My Kingdom Does Not Belong to This World

Homily for the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ,  King of the Universe, 2012

There are two ways we can understand the idea of not belonging to the world, aren’t there?  In a first way, which is rather superficial, we might think of not belonging as not being present, being foreign, separate or distant.  And if this were the sense in which Jesus was speaking in today’s Gospel, as we imagine his attendants who he says are not of this world, we might think of countless hosts of angels all in battle armor standing on the sidelines, held in check by God the Father even as Christ is speaking to Pilate.  But I think that is the wrong image for this scene.

And that is because there is a second way and much more profound way in which Christ speaks about not belonging to this world throughout the Gospels.  In John’s Gospel, he tells his disciples that while it is true that they live in the world, they do not belong to the world, they belong to their heavenly Father.  That, as St. Paul says, their citizenship, our citizenship is in heaven.  We often express this simply by saying that Christians must live in the world but cannot be of the world.  And this way of being in but not belonging bears some thought as we try to understand Christ our King and his kingdom.

In the first place, this sense of not belonging to this world makes it clear that Christ’s kingdom is certainly not absent.  Far from it!  What did Christ preach continuously throughout the hills of Judea and Samaria?  The Kingdom of God is at hand.  And in Luke’s Gospel, our Lord speaks very clearly: “Asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God would come, he said in reply, “The coming of the kingdom of God cannot be observed, and no one will announce, ‘Look, here it is,’ or, ‘There it is.’ For behold, the kingdom of God is among you.”

So it is undeniable that Christ’s kingdom is here – it’s real, it is in this world.
But it doesn’t belong to this world.  In other words, it is not contained by this world, limited by this world; it is not external and comprehensible; it is not a mere passing earthly kingdom like other kingdoms.  Christ’s dominion is God’s dominion and we know that God’s ways are not our ways, his thoughts are not our thoughts.  So Christ's kingdom is not like our kingdoms, and Christ is a King unlike any earthly king.

Pilate asked Christ:  “So you are a king?” And how did Christ respond?  “You say that I am a king.  For this I was born and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth.”

Pilate does not understand the true kingdom and so he doesn't understand the kingship of Christ. Because Jesus does not visibly demonstrate his power, does not force others do his will, Pilate does not take him seriously.  He only believes in kingdoms that are ruled from thrones, that are governed by coercion, fear and oppression. A king without a castle? Without an army?  Without a treasury?  “Ah, that kind of a king,” we can imagine him smirking, “The king of the little blue people who came here from another planet?  Yeah, we have a special place for ‘kings’ like you.”

Pilate sees the world in only one way: in external, worldly expressions of power.  Earthly power is what motivated him.  His desire for earthly power is what brought him to his position, and the fear of losing it drove him to stand back and watch as Christ, who he knew was innocent, was led away to be crucified.  He could not see beyond earthly kingdoms.  The only Kings that mattered to him were those who had control over your life, your possessions, your reputation, your comfort.    Earthly kings.  Vague notions of a mysterious kingdom of God that could only be spoken of in parables and metaphor seemed to him an escape from the real world and of no real practical use or consequence.  Real kings and real kingdoms demonstrate real power in the real world.  So thought Pilate.

But Christ came to testify to the truth.  And what is the truth?  That earthly power is an illusion.  That all of these people and assets and stuff that earthly rulers try to push around and control externally, from above as if they were little gods – they are horribly deceived.  They are moving around mere shadows and fictions.  Their power, their glory and honor, their wealth and might, even their legacies: it is all earthly vanity and chase after wind.  Beneath all of this superficial power brokering and greed and ambition, quietly and powerfully and beautifully holding all things in existence is the real Kingdom.  The Kingdom of God.  It is a kingdom not ruled externally, not ruled by force, not treating subjects as objects, but a Kingdom that is sustained and built and grows from within through the sacrificial love of God that dwells within his creation and is drawing all things to himself.  A kingdom that is spread far and wide not by conquering armies, but by the converted hearts of saints who serve the poor and the needy.  That is defended not by strong walls of stone, but by the steadfast love of its citizens, who freely and generously seek first not to be served, but to serve others.  That is sustained not by earthly waters and lands and resources, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God, and by the mysteries, the sacraments of his love.  Christ is the king of this only true and lasting kingdom, God’s dominion over the whole created order of time and space.  And Christ reigns  not by subjecting creation to himself, but by subjecting himself, emptying himself and giving his life to sustain and unite all of creation in one eternal offering to our Heavenly Father.  The reign of Christ is the reign of sacrificial love, the love of God outpoured, the true source and origin of all life.

And so as we look once more at the scene of our Gospel, at Christ the King of Sacrificial Love who stands before Pontius Pilate, where are the King’s attendants?  Were they tensely standing by in the clouds of heaven, just itching to be set free so that they could strike down Pilate and save their king?  No – that is what the attendants to an earthly kingdom and an earthly king would do.

Instead, the attendants of Christ’s kingdom, the kingdom of God, took their lead from their king.  And as their king mounted the true throne of the universe, the Cross on Calvary, they stood steadfast in prayer, united to their Lord in mind and heart, praying with him that all would be one, offering their lives to the Father in one communion of sacrificial love.  Mary, our Lord’s mother, certainly is the first of these attendants, she who quietly accompanied her son with her heart and mind along his royal way of love.  And all of the saints have likewise attended to Christ as they have striven diligently to be more closely unified to his life-giving sacrifice of love in the often mundane and simple tasks of daily life.

At this Mass we stand once more at the threshold of the throne of the true king, we stand before Calvary, before Christ’s sacrifice of love.  We are his attendants, his beloved sons and daughters who he has summoned before him to be one people, one Church, one kingdom.  But we must remember what he has taught us: Christ’s throne and kingdom do not belong to this world, are not of this world, and nor do we who attend to his throne belong to this world.  Our mission is not to go out and overpower our enemies as earthly kingdoms do; it is to love our enemies and to do good to those who persecute us.  It is to serve the widow and the orphan, to give generously to the poor and the suffering.  It is to love one another as Christ, our king, has loved us by offering his life for us.

May we be faithful attendants to Christ our King: steadfast at his side as he works for the good of all people from the throne of the universe, the throne of sacrificial love.

God Will Invade

Homily for the 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time, 2012

As we reach the end of the liturgical year, it is our Catholic tradition to spend these days reflecting on the end times.  It’s kind of strange territory, this apocalyptic terrain.  The prophetic books of the Old Testament are filled with foreign and fantastical sounding images: strange animals with different parts, all these symbolic numbers, countless types of angels swirling around, heavenly hosts and trumpets sound, all kinds of things seem to be going on in the clouds and in the heavens - the whole scene seems very surreal.  Jesus’ teaching does little to dispel the mystery and fearsome quality of these last days, telling us of great tribulations, cosmic shifts, the heavens being shaken, and angelic hosts swiftly carrying out the commands of the Son of Man who has come to bring justice and peace to this world.  On many occasions Jesus warned his disciples that the end will come upon us like a thief in the night, when we least expect, and that many, many people will be terrified and entirely overwhelmed by the experience.  They will be in utter shock, caught as if sleeping.  This teaching of Christ about the end times, which is echoed by St. Paul and the early fathers of the Church, is too consistent and insistent for us to simply acknowledge it with a vague notion that we should live each day as if it were our last.

That would be like hearing an air raid siren and concluding “Ah, isn’t that nice – they want us to make sure that we have a roof over our heads.”  or listening to the emergency broadcast system announce a tsunami and saying “I guess I’ll wear a life jacket while I’m out fishing.”  In fact, what should be disconcerting to us when we hear Christ and the apostles speak about the end times is that it seems most people will be completely unprepared.

And that doesn't seem too far fetched   How many of us are confident that if all of a sudden the stars began to fall from the sky and angelic hosts swept down from heaven, even though Jesus explicitly told us this would happen, we would not be completely surprised out of our minds?  “Oh my goodness!  It actually is real!  Like really real!”  That seems to be the response that Jesus indicates many people will have: one of utter disbelief even as they see with their own eyes the truth conquering this world of shadows.  They will feel as if they were waking from a dream, all of a sudden the shades will fall away and they will see that they have been dwelling in darkness – the light of Christ will be like a blinding fire that seers their eyes, their ears will ring with strange celestial sounds, and they will find themselves face to face with the living God.

In an instant, scientific laws that seemed so hard and fast will appear to be fictions; our greatest accomplishments in this world will look like projects in a child’s sandbox.  Angels and Archangels and myriads of Seraphim and Cherubim will appear in a splendor and majesty that takes our breath away and makes our frail nature look like dust.  And from our midst it will be the little ones, the poor, the meek, the lowly, the persecuted who will shine likes stars in the sky,  revealed in their glory, their heroic battles celebrated, their great victories exalted.

We know these things, brothers and sisters – they have been revealed to us, they are not mere fictions, they are not simply convenient ways of thinking about heaven so that we are motivated to do the right thing on earth.

