Wednesday, November 8, 2017

Homily for 8 Nov 2017

8 Nov 2017

Saint Paul says to “love;” Jesus says to “hate.”  But, really, they’re saying the same thing.  They’re both saying: Put others first and, especially, put God first.  That what it means to “love your neighbor” and also to “hate one’s father, mother, wife, children, brothers, sisters, and one’s own life.”  Saint Paul and Jesus are saying the same thing: Put others first...but, especially, put God first.

They’re asking us to give priority to God and his ways, and to give slightly less priority to our attachments.  And we know that not from the English words “love” and “hate,” but from the Greek words “agape [ah-GAH-pay]” and “misei [MEE-say].”  For us, “love” and “hate” are opposite ends of a spectrum.  That’s why it sounds terrible when Jesus says to “hate” the people we love. 

But in the Greek, the words “agape” and “misei” aren’t so extreme.  They both have to do with priorities, and where our priorities are.  To love, to “agape,” means to give a little more weight to others’ needs than to our own.  And to hate, to “misei,” means to give a little more priority to our relationship with God than our relationship with others. 

And so, Saint Paul says to “love;” Jesus says to “hate.”  But, really, they’re saying the same thing.  They’re both saying: Put others first and, especially, put God first.  It’s like what Saint Mother Teresa said about “joy,” and having joy in our hearts.  “Joy:” J.O.Y.  “Jesus, Others, You,” in that order.  If we can keep our priorities straight, we’ll have joy in our hearts, and bring joy to others.  

Saturday, November 4, 2017

Homily for 5 Nov 2017

5 Nov 2017
31st Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

There was a young girl who was obsessed with eating sugary foods.  No matter what her parents did or said, she wouldn’t stop.  So they decided to take the girl to a wise old man, so he could give her some direction.  The old man listened to the parents and then thought for awhile.  And when he finally spoke he said to them, “Bring your daughter back in two weeks.” 

So they went away and came back later as the old man had directed.  Their daughter sat down, and the old man said to her, “Child, you’re eating too much sugar.  You should stop that; it’s not good for your health.”  Her parents looked at the old man and asked, “Why couldn’t you say that two weeks ago?”  To which he answered, “Because I needed two weeks to cut back on my own obsession with eating sugar.”

It’s a cute little story (often attributed to Mahatma Gandhi), but there’s some important wisdom in it which relates to our Scriptures today.  The girl’s parents sought out the old man because of his reputation.  But his reputation was built on his own personal integrity.  In his wisdom, he knew he couldn’t tell the girl what to do if he himself refused to address his own weakness.  He knew he had to “practice what he preached.”  That’s what made him the sought-after “wise” old man.

Our Scriptures today chastise those who are leaders of God’s people, but who do not practice what they preach.  That’s why Jesus said, “Do what they say, but do not follow their example.”  He’s speaking specifically of the Chief Priests, the Pharisees, the scribes and the elders, all of whom had the responsibility of teaching and shepherding the people.  They laid down the law, but they themselves refused to live by that law.  And so they were very poor leaders.    

And, as we know, poor leaders can devastate a community—whether they’re civil leaders or religious leaders.  Their message can be right, but it can go very badly if they don’t listen to their own message.  And we don’t have to look very far to see this. 

The Catholic Church is a very old and venerable community instituted by Christ.  But her shepherds haven’t always been the most honorable.  This past week, Lutherans celebrated Reformation Day, that day back in 1517 when Martin Luther called out the hypocritical shepherds of the Church.  Now, we can debate all day about whether or not Luther’s actions were a good thing.  But there’s no question at all that, if the shepherds of the Church had practiced what they preached and adhered to the gospel, what Luther did wouldn’t have been necessary in the first place.

We look to our own century and see the devastation brought by the clergy abuse scandal fifteen years ago.  The lives of innocent children and their families were ruined, and so too was any respect the Church had as a trustworthy, loving, and honorable institution.  And once trust is gone, it’s near to impossible to get back.  The callousness and hypocrisy of some clergy brought a significant amount of devastation.

