Tuesday of the Third Week in Lent
(Daniel 3:25.34-43; Matthew 18:21-35)
There is a problem implied in Jesus’ parable. If one is to forgive continually, then what should be done if the servant who, after being forgiven his debt, then demanding immediate repayment of his fellow servant, and finally being reprimanded by his master for insincerity, were to ask for forgiveness again? Should he not be pardoned?
Obviously, Jesus would not agree. Forgiveness turns on the genuineness of the guilty party’s contrition. The servant shows that his original petition is insincere since in a similar case with roles reversed, he refuses to show mercy. The commandment to forgive “seventy-seven times” applies when the offender really intends to change his or her ways. If the request for forgiveness merely simulates contrition, one would be foolish to honor it.
We sometimes worry about the sincerity of our own intentions when we find ourselves confessing the same sins every time we go to Confession. Does God forgive us? We must never underestimate God’s mercy. It is more abundant that the grains of sand on a seashore. But God is also implicitly discerning. He reads human hearts with infinitely greater perspicacity than a copy editor reads text. He knows when we really intend to change our ways. But He also knows that bad habits are difficult to break and allows us plenty of opportunities to mend our ways.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Monday of the Third Week in Lent
II Kings 5:1-15ab; Luke 4:24-30)
A number of years ago people played “Catholic Trivia.” Those with eight, twelve, or even sixteen years of Catholic education excelled in the game. They were capable of rattling off the gifts of the Holy Spirit or giving the numbers for the various kinds of books in the Bible. But were they any closer to salvation than others?
Although it is fair to say that we hope so, it is only wise to admit that some with this sort of familiarity with things religious may be far from God. Jesus is making a similar point in the gospel today. His townspeople think that they know him because they remember his manners as a boy. But their very closeness to him, as if they stood at his back, impedes them from recognizing him as Lord.
Theologians make the distinction between knowing about God and knowing God. The first kind of knowledge may be interesting and even helpful, but it is the second kind that brings us to life’s goal. We know God not primarily by taking trips to the Holy Land or memorizing the Catechism. No, first and foremost, we know Him by following His way of love.
II Kings 5:1-15ab; Luke 4:24-30)
A number of years ago people played “Catholic Trivia.” Those with eight, twelve, or even sixteen years of Catholic education excelled in the game. They were capable of rattling off the gifts of the Holy Spirit or giving the numbers for the various kinds of books in the Bible. But were they any closer to salvation than others?
Although it is fair to say that we hope so, it is only wise to admit that some with this sort of familiarity with things religious may be far from God. Jesus is making a similar point in the gospel today. His townspeople think that they know him because they remember his manners as a boy. But their very closeness to him, as if they stood at his back, impedes them from recognizing him as Lord.
Theologians make the distinction between knowing about God and knowing God. The first kind of knowledge may be interesting and even helpful, but it is the second kind that brings us to life’s goal. We know God not primarily by taking trips to the Holy Land or memorizing the Catechism. No, first and foremost, we know Him by following His way of love.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Solemnity of the Annunciation of the Lord
(Isaiah 7:10-14.8:10; Hebrews 10:4-11; Luke 1:26-38)
A Catholic pro-life activist had an inspiration. In order to raise funds for the diocesan Respect for Life Office he would organize a banquet. The celebration would take place on March 25, the Solemnity of the Annunciation. His reason for having it today, of course, is that Jesus literally becomes human at the moment of his conception which the Church considers as happening when Mary assents to the angel’s pronouncement.
As important as the Annunciation is to pro-life activities, its deeper significance lies in another realm. In becoming human, God relates to humans in a new way never heard of before or since. He puts Himself in touch with us as one who shares every aspect of our life. We see Him, hear Him, touch Him, and smell Him. To be sure, He is still beyond us but we have incredibly intimate sensations of what He is like. It is like the movie a dozen years ago shot completely from the hospital patient’s perspective. Seeing it, one has a much better idea of what it means to be hospitalized.
As Christmas has turned into a beehive of commercial activity, we may take time today to contemplate the mystery of the Incarnation. We want to ponder how Christ’s humanity has affected us personally and how it has changed the world. We will likely come to the realization that we resist it having a very great effect. If so, we want to ask God to open us to His singular offer of everlasting life.