“We did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ,” St. Peter wrote to the early Christians, “but we had been eyewitnesses of his majesty.  We ourselves heard the voice come from heaven while we were with him on the holy mountain.  Moreover, we possess the prophetic message that is altogether reliable. You will do well to be attentive to it, as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.”

These are not cleverly devised myths, but a prophetic message that is altogether reliable.  The prophet Daniel tells us this morning that when the clouds part, when the shadows are dispelled “The wise shall shine brightly like the splendor of the firmament, and those who lead the many to justice shall be like the stars forever."

Christ brings to completion the revelation of this wisdom from above.  And he sends us out as witnesses to that wisdom, to be a light to others, helping them to see beyond the phantoms and idols of this world, to see that we have been chosen in Christ to be sons and daughters of the living God and to one day receive our true inheritance, when Christ returns and gathers us into his heavenly kingdom.  The Triune God dwells with us now sacramentally, in mystery, working through us to prepare all of humanity for that final consummation.  The stakes are high, the work is urgent, in our efforts to be more and more personally converted to Christ each day, and also in our efforts to encourage and support conversion of heart in those who are dear to us, and in our society.  In his book, Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis reflected on these last days, and I will close with his words:

“God will invade. But I wonder whether people who ask God to interfere openly and directly in our world quite realize what it will be like when He does. When that happens, it is the end of the world. When the author walks on to the stage the play is over. God is going to invade, all right: but what is the good of saying you are on His side then, when you see the whole natural universe melting away like a dream and something else - something it never entered your head to conceive - comes crashing in; something so beautiful to some of us and so terrible to others that none of us will have any choice left? For this time it will God without disguise; something so overwhelming that it will strike either irresistible love or irresistible horror into every creature. It will be too late then to choose your side. There is no use saying you choose to lie down when it has become impossible to stand up. That will not be the time for choosing; it will be the time when we discover which side we really have chosen, whether we realized it before or not. Now, today, this moment, is our chance to choose the right side. God is holding back to give us that chance. It will not last forever. We must take it or leave it.”

Deception, Division, and Shame

Discussion of Sin and Evil for the High School Journey Retreat, November 16, 2012

The purpose of our conversation about sin this morning is not to make you feel guilty – that may happen, but it’s not my main goal – my main goal is to help you to identify the chains that bind you so that you can be more open to God’s mercy and love and be more deeply converted to Christ, who wants to give you his joy and peace.  Jesus is our divine physician, but in order for him to do surgery (confession) he must first help us to identify the areas that are sick.  So it’s important to get this straight right from the beginning: we Catholics talk about sin because we love one another and want the best for one another, no other reason. 

The first thing to note is that sin is not something that just evil and bad people do.  In fact, we all have a tendency to sin.  St. Paul said that in one of his letters: “Why do I do what I don’t want to do?”  And I think we have all asked that question more than once, right?  “What was I thinking?  How did I let that happen?  You idiot… idiot… idiot!”  Every one of us, every human being seems to share this trait: they don’t always want what is good and true and beautiful, or at least they don’t always want it as much as they should. So we have to ask – well how is it that good people, people who want to follow God and do his will are still capable of making some very bad choices?  What is wrong with us? 

Original sin.  C.S. Lewis said that the existence of original sin is one of the doctrines of the Church that is easiest to prove.  God has revealed in the teaching on original sin why it is that we contain this division within ourselves: our nature is corrupted: God made us in his image and likeness with a plan that we would use our freedom as he does: to live in love.  But Adam and Eve were deceived by the evil one, and instead of the tree of freedom and life that God had given them to eat from, they chose to eat from the tree of self-love. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t stop with them.  We still live in a fallen world, a world that rebels against God – and we all have to admit that there is a part of each of us that rebels against God too. 

What happens when we rebel?  We are blinded, we are divided, and we are accused.  That’s what sin does: it blinds us, divides us, and accuses us.  This is the work of the evil one, who St. Peter says is like a roaring lion who prowls about this world looking for someone to devour the way that he went after Adam and Eve: he is the deceiver, he is the divider, and he is the accuser.  And we can see him at work right from the beginning of creation.  Think about Genesis for a moment.  The first sign of evil is the serpent, who deceives Eve, making her think that disobeying God would make her happy.  After they eat from the wrong tree, what is the first thing that happens?  Instead of walking beside God in the garden, they hide from him, they are divided from God.  Soon after, Adam and Eve turn on one another “She made me do it.”  Divided against each other.  And they can’t stand being naked – they are even divided in themselves, they feel ashamed before God.  It is a three-fold division, from God, from one another, and even in their very selves.  And lastly, they are ashamed to be with God, they feel accused even though it is not God who accuses them but the evil one.  And so they separate from him, they no longer feel that God is their Father who loves them, but instead they hide from him like you would hide from someone you fear.  The accuser has gotten a hold of them. 

So, if we’re going to allow the Lord Jesus to free us from sin, to free us from the grip of the evil one, we have to first look at where he might have gotten a hold on us.  Where we have allowed deception, division, and accusation to creep in and make us resistant to God’s work in our lives.

Deception 

Christ, as we know, is the Way and the Truth and the Life.  He comes to reveal God’s will to us and to dispel the darkness of that comes from sin.  But we have to ask him to dispel that darkness and we have to be open to the purifying fire of his grace that will show us our sins and help us to see ourselves clearly. 

The evil one, the deceiver, doesn’t want us to see our sins or to recognize how seriously they bind us and keep us from being able to respond to God.  He wants us to be content, or at least to not struggle too much or cry out for help.  And so he works to dull our consciences, to dull our sense of right and wrong, to give us all kinds of reasons why we should not worry too much about following God’s will or finding out what God wants of us. 

I think the most common way the devil gets us is by tricking us into comparing ourselves with other people, letting the people around us form our consciences, instead of allowing our conscience to be formed by Christ.  We look at others, and we see some who seem to be very good and some who seem to be not so good.  Mother Teresa over here, and maybe Hitler over there – so I guess I’m somewhere in the middle here – basically a good person.  So… well God isn’t going to send all these people in the middle to hell, right?  So if we’re just better than most people we should be okay – just be a good person.  We hear that a lot – he or she is a good person.  Well wait a minute.  Jesus didn’t say “Go and be a good person.”  He said, “Go and sin no more.” He said “Take up your cross and follow me.”  He made it very clear that the person we are not supposed to be looking around at others to figure out what we should be doing, not even the Pope or Mother Teresa (although they would certainly help us out), but that we should first look to him, follow his example, that we should love one another as he has loved us. 

So we have to resist the deceiver who would like us to think that what is right and wrong is based on what other people think or on what is acceptable in our society.  What is right and wrong is based on God’s will, and Jesus is the one who lived in complete obedience to God’s will and shows us how to follow the will of the Father.  So that is why it is so important that we pray and work to get to know Jesus Christ so that he can form our consciences to be like his, so that we can see the truth and not be deceived.

Another deception of the evil one is this: he tries to make us think that sin makes life more interesting, more of an adventure.  That it kind of spices things up.  Kind of like flirting – that we think that it’s kind of fun to flirt with sin.  And we might have the sense: “Hey, what harm is there in it?  As long as we’re not going home together for the night, right?”  “Besides, whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”  “If I just have a little fun then I won’t be tempted to really be unfaithful.”  Hmmm…  That sounds kind of nice, if you were not married, and if you were flirting with some great and honorable guy or girl… but let’s think about this: Christ has died for us, given his life for us, showing us a love that is greater than any earthly husband or wife can ever give, so being faithful to him… well, that seems important, right?  Why would we even go there?  And furthermore, flirting with sin is like flirting with a dirty old man – and dirty old men are all the same.  Sin is boring.  It is virtue that makes life interesting.  Again, watch out for the deceiver!

Another trap that I want to mention as well about being deceived.  How easy it is sometimes to subconsciously let our consciences be formed by what we have done or want to do, instead of letting our consciences determine what we do and what we want.  Maybe we’ve been more sexually active with a girlfriend or boyfriend than we should.  We try to say that certain things are okay if you love someone or if you are committed to them.  Slowly we start to change our mind about what we think is okay or not okay – based not on Jesus’ example, but on what we have done.  We don’t want to feel guilty, to acknowledge that we have sinned – it is tempting to just change our definition of sin so that we don’t have to worry about it. 

So, the first thing we have to fight are the deceptions of the evil one, we have to seek the truth about what is right and wrong – not forming our consciences the way we want or the way that works best in our world, but allowing our consciences to be formed by Christ who teaches us the way to the Father.

Division

But even if we know what is right and wrong, the battle isn’t over, right?  Far from it!  And this is where we have to look at the tactics of the evil one and where he tries to cut us off from God, from one another, and from our very selves. 

The source of strength for the Christian is our relationship with Christ, and it is this relationship that we have to guard with everything in us.  The evil one tries to keep us from God continually.  In our day in particular it is with distractions.  He does not want us thinking about God too much in the day, meditating on Christ’s life and his example to us.  It is in this area of loving God that we often commit the most serious sins, not only because they offend God, but also because when we don’t work to love God we become incapable of loving others.  If we no longer are worshipping God, chances are that we are worshipping ourselves.  Yet how easy it is to start to grow slack in our efforts to love God, to pass on prayer times or to not take the time of prayer seriously.  To go through Sunday Mass without really working to offer ourselves to God, and not to take our observation of the Lord’s day seriously. 

