Tuesday, Memorial of Saint Maximilian Mary Kolbe, priest and martyr
(Matthew 18)
Pope Benedict has recently opened the possibilities of using the Tridentine Mass form. Many Catholics today still remember it as the way they attended Mass in their youth. Of course, the language of the Tridentine Mass is Latin, and the priest has its back to the congregation most of the time. In the old days, the people never responded to the calls of the priest for prayer. Rather, they just followed the action with a missal or said private prayers while the sacramental action was taking place at the altar beyond the rail.
Some of us may ask why the pope would facilitate the use of this old form. One reason may be found in the gospel today. Just as Jesus exhorts his disciples to seek out the one in a hundred sheep who goes astray, so the pope is asking priests to accommodate the few Catholics who may prefer the old rite to the new. He wants to keep the Church together in all the ways that are legitimately open to him.
Perhaps some observations are in order. First, there will not be a rush to use the old form. Most Masses will still be celebrated in the now familiar way. People should not fear that the Tridentine rite is being imposed upon them. Second, some pastors, already overburdened with work, might find that adding a Tridentine mass quite burdensome. Those who want the Tridentine rite should, therefore, be patient while the pastor searches for resources to introduce it. Finally, all Catholics might experiment with the old form again. Perhaps now that they are familiar with all the Mass parts, they might appreciate the phonetic beauty of Latin and the aesthetics of all facing in the direction of the rising sun while praying to God.
Homilette for Monday, August 13, 2007
Monday, XIX Week of Ordinary Time
(Deuteronomy 10 and Matthew 17)
The first reading and the gospel today present different ways of viewing the issue of illegal immigration. In Deuteronomy Moses exhorts the people to look kindly upon aliens since they were aliens in Egypt when God took compassion on them. The gospel portrays Jesus as a law-abider even though he as much as anyone is a citizen of heaven and almost an alien on earth. He did not evade the Temple tax but paid it outright. Aliens, some will rush to conclude, should likewise not flout the laws of the country in which they find themselves, even the laws that prohibit them from being there.
So then what should our attitude toward the undocumented be? First, it might be added that this is a global problem. European countries are expelling undocumented aliens just like the United States. Even poor nations deport people from still poorer economies as they try to protect jobs for their own citizens. Governments have that responsibility, and they should not be criticized as heartless for carrying it out.
Yet Moses’ admonition to care for the alien still stands. At least this means that an undocumented person must be treated with human dignity. He or she should not be abused physically and should be afforded some kind of legal process to determine legal status. Also, when the undocumented are in urgent need, people must be allowed to give them assistance without fear of government reprisal. In establishing a policy toward immigrants governments will want to assure the welfare of its own people but this generally includes provision of opportunities for others.
(Deuteronomy 10 and Matthew 17)
The first reading and the gospel today present different ways of viewing the issue of illegal immigration. In Deuteronomy Moses exhorts the people to look kindly upon aliens since they were aliens in Egypt when God took compassion on them. The gospel portrays Jesus as a law-abider even though he as much as anyone is a citizen of heaven and almost an alien on earth. He did not evade the Temple tax but paid it outright. Aliens, some will rush to conclude, should likewise not flout the laws of the country in which they find themselves, even the laws that prohibit them from being there.
So then what should our attitude toward the undocumented be? First, it might be added that this is a global problem. European countries are expelling undocumented aliens just like the United States. Even poor nations deport people from still poorer economies as they try to protect jobs for their own citizens. Governments have that responsibility, and they should not be criticized as heartless for carrying it out.
Yet Moses’ admonition to care for the alien still stands. At least this means that an undocumented person must be treated with human dignity. He or she should not be abused physically and should be afforded some kind of legal process to determine legal status. Also, when the undocumented are in urgent need, people must be allowed to give them assistance without fear of government reprisal. In establishing a policy toward immigrants governments will want to assure the welfare of its own people but this generally includes provision of opportunities for others.
