Wednesday of the Fourteenth Week in Ordinary Time
(Genesis 41:55-57.42:5-7a.17-24a; Matthew 10:1-7)
Matthew begins his gospel with a list of names tracing the lineage of Jesus. He starts with Abraham, the exemplar of faith, and ends with Jesus, the savior of the world. He mentions only a few women in the line because they lived in extraordinary circumstances – like Rahab and Ruth, both foreigners who become heroines as well as ancestors of Jesus. Reading the lineage, we get the idea that God is directing the process that will eventuate in the birth of His son.
In today’s gospel Matthew provides another list of names. In a way these men compose a counter to those of the previous list. As the Old Testament figures lead up to Jesus, they will carry Jesus’ name to the world as his apostles. In another sense, however, they are similar to the Jesus’ ancestors. They seem to be an extraordinarily unlikely group to carry out the work of growing an institution. Once again we have a sense of God directing the process.
We should see ourselves as part of still another list of people connected to Jesus with similarities to the ones already mentioned. As the first group comprised Jesus’ ancestors, we are his spiritual descendants. And like the apostles we are called by Jesus to give growth to the Church by caring for one another and by professing Jesus’ name wherever we go.
Homilette for Tuesday, July 7, 2008
Tuesday of the Fourteenth Week in Ordinary time
(Genesis 32:23-33; Matthew 9:32-38)
Today’s episode of the saga of Jacob takes place at least twenty years after his famous dream that was reported yesterday. In this long interval Jacob has acquired two wives and twelve children. He has become rich by hard work, skill, and cunning, but not through noticeable reliance on God. As he returns to his father’s land and to his probably vengeful brother Esau, a man attacks him. The two wrestle all night with neither actually prevailing. Then the assailant, in a hurry to leave, strikes Jacob at his hip which will bring about a limp. Still Jacob holds on tenaciously to make a bargain with his opponent. He will release him only if the man returns the favor with a blessing. The man gives Jacob a new name suggestive of his new stature. From now on he is no longer Jacob, a name which means heel catcher because he was born holding his twin brother Esau’s heel, but Israel, a name indicating that he has struggled with God and prevailed.
What are we to make of all this? For most of his life to this point Jacob has ignored God. As he is about to encounter his brother Esau, however, God throws Himself on Jacob in an act of saving grace. Jacob is forced to struggle with God, who mercifully does not destroy him but leaves him limping as a constant reminder of Jacob’s dependence. The incident changes Jacob’s life entirely. He is no longer defined by Esau, but by God whom he comes to acknowledge as Lord.
Perhaps we in our doubts and fears also struggle with God. It may be that out of love for God we always try to accommodate others. “Why,” we ask, “is it always I who must give in?” Yes, we are a bit jaded by the experience of forever making ourselves available. But we are also left closer to God who, we can be sure, has bestowed on us His blessing.
(Genesis 32:23-33; Matthew 9:32-38)
Today’s episode of the saga of Jacob takes place at least twenty years after his famous dream that was reported yesterday. In this long interval Jacob has acquired two wives and twelve children. He has become rich by hard work, skill, and cunning, but not through noticeable reliance on God. As he returns to his father’s land and to his probably vengeful brother Esau, a man attacks him. The two wrestle all night with neither actually prevailing. Then the assailant, in a hurry to leave, strikes Jacob at his hip which will bring about a limp. Still Jacob holds on tenaciously to make a bargain with his opponent. He will release him only if the man returns the favor with a blessing. The man gives Jacob a new name suggestive of his new stature. From now on he is no longer Jacob, a name which means heel catcher because he was born holding his twin brother Esau’s heel, but Israel, a name indicating that he has struggled with God and prevailed.
What are we to make of all this? For most of his life to this point Jacob has ignored God. As he is about to encounter his brother Esau, however, God throws Himself on Jacob in an act of saving grace. Jacob is forced to struggle with God, who mercifully does not destroy him but leaves him limping as a constant reminder of Jacob’s dependence. The incident changes Jacob’s life entirely. He is no longer defined by Esau, but by God whom he comes to acknowledge as Lord.