We can become content with a superficial knowledge of Christ, never talking with him, never listening to him in the scriptures, never deepening our understanding of his teaching by reading the documents of the Church or the lives of the Saints.  And then we wonder why our hearts begin to grow cold, why Mass doesn’t do anything for us, why we don’t feel close to God.  The divider has gotten in the way and succeeded in keeping us from our God.  Staying close to God, intimate with him, loving him with our whole heart and soul and mind and strength, which is the greatest commandment – is probably also the hardest commandment to follow, and requires the most effort of any commandment we have to follow.  It’s probably in this area that we should have the most things to confess: our lack of love for God, our lack of respect and reverence for him, how little we think of him each day and seek his will in all things.  How quickly we give ourselves a pass and move on to think about stupid trivial things, our own selfish daydreams and fantasies.  But it is being close to God that will give us happiness and peace, that is what our hearts truly long for, just to rest in him. 

When our hearts don’t rest in God, we also tend to not love others as we should, right?  And that is the other area that the divider seeks to exploit.  He works to separate us from one another.  How easy it is to get so focused on what others are doing for us, or not doing, instead of focusing on how we can serve them.  Yet isn’t that what Jesus tells us again and again: whoever wishes to be first among you must be the servant of all.  Whatever you do to the least of these, you have done for me.  How quickly we forget…  An easy way to tell how we’re doing on this one is to see if we just spend time around people who are easy to be around.  What about our younger siblings or older relatives?  What about the elderly neighbor who is alone all day?  Or do we just sit around with the same friends who make us feel good?  Jesus challenges us to seek out the lost and those who are abandoned.  He says that if we do good to those who do good to us there is no merit in that – criminals do the same.  That we should do good to those who persecute us, who are out to get us.  How much would our world change if we listened to Christ and followed his example?  If we unplugged from all of our gadgets and tried to help those around us, to really understand them and love them?  Do we just call friends to say hello, do we work to be loyal and trustworthy friends?  Enjoy healthy time together, hobbies and common interests and team sports and activities?  Do we listen to our parents and to honor them, trying to understand them and love them and serve them.  If we didn’t speak about others unless we were saying the good things that others need to hear, as St. Paul teaches us?  And just to put up with annoying things.. to see the annoying traits of others as an opportunity to give our hearts a work out, to strengthen our capacity to love by loving those who are difficult to love.  Trying to overlook faults and flaws, to think the best of others and trying to anticipate their needs.  How do we think of other people?   Jesus tells us that we fall into sin not only when we do physical harm, but even in thinking maliciously or lustfully of others.  We are supposed to treat others as we would treat Jesus himself. 

And finally, sin causes division in our own selves.  St. Paul teaches us that we have to treat our bodies and our minds as temples, as sanctuaries.  After all, Christ has chosen to make his home with us, right – in fact our body is not really our own – in baptism we have died to ourselves, now we belong to Christ.  So we have to be attentive not to allow a continual stream of junk and clutter into our minds and bodies and daily routines.  Are we spending all kinds of time with mindless entertainment? 

Our minds were given to us as a gift to be developed for the service of God and others, not just to veg out.  You can’t love someone while watching tv or you tube.  Technology itself is not good or evil, but it is easy to be selfish and wasteful of our time.  It’s easy to become mentally and physically lazy, to lose our curiosity and interest in the good things that God has placed before us, to start to just walk through life as if in a daze, caught up in our own little world, walking right by people who are suffering or in need.  If we’re not working to know and love and enjoy being with others, then what are we doing?  We cannot allow our minds to be so distracted that we don’t have time to think and pray each day – and that means that we need some quiet time.  And also that we need to get a good amount of sleep and try to eat in a way that will keep us healthy and alert. 

So – in the fight against sin, we must fight the evil one who is constantly trying to divide us from God, from others, and from ourselves.  It is a battle, and often we fail.  And when we do, we have to be careful that we do not fall victim to another tactic of the evil one: his accusation.

Shame

When we recognize our sins, we see what is right and wrong and see how far we are from following it, the evil one is quick to try to jump in and accuse us before God.  “You are a hypocrite, you’re not even sorry.”  “You don’t belong here.”  “This is too hard, you don’t have the strength.”  “You are too far gone.”  Anything to try to keep you from running back to the arms of your heavenly Father.  That is why Jesus told us so many parables about the lost sheep or the lost coin or the prodigal son, or so many others – he knew that we have a tendency to listen to the accuser, to doubt that God can really forgive us, that we can really change.  Instead, Jesus wants us to have the experience that Zacchaeus had: remember he climbed the tree to see Christ as he was passing by?  And he listened to him and allowed his conscience to be formed by Christ’s teaching, he accepted what Jesus said was right and wrong.  And Jesus saw his repentance even from a distance off and then he invited himself over for dinner.  And Zacchaeus was so happy that he just started talking about all the ways that he could give things away, how he could serve others.  His life took on meaning again.  He was free.  His sins did not hang over him like a dark cloud or make him feel distant from God – he was just grateful and joyful and happy to be with Christ.

Jesus wants all of us to have this same experience of repentance and conversion – not just once, but again and again throughout our lives.  He desires that we ascend the tree of life, the cross, as Zacchaeus did, listening to him and being strengthened by his grace that comes to us in word and sacrament to lift us from our sins.  When we accept the cross, the tree of life, when we humble ourselves and follow the will of the Father, Christ comes to us and is able to gradually free us from sin, from selfishness and give us the joy and peace that come from serving him and our brothers and sisters. 

Let us pray today for the courage to listen to Christ and to let him form our consciences, to teach us what is right and wrong, what is true and false.  May his grace help us to honestly look at our lives in the light of the gospel, to squarely face our sins, trusting that God’s grace and love and mercy conquers all things.  Today allow Christ to encourage you: not to be afraid but to confidently approach him and ask for his forgiveness.  Christ has come for us sinners, to save us, to rescue us, and to give us true freedom that comes from being his sons and daughters who are fully alive and whole and at peace with our heavenly Father, with one another, and in ourselves. 

As If The Things of This World Were Meant to Be Eternal!

Homily for the 32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time, 2012

Our first reading introduces us to a widow in crisis.  Her words reflect her despair: “I was collecting a couple of sticks to go and prepare something for myself and my son; when we have eaten it, we shall die."  She sounds entirely defeated – overwhelmed and overcome by the desperation of her situation. 

While we may not have faced circumstances that are as severe as the widow, we can all identify to an extent, at least, with her exasperation, can’t we?  With that feeling that more is being asked than we can give:  A co-worker is saying something outrageous for the thousandth time.  A baby is up again screaming in the middle of the night.  The project that is due in a few hours was erased from the hard drive.  Illness or old age has made a simple task into an ordeal.  Someone is yelling because despite best intentions the ball was dropped.  A loved one deprives us of their affection and leaves us feeling alone and unwanted.  

In those dark moments, life can begin to appear to us to be just a prolonged experience of having things taken away.  Take, take, take – why is God taking everything away that I care about?  Doesn’t he love me?

It was into this kind of desperation that Isaiah entered when he encountered that poor widow in Zarephath.  With gentleness, he reassured the widow:  “Do not be afraid – instead of clinging to what you love, who you love – give what is asked by God and trust that your sacrifice will not be in vain, you will not be abandoned in your need.”

And we need this gentle encouragement, don’t we? 

Because how easy it is to begin to cling to the things of this world, the gifts we have been given, as if they were meant to be eternal!  How easily this gravely mistaken, this irrational expectation, can sneak its way into the back of our minds.  And when it does, increasingly the many gifts we receive from our loving Father become a source of agony and pain.  God’s gifts to us in this world are temporary - a mere foreshadowing, a preparation for the eternal life, for the great gifts that he has in store for us,  that he wants to give us.  And so when we cling, we cling to nothing but shadows, to sand that slips between our fingers.  And what results?  Anger and frustration and bitterness and resentment start to take hold.  Fear and anxieties begin to overshadow the experience of life.   And often a kind of denial sets in:  a life occupied by mindless entertainment, gossip, small-talk, and political junkying , escape to the sensual and self-medication  - anything to avoid the passing reality of this world.

Yet the more we cling or try to avoid letting go, the more we are deprived of peace.  And our faith is seriously compromised because rather than perceiving God as he truly is, the giver of all good gifts, the things of this world distort our sight so that God is perceived as a threat to happiness, the one who takes away what we love and destroys what we cherish.

Jesus is the truth and the light: he comes to free us from the deceptions of the evil one and to show us the truth about this passing world.  In the Gospel today Jesus encourages us, he seeks to inspire us to follow the true way to the Father, the way to find lasting joy in this life.   He teaches us that the earthly gifts that God gives us are not meant to be clung to, as if they contained within themselves the key to  happiness, but that they are meant to be freely offered back to our Father in love and so become a means of participation in the love of the Triune God and source of lasting peace and joy for us. 