And, I suppose, one lesson we can take from our Scriptures today is to pray for those in leadership of any kind, especially in the Church.  When one makes a public profession to “practice what one preaches,” the expectations to do that well increase a hundred-fold.  And that’s not a bad thing, but it increases the pressure.  So praying for our leaders, supporting them—even in their human weaknesses—is a lesson we can take with us today.

The other lesson we can take is that—especially in the Church—we are all leaders of the faith.  The Church is made up of all the faithful, ordained and lay alike.  And we’re all called to go from here and share our faith with others.  And we do that by how we live our lives, how we treat others—in the home, at school, at work, in the fields, wherever we are.  And so that call to practice what we preach is important for all of us to follow.

When you think about the reasons why somebody might join a parish or leave a parish, or want to join the Catholic Church or leave it, it usually has something to do with “human stuff.”  Of course, there are other reasons too, including the preaching and the music, and also larger cultural factors.  But the integrity, or authenticity, of the community itself seems to play a significant role.

When Saint Paul went around preaching and starting up little communities of faith, he would also do a lot of follow up with them.  That’s what many of his letters seem to be.  But it wasn’t just a friendly “check-up:” you know...”How’s it going over there in Corinth.”  His letters reminded them of how he treated them, and how he shared the gospel with them. 

Today, we heard, “We were gentle among you, as a nursing mother cares for her children.  With such affection for you, we were determined to share with you not only the gospel of God, but our very selves as well, so dearly beloved had you become to us. You recall, brothers and sisters, our toil and drudgery.  Working night and day in order not to burden any of you, we proclaimed to you the gospel of God.” 

But Saint Paul wasn’t boasting.  He wasn’t saying, “Hey, look at what a good person I was to you.”  He reminded them so they could imitate him.  Saint Paul was a man of integrity—even in spite of his personal history and his continuing human weaknesses.  He was a man who practiced what he preached; he lived with real faith, with certain hope, and with unconquerable love and charity.  And he was encouraging others to be like him; to be a person of integrity.

And that’s because integrity, authenticity, “practicing what we profess” is attractive; it’s beautiful and good.  And that comes through in all our “human stuff:” the way we treat others, the way we put our values into practice, and so on.

Some of the values we profess and that hope others get on board with include things like...hospitality: welcoming others, greeting others as the brothers and sisters in Christ that we are.  And hospitality includes forgiveness.  Now, to live with integrity doesn’t mean being sinless.  But it does involve how we respond to sins: our own and others.’  Can I forgive myself as God forgives me?  Can I forgive others as God forgives me?

And this all includes being able to work through things with charity, mercy, humility, justice, and so on.  Wherever there’s a community of human beings, there are going to be conflicts—church, home, school, friends.  The test, however, is how we get through it.  The test is: Will we put into practice the values we profess?

If we can say yes to that, it’s attractive.  Being hospitable, forgiving, encouraging, honest…it’s all attractive; it draws people in because the gospel is being preached right there in how we live.

Other values we profess and that we hope others will get on board with are...prayer, fasting, and almsgiving.  Those are brought out pretty strongly every Lenten season.  Can people tell that I am a man or woman of prayer?  Can I say the psalm from today: “In you, Lord, I have found my peace. O Lord, my heart is not proud, nor are my eyes haughty; I busy not myself with great things, nor with things too sublime for me.  Like a weaned child on its mother's lap, so is my soul within me.”  Or am I always restless, never satisfied, always angry, and not at peace with myself and others?

People can tell whether or not we “practice what we preach;” whether or not we “practice what we profess.”  And we each know that; we can spot hypocrisy—in others and in ourselves.  We can also spot authenticity—in others and in ourselves.  We know when we’re living the gospel...because we’re at peace with ourselves.  And it feels very good.  And it is good, and attractive, and a beautiful thing to experience. 

That’s why Saint Paul says, “Live like me, imitate me.”  He knows that authentic Christian living is the most inspiring thing we have to share with others.  It’s what draws people in—into community, into Christian friendship, and into union with our God.  When it comes to the world, and evangelizing that world, we are all shepherds.  And so, today’s Scriptures are really for all of us.

