Thursday after Ash Wednesday
(Deuteronomy 30:15-20; Luke 9:22-25)
“Choose life.” We have all seen bumper stickers and tee-shirts with this anti-abortion slogan. No doubt, people who feel burdened by an unexpected pregnancy find the message ironic. To them life is being liberated from the responsibility of child-bearing so that they may pursue other concerns. Life, then, is a simple word with different meanings to different people.
In the reading from Deuteronomy today, Moses exhorts the Israelites to “choose life.” He has in mind God’s law that extends the well-being of both individual and community. Following the road of righteousness, both present and future generations will thrive. Descendants will cherish the memory of forebears who taught them the law and so, in a sense, keep their ancestors in existence. More importantly, the law will secure the bonds that hold the people together
Jesus radicalizes Moses’ message. As we hear in the gospel, he says that life is the outcome of his way of self-surrender. This may involve even a renunciation of biological life. However, it promises more than immortalization in the minds and hearts of descendants. It looks toward a transcendent, personal existence with God in eternity.
Homilette for Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Ash Wednesday
(Joel 2:12-18; II Corinthians 5:20-6:2; Matthew 6:1-6; 6-18)
In a few minutes a minister will rub ashes on our foreheads. While doing this, he (or she) will repeat one of two formulas: “Remember...that you are dust and to dust will return” or “Turn away from sin and be faithful to the gospel.” It is humbling to realize that we come from dust and chilling to see how little dust we return to. The so-called cremains of a human corpse that has been cremated fill only a mid-sized baggie!
Indeed, we are headed for destruction. Nothing will save us from death. But death does not necessarily mean that we will not be heard from again. We may rise from the dead to walk in a freedom unlike anything we will have ever known. The apostles testified with their lives that this is exactly what happened to Jesus after his crucifixion. Further, they said that it will happen to us if we commit ourselves to him.
We try to do so every day of our lives. But for forty days each year we redouble our efforts. Lent is an annual retreat where we walk closely with Jesus, especially in the way of his cross. We take pains to care for others, to pray, and to fast -- not for fame but for true righteousness. We make every effort to turn away from our sins and be faithful to Jesus’ gospel.
(Joel 2:12-18; II Corinthians 5:20-6:2; Matthew 6:1-6; 6-18)
In a few minutes a minister will rub ashes on our foreheads. While doing this, he (or she) will repeat one of two formulas: “Remember...that you are dust and to dust will return” or “Turn away from sin and be faithful to the gospel.” It is humbling to realize that we come from dust and chilling to see how little dust we return to. The so-called cremains of a human corpse that has been cremated fill only a mid-sized baggie!
Indeed, we are headed for destruction. Nothing will save us from death. But death does not necessarily mean that we will not be heard from again. We may rise from the dead to walk in a freedom unlike anything we will have ever known. The apostles testified with their lives that this is exactly what happened to Jesus after his crucifixion. Further, they said that it will happen to us if we commit ourselves to him.
We try to do so every day of our lives. But for forty days each year we redouble our efforts. Lent is an annual retreat where we walk closely with Jesus, especially in the way of his cross. We take pains to care for others, to pray, and to fast -- not for fame but for true righteousness. We make every effort to turn away from our sins and be faithful to Jesus’ gospel.
Homilette for Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Tuesday of the Seventh Week in Ordinary Time
(Sirach 2:1-11; Mark 9:30-37)
The inelegant name “Fat Tuesday” (Mardi Gras) is derived from the ancient custom of households consuming all remaining fatty foods before Lent begins. Lent was a time of severe penance when Christians did not eat meat or desserts made with animal fat. Like most good practices, Mardi Gras has often been corrupted. Today it is sometimes celebrated in the spirit of orgy rather than as a dutiful, albeit cheery, preparation for a devout fast.
The gospel today indicates a similar distortion of values. Jesus has confided in his disciples that the Son of Man will suffer and then experience glory. They, however, refuse to probe what this might mean preferring, instead, to dwell on fatuous concerns of self-importance. Their obtuseness might be as comical as a Three Stooges routine except for the fact that they have witnessed different indications that Jesus himself is the one who is about to undergo the ordeal. Thus, their denseness becomes a sad commentary on human nature.
If we wish, we might eat an extra piece of meat or drink a glass of wine today. But let us do so with an eye on tomorrow. During Lent we should take stock of our sinfulness. We will strive to understand how our selfishness has impeded us from appreciating both the price and the benefit of our redemption.
(Sirach 2:1-11; Mark 9:30-37)
The inelegant name “Fat Tuesday” (Mardi Gras) is derived from the ancient custom of households consuming all remaining fatty foods before Lent begins. Lent was a time of severe penance when Christians did not eat meat or desserts made with animal fat. Like most good practices, Mardi Gras has often been corrupted. Today it is sometimes celebrated in the spirit of orgy rather than as a dutiful, albeit cheery, preparation for a devout fast.
The gospel today indicates a similar distortion of values. Jesus has confided in his disciples that the Son of Man will suffer and then experience glory. They, however, refuse to probe what this might mean preferring, instead, to dwell on fatuous concerns of self-importance. Their obtuseness might be as comical as a Three Stooges routine except for the fact that they have witnessed different indications that Jesus himself is the one who is about to undergo the ordeal. Thus, their denseness becomes a sad commentary on human nature.
If we wish, we might eat an extra piece of meat or drink a glass of wine today. But let us do so with an eye on tomorrow. During Lent we should take stock of our sinfulness. We will strive to understand how our selfishness has impeded us from appreciating both the price and the benefit of our redemption.