And so we see why Christ was so hard on the scribes and Pharisees: their actions demonstrated that their sacrifices, their pious and religious practices were superficial and not true offerings, that their hearts were still clinging to the things of this earth: to wealth, to reputation, to comfort or pleasure.  

They were offerings made in view of earthly success, not made for the love of God.  That is why in another place Jesus instructs us to make offerings, to pray and give alms in secret – because he wants us to have the joy that he has, the joy of a pure offering that is not tainted by self-interest.    True happiness is found in being able to offer God something personal, a real part of ourselves and to offer it to him and to him alone: and that is the joy that he wants us to have, the joy of his Son Jesus who offers his whole life to the Father for our salvation freely and without condition.  Body and Blood, soul and divinity, Jesus offers himself to the Father - not resenting his Father for the cross or us, his brothers and sisters who he heals and strengthens through his sacrifice.  No - he offers his life to the Father for us and it gives him joy to offer it because he loves us.  For Christ, the cross was an invitation, granted a painful and scary one, but an blessed invitation nonetheless, to show his love for the Father and for us.

That is what our Lord saw in those two small coins offered by the widow - love.  He saw behind the coins to her heart, her livelihood that she was offering freely to God.  And this from a woman from whom so much had already been taken. 

Yet she showed no signs of resentment: we can almost hear her speak the words of Job,  " the Lord gives, the Lord takes away, blessed be the name of the Lord."   Jesus saw in her heart a sharing in his own sacred heart, his own love of the Father.  The Scribes, the Pharisees, they were interested in what God could do for them in this world, in clinging to their titles and honor and comforts.  But they had no love for God, they placed nothing of themselves on the altar of sacrifice.  That is not the offering of a Christian, of that poor widow.  St. Paul teaches us in our second reading, Christ came to cleanse us and gather us into the true offering of his body: the one pure and holy and sacrifice of love he offered to the Father on the cross.

And so every time we offer the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass it must be personal.  And not only because we offer to the Father Christ's personal body and blood, soul and divinity.  But also because his offering, of his life to the Father, like the offering of the widow, challenges and motivates and invites each of us:  Will we work to freely offer our lives with him to the Father?  Will we allow his offering to engage us personally – will we respond to his example by laying what is asked of us before the foot of the cross?  Our hopes and dreams, our gifts and experiences, the crying baby in the middle of the night, the annoying co-worker, the frustrating homework, the lack of affection, the desire for comfort or esteem: whatever else we are tempted to cling to, from the little daily preferences even up to our very lives – will we bring all of that up here?  Everything in this world can be, and is made to be, offered to God in love.  Everything.  But he will not force us.  He wants us to follow the example of his Son, who freely offers his life on the cross in love.  May God give us the wisdom and strength and perseverance to not cling to this life, but to follow Christ and offer it: freely, joyfully, and with great love.

The Greatest Commandment

Homily for the 31st Sunday of Ordinary Time, 2012

This week I was listening to Catholic radio and the presenter was talking about how he often asks people this rather interesting question: “What do you think is the most serious sin?”  Most people, he has found, will say murder, or rape, or torture – some heinous crime against humanity.  But no – he argued, these are not the most serious of sins.  Instead, he said, we should first think about which is the greatest commandment, because if  you want to know the greatest sin, first you have to know the greatest commandment, right?  And we hear the answer in our Gospel today, don’t we: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength.”  Since this is the greatest commandment, when we fail to observe it, it follows that we commit the most grievous of sins.

But how can we not fail this first and greatest command?  ALL your heart, ALL your soul, ALL your mind, ALL your strength.  You can see why St. Paul said “all have sinned and are deprived of the glory of God.”  Who can say with a straight face that they observe the greatest commandment faithfully each day?  Even for an hour?  Yet, when we reach the end of our lives there should be no doubt, the question that Jesus will ask each of us is probably not “Did you kill anyone?” or “What did you steal?” or even “Have you been a good person?”, but “Do you love me?”  That’s what he asked St. Peter – “Do you love me?” –  Today he asks each of us: “Do you love me?.”

His question searches the heart, the mind, the will, the soul.  Our answer cannot just be a superficial matter of nice feelings, a kind of good will toward God – “Yeah, he’s a good guy and I like to talk to him from time to time…  like having him around.”  That’s not the kind of love he’s talking about – the kind of love we have for pizza or our favorite rock band.  He is asking whether we follow the greatest commandment: whether we love him with our whole selves.

Now, I have grown up in what we might call a rather rebellious age – and so in the back of my mind I immediately hear voices of protest:
Well, what if we don’t want to?  What if we want to love other things too?  Other people?  What gives God the right to demand ALL of our love?  Our mind and strength and heart… Doesn’t he respect us and want us to be ourselves?  Why would he ask everything from us, then?  It seems like a kind of slavery!

But wait.
What is the mind?  It is a gift from God that is made specifically by him to find its greatest joy in knowing and understanding him.  So commanding that we use the mind to love God is like commanding that we use a calculator for math.
What is the heart?  A gift from God made to be restless until it rests in him.  So commanding the heart to love God is like commanding that seeds be planted in the ground.
What is the strength, the will, if not a gift from God that is made to find peace and strength when it operates in union with God’s will?  Commanding that we use the will to love God is like commanding that a train follow the track.
What is the soul if not a gift from God: a spiritual substance made in his image and likeness dwelling within and giving life to our bodies?  Commanding that we love God with our soul is like commanding that that a fish swim or a duck quack or an eagle fly.

Slavery?  Far from it.  To love God with our whole heart and soul, mind and strength is also to know and love yourself.  We are made to love God with our whole selves: that’s what makes us fully human and capable of loving others.  The human person is only in order when his or her life is ordered toward God.  That’s how God made us.  And so his great command of love is given to us because he loves us and wants us to find joy and freedom in the fullness of our humanity.

But I think we also need to look at another, very basic truth here.  There is a God, and we are not God.  For most of us it would seem that this truth goes without saying.  But so many in our culture seem to have forgotten that we are creatures, that we aren't in charge.  Who says you can’t be a god?  You can be anything you want to be, right?  We live in a time when we are encouraged to act as if we were little gods from an early age, pretending that we have the right and ability to determine when human life is sacred, to define for ourselves basic human relationships, and to decide when actions are morally right and wrong, as if God had not already determined and defined and decided all of these things.  As if there were no plan for us, no purpose for human life, no destiny that awaits us.  As if our world were a blank chalk board that we can just write on, making up reality as we go, determining for ourselves what is right and true and good.

The first and greatest commandment is a sobering reality for our culture: the Lord our God is Lord alone.  We do not have the right or the ability to make ourselves according to our own imaginings and dreams.  We are made in the image and likeness of God – we are his people and he is our God.  He has made us and we belong to him.

Why are we here offering ourselves to him at Mass with Christ? Why do we pray, why do we follow his commandments?  Certainly because in loving God we find joy and we are given the hope of eternal joy with him forever in heaven.  Yet at a very basic level, isn't is also simply a matter of respect?  Of respect and honor - of our duty as his creatures?  He has given us everything, he made us and upholds us.  Can we, in good conscience, refuse him anything when everything we have is from him?

We All Need Priests

Reflection for Priesthood Sunday Holy Hour, Oct. 27, 2012

This weekend many parishes across the united states are observing priesthood Sunday, a Sunday that gives us the opportunity to reflect on the importance of priestly ministry and to encourage young men to be open to responding to the call to follow Christ as ordained priests.

Priesthood Sunday is relatively new, I think we’ve only observed it on the last weekend of October for a decade or so.  And that is because as scandals erupted about 10 years ago, many Catholics saw that there was a great need to support good priests and to encourage good men to become priests.  Because as Catholics we experience the presence and ministry of Christ in a very personal and critical way through the ministry of our priests.  Through the human voices of our priests we hear the eternal words of Christ in our earthly ears “this is my body, given up for you”, “I absolve you from your sins.”  Every priest is ordained to embody Christ in caring for the Church as a groom cares for his bride and as a father cares for his children.  So we need good and holy and healthy priests, priests who can bring us closer to God and to one another through their ministry.

Now, I am a priest, so it might seem strange for me to speak about the importance of good priests in the third person.  But it is important for all of you to remember that I rely heavily on the ministry of priests too.  First of all on the ministry of the bishop, who embodies the fullness of the priesthood for all of us in Maine.  His ministry is incredibly important for all of us, and certainly for me as a priest of the diocese.  The bishop is responsible for my well-being, for my training and studies, and for keeping me in line – and not just me, but every priest and deacon in the diocese.  So the ministry of our chief shepherd, our bishop, is critical and we should all be praying every day for our new bishop, that he is a holy and wise man.  But we have to pray not only for our bishop, but for all of the priests of our diocese.  Because I am also, like you, in need of the ministry of good priests.  I can’t absolve myself of my own sins, as much as I've thought that would be nice sometimes, not to mention convenient.  And when I go to confession, it’s important to me that I receive good counsel and encouragement, just as it is important to all of you.  And I am very much in need of the guidance and encouragement of brother priests as I work to serve the Church, especially being the young’un that I am.  Jesus sent the disciples out two by two for a reason: priests need the support of other priests in order to be healthy and faithful in their ministry.