Homilette for Friday, August 10, 2007
Friday, Feast of St. Lawrence, deacon and martyr
Fifty years ago martyrs enjoyed more popularity than today. People then enjoyed hearing the following story of the martyrdom of St. Lawrence. In a gruesome way to die St. Lawrence was roasted alive. Half way through the ordeal, however, St. Lawrence joked with his executioners. “I am done on this side,” he said, “you can turn me over.” To this day this saint is always pictured with a roasting brazier like we use to barbecue hamburgers.
Nowadays martyrdom is often ridiculed. If people call us a martyr, they likely mean to pay us no compliment. Rather, they probably think that we neurotically wish to suffer. Perhaps there is wisdom in not romanticizing martyrs as was done by frequent repetition of the story St. Lawrence’s brazier. After all, we pray “deliver us from evil” precisely to avoid the terrible choice between faith and premature death.
Yet it may be that we simplistically criticize former manners for their simplicity. The story of St. Lawrence’s martyrdom at least conveys the idea that there are values dearer than physical life. Eternal life is one such value and also our faith commitments. Whether it be priesthood, religious life, marriage, or just following the teachings of Jesus, young people today have great trouble committing themselves. Stories like St. Lawrence’s joyfully accepting his death for God may help everyone embrace these higher values more readily.
Fifty years ago martyrs enjoyed more popularity than today. People then enjoyed hearing the following story of the martyrdom of St. Lawrence. In a gruesome way to die St. Lawrence was roasted alive. Half way through the ordeal, however, St. Lawrence joked with his executioners. “I am done on this side,” he said, “you can turn me over.” To this day this saint is always pictured with a roasting brazier like we use to barbecue hamburgers.
Nowadays martyrdom is often ridiculed. If people call us a martyr, they likely mean to pay us no compliment. Rather, they probably think that we neurotically wish to suffer. Perhaps there is wisdom in not romanticizing martyrs as was done by frequent repetition of the story St. Lawrence’s brazier. After all, we pray “deliver us from evil” precisely to avoid the terrible choice between faith and premature death.
Yet it may be that we simplistically criticize former manners for their simplicity. The story of St. Lawrence’s martyrdom at least conveys the idea that there are values dearer than physical life. Eternal life is one such value and also our faith commitments. Whether it be priesthood, religious life, marriage, or just following the teachings of Jesus, young people today have great trouble committing themselves. Stories like St. Lawrence’s joyfully accepting his death for God may help everyone embrace these higher values more readily.
Homilette for Thursday, August 9, 2007
Thursday, XVII Week of Ordinary Time
(Matthew 16)
We have heard the central question of this gospel passage many times. Perhaps we remember Peter’s answer as if it were our telephone number. But can we appreciate its implications? “Who do people say the Son of Man is?” Jesus asks. Of course, he is talking about himself. He is the Son of Man; that is, the human who does God’s work. But the question asks, “What more is Jesus?” Peter gives the answer that we all know. He is “the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Now what does this mean?
Peter thinks it means that Jesus is exempt from suffering. Like the son of a king will never have to wait in line to receive medical care, Jesus -- in Peter’s mind -- will never punishment by human hand. But, of course, Peter is only reflecting what most humans think when he responds, “God forbid, Lord,” to Jesus’ prophecy of his own passion. That God’s son will undergo some of the most excruciating torture imaginable still astounds us.
But Jesus’ suffering will redeem suffering. With Jesus’ passion and death, suffering is no longer necessarily a scourge. Rather than only torment and desperation, suffering can now bring eternal life. All humans know suffering, and nobody likes it. But now we can welcome it. When we suffer in loving patience with Jesus, we show our acceptance of him as Lord. His resurrection and eternal life then becomes our hope.
It is like primitive humans controlling the use of fire. For a long time they reeled from its intensity and feared its power. But then they saw that they might use it for cooking, farming, and keeping warm. We do not look for suffering and pray that the suffering that comes our way is not beyond our strength. But we accept it knowing that endured in solidarity with Jesus, it assures salvation.
