Memorial of St. Cornelius, pope, and St. Cyprian, bishop, martyrs
(I Timothy 3:14-16; Luke 7:31-35)
“You will be known by the company you keep,” our mothers used to tell us. They were only repeating a proverb that generally serves its listeners well. Not only are people inclined to judge us as good or bad on the basis of our associates, but also we tend to become like our friends.
But folk wisdom has its limitations. What do we do, for example, when proverbs contradict one another? Is “discretion the better part of valor” or is “the one who hesitates lost”? Obviously, we have to look beneath the surface to attain the truth in matters like this. Just so, Jesus appeals to his listeners in the gospel today to look beyond what meets their eyes to the effect that his eating and drinking with sinners creates. He is not conforming to their sinful ways, but sinners are leaving behind their sins like corn dogs at a gourmet fest.
Jesus is telling us not only to stop judging by superficial criteria but also to step out of our social confines. He wants the young to greet the elderly, blacks and whites to dialogue together, and workers to extend a hand to the unemployed. Whether we talk about Jesus or not when we reach beyond our typical company, we give testimony to his goodness by imitating his ways.
Homilette for Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Memorial of Our Lady of Sorrows
(I Timothy 3:1-13; John 19:25-27)
It is tempting to hear these nearly final words of Jesus as an only son’s concern for his widowed mother after he dies. However, the context calls for a different and perhaps richer interpretation. Throughout John’s Gospel, Jesus does not look back to his childhood family but beyond to his divine one. Here we can see him giving his mother to his beloved disciple and his beloved disciple to his mother so that they too might be part of God’s eternal family. Their coming together will initiate the community called Church as they become adopted children of God and heirs of places in the heavenly household. When Jesus expires, John says that he “hand(s) over his spirit.” We may consider his mother and beloved disciple as the recipients of that spirit springing the Church into existence.
Yet Mary is still “the Mother of Sorrows.” Artists never depict this moment of church formation as a happy one. Rather they show Mary with tears in her eyes and, sometimes, John too distressed to show his face. It is not that they, or we in similar moments of loss, are too much part of the world to feel satisfaction that their loved one is heaven-bound. Rather, Jesus has loved them both so long and so well that being deprived of his presence will test their endurance. Thus, the scene provides us with a lesson about love. Worthy human love always makes us want to be united with the object of our love. Such love (eros in Greek) grows into divine love (agape in Greek or caritas in Latin) when God’s grace enables us to give the beloved back to God knowing He will reunite him or her to us forever.
(I Timothy 3:1-13; John 19:25-27)
It is tempting to hear these nearly final words of Jesus as an only son’s concern for his widowed mother after he dies. However, the context calls for a different and perhaps richer interpretation. Throughout John’s Gospel, Jesus does not look back to his childhood family but beyond to his divine one. Here we can see him giving his mother to his beloved disciple and his beloved disciple to his mother so that they too might be part of God’s eternal family. Their coming together will initiate the community called Church as they become adopted children of God and heirs of places in the heavenly household. When Jesus expires, John says that he “hand(s) over his spirit.” We may consider his mother and beloved disciple as the recipients of that spirit springing the Church into existence.
Yet Mary is still “the Mother of Sorrows.” Artists never depict this moment of church formation as a happy one. Rather they show Mary with tears in her eyes and, sometimes, John too distressed to show his face. It is not that they, or we in similar moments of loss, are too much part of the world to feel satisfaction that their loved one is heaven-bound. Rather, Jesus has loved them both so long and so well that being deprived of his presence will test their endurance. Thus, the scene provides us with a lesson about love. Worthy human love always makes us want to be united with the object of our love. Such love (eros in Greek) grows into divine love (agape in Greek or caritas in Latin) when God’s grace enables us to give the beloved back to God knowing He will reunite him or her to us forever.
Homilette for Monday, September 14, 2009
Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross
(Numbers 21:4b-9; Philippians 2:6-11; John 3:13-17)
Beholding jeweled crosses and hearing how perfect the cross is as geometric design, we have difficulty contemplating its scandal for early Christians. It is said that people mocked the first followers of Jesus when they found out that he was nailed to a cross. We might similarly chide a teenager today for idolizing a rock star. In Jesus’ day crucifixion was the basest of punishments the state imposed because it entailed the most gruesome suffering. We do not consider it an alternative form of execution today precisely because it comprises “cruel and unusual punishment.” Yet the cross is the instrument by which Christ won our salvation.
The gospel today curiously does not mention the cross. It merely states that those who believe in Jesus “lifted up” will be saved. In the Gospel of John Jesus is lifted up twice – first on the cross and then in the resurrection. Either time when we look on him with faith, we find ourselves in the magnetic field of salvation. When we believe in Jesus crucified for our salvation and lifted up for our glory, we are saved.
However, faith is more than paying lip service that Jesus died on the cross and rose from the dead. Faith indicates our willingness to follow him through suffering to everlasting life. Still, the purpose of today’s feast, as those of Holy Week, is to indicate that not by our own effort do we achieve our life’s end. As when we were little children with nothing to repay our relatives for the gifts they brought us, we cannot earn eternal life. We can only say, “Thank you, thank you, thank you” to Jesus for his death on the cross.