May we shepherd the world well, practicing what we profess...for our own good, the good of others, and the glory of God. 

Friday, November 3, 2017

Homily for 3 Nov 2017

3 Nov 2017

We all have expectations of God: we expect him to be forgiving and loving, we expect him to be our Light and show us the way, we expect him to “be us always” as he promised.  We have expectations of God, and that’s simply because of what he told us about himself. 

The challenge is to always keep those expectations in line with what God has revealed about himself.  If we can do that, we won’t be disappointed.

For example, Jesus said he would be with us “always, until the end of the ages.”  But, at the same time, he speaks with a very quiet voice, and his steps are very light.  He doesn’t intrude.  But that doesn’t mean he’s not with us.  And in the Scriptures he shows himself to have a certain “power;” for example, with physical healing.  But he didn’t heal everyone he saw.  And even today he doesn’t heal every physical disease.  But that doesn’t mean he’s not trying to do some spiritual or emotional healing in a sick person.

We have our expectations of God, and that’s good.  But at the same time, our hearts and minds have to remain open to what he’s doing...because the one thing we can be certain of, is that God’s ways are not necessarily our ways.  With God, the one thing we can always expect is the unexpected.  Whatever God is doing, may we be simply thankful for that.    

Thursday, November 2, 2017

Homily for 2 Nov 2017

2 Nov 2017
All Souls Day

When you come inside and you have dirt on your shoes, what’s the first thing we hear?  “Take your shoes off!”  Especially now with all the falling leaves and then pretty soon with all the snow, we’ll hear that more often: “Take your shoes off before you come in!”  Or what about when it’s supper time...before you sit down at the table, you might hear somebody say, “Be sure to wash your hands first.” 

Before we come inside, before we sit down to eat, we get cleaned up.  And that’s how we can understand today’s Commemoration of All Souls.  When one of God’s sons or daughters dies, their soul goes to Heaven.  But Heaven is like going inside God’s house; it’s like sitting down at the table to eat with him and all the Saints and Angels.  And so, before the person goes into Heaven, they have to “take their shoes off” and “go wash up.”

Yesterday we celebrated All Saints—those people and angels who’ve already washed up and are in Heaven.  Today, however, we remember the souls of the faithful departed who are on “the doorstep of Heaven,” but are still getting cleaned up, getting ready to go in.  We pray for them today. 

In our Catholic Tradition, we call it “purgatory.”  And that’s a fancy word that simply means “a place of cleansing.”  When we “purge” ourselves, it means we get rid of anything we don’t want.  You know, whenever you clean out your closets, or you clean out your desks, you get rid of all the stuff you don’t want.  It’s like when you wash your hands; you get rid of all the dirt and germs, and wash them down the drain.  We “purge” ourselves; we “cleanse” ourselves.  That’s where we get the word “purgatory.”  Before we step into Heaven, we get all cleaned up.

And, really, to be in purgatory is a good thing.  When someone dies, we hope that their soul goes either right through the doors of Heaven, or that they’re at least at the doorstep of Heaven...”taking their shoes off and getting all washed up” so they can go into the feast of Heaven.  That’s what we pray for today.  But we pray with faith and hope, because God is a very merciful and loving God.  He wants us all to be with him, and all his Angels and Saints in Heaven.  And he even gives us practice at getting all cleaned up.

Whenever we come here to Mass, and we approach God and “sit down at his table,” the altar, what’s the first thing we do?  We dip our hands in the holy water, and then we “acknowledge our sins” and ask God to make us clean.  When get ourselves ready so we can enjoy the feast God has prepared for us—the feast of Sacred Scripture, the feast of his Body and Blood, and the enjoyment of being with each other in God’s house.  Right here at the start of Mass, we practice getting all “cleaned up” before enjoying the good things of God.

We pray for our brothers and sisters who have died, and are in that place of cleansing.  They’re on Heaven’s doorstep, which is a wonderful place to be.  May they soon enter the heavenly feast, and enjoy the company of all the Angels and the Saints.

