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.
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.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Tuesday of the Second Week in Lent
(Isaiah 1:10.16-20; Matthew 23:1-12)
“Power tends to corrupt,” Lord Dahlberg-Acton wrote to Bishop Mandell Creighton in 1887, “and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” Acton wasn’t condemning the possession of power since it is necessary to bring about anything that is worthwhile. But he was cautioning his friend that having power entails responsibility because it could as easily be used for evil as for good.
In the gospel Jesus comments on the abuse of power by the scribes and Pharisees. He criticizes their way of exploiting the prestige – a kind of power -- they have for purposes of self-aggrandizement. He then forbids all titles of prestige among his followers.
The question is frequently asked, “If Jesus prohibits the titles of ‘father’ and ‘Master’ and ‘Rabbi,’ then why have at least the first two terms been used in the Church for centuries?” Although an argument may be made in defense of the titles by examining the context of the gospel passage, it seems most honest to say that the Church, the ultimate interpreter of Scripture, determined early on that she would not insist upon a literal following of Jesus’ words here. The case is like the Church’s acceptance of oaths even though Jesus specifically prohibits them (Matthew 5:34-37). The Church believes that the title of “father,” used out of respect for the training, dedication, and experience of priests, is legitimate. However, she also holds priests accountable for living up to the title by judiciously carrying out their responsibilities.
(Isaiah 1:10.16-20; Matthew 23:1-12)
“Power tends to corrupt,” Lord Dahlberg-Acton wrote to Bishop Mandell Creighton in 1887, “and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” Acton wasn’t condemning the possession of power since it is necessary to bring about anything that is worthwhile. But he was cautioning his friend that having power entails responsibility because it could as easily be used for evil as for good.
In the gospel Jesus comments on the abuse of power by the scribes and Pharisees. He criticizes their way of exploiting the prestige – a kind of power -- they have for purposes of self-aggrandizement. He then forbids all titles of prestige among his followers.
The question is frequently asked, “If Jesus prohibits the titles of ‘father’ and ‘Master’ and ‘Rabbi,’ then why have at least the first two terms been used in the Church for centuries?” Although an argument may be made in defense of the titles by examining the context of the gospel passage, it seems most honest to say that the Church, the ultimate interpreter of Scripture, determined early on that she would not insist upon a literal following of Jesus’ words here. The case is like the Church’s acceptance of oaths even though Jesus specifically prohibits them (Matthew 5:34-37). The Church believes that the title of “father,” used out of respect for the training, dedication, and experience of priests, is legitimate. However, she also holds priests accountable for living up to the title by judiciously carrying out their responsibilities.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Monday of the Second Week in Lent
(Daniel 9:4b-10; Luke 6:36-38)
In Clint Eastwood’s award-winning picture Unforgiven, a corrupt sheriff is meted out severe retribution by an almost ruthless bounty hunter. The sheriff’s dying words are a pathetic, “I didn’t deserve to die like this.” How did he deserve to die after tolerating murder in his jurisdiction? His lament stands in contrast to Daniel’s in the first reading today.
Daniel does not dodge communal blame for the Israelite exile. He recognizes that his people did sin against God by ignoring the prophets’ warnings. They did not obey God’s laws, especially the injunction against idolatry in the first commandment, “I am the Lord, your God; you shall not have other gods besides me.”
The self-criticism of Daniel gives the gospel passage a different twist. We are accustomed to hearing this gospel as a simple exhortation to be generous in our dealings with other. Juxtaposed with the passage from Daniel, we should understand Jesus as telling us not to consider whether we are treated fairly or not – “stop judging…” – by others or even by God. Rather we are to acknowledge that we are guilty of sin, that God has forgiven us, and that His mercy is full reason for us to treat others kindly.
(Daniel 9:4b-10; Luke 6:36-38)
In Clint Eastwood’s award-winning picture Unforgiven, a corrupt sheriff is meted out severe retribution by an almost ruthless bounty hunter. The sheriff’s dying words are a pathetic, “I didn’t deserve to die like this.” How did he deserve to die after tolerating murder in his jurisdiction? His lament stands in contrast to Daniel’s in the first reading today.