So we all rely on the ministry of priests, and having good priests is critical to having a healthy Church.  I know many of you are worried about the priesthood today – troubled by where we find ourselves: with so few priests compared to years ago and so many priests today seem worn out.  And to be honest, there have been days when I have found myself more than a little anxious as I looked at the aging ranks of priests in Maine.

But then the clouds part a bit and I remember that Jesus has promised us that he will be with us to the end of the age.  He has not abandoned his Church in 2000 years and he will not leave us without the priests that we need.  And there are many positive developments today – especially in other parts of our country.  In my alma mater, the North American College in Rome, they have had to increase capacity and turn away men – over 250 seminarians from the United States are currently studying for the priesthood.  There has been a gradual increase in the number of men in the major seminary over the last two decades up to 3,700, which is the largest number since 1989.  If you look at the big picture in the United States, the number of ordinations to the priesthood bottomed out in the early 90s and has remained steady and grown a little since then.
 And the average age of men entering the priesthood has declined in recent years, so that today only ¼ of men entering the seminary are over the age of 35, down  from almost a third in the 1980s and 90s.  So while the overall number of priests continues to drop as the large number of baby boomer priests retire, there is reason to be hopeful about the future numbers of priests, we just need to get through the next couple of decades.

That is good news for young men who are wondering whether they may be called to the priesthood.  We can tell them with confidence today: you will not be alone in ministry, you will not be shackling yourself  to a sinking ship.  No, the priesthood of Jesus Christ is essential for the health and well-being of Christ’s body the Church, and so the Lord makes sure that there are priests to minister to his people.  This is not a time in which the role of the priest in the Church can or should be diminished.  In our time of increased efforts to re-evangelize areas that were once Christian in the West, priest must play a critical role.  I will close with the words of our bishops who gathered recently in a synod to discuss the New Evangelization:

“Confronted with the scandals affecting priestly life and ministry, which we deeply regret, we propose nevertheless that thanks and encouragement be given to the faithful service of so many priests and that pastoral orientations be given to the particular churches on a presbyteral pastoral plan that is systematic and organized, that supports the genuine renewal of the life and ministry of the priests, who are the primary agents of the New Evangelization.”

We Are Made to Find Joy as Suffering Servants

Homily for the 29th Sunday of Ordinary Time, 2012

Today’s first reading from Isaiah probably sounded familiar to many of you.  It is part of a passage that is read on Good Friday, that we have come to know as the prophecy of the Suffering Servant.  Christians immediately recognized that Jesus Christ, particularly in his passion and death, embodied the man spoken of centuries earlier by Isaiah.  It was not a great leap to make the connection: the suffering servant described by Isaiah would silently and without anger bear upon his shoulders the guilt of the many and like a lamb be led to the slaughter.

What comes to our minds when we picture the suffering servant?  I imagine that the scene looks pretty miserable.  He is bent over and looks defeated and weak.  His beard is all scraggly – a travesty.  And he is skinny, because miserable people are always skinny.  His face looks forlorn as he grimaces in pain.

The idea of a suffering servant conjures up for most of us the image of someone who is miserable.  But our Gospel, and many other teachings of Christ, and the witness of the lives of the saints who have followed after him should give us pause before we accept such a miserable picture.  In fact, we have reason to believe that in the very midst of his passion, Christ was experiencing a deep and abiding peace.
That even in though the suffering servant suffers, but he does not resent his suffering, he is not existentially shaken by his suffering, he is not miserable.  He might even have, at the depth of his being, something very close to joy.

Joy in the midst of suffering?  The idea seems so naïve and pollyannaish, doesn’t it?  And that is why we need to speak about our Gospel and these readings so clearly today.  Because they show us a truth about who we are that is so counter cultural and forgotten in our day.

In the Gospel, Christ teaches his disciples that what brings joy and fulfillment in life is not seeking to preserve your life, but seeking to give it away.  He turns the survival instinct on its head: we are not mere animals who live in a slavery of finding survival by being the fittest.  We are made in the image and likeness of God.  And what is God like?  God is love.  That means that his joy and his very existence come not from what he receives - because who can give anything to God – but from his continuous giving of his life and his love.  We are made in the image of this God who finds joy in giving, not in the image of an animal who finds joy only in receiving.

That is what Jesus revealed to us on the cross – that we are most ourselves when we give our lives away, because it is in this act of offering our lives that we live most fully in the image and likeness of the God who made us.  We are made to find joy in being suffering servants, in offering our lives as a sacrifice to God and to others.

And so while it is possible for human beings to act as if they were mere animals, preoccupying themselves with ensuring that all of their needs are met and desires satisfied, to do so is to ignore the way that we are made and to take a path that will lead to misery, not only for ourselves, but for our world.   The goods of this world are limited, and so when our lives are dominated by the concern for worldly things we begin resent others, we deceive others, we develop hatreds for others.  Other human beings become our competition, they threaten our survival, or at best become useful tools on our path to success.  Even our own children can be perceived as threats to our happiness and fulfillment, and, like many animals, can be trampled if they get in the way of our quest for our own needs.  When we are motivated by the same desires as other animals, we act like animals, and our culture becomes a jungle of hatreds, rivalries, resentments, and fears.  A culture of death.

On the other hand, when we accept and live the truth about the sacrificial nature of human life revealed by Christ we find joy and life.  Instead of resenting the demands others make upon us, we embrace them because we understand them as opportunities to become more Christ-like, and in becoming Christ-like, find joy.  We are motivated to offer our lives and gifts freely, not counting the cost.  And we are freed from fear, because if you are trying to give your life away, what can anyone take from you that will not help accomplish your purpose?

A Christian culture, a culture of suffering servants offering their lives is sacrifice, is one of joy, peace, goodwill, and freedom.  A culture that loves its children and elderly and disabled because they bring the best out of us and help us to be more fully human as we serve their needs.  A culture that is bound together in a profound social commitment and solidarity, because nothing is such a cross to love as another human being, and we know that happiness is found when we take up our crosses and follow Christ.

In a half hour or so we will leave this sanctuary where we are nourished and incorporated into the one, eternal offering of Christ and step out into a world that is makes it easy to forget who we are and what will make us happy.  How long will it take us before we start thinking about what we need, about what we didn't get, or shouldn't have to give?  Maybe when we turn on the television, and a commercial draws our attention to a product or political failure?  Or when a spouse or child or parent or friend makes a request of us?  Or when we are presented with an opportunity to be of service?  Or when something stirs within us to sit with Christ in prayer?  Remember at that moment: we are not animals whose happiness depends on the fulfillment of our needs and desires.  We are made in the image and likeness of God, the suffering servant.  We will find misery if we try to find happiness the way animals do.  God has made us differently - so that we find life, joy, freedom and peace when we offer our lives in sacrifice to God and to others.

So back to that image of the suffering servant?  What do you see?  I see someone whose countenance radiates a depth of character and deep peace, whose eyes sparkle with a love and joy that is contagious, and whose step is confident and unafraid.  I see the full stature of a human being living in the image and likeness of God.

The Door of Faith Is Always Open for Us

Homily from the 28th Sunday of Ordinary Time, 2012

This past Thursday, October 11th, marked the 50th anniversary of the opening of the Second Vatican Council in Rome in 1962.
And this year, our Holy Father, Pope Benedict has on the anniversary inaugurated a year of faith for the Catholic Church throughout the world.

As he launched us on the year of faith this past Thursday, the Pope explained his hope for the Church this coming year.
He said “We want this Year to arouse in every believer the aspiration to profess the faith in fullness and with renewed conviction, with confidence and hope. It will also be a good opportunity to intensify the celebration of the faith in the liturgy, especially in the Eucharist, which is “the summit towards which the activity of the Church is directed; ... and also the source from which all its power flows.”  At the same time, we make it our prayer that believers’ witness of life may grow in credibility.
To rediscover the content of the faith that is professed, celebrated, lived and prayed, and to reflect on the act of faith, is a task that every believer must make his own, especially in the course of this Year.”


Now the Church speaks of faith in two senses.  The first sense is the content of our faith, the what of faith, the content, what we find in the creed and in the catechism.  The second sense of faith is our faithfulness to God, or our devotion to him and to his will for us.  In this year of faith, our Holy Father has asked us to work on both aspects: on a deeper understanding of the mystery of our Christian faith and on an intensified devotion to Christ in our daily lives.

These two aspects of faith support one another, don’t they?  
The more we know about God, the more we love him; the more we love God, the more we want to know about him.  Faith seeks understanding, and understanding deepens faith.

So, concretely this year it will be important to seek ways to bolster and deepen both aspects of faith: our understanding and our commitment.