Tuesday, October 31, 2017

Homily for 31 Oct 2017

31 Oct 2017

“The sufferings of this present time are as nothing compared to the glory to be revealed for us.”  Saint Paul sounds pretty confident about this future “glory.”  And he should be.  After all, he encountered Christ, the King of Glory, who died after suffering the Cross...but rose again and came to him.  Saint Paul had every reason to speak confidently about this future glory that awaits us.  In fact, this is how we Christians understand “hope.” 

Now to Jesus’ listeners, there was no doubt that a mustard seed would grow into a huge plant; there was no doubt that yeast would make dough rise.  And that’s how it is with the Kingdom and the glory of Heaven.  There’s absolutely no doubt that it will come, and that it will be a good and glorious thing when it does.  But this isn’t a matter of faith; it’s a matter of hope.

We Christians are a people of hope, but not just any kind of hope.  We live with “sure and certain” hope.  Even if we don’t know all the details of “the glory to be revealed for us,” there’s no doubt that it will come.  We are “sure and certain” about that.  And we have this confident hope because, like St Paul, we have also encountered Christ.

He’s revealed his glory to us by speaking his divine Word in Scripture, he shares his glory with us in the Eucharist, he lives within us and raises our spirits by the gift of his Holy Spirit.  Jesus said, “I am with you always, until the end of the ages.”  And he is.  He is trustworthy.  If there is glory to come, we believe him.  Our faith in him leads to hope—a confident hope.

Friday, October 27, 2017

Homily for 27 Oct 2017

27 Oct 2017

When Jesus came and lived among people, it was like he was putting a mirror in front of them.  When we look at him, we should see ourselves.  Jesus is our standard.  Often times, though, when we look in the mirror we see a person who falls short of that standard.  And that’s what St Paul saw.

When he looked at himself, he saw his own goodness, but he could also see his sins and weakness.  But his response wasn’t to get down on himself.  Instead, he says, “Thanks be to God.”  Thanks be to God we have our conscience.  Thanks be to God for the gifts of humility and self honesty.  Thanks be to God that he is merciful and loving; in spite of our sins and failings, he still adores his children. 

And that’s different from how other people can sometimes treat us.  How often have we made a mistake, only to have it used against us?  Hence, Jesus’ warning in the gospel today about who we let be our judges.  Others may use our sins against us; God never does. 

St Paul was a sinner, and he knew it.  But he also knew he was loved by God.  God judged him—and he judges us—worthy of his divine affection.  We look at ourselves and we see our own goodness.  We also see our sins, but we don’t dwell on them.  Instead, we dwell on that other image in the mirror, the image of Jesus.  And, like St Paul, we thank God that “while we are yet sinners, he loves us.” 

“Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ.”  Thanks be to God, our loving and merciful judge.

Tuesday, October 24, 2017

Homily for 24 Oct 2017

24 Oct 2017

“Obedience” has a negative sound to it.  But, really, the word means “to listen;” to listen attentively, and even to have a respectful conversation.  It isn’t about “do or die;” it’s more like: “Be quiet, listen, I have something important to show you.”  And, of course, that’s what God asks of us—to be quieter inside, so we can listen to him...attentively.

It sounds so simple, and yet it is a challenge.  How many of us have thoughts running through our head all day long (it seems)?  How many of us, if something is bothering us, will just let it sit inside us and keep us from being at peace?  And then there’s so much of our culture which expects us to be busy, busy, busy.  It’s a challenge to be quiet in our minds and in our hearts.  But if we want to hear what God has to tell us, it’s a challenge we take up.

The first word of the Rule of St. Benedict is: “Listen...listen, my child, to the precepts of your master Teacher.”  That really is the start of the spiritual life—listening attentively, learning to be quiet inside so we can hear God’s whisperings.  And he whispers sweet things to his friends, sometimes challenging things, but always, always good things.

The next time we go to pray, maybe start with our psalm from today: “Here I am, Lord; I come to do your will.  Here I am, Lord.”  And then be quiet.  Listen.  Let God do the talking.