Daniel does not dodge communal blame for the Israelite exile. He recognizes that his people did sin against God by ignoring the prophets’ warnings. They did not obey God’s laws, especially the injunction against idolatry in the first commandment, “I am the Lord, your God; you shall not have other gods besides me.”
The self-criticism of Daniel gives the gospel passage a different twist. We are accustomed to hearing this gospel as a simple exhortation to be generous in our dealings with other. Juxtaposed with the passage from Daniel, we should understand Jesus as telling us not to consider whether we are treated fairly or not – “stop judging…” – by others or even by God. Rather we are to acknowledge that we are guilty of sin, that God has forgiven us, and that His mercy is full reason for us to treat others kindly.
Fiday, March 18, 2011
Friday of the First Week in Lent
(Ezekiel 18:21-28; Matthew 5:20-26)
Over twenty-five years ago Jim had a coronary bypass. It was radical surgery, but the discipline that his doctors imposed was even more extreme. A heavy smoker since he was a teen, Jim had to give up cigarettes cold turkey. A professional in a demanding administrative job, Jim had to take time to exercise every day. Overweight, he had to shed excess pounds. In short, if he was going to live much longer, Jim he had to turn on head life-long habits at the age of fifty. Jim’s brother died shortly before the bypass reminding him that doctor’s instructions are not professional drivel. Jim is alive and well today at eighty plus year. He may not be as thin as his doctor would like, but he doesn’t smoke and habitually exercises.
In the gospel Jesus calls for a change of life-style every bit as radical as Jim’s although on a spiritual level. We are no longer to get angry with or make fun of a brother or sister. Here Jesus refers not so much to our blood relatives but to the men and women of our church. If the Christian community is to be “the light of the world,” as Jesus says, its members have to constantly give good example. Refraining from anger and mockery (“Raqa” means empty-headed) are but the beginning of respect for others.
Is it then permissible for us to curse or deride people who don’t belong to our church? Such hair-splitting is what Jesus steers his disciples from in the Sermon on the Mount. The Scribes and Pharisees would make such distinctions so that they might indulge their passions while priding themselves for moral superiority. In truth Christians through the centuries have frequently acted in this way. But Jesus has called us to a new righteousness which decries self-congratulations. We are to see in everyone a potential sister or brother and to treat her or him accordingly.
(Ezekiel 18:21-28; Matthew 5:20-26)
Over twenty-five years ago Jim had a coronary bypass. It was radical surgery, but the discipline that his doctors imposed was even more extreme. A heavy smoker since he was a teen, Jim had to give up cigarettes cold turkey. A professional in a demanding administrative job, Jim had to take time to exercise every day. Overweight, he had to shed excess pounds. In short, if he was going to live much longer, Jim he had to turn on head life-long habits at the age of fifty. Jim’s brother died shortly before the bypass reminding him that doctor’s instructions are not professional drivel. Jim is alive and well today at eighty plus year. He may not be as thin as his doctor would like, but he doesn’t smoke and habitually exercises.
In the gospel Jesus calls for a change of life-style every bit as radical as Jim’s although on a spiritual level. We are no longer to get angry with or make fun of a brother or sister. Here Jesus refers not so much to our blood relatives but to the men and women of our church. If the Christian community is to be “the light of the world,” as Jesus says, its members have to constantly give good example. Refraining from anger and mockery (“Raqa” means empty-headed) are but the beginning of respect for others.
Is it then permissible for us to curse or deride people who don’t belong to our church? Such hair-splitting is what Jesus steers his disciples from in the Sermon on the Mount. The Scribes and Pharisees would make such distinctions so that they might indulge their passions while priding themselves for moral superiority. In truth Christians through the centuries have frequently acted in this way. But Jesus has called us to a new righteousness which decries self-congratulations. We are to see in everyone a potential sister or brother and to treat her or him accordingly.
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