(Matthew 16)
We have heard the central question of this gospel passage many times. Perhaps we remember Peter’s answer as if it were our telephone number. But can we appreciate its implications? “Who do people say the Son of Man is?” Jesus asks. Of course, he is talking about himself. He is the Son of Man; that is, the human who does God’s work. But the question asks, “What more is Jesus?” Peter gives the answer that we all know. He is “the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Now what does this mean?
Peter thinks it means that Jesus is exempt from suffering. Like the son of a king will never have to wait in line to receive medical care, Jesus -- in Peter’s mind -- will never punishment by human hand. But, of course, Peter is only reflecting what most humans think when he responds, “God forbid, Lord,” to Jesus’ prophecy of his own passion. That God’s son will undergo some of the most excruciating torture imaginable still astounds us.
But Jesus’ suffering will redeem suffering. With Jesus’ passion and death, suffering is no longer necessarily a scourge. Rather than only torment and desperation, suffering can now bring eternal life. All humans know suffering, and nobody likes it. But now we can welcome it. When we suffer in loving patience with Jesus, we show our acceptance of him as Lord. His resurrection and eternal life then becomes our hope.
It is like primitive humans controlling the use of fire. For a long time they reeled from its intensity and feared its power. But then they saw that they might use it for cooking, farming, and keeping warm. We do not look for suffering and pray that the suffering that comes our way is not beyond our strength. But we accept it knowing that endured in solidarity with Jesus, it assures salvation.
Homilette for Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Wednesday, the Memorial of St. Dominic
(Numbers 13-14)
Caleb sounds like the rambunctious voice of youth as he urges the Israelites to form an expedition into Canaan in the first reading today. The land seemed unassailable to the scouts who examined it. Perhaps Caleb’s confidence comes from the assurance that the Israelites have more than swords and shields to claim the land. God, who has accompanied them past high waters and ensuing armies, has promised them victory.
Caleb’s nerve is matched by St. Dominic’s many centuries later. In 1217 Dominic had just received papal confirmation for the Order of Preachers. He had a group of seventeen men in various stages of formation walled up in a house in Prouille, France. They had much to learn about the apostolic life, but Dominic saw the need to begin an expedition of preaching throughout the world. “Wheat stored up in bins only rots,” he told the friars as he sent them forth in different directions. With God’s help they successfully established communities and then provinces.
Often we face what appear to be daunting challenges. Sometimes it’s a diet or exercise regime that we just don’t think we are up to. Sometimes it has to do with relationships whose disruption may make life unpleasant. A woman, for example, recently had to tell her company’s administration that her supervisor was stealing company funds. Certainly her action would seem a betrayal to the thief-supervisor and, likely as well, to other employees. With prayer and perhaps some consultation, we can – like St. Dominic – boldly move ahead to do what we know to be right.
(Numbers 13-14)
Caleb sounds like the rambunctious voice of youth as he urges the Israelites to form an expedition into Canaan in the first reading today. The land seemed unassailable to the scouts who examined it. Perhaps Caleb’s confidence comes from the assurance that the Israelites have more than swords and shields to claim the land. God, who has accompanied them past high waters and ensuing armies, has promised them victory.
Caleb’s nerve is matched by St. Dominic’s many centuries later. In 1217 Dominic had just received papal confirmation for the Order of Preachers. He had a group of seventeen men in various stages of formation walled up in a house in Prouille, France. They had much to learn about the apostolic life, but Dominic saw the need to begin an expedition of preaching throughout the world. “Wheat stored up in bins only rots,” he told the friars as he sent them forth in different directions. With God’s help they successfully established communities and then provinces.
Often we face what appear to be daunting challenges. Sometimes it’s a diet or exercise regime that we just don’t think we are up to. Sometimes it has to do with relationships whose disruption may make life unpleasant. A woman, for example, recently had to tell her company’s administration that her supervisor was stealing company funds. Certainly her action would seem a betrayal to the thief-supervisor and, likely as well, to other employees. With prayer and perhaps some consultation, we can – like St. Dominic – boldly move ahead to do what we know to be right.
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