Homilette for Monday, February 23, 2009
Monday of the Seventh Week in Ordinary Time
(Sirach 1:1-10; Mark 9:14-29)
We sometimes think of faith as acceptance of Church teaching. In the old “Act of Faith” we proclaimed, “O my God, I believe that thou art one God in three divine persons, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.” This understanding of faith is valid and necessary. But first and foremost, faith is a relationship with God. It is placing our hand in His (so to speak) or, for Christians at least, in that of His Son, Jesus Christ.
In the gospel today the father of the boy with a demon expresses the quality of faith that most of us share. “I do believe,” he tells Jesus, “help my unbelief!” Like that desperate man, we have an incipient relationship with Jesus. But it is not strong because we have not nurtured it with prayer. Somehow we must increase the quality and quantity of our prayer life.
Formal prayers give us a place to start. The rosary requires significant time and now offers more mysteries to contemplate. Grace before meals is minimal but does remind everyone that God provides our daily sustenance. Done in public, it also gives witness to our love for God. Most of all, we need to participate in the Eucharist as often and as devoutly as possible. We also might converse with God like the Jewish milkman, Teyve, in Fiddler on the Roof. Riding alone in a car, we can turn off the radio for a few minutes to thank God for blessings received, repeat our love for Him, and – most of all -- request His help with whatever worries us. Doing so, we move our faith to maturity.
(Sirach 1:1-10; Mark 9:14-29)
We sometimes think of faith as acceptance of Church teaching. In the old “Act of Faith” we proclaimed, “O my God, I believe that thou art one God in three divine persons, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.” This understanding of faith is valid and necessary. But first and foremost, faith is a relationship with God. It is placing our hand in His (so to speak) or, for Christians at least, in that of His Son, Jesus Christ.
In the gospel today the father of the boy with a demon expresses the quality of faith that most of us share. “I do believe,” he tells Jesus, “help my unbelief!” Like that desperate man, we have an incipient relationship with Jesus. But it is not strong because we have not nurtured it with prayer. Somehow we must increase the quality and quantity of our prayer life.
Formal prayers give us a place to start. The rosary requires significant time and now offers more mysteries to contemplate. Grace before meals is minimal but does remind everyone that God provides our daily sustenance. Done in public, it also gives witness to our love for God. Most of all, we need to participate in the Eucharist as often and as devoutly as possible. We also might converse with God like the Jewish milkman, Teyve, in Fiddler on the Roof. Riding alone in a car, we can turn off the radio for a few minutes to thank God for blessings received, repeat our love for Him, and – most of all -- request His help with whatever worries us. Doing so, we move our faith to maturity.
Homilette for Friday, February 20, 2009
Friday of the Sixth Week in Ordinary Time
(Genesis 11:1-9; Mark 8:34-9:1)
Not only athletes but quite regular men and women look to artificial sources for self-enhancement. After all, if steroids could turn an average hitter into superstar, might they not make any body everyone’s desire or envy by adding proportion? The reading from Genesis today teaches us that the use of technology to boost oneself is really almost as old as the human species itself.
The inhabitants of Babel live not long after Noah who was the first born human after the death of Adam. God told Noah and his sons to “multiply and fill the earth.” Yet some of his descendants come together to build the city of Babel! By their own admission their purpose is egotistical. They want “to make a name for themselves” by means of technology -- molding bricks and hardening them with fire. They seem to think that they might rival God by constructing a tower so high that it reaches heaven. The idea is ludicrous, of course. God has to go down to stop the folly before the people destroy themselves.
What Genesis is critiquing is not the desire of humans to improve themselves but the hubris or pride that drives them to attempt bypassing God in their efforts to win the adulation of others. People want to become idols – to be considered gods among their peers. God is not jealous. He knows quite well that whatever humans make of and by themselves, they will never be more than blind cockroaches in comparison to Him. But God wants His noblest creatures to do better than that. He confuses their languages and resends them throughout the world to open their eyes as it were. God wants us to respect and admire the richness of different individuals and cultures so that we might turn back to him in awe and gratitude.
(Genesis 11:1-9; Mark 8:34-9:1)
Not only athletes but quite regular men and women look to artificial sources for self-enhancement. After all, if steroids could turn an average hitter into superstar, might they not make any body everyone’s desire or envy by adding proportion? The reading from Genesis today teaches us that the use of technology to boost oneself is really almost as old as the human species itself.
The inhabitants of Babel live not long after Noah who was the first born human after the death of Adam. God told Noah and his sons to “multiply and fill the earth.” Yet some of his descendants come together to build the city of Babel! By their own admission their purpose is egotistical. They want “to make a name for themselves” by means of technology -- molding bricks and hardening them with fire. They seem to think that they might rival God by constructing a tower so high that it reaches heaven. The idea is ludicrous, of course. God has to go down to stop the folly before the people destroy themselves.
What Genesis is critiquing is not the desire of humans to improve themselves but the hubris or pride that drives them to attempt bypassing God in their efforts to win the adulation of others. People want to become idols – to be considered gods among their peers. God is not jealous. He knows quite well that whatever humans make of and by themselves, they will never be more than blind cockroaches in comparison to Him. But God wants His noblest creatures to do better than that. He confuses their languages and resends them throughout the world to open their eyes as it were. God wants us to respect and admire the richness of different individuals and cultures so that we might turn back to him in awe and gratitude.
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