In some ways building our understanding is the easier part.
We live in an information age.  We have access easily online to every ecumenical council document and papal encyclical promulgated.
Multiple translations of the Bible are online, along with the Catechism of the Catholic Church, St. Thomas’s summa theological, the Catholic dictionary, and countless other resources.  The difficulty is knowing where to begin, or how to start.  Pope Benedict has given us some advice.  This year, he says, start with the Catechism and with the documents of the Second Vatican Council.  And I will give you a great hint on exactly how to do that.  If you go to the site www.flocknote.com/catechism and subscribe, a small piece of the catechism will be emailed to you each day this year, so that after the year is done, you will have read the entire Catechism.
You only have three days to catch up on if you start today.
I also would encourage you to make sure you have a New American Bible, and commit to reading through all four Gospels and the Acts of the Apostles this year.  Also, if you don’t subscribe already, subscribe to the Magnificat.  It’s a little book that each day gives a brief biography of the Saint, the readings for Mass, and Morning and Evening Prayer.

Our Parish will also be providing many opportunities throughout the year to grow in faith, in addition to the current offerings for adults, including a series on the documents on the Second Vatican Council.
So that’s the first aspect of the year of faith, growing in our understanding of the teachings of Christ and his body, the Church.

The second aspect of faith is a bit more tricky: the fidelity, the commitment.  When we say that faith is a gift, I think it is in particular in reference to this aspect of faith.  You can know the Bible inside and out, you could have the Catechism memorized, without having faith.  Even the devil knows the Bible and the Catechism. In fact, he knows it better than any of us.  True faith is not just knowing, it must also be a receiving and adherence to what we know by faith.  Faithfulness, fidelity to Christ and the teachings of his Church is what makes us Christian. Otherwise we would all just be good students of Christianity.  No, the Catholic doesn’t just know what the teachings of the Church are and say “Oh, that’s nice.” “That’s one point of view.”  Faith means that we accept the teachings of Christ that have been handed down to us through the Church as the guideposts for our lives, and that we are faithful to those teachings even when it is not easy.



How can we strengthen our commitment to Christ, our adherence to his will in our lives?  Certainly knowing more about him helps – deepening our understanding of who he is and what he has done for us.  But as I said earlier, even the devil has that.  Something more is required.
And this is the mystery – where does the desire to follow Christ come from?  Ultimately it is a grace, it comes from him.
He gives us the desire to know, love, and serve him.  He gives us the desire that makes us want to be faithful.  But we can make ourselves more open to that grace, we can take steps that will encourage in us a desire to do God’s will, to follow him.

The first step is Baptism.  And thankfully we all are usually given that one by our parents.  The second is the life of the sacraments, particularly the Sacrament of the Eucharist – where through heavenly food God builds up in us the taste for heavenly things, he builds our hunger for him, for his will, for his love.  The third is in prayer, especially before the Blessed Sacrament.  As you know, we are beginning a perpetual adoration chapel this year.  If you are feeling a bit luke warm in your desire, a bit distant from God – as I imagine most of us feel most of the time, than take this concrete step.  Commit yourself to an hour with him once a week.  Maybe with your spouse or with a friend.
If you seek him, he will answer you.  If you knock, the door will be opened.  If you genuinely are working to do his will, he will show you the right path and give you the strength to follow him.
But you have to create an opening in your life, a time when he can work in you and break through the business of this world.  Will you spend one hour with him?  How much time do we spend pursuing trivial things, things that do not last?  Jesus warns us in the Gospel today that our stuff, our wealth, our need to be entertained, to be comfortable, can get in the way of our relationship with him.  Is there really a good reason why any of us cannot spend an hour a week with the Blessed Sacrament getting to know the God who made us and loves us and is trying to save us?
In the Gospel, the rich young man walked away.  He walked away from Jesus.  Because it was too hard.  He didn’t want to give up what he needed to give up.  He didn’t want to make the sacrifice that Christ was asking of him.  But true faith always requires something from us.  We can’t just observe Jesus’ work of salvation from the sidelines like a spectator and expect to share in his victory over sin and death.  We have to have some skin in the game, to be personally invested – willing to be counted and identified with Christ.  His teachings have to become our teachings, his ways our ways, his will our will, his life our life.

I will close with the words of our Pope addressed to all of us as we begin this year of faith:
“The “door of faith” is always open for us, ushering us into the life of communion with God and offering entry into his Church. It is possible to cross that threshold when the word of God is proclaimed and the heart allows itself to be shaped by transforming grace. To enter through that door is to set out on a journey that lasts a lifetime. It begins with baptism, through which we can address God as Father, and it ends with the passage through death to eternal life, fruit of the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, whose will it was, by the gift of the Holy Spirit, to draw those who believe in him into his own glory. To profess faith in the Trinity – Father, Son and Holy Spirit – is to believe in one God who is Love: the Father, who in the fullness of time sent his Son for our salvation; Jesus Christ, who in the mystery of his death and resurrection redeemed the world; the Holy Spirit, who leads the Church across the centuries as we await the Lord’s glorious return.”

From the Beginning He Made Them Male and Female

Homily from the 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time, 2012

As most of you know, our readings for Mass each weekend are given to us based on a three-year cycle.  So the theme of marriage that we find highlighted in today’s readings is one that the Church has highlighted every three years on the 27th Sunday of ordinary time for decades.

Yet as we listen to these readings this Sunday, we hear them in the context of a profoundly contentious cultural debate about same sex marriage.  As much as some have tried to argue that this cultural debate about is not over a religious question, but a civil rights question, all one has to do is read the editorial section in the paper each day to find out that everyone, on both sides of the debate, is using religious arguments.
In fact, those who are seeking to change the definition of marriage this fall have very deliberately worked to highlight clergy who agree with the proposed change, and many of those knocking at the door have been quick to tell those who answer that they are Catholics.

And so it is my duty as your priest, in the face of continuous religious arguments in favor of this change, to try to present a reasonable articulation of the Christ’s teaching on marriage as we hear it in the Gospel today, as difficult as that may be in 7 - 10 minutes, which is what they tell me is your attention span.  To be clear, I’m not trying to bully anyone from the pulpit, but as you prepare to vote on this issue, it is important that you have the opportunity to hear the basic gist of the Catholic position from your priest.

I don’t think that Christ’s teaching on marriage has ever been particularly easy to hear.  As we hear in the Gospel, divorce was permitted in the Mosaic law.  Yet in the face of the common practice of divorce, Jesus taught his followers that the law of Moses did not reflect the fullness of God’s plan for marriage and the family.  Instead, he began with Genesis.  “From the beginning of creation, God made them male and female.  For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.  Therefore, what God has joined together, no human being must separate.”

Now, when this passage was read at Mass a few decades ago, I imagine that the challenging aspect of the teaching centered around divorce.  In the face of a culture where half of marriages end in divorce, Christ’s teaching is very hard to hear: “Whoever divorces his wife and marries another commits adultery against her.”

But today, as we prepare for another vote on the question of same sex marriage, the challenge to our culture in his teaching is found in his claim that from the beginning of creation, God made them male and female, and that in marriage these two leave mother and father and become one flesh.

From the beginning, Jesus teaches us, God created human beings in a complementarity,  male and female, and remember, after that day he said “it is very good.”  Our gender is not a liability, an obstacle to be overcome, but a blessing given to us by God to allow us to share in his life, his love.  Genesis clearly teaches that this form of human relationship, the complementary relationship of male and female is the primordial and foundational human relationship.  Reason shows us that homo sapiens sapiens reproduces heterosexually in the union of a man and woman; what Genesis teaches us that this complementarity of genders that can give birth to new life is not arbitrary, is not a liability of our species, but is intended by God and is good – is very good.

And marriage is the natural institution or social arrangement that acknowledges and protects and upholds the goodness of this complementarity and fecundity of our species.  It exists to promote and shelter the relationship between husband and wife, between parents and their children.

Now some might say, well that’s your opinion, Father, and you’re entitled to it.  But look, it’s not just my opinion.  What our Gospel shows us so clearly today is that this is the teaching of Jesus Christ handed on to us faithfully by his Church.   It is the teaching outlined in the Catechism and taught by the bishops throughout the world.  This is not a question of what color vestments to wear or at what age children should receive their first communion.   There are practices of the Church that are debated and change depending on historical and cultural context and circumstances.  But this teaching has to do with the very core of how we understand the human person, how we understand the relationship between men and women, how we understand the relationship between parent and child, the family.  And the consistent teaching of the Church, based on faith and reason, has always been that the natural family is a blessing given to us by God that should be acknowledged and promoted by society in the institution of marriage.

Now some might say, that may be the belief of your church, but what gives you Catholics the right to impose your view on everyone else?  Clearly, not all citizens see things the same way, why can’t you just live and let live?  Your unwillingness to allow others to act in accord with their deeply held beliefs amounts to bigotry and hatred.

