ourselves with the saints whose devotion we can hardly hope to emulate. Then we will see how exalted self-esteem betrays a firm trust in God and how our depreciation of others indicates a failure to love.
(Matthew 20:17-28)
The great virtuoso violinist Ishak Perlman tells the story of a woman asking him to listen to her son play the violin. When Perlman rather reluctantly agreed, the mother took out a tape recorder and played a cassette. Perlman marveled at the beautiful music. “He sounds just like Ya Ya Haifitz,” Perlman exclaimed. “That is Ya Ya Haifitz,” the mother replied, “and my son plays just like that.”
Children may allow their parents to exaggerate their abilities. Evidently James and John do not mind their mother soliciting Jesus for places ahead of Peter and the rest of the disciples in the coming Kingdom. But the brothers’ hidden self-esteem does not impress Jesus. He is interested in whether they are willing to suffer for the sake of that Kingdom.
Lent is the season for us to get a grip on our pride. Most of us generally think too much of ourselves. Rather than compare ourselves downwards by noting how we may be better than others in this or that, we should compare ourselves with the saints whose devotion we can hardly hope to emulate. Then we will see how exalted self-esteem betrays a firm trust in God and how our depreciation of others indicates a failure to love.
Labels:
Ishak Perlman,
Matthew 20:17-28,
pride,
Ya Ya Haifitz
Homilette for Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Tuesday of the Second Week in Lent
(Isaiah 1:10.16-20; Matthew 23:1-12)
The gospel today should hit church-goers between the eyes. Jesus is criticizing the Pharisees, the religious zealots who give religion a bad name. They are pompous about practicing religion and hardly charitable toward other people. The passage implicitly asks us if we may not be women and men of the Pharisees. Do we like to be seen in church and to gossip about people after Mass? Do we complain intolerantly about other races and religions and turn a blind eye to the serious shortcomings of our own practice of faith? If so, we would be among the biggest of sinners in Jesus’ eyes.
An antidote to Pharisaism is frequent confession. Of course, people who think of themselves as good usually have little felt need of confession. They are like inmates of a prison whom the governor of a large state once visited. When he arrived at the prison, he was besieged with requests for a pardon. Everyone said that there were not guilty of the crime for which they were imprisoned. The governor held an assembly in which he asked if any inmate was justly sent to prison. Only one inmate raised his hand. Then the governor said he was going to pardon that man so that he wouldn’t corrupt all the others.
Most of us sin regularly at least by thoughtlessness and ingratitude. These sins may not be scarlet red but just a sickening pink that should also distress us.
(Isaiah 1:10.16-20; Matthew 23:1-12)
The gospel today should hit church-goers between the eyes. Jesus is criticizing the Pharisees, the religious zealots who give religion a bad name. They are pompous about practicing religion and hardly charitable toward other people. The passage implicitly asks us if we may not be women and men of the Pharisees. Do we like to be seen in church and to gossip about people after Mass? Do we complain intolerantly about other races and religions and turn a blind eye to the serious shortcomings of our own practice of faith? If so, we would be among the biggest of sinners in Jesus’ eyes.
An antidote to Pharisaism is frequent confession. Of course, people who think of themselves as good usually have little felt need of confession. They are like inmates of a prison whom the governor of a large state once visited. When he arrived at the prison, he was besieged with requests for a pardon. Everyone said that there were not guilty of the crime for which they were imprisoned. The governor held an assembly in which he asked if any inmate was justly sent to prison. Only one inmate raised his hand. Then the governor said he was going to pardon that man so that he wouldn’t corrupt all the others.
Most of us sin regularly at least by thoughtlessness and ingratitude. These sins may not be scarlet red but just a sickening pink that should also distress us.
Homilette for Monday, March 9, 2009
Monday of the Second Week in Lent
(Luke 6:36-38)
Three years ago a gunman entered an Amish school near Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and took a number of young girls as hostages. He bound them with plastic ties and half an hour later murdered five of them. He then took his own life.
The violence, of course, disturbed the whole country. But much more remarkable was what happened afterwards. The Amish community, true to their arduous compliance with Scripture, extended forgiveness to the family of the assassin. The widow of the murderer, deeply touched by the community’s charity, later wrote them in open letter, "Your love for our family has helped to provide the healing we so desperately need.”
In the gospel today Jesus calls us to be merciful. It has been pointed out that where in the Gospel of Matthew Jesus calls his disciples to be perfect, Luke shows him emphasizing mercy as if mercy is the perfection of God. When we are called upon to forgive a really serious offense, it certainly seems like a monumental task. As the poet Alexander Pope put it, “To err is human; to forgive divine.”
(Luke 6:36-38)
Three years ago a gunman entered an Amish school near Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and took a number of young girls as hostages. He bound them with plastic ties and half an hour later murdered five of them. He then took his own life.
The violence, of course, disturbed the whole country. But much more remarkable was what happened afterwards. The Amish community, true to their arduous compliance with Scripture, extended forgiveness to the family of the assassin. The widow of the murderer, deeply touched by the community’s charity, later wrote them in open letter, "Your love for our family has helped to provide the healing we so desperately need.”
In the gospel today Jesus calls us to be merciful. It has been pointed out that where in the Gospel of Matthew Jesus calls his disciples to be perfect, Luke shows him emphasizing mercy as if mercy is the perfection of God. When we are called upon to forgive a really serious offense, it certainly seems like a monumental task. As the poet Alexander Pope put it, “To err is human; to forgive divine.”
Labels:
Alexander Pope,
Amish,
forgiveness,
Luke 6:36-38
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)