Perhaps we in our doubts and fears also struggle with God. It may be that out of love for God we always try to accommodate others. “Why,” we ask, “is it always I who must give in?” Yes, we are a bit jaded by the experience of forever making ourselves available. But we are also left closer to God who, we can be sure, has bestowed on us His blessing.
Homilette for Monday, July 6, 2009
Monday of the Fourteenth Week in Ordinary Time
(Genesis 28:10-22a; Matthew 9:18-26)
Jacob displays the character of most young people throughout time. He is obviously self-centered for he has just stolen the birthright of his older brother. He goes off seeking adventure although, to be sure, an angry Esau provides more than enough motive for him to leave home with all possible speed. He is also taken up by experience as he describes the site of his dream, in peculiarly contemporary fashion, as “awesome.” And he is reluctant to commit himself making a vow to God only with conditions. What more might be said of Jacob?
We have to say that he has much to learn about life. In growing up we come to understand that the world does not revolve around us. In fact, other people have needs that not only are different from ours but also, at times, we must attend to. Also we have to learn that God remains as the one whose commands we are to heed most. Pope Benedict XVI tells a story about himself that illustrates this lesson. Right after being ordained to the priesthood, he returned to his hometown in Bavaria for his first mass. The townspeople prepared elaborate festivities for their simple faith stood them in awe that one of their own could now turn bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ. The young Fr. Ratzinger had to remind himself continually as he was receiving royal treatment, “This is not about you, Joseph. This is not about you.”
(Genesis 28:10-22a; Matthew 9:18-26)
Jacob displays the character of most young people throughout time. He is obviously self-centered for he has just stolen the birthright of his older brother. He goes off seeking adventure although, to be sure, an angry Esau provides more than enough motive for him to leave home with all possible speed. He is also taken up by experience as he describes the site of his dream, in peculiarly contemporary fashion, as “awesome.” And he is reluctant to commit himself making a vow to God only with conditions. What more might be said of Jacob?
We have to say that he has much to learn about life. In growing up we come to understand that the world does not revolve around us. In fact, other people have needs that not only are different from ours but also, at times, we must attend to. Also we have to learn that God remains as the one whose commands we are to heed most. Pope Benedict XVI tells a story about himself that illustrates this lesson. Right after being ordained to the priesthood, he returned to his hometown in Bavaria for his first mass. The townspeople prepared elaborate festivities for their simple faith stood them in awe that one of their own could now turn bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ. The young Fr. Ratzinger had to remind himself continually as he was receiving royal treatment, “This is not about you, Joseph. This is not about you.”
Homilette for Friday, July 3, 2009
Feast of St. Thomas, Apostle
(Ephesians 2:19-22; John 20:24-29)
Like Thomas some of us might question the resurrection of Jesus. We might speculate that life would be simply neater if death were the end of our existence. We could then set forth our own goals in life – be they making a million dollars, helping the poor, or raising a family – without having to consider the knottier question of whether we are working for salvation by assenting to the promptings of the Holy Spirit.
The gospel today, however, asserts unreservedly that Jesus rose from the dead. He appears not only to those inclined to believe but to a man who gives no credibility at all to the word of witnesses and insists on touching the wounds of the crucified before acknowledging him as alive. This skeptical empiricist, of course, then turns into the person who makes the boldest claim of faith in all the gospels. Thomas’ final words, “My Lord and my God,” are always taken to mean that Jesus is not only God’s son, whatever that means, but God himself!
Of course, we can deny the historicity of Jesus’ appearance to Thomas. We can say that this is just a pious story fabricated to get simple people to believe. But does not such a stance deny our experience? There is plenty of evidence to show that people of faith live fuller, happier lives facing hardship with less turmoil and recovering from setback more resiliently. Likewise, when we call upon the resurrected Jesus, “My Lord and my God,” we experience the assurance of his guiding hand.