That simply is not true.  And that is because the government’s regulation of marriage is overwhelmingly dominated by positive law.  This means that changing the definition of marriage would not only allow same sex couples to marry, but would more importantly mandate that our government through its laws and regulation promote an entirely different vision of marriage for the whole of society.  Despite assurances to the contrary, this active promotion by the government of a vision of marriage and the family based solely on love and no longer tied in any way to the complementarity between men and women or to their natural children would profoundly impact our culture.  We need only look at the impact of no fault divorce laws on our society, when the government abandoned its promotion of permanence and indissolubility in marriage during the last century.  Now half of marriages end in divorce.  Laws matter – they not only keep people from doing what is wrong, but they also express and promote values that have a formative impact on the culture.  As Catholic men and women, we have the duty and obligation to advocate for and support laws and policies that will help our culture to remain vibrant and healthy, and help our families to live according to the truths of our faith.

Now this support of laws and policies that reflect Catholic teaching on marriage can never, never be motivated by a distain or bigotry or ambivalence toward the needs of others.  Our Church is clear on this: there can be no tolerance in our midst for homophobia, for anti-gay slurs, for bullying, or for any kind of lack of charity directed against another because of their sexual orientation.  Despite what we might hear sometimes in the news, I think that our Church is actually remarkably accepting to all people, regardless of sexual orientation.  Who can begin to count the number of Catholics who are attracted to the same sex or have experienced some uncertainty in their sexual orientation and yet remain active and dedicated to the practice of their faith?  Most of us have family members and friends who are of a different sexual orientation.  We’re all working to try to get to heaven, we’ve all got issues that we’re working on and gifts we’re trying to develop.  No one is checking sexual orientation at the door, and no one will be checking sexual orientation at the gates of heaven.

To be Catholic is to be about the work of following Christ – because we know that he is the Way and the Truth, and the Life: he reveals to us who we are and the fullness of God’s plan for us.  And an essential and beautiful part of that plan, Jesus tells us very clearly today in the Gospel, is found in a man and woman bound together in a complementary love - a married love - that makes them one flesh and offers them the grace to cooperate with their creator in bringing new life into our world.

Service to The Least Teaches a Peace From Above

Homily from the 25th Sunday of Ordinary Time

The readings this weekend couldn’t come at a better time as we enter into the last months of a very contentious election year and come to the end of such a tumultuous week in international relations.

Most every one of us, I’m sure, would say that we are sick of the negativity that seems to dominate the headlines – the rivalry, the constant antagonism.  It is a constant refrain on the street: the frustration with the tenor of social dialogue today.

But we still keep watching, don’t we?  We must, or else politicians wouldn’t keep running the adds, the stories of acrimony and division wouldn’t be picked up by the media outlets.  The next juicy tidbit and our ears perk up, maybe even despite us.  What?  He said what?  They did what?  The outrage!  What a travesty!

And if it’s not politics, then so often something else presents itself as the latest source of drama in our lives:  workplace dynamics, competitive sports, family issues, gossip among friends, and even, parish rumors.  Drama at every turn, and we don’t always do our best to avoid it.

In fact, many times if we’re honest, we don’t try to avoid it at all.  And this speaks to a built in contradiction in each of us:  as much as we all sympathize with the statement, “Can’t we all just get along?,” the minute that someone is not getting along all of our heads turn and we just have to know what’s happening.  How often we place ourselves in situations where we know our passions will be roused, sometimes even under the mistaken impression that being engaged in this constant struggle makes us more fully alive.

St. James was clearly speaking to this dysfunctional contradiction in the human person when he wrote to the community of Christians in the letter we heard today.  They were overcome with rivalries and conflict – their passions were aroused, St. James wrote, making war within their members.

And this same dynamic, the passions at war, had overtaken the disciples on their way to Capernaum.  Jesus had just finished speaking about his coming passion and death.  Instead of talking about that, they were obsessing and fighting about who was the greatest among them.

How easy it is to be swept into this river of passionate discord, at school, in the workplace, with friends and family, on the street, watching tv or browsing the internet!  The social dynamics at work make it very difficult not to be pulled into the fray, to become a part of the bitter drama that is unfolding.

But our Christian tradition is clear on this point.  Christ and those who have followed in his footsteps have insisted that the Church not to allow the good in the world, the love of God that is present among us, to be obscured in our midst by divisions and hatreds.  Christians cannot allow petty earthly rivalries and jealousies to draw their eyes away from Christ and his plan of salvation that is unfolding around us.  Instead, St. James urges us to seek a peace that comes from directing our passions and protecting our hearts so that they are not constantly being jerked around by the latest crisis, whether that be at home or in school or at work, in Washington DC or in north Africa.

Christ was clearly able to do this – to keep his eyes fixed on the will of his heavenly Father and on the needs of those around him, even while all hell was quite literally breaking lose.  And in our Gospel today, Jesus teaches his disciples how to keep from being swept away in worldly turmoil.
He tells them, seek to serve those around you – particularly those who are the least.  Christ showed his disciples and us that we should not fight a divisive culture by fleeing to the hills or monasteries, as tempting as that might be, but instead by seeking to serve the casualties of our culture, seeking to serve the least.

To serve those whose lives have been entirely overlooked and ignored because they don’t arouse the passion of other’s sympathy.  Those who suffer silently or alone and whose stories are like so many other stories that they never make it to the top of the news cycle.  Those who have been scarred when they were carelessly used as scapegoats or for the mere entertainment of others.  Those who have been ostracized and shunned because they have refused to participate in the denigration of others.  And yes, those who have perpetrated harm on others and carry with them the heavy burden of shame and guilty conscience.  To serve the least.

Christ commanded us to serve the least not only out of love for them, but also out of love for us.  He knew that in serving the least we are freed from the distractions of division and discord and find peace.  Our service to the least, in the midst of a society that cultivates and encourages the warring of passions, allows us to live and be rooted in what St. James calls a wisdom from above.  A wisdom that is pure, peaceable, gentle, compliant, full of mercy and good fruits, and without insincerity.  In a beautiful irony, God made our world in such a way that service to the least, to our children and those who are vulnerable in society, teaches us a peace that comes from above.  It is the least, it is our children who teach us to naturally shun what is evil and seek what is good.  To be passionate about learning, about being good, about making beautiful things come to life.  To desire to know not so much the faults of others as to hear stories about their virtues.  To speak the truth, regardless of the consequences.  And to love Christ about all things, simply because of how good and loving he is to us.

In a parish there is always a certain amount of conflict and discord, especially in our day when we are going through so many changes and living in such a crazy world.  I know that for Fr. Nadeau and I, and just about every priest I have ever talked to, it is our ministry to the least that keeps our lives in perspective, that keeps us from being overwhelmed by parish politics and focused on Christ and his work.  When we go to anoint someone who is dying, or when we are baptizing a little baby, or counseling someone who is grieving the loss of a loved one.  Or when I go to visit my nieces and my little nephew, who has just reached a stage in his life when at the sight of a crucifix he runs and points to it with great excitement, yelling at the top of his lungs: “Jesus!  Jesus!”

Throwing the Baker in the Batter

Homily for the 24th Sunday of Ordinary Time

(Note: after giving this homily, I had a few other thoughts and tweaks that have been added to this online version)

“Who do you say that I am?”
Quite a question that Jesus asks of his disciples today.  We might rephrase it for ourselves in our day:  “What does faith mean to us?  How does being Catholic affect my life?  What does it mean to be a member of the Church?  What does it mean to have a Christian home, to live a Christian life?”

In our Gospel today, at first it seems that St. Peter gives the right answer: “You are the Christ.” But it doesn’t take long before he demonstrates by his resistance to Jesus’ prediction about the future that his thinking is horribly flawed.  We have to conclude that when Peter said that Jesus was the Christ, he had a very different understanding of what it meant for Jesus to be the Messiah, the promised one.   It seems clear that Peter thought that Jesus would be successful in this world – that he would bring happiness and peace to those who followed him.  Maybe that he would reward his disciples for their labors and would grant blessings to those he had chosen.  That being a follower of Christ could be a peaceful and blessed kind of life.  In short, when St. Peter answered “You are the Christ,” it seems that what he meant was “You are the one who will make us successful in life.”  And boy did he find out that was the wrong answer.

Now, unfortunately, it seems that we all are prone to the same error that St. Peter fell in to when responding to the gift of faith in our daily lives.  Like Peter, we can begin to think that faith in God is supposed to make us successful, or at least help us to be successful – to have God at your side so that you will be able to conquer whatever challenges are placed before you.
I think this is a common understanding in our world today –
to treat religion as a kind of leg up, like a good education or a healthy lifestyle.  We might hear it even in anecdotal statistics that are sometimes thrown around – “You know, people who believe in God are happier.”  “They are more able to handle life’s troubles.”
“People who are religious are less likely to be criminals and are more likely to volunteer and give to charities.”  When Jesus asks “Who do you say that I am?” in our world today, it seems that many people respond in one way or another “You are one of the things that is important to have in a successful life.”  Kind of like the ads “Got milk?”, “Got faith.”  One gives you strong bones, the other gives you a strong spirit.  If you want your children to be successful, you should make sure that they get to church and get their sacraments – they can decide later on what they want to do with it, but at least they’ll get a good start.