(Numbers 21:4b-9; Philippians 2:6-11; John 3:13-17)
Beholding jeweled crosses and hearing how perfect the cross is as geometric design, we have difficulty contemplating its scandal for early Christians. It is said that people mocked the first followers of Jesus when they found out that he was nailed to a cross. We might similarly chide a teenager today for idolizing a rock star. In Jesus’ day crucifixion was the basest of punishments the state imposed because it entailed the most gruesome suffering. We do not consider it an alternative form of execution today precisely because it comprises “cruel and unusual punishment.” Yet the cross is the instrument by which Christ won our salvation.
The gospel today curiously does not mention the cross. It merely states that those who believe in Jesus “lifted up” will be saved. In the Gospel of John Jesus is lifted up twice – first on the cross and then in the resurrection. Either time when we look on him with faith, we find ourselves in the magnetic field of salvation. When we believe in Jesus crucified for our salvation and lifted up for our glory, we are saved.
However, faith is more than paying lip service that Jesus died on the cross and rose from the dead. Faith indicates our willingness to follow him through suffering to everlasting life. Still, the purpose of today’s feast, as those of Holy Week, is to indicate that not by our own effort do we achieve our life’s end. As when we were little children with nothing to repay our relatives for the gifts they brought us, we cannot earn eternal life. We can only say, “Thank you, thank you, thank you” to Jesus for his death on the cross.
Homilette for Friday, September 11, 2009
Friday of the Twenty-third Week in Ordinary Time
(I Timothy 1:1-2.12-14; Luke 6:39-42)
Nathaniel Hawthorne tells the haunting tale of a scientist that marries an extraordinarily beautiful woman. The scientist notices one slight defect in his wife’s face – a birthmark on her cheek -- and desires to remove it through drug therapy. At first the woman dismisses the birthmark as charming not detracting, but for her husband’s sake she drinks the elixir he prescribes. The result is calamitous. Although the birthmark fades away, the lovely woman dies as well.
Hawthorne’s story illustrates Jesus’ admonition in the gospel today. The scientist makes a disastrous guide because a wooden beam -- belief in the power of science to remedy all ills –lodges in his eye blinding him to the fact that the birthmark is but a superficial blemish, a splinter.
We should take care not to suffer the same illusion as the scientist that material and scientific progress has made or indeed can make life nearly perfect. Yes, people today live longer than before and are less likely to suffer from back-breaking labor. Yet they still treat one another cruelly and sometimes end feeling desperate in an uncaring world. It is a far from perfect situation and indeed difficult to tell if the quality of human life is actually improving.
(I Timothy 1:1-2.12-14; Luke 6:39-42)
Nathaniel Hawthorne tells the haunting tale of a scientist that marries an extraordinarily beautiful woman. The scientist notices one slight defect in his wife’s face – a birthmark on her cheek -- and desires to remove it through drug therapy. At first the woman dismisses the birthmark as charming not detracting, but for her husband’s sake she drinks the elixir he prescribes. The result is calamitous. Although the birthmark fades away, the lovely woman dies as well.
Hawthorne’s story illustrates Jesus’ admonition in the gospel today. The scientist makes a disastrous guide because a wooden beam -- belief in the power of science to remedy all ills –lodges in his eye blinding him to the fact that the birthmark is but a superficial blemish, a splinter.
We should take care not to suffer the same illusion as the scientist that material and scientific progress has made or indeed can make life nearly perfect. Yes, people today live longer than before and are less likely to suffer from back-breaking labor. Yet they still treat one another cruelly and sometimes end feeling desperate in an uncaring world. It is a far from perfect situation and indeed difficult to tell if the quality of human life is actually improving.
Homilette for Thursday, September 10, 2009
Thursday of the Twenty-third Week in Ordinary Time
(Colossians 3:12-17; Luke 6:27-38)
The third century theologian Tertullian quoted pagans admiring Christian, “Look how they love one another.” Evidently early Christians took to heart Scriptural passages like the one we read from the Letter to the Colossians today. We are told to “have heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience, bearing with one another and forgiving one another...”
Perhaps in the name of honesty Christians today criticize one another with all the fervor of hardened politicians. For the past generation at least the measure has been the liberal-conservative divide. Liberals speak of conservatives as compassionless while conservatives fault liberals for wavering commitment to Church belief. It may be imprudent and perhaps impossible to refrain from judgment on fundamental Christian principles like mercy and faithfulness. Still judgment does not require always speaking one’s mind. We follow Christ, in the words of the reading, by “bearing with one another and forgiving one another.” Or is it that when we act with such forbearance Christ follows us putting into our hearts his peace?
(Colossians 3:12-17; Luke 6:27-38)
The third century theologian Tertullian quoted pagans admiring Christian, “Look how they love one another.” Evidently early Christians took to heart Scriptural passages like the one we read from the Letter to the Colossians today. We are told to “have heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience, bearing with one another and forgiving one another...”
Perhaps in the name of honesty Christians today criticize one another with all the fervor of hardened politicians. For the past generation at least the measure has been the liberal-conservative divide. Liberals speak of conservatives as compassionless while conservatives fault liberals for wavering commitment to Church belief. It may be imprudent and perhaps impossible to refrain from judgment on fundamental Christian principles like mercy and faithfulness. Still judgment does not require always speaking one’s mind. We follow Christ, in the words of the reading, by “bearing with one another and forgiving one another.” Or is it that when we act with such forbearance Christ follows us putting into our hearts his peace?
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