(Isaiah 7:10-14.8:10; Hebrews 10:4-11; Luke 1:26-38)
A Catholic pro-life activist had an inspiration. In order to raise funds for the diocesan Respect for Life Office he would organize a banquet. The celebration would take place on March 25, the Solemnity of the Annunciation. His reason for having it today, of course, is that Jesus literally becomes human at the moment of his conception which the Church considers as happening when Mary assents to the angel’s pronouncement.
As important as the Annunciation is to pro-life activities, its deeper significance lies in another realm. In becoming human, God relates to humans in a new way never heard of before or since. He puts Himself in touch with us as one who shares every aspect of our life. We see Him, hear Him, touch Him, and smell Him. To be sure, He is still beyond us but we have incredibly intimate sensations of what He is like. It is like the movie a dozen years ago shot completely from the hospital patient’s perspective. Seeing it, one has a much better idea of what it means to be hospitalized.
As Christmas has turned into a beehive of commercial activity, we may take time today to contemplate the mystery of the Incarnation. We want to ponder how Christ’s humanity has affected us personally and how it has changed the world. We will likely come to the realization that we resist it having a very great effect. If so, we want to ask God to open us to His singular offer of everlasting life.
Thursday of the Second Week in Ordinary Time
Thursday of the Second Week in Lent
(Jeremiah 17:5-10; Luke 16:19-31)
“Richard Corey” is a tragic poem about a man with a heart like a dry peach stone. Although he is much admired, Corey is still unable to show any compassion. In the end he kills himself because he cannot form loving relationships. In the first reading the prophet Jeremiah laments such a malignant heart. 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 chastising a healthy person for taking a hike. 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 drugs, and even some highly regarded charities have misused contributions. But we must not allow these concerns to override God’s call to generosity. Prudence indicates who deserves our offerings and how much is appropriate to give. Failure to comply with its dictates will bring about our heart’s malignancy.
(Jeremiah 17:5-10; Luke 16:19-31)
“Richard Corey” is a tragic poem about a man with a heart like a dry peach stone. Although he is much admired, Corey is still unable to show any compassion. In the end he kills himself because he cannot form loving relationships. In the first reading the prophet Jeremiah laments such a malignant heart. 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 chastising a healthy person for taking a hike. 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 drugs, and even some highly regarded charities have misused contributions. But we must not allow these concerns to override God’s call to generosity. Prudence indicates who deserves our offerings and how much is appropriate to give. Failure to comply with its dictates will bring about our heart’s malignancy.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Memorial of Saint Toribio of Mogrovejo, bishop
(Jeremiah 18:18-20; Matthew 20:17-28)
We humans usually do what we do for mixed reasons. We come to mass on Sunday perhaps because we love God but also because we want to be seen by our neighbors and because it is such an ingrained habit that we have no real alternatives.
The gospel today urges us to clean up our act. Let your first and foremost motive always be love of God, it tells us as Jesus admonishes his disciples that they are to serve others and not themselves. In truth, we should avoid the limelight to insure the purity of our motives. This may mean that we make anonymous donations or that we refrain from talking about our good deeds.
Today the church in Peru celebrates her illustrious patron, St. Toribio of Mogrovejo. As a layman in Spain, he was chosen as Archbishop of Lima. At first, he protested the irregularity, but later conceded. At his post, he urged colonists and probably the indigenous as well to conform themselves to Christ not to their worldly ways. He would tell them, “Christ said, ‘I am the truth’; he did not say, ‘I am the custom.’” Just so we must rid ourselves of the custom of self-seeking as we do God’s will.
(Jeremiah 18:18-20; Matthew 20:17-28)
We humans usually do what we do for mixed reasons. We come to mass on Sunday perhaps because we love God but also because we want to be seen by our neighbors and because it is such an ingrained habit that we have no real alternatives.
The gospel today urges us to clean up our act. Let your first and foremost motive always be love of God, it tells us as Jesus admonishes his disciples that they are to serve others and not themselves. In truth, we should avoid the limelight to insure the purity of our motives. This may mean that we make anonymous donations or that we refrain from talking about our good deeds.
Today the church in Peru celebrates her illustrious patron, St. Toribio of Mogrovejo. As a layman in Spain, he was chosen as Archbishop of Lima. At first, he protested the irregularity, but later conceded. At his post, he urged colonists and probably the indigenous as well to conform themselves to Christ not to their worldly ways. He would tell them, “Christ said, ‘I am the truth’; he did not say, ‘I am the custom.’” Just so we must rid ourselves of the custom of self-seeking as we do God’s will.
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