(Ephesians 2:19-22; John 20:24-29)
Like Thomas some of us might question the resurrection of Jesus. We might speculate that life would be simply neater if death were the end of our existence. We could then set forth our own goals in life – be they making a million dollars, helping the poor, or raising a family – without having to consider the knottier question of whether we are working for salvation by assenting to the promptings of the Holy Spirit.
The gospel today, however, asserts unreservedly that Jesus rose from the dead. He appears not only to those inclined to believe but to a man who gives no credibility at all to the word of witnesses and insists on touching the wounds of the crucified before acknowledging him as alive. This skeptical empiricist, of course, then turns into the person who makes the boldest claim of faith in all the gospels. Thomas’ final words, “My Lord and my God,” are always taken to mean that Jesus is not only God’s son, whatever that means, but God himself!
Of course, we can deny the historicity of Jesus’ appearance to Thomas. We can say that this is just a pious story fabricated to get simple people to believe. But does not such a stance deny our experience? There is plenty of evidence to show that people of faith live fuller, happier lives facing hardship with less turmoil and recovering from setback more resiliently. Likewise, when we call upon the resurrected Jesus, “My Lord and my God,” we experience the assurance of his guiding hand.
Homilette for Thursday, July 2, 2009
Thursday of the Thirteenth Week in Ordinary Time
(Genesis 22:1b-19; Matthew 9:1-8)
In considering the story of Abraham being called to slay his beloved son Isaac, we cannot help but being horrified by the proposal. It seems preposterous for God to suggest that anyone take an innocent life because He has written on our hearts an injunction against it. Natural law tells us that murder is wrong and therefore murdering one’s own offspring is especially abominable. We accept the story as revelation but are forced to question, not unlike those who ponder how God might permit a tsunami killing hundreds of thousands of people or a dictatorial regime taking a hundred times that number, the benevolence of such a God.
Of course, the text says from the beginning that God is testing Abraham. Tests are by nature hypothetical. They do not mean everything they say. In true or false tests, for example, not every statement of the tester is true. Does this mean that she lies? Tests, we should acknowledge, are at least as much a stimulus to learning as they are a tool of evaluation. In fact, in the long run we are probably more likely to recall a wrong answer on a test than a correct one.
The crucial lesson in Abraham’s test is that he, and by extension we, must subordinate ourselves completely to God. We are not the most important person even, in our own small universe; He is. If Abraham is ever to father a truly great nation, he and his descendants must learn that national interest does not trump justice, that one’s leisure should not take preclude the obligation to worship, and that one’s concern for family is not a reason for denying the poor outside one’s door. Question God’s reasons if we must, but always render Him sovereignty over our lives!
(Genesis 22:1b-19; Matthew 9:1-8)
In considering the story of Abraham being called to slay his beloved son Isaac, we cannot help but being horrified by the proposal. It seems preposterous for God to suggest that anyone take an innocent life because He has written on our hearts an injunction against it. Natural law tells us that murder is wrong and therefore murdering one’s own offspring is especially abominable. We accept the story as revelation but are forced to question, not unlike those who ponder how God might permit a tsunami killing hundreds of thousands of people or a dictatorial regime taking a hundred times that number, the benevolence of such a God.
Of course, the text says from the beginning that God is testing Abraham. Tests are by nature hypothetical. They do not mean everything they say. In true or false tests, for example, not every statement of the tester is true. Does this mean that she lies? Tests, we should acknowledge, are at least as much a stimulus to learning as they are a tool of evaluation. In fact, in the long run we are probably more likely to recall a wrong answer on a test than a correct one.
The crucial lesson in Abraham’s test is that he, and by extension we, must subordinate ourselves completely to God. We are not the most important person even, in our own small universe; He is. If Abraham is ever to father a truly great nation, he and his descendants must learn that national interest does not trump justice, that one’s leisure should not take preclude the obligation to worship, and that one’s concern for family is not a reason for denying the poor outside one’s door. Question God’s reasons if we must, but always render Him sovereignty over our lives!
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