What does Jesus say to all of this?  “Get behind me, Satan.”  “You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.”  Human beings see their lives in terms of worldly success.
Human beings so often try to use religion as a way to achieve their goals, to get what they want out of life.  Human beings are always tempted to think of God as one more ingredient in the recipe for a successful earthly life.  As one ingredient among many that can be added to life along with others to improve the taste of things.

How vehemently Jesus rejects this notion of faith, this notion of who he is for us, of what he brings to us.  No, Jesus Christ is not an ingredient in the recipe for a successful life.  His life is the bowl that all of the ingredients must be mixed inside, his love is the oven that purifies and prepares us and his pierced hands are the hands that serve us to the Father.  Without him, not a single ingredient makes sense.  Without him, life is just a bunch of meaningless stuff all thrown together with no binding purpose.

When we see how Christ emptied himself, forsaking all earthly success in order to carry out his loving plan of salvation, when  we look upon the cross, we realize that Christ did not come to grant us earthly success, but salvation.  That is why, after Peter correctly identifies Jesus as the Christ, Jesus speaks of the cross.  The specter of the cross, foreshadowed by Christ, exposed the inadequacy of Peter’s understanding of Jesus and revealed the true Christ: Christ who takes up his cross out of love for us and who dies in order to give us new life.  Christ who calls us to spend ourselves loving God and others even when such love jeopardizes our earthly success.

The cross shows us that following Christ is a love story, not a success story.  Our relationship with Christ, together as members of his body, his plan for us, is so much more profound and beautiful than mere earthly success that only lasts for the few short days that we wander around on this planet.

The cross makes it clear that we cannot treat Christ as just one more ingredient in a successful earthly life.  No, that is like asking the baker to jump into the batter.  Absurd!  Christ did not come to be an ingredient in our earthly success, but instead to call each of us to be the ingredients in his plan of salvation.

When Christ reveals his cross to us in our daily lives, how do we respond?  When he shows us that we must follow him by our willingness to forsake earthly success in pursuit of his plan of salvation, do we listen?  Or do we, like Peter, rebuke him, insisting that his plan of salvation fit into our plan for earthly success?  That he jump into our mix, instead of us jumping into his?  He asked St. Peter, and he asks each of us “Who do you say that I am?”

The Most Important Work of Your Life

Homily for the 22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time, 2012

Jesus’ teaching today reminds us that the most important work of the Christian is an interior work, the effort to purify and bring order to our inner lives with the help of God’s grace.  And he teaches us this lesson because he wants his disciples to find the freedom and happiness that comes from a purified and well-ordered heart.  He knows that when the heart is divided, when it is constantly distracted, when it is ruled by passions that are out of control, then we cannot find peace and joy and happiness.  And not only that, but those we love most, our families and our friends and community often bear the effects of our heart problems.
He reminds us that a pure heart not only gives peace and joy to us, but to everyone else who we encounter in life.

So I think we can logically conclude from our scriptures today that the most important thing that we can be working on, the most loving thing that we can do for those around us, is to work on our interior lives, to work on purifying and ordering our hearts.  If you want to love your husband or wife more, work on your spiritual life.  If you want to love your children more, work on your spiritual life.  If you want to love your friends and neighbors and coworkers and people you run into on the street, work on your spiritual life.  In short, just as the greatest act of love we can undertake for God is the love of others, so too, the greatest act of love we can undertake for others is to work on our love of God.  They are two sides to the same coin.

Wouldn't it be nice if this interior renewal could happen quickly and without a lot of work.  That God would just reach down one day and zap us – like a big Holy Spirit defibrillator: heavenly paddles put to the chest and zzzt… presto saint.  But real cleaning and ordering doesn't often happen like that, even if there are a few zaps along the way.  Instead, the path that most of us are called to follow is a gradual incline of interior renewal or conversion: a daily effort to fight against vice and grow in virtue.  In short, it’s work.  Don’t we all ask ourselves – I certainly do every day – am I really working on this hard enough?  Am I actively seeking open my heart to Christ and his will or is my effort to know and love him often far too halfhearted?  To have a pure and ordered heart: that is what I know I need and what those around me need in me more than anything – certainly as a priest.  But it is the same for all of us.  What are we doing about that – concretely - this evening, tomorrow morning, afternoon?

And so on this labor day weekend it is fitting that we speak a bit about this most important spiritual occupation, working with Christ to build an interior castle, a spiritual life that is fully alive and open to God’s grace.  But where to begin?  What are tools and method of this art of interior renewal, this work of spiritual construction?  Perhaps more clearly than anywhere, we find in the lives of the saints throughout the centuries the inspiration and clear witness as to how to carry out this work of interior conversion.  Today I thought we could just touch on three main elements.

1. First, the saints show us that we must work to know our destination: to know Christ, whose mind and heart were pure and ordered to the truth  and goodness of God’s will.  The more intimately we know Jesus, the more we are capable of seeing the destination that our hearts seek.  How do we come to know Christ intimately?  The fathers of the Church tell us that ignorance of the scriptures is ignorance of Christ.  So first and foremost, we must work to immerse ourselves in the sacred scriptures, particularly in the Gospels.  But the scriptures do not interpret themselves, being that they are translated from 3 different languages and cultures of 2-3 thousand years ago that were very different from our own.  And so in our reading we have to rely on the guidance of the great doctors of the church, the moral and doctrinal tradition that has been handed on throughout the centuries, and the lived witness of the saints: all of whom help us to encounter the true Jesus Christ, rather than fall into the easy trap of fabricating an image of Jesus that conforms more to our own goals and desires than to the truth about him.  How often do you and I read scripture and scriptural commentaries, documents of the Church, or books on the lives of the saints?  If interior renewal is our goal, then this work of deepening our understanding of Christ is essential and we have to make it a priority.  How many bookmarks on our browser point us to sites that will help us to grow in the knowledge and love of our faith?

2. But it is not only this intellectual knowledge that we need, right?  We not only need to know where or to whom we’re going –
we also need his help getting there.  And this means that we need to listen to Jesus as he speaks directly to us so that the truth of who he is, what he thinks, and what he desires can begin to really change who we are and what we think, and what we desire.
The saints show us that this interior dialogue – heart to heart - happens through the sacraments, through fasting and other penitential practices, and through long hours of prayer.  Through these aspects of our Catholic life, Christ’s spirit, the Holy Spirit, leads us along the path to holiness.  The sacraments and our spiritual disciplines gradually instill in us the fortitude to persevere when we encounter our human weakness and failures, and to not settle for mediocrity in the spiritual life.  Over time God’s grace has the power to radically transform us through prayer and sacrament, making us less distracted with the trivial things in life, less prone to be overcome by destructive passions, less vulnerable to bouts of anxiety and fear, and more full of joy and hope and goodwill toward others.  Do we take time for prayer?  Real time – is it scheduled, does our day begin and end in prayer?  What about frequent confession and the regular reception of the Eucharist?  In our world, that pushes us in so many directions, it is easy to neglect these spiritual basics.
But if we are serious about interior renewal, for our sakes and the sake of those around us we need to put spiritual things first, and then let life settle in around that.

3. And finally, even  the most hermetic of hermits recognized that the interior can only be purified and ordered when it is constantly being given to those around us.  Christ teaches us continually throughout the Gospels that generous service to others and a sacrificial outpouring of one’s life to friend and neighbor is essential for an interior conversion of life.  We might put it this way: God can only purify and order your heart when you give it to him, not when you keep it buried in your chest.  Do the saints have pure hearts because they love, or do they love because they have pure hearts?  It’s kind of a chicken and egg question, but clearly the two go together.  What is clear is that in working to purify and order our hearts we must be concerned with the hearts of others.  When we give our heart to a brother or sister in need, Jesus tells us that we give it to him, and we know that when we give our hearts to Christ he works to purify them and order them and make them holy.
How much do we go out of our way to build community in our parish and in our neighborhood?  How much potential social time is gobbled up by vegging in front of a television of computer?  It’s easier to plop down on the couch, but you can’t love others from the couch.  Interior renewal means seeking out community, seeking opportunities to love others, and seeking Christian friendship so that we can encourage one another in the path to holiness.  This may be the greatest challenge to us today – building Christian community and culture.

As we look to the witness of the saints, to the instruction of  the scriptures and the witness of  our Catholic tradition, the pathway to interior conversion of life in Christ is pretty clearly revealed to us, it is not a great mystery like the Trinity.

But there is one mystery that each of us must sort out with God alone – and that is the path that we will choose each day.  Will we be hearers of the word only, deluding ourselves, St. Paul asks us today, or will we be doers of the word?  Will we be content with a basic knowledge of Christ, a mediocre prayer life, and kindness to those who are easy to be around?  Christ desires more for us because he knows our hearts and he knows that our hearts need more to find true joy and fulfillment.  That our hearts will be restless until they rest in him.  On this labor day weekend, let us recommit ourselves to the most important work of our lives: the work of building an interior castle, a temple for the Holy Spirit, a foundation that is solidly grounded in the joy and peace and truth of Christ’s love.