Acts 2:14, 22-33;
Psalm 16;
1 Peter 1:17-21;
Luke 24:13-35
The story in our Gospel today takes the form of a Mass. Cleopas, who is the brother of St. Joseph and so the uncle of Jesus, and his wife, who is one of the several women in the New Testament named Mary, are walking home after having come to Jerusalem with Jesus for the Passover. Jesus appears. “The Lord be with you.” Cleopas confesses the sin of the people for killing Jesus, and his own sin in failing to believe in the Resurrection. Jesus reads the words of the Scriptures. Then he preaches a homily, explaining how everything points to his death and Resurrection. How wonderful it would be if we could have Jesus preach to us now! Instead, you only have me. When he is done explaining the Scriptures, he takes bread, says the blessing, breaks it, and gives it to them. Jesus is revealed in the breaking of the bread. Then they go and announce the Gospel of the Lord. This is not an accident. Here we have a proof for how the Mass goes all the way back to the Apostles. St. Luke uses very specific words to emphasize how this encounter with Jesus is like the Mass.
Just like in the Mass, Jesus was present even though the disciples could not see him. Jesus is present here, even though he cannot see him. When they reached Emmaus, they stopped for the night. They stop because they are seeking some rest, but Jesus is the true rest for our restless souls. They stop because they cannot see their way any longer in the dark, but Jesus is the Way. They stop because they are afraid of the dark, but Jesus is the Light of the World. They do not understand who they are with. “Their eyes were prevented from recognizing him.” Yet, they do understand that this stranger is able to bring all the events of the past few days into light and they wish to speak with him further and so they beg Jesus to stop with them.
We too, should beg Jesus to stay with us. Our lives are a journey toward heaven. We alternate between doing holy things like going to Mass and praying and doing secular things like work and play. It would be a mistake to think that Jesus is only with us when we are doing the holy things, as if he were just sitting in Church and has nothing to do with what happens outside of these walls. We turn to God throughout the day, but he is always turned toward us. God is just as real when we are watching television as he is when we are praying.
When we stop and take our rest, we should urge Jesus to stay with us. Not because he would otherwise go somewhere else, but because we need to keep in mind that he is here with us. He is on the couch next to you as you watch TV. Sometimes, when you are watching TV, stop for a second and pray. God is always there, but we have to remember sometimes. This is why it is so important to pray at specific times throughout the day. Pray before you eat, pray after you eat, pray before you sleep, pray when you wake up in the morning, pray constantly. And do not let these prayers be just a jumble of mumbled words. As you say the prayer, turn to God in your heart. Remember for a moment who you are and who God is.
Once the disciples recognize Jesus they immediately leave Emmaus for Jerusalem. Before they remembered Jesus, they were afraid. It was not safe to be walking outside after dark, particularly not in an age without flashlights or streetlights. When they recognize Jesus in the breaking of the bread, they get up and go back to Jerusalem. They are no longer afraid. They do not wait until morning. They just go. "Perfect love casts out all fear." "In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins." When we know that we are loved, we are not afraid anymore. It is not like someone who is too drunk or stupid to see the danger. A Christian sees the danger but is not afraid because he who is in us is greater than he who is in the world. This fearlessness is the true mark of Christians. To be willing to die for what you believe in is not uncommon. Many people die for what they believe in: some are good; some are bad; some are just crazy. Martyrs are different. They die without hatred and without fear. They die joyfully because they have come to know a love that is greater than any suffering.
We are not at this time confronted by the challenge of martyrdom. No one right now and right here is going to kill us for faith. But we still face fears. The fear of missing out. We are afraid that if we give ourselves more fully to Jesus and therefore give up things of this world, we are missing out on the fun that the rest of the world is having. The elder brother complains to his father that the prodigal son got to party but he never even got to feast on a goat with his friends. We want to eat our cake and have it too. We are afraid that being Christian means giving up enjoyable parts of life. The father responds to the elder son by reminding him of his love. If we come to know the love of God, we will realize that all the little distractions of the world are worth nothing in comparison. It will be like a man who stops playing a video game because he has fallen in love and his friends make fun of him for being bossed but he says, “You do not understand. I don’t want to play the game anymore. I have something better to do with my time.” Imagine being so in love with God that it wasn’t that you did not sin because he told you not to but because sin just seemed like such a waste of time.
Daily Homilies
Showing posts with label Prayer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Prayer. Show all posts
February 22, 2015 - Tuesday of the First Week of Lent
Isaiah 55:10-11
Psalm 34:4-7, 16-19
Matthew 6:7-15
Our God is not deaf. He is not asleep. He is not far away from us. Our God is not busy. We have so much difficulty imagining an omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient, eternal God that we invent difficulties that do not exist. We imagine that God must be too busy running the whole universe to listen to us. God is not like us. He is more attentive to each of us than we are to ourselves. He knows the life history of every mosquito. He knows when a hair falls off our head. We cannot fathom how attentive he is to us.
God does not hear us because we pray to him. He hears every word we speak all day long; he knows every thought we think. We may be tempted to imagine that when we turn to God in prayer, it is like picking up the phone and calling him. Not at all! We are more like a toddler picking up a toy phone and calling our father who is sitting right there watching us. God does not hear us better when we are in church or when our hands are folded or when we are looking up at a particular corner of the ceiling or shouting at the sky.
God is not inattentive, but we are. The difference between when we pray and when we are not praying is not God’s attention to us but our attention to God. Sometimes we wonder whether God is hearing our prayer. This is certain: he is. Our real concern should be with whether we are hearing him. God is with us always, hearing every thought, feeling, and word, but, when we finally turn to him, we act like he does not know us. We think that prayer is all about God, but, paradoxically, it is all about us. When we pray, we are not contending with an absent God but with ourselves: with our selfish, stubborn, obtuse natures.
When we pray, we may use many words or few, we might repeat a prayer or speak freely to God, we may invoke God’s name or ask a Saint to pray for us, we might read the Scriptures or sit in silence hoping to hear the Spirit speak within us, but we should not pile up words, as the Gentiles do, thinking that in their many words they will be heard. We are not trying to be heard; we are trying to hear.
Psalm 34:4-7, 16-19
Matthew 6:7-15
Our God is not deaf. He is not asleep. He is not far away from us. Our God is not busy. We have so much difficulty imagining an omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient, eternal God that we invent difficulties that do not exist. We imagine that God must be too busy running the whole universe to listen to us. God is not like us. He is more attentive to each of us than we are to ourselves. He knows the life history of every mosquito. He knows when a hair falls off our head. We cannot fathom how attentive he is to us.
God does not hear us because we pray to him. He hears every word we speak all day long; he knows every thought we think. We may be tempted to imagine that when we turn to God in prayer, it is like picking up the phone and calling him. Not at all! We are more like a toddler picking up a toy phone and calling our father who is sitting right there watching us. God does not hear us better when we are in church or when our hands are folded or when we are looking up at a particular corner of the ceiling or shouting at the sky.
God is not inattentive, but we are. The difference between when we pray and when we are not praying is not God’s attention to us but our attention to God. Sometimes we wonder whether God is hearing our prayer. This is certain: he is. Our real concern should be with whether we are hearing him. God is with us always, hearing every thought, feeling, and word, but, when we finally turn to him, we act like he does not know us. We think that prayer is all about God, but, paradoxically, it is all about us. When we pray, we are not contending with an absent God but with ourselves: with our selfish, stubborn, obtuse natures.
When we pray, we may use many words or few, we might repeat a prayer or speak freely to God, we may invoke God’s name or ask a Saint to pray for us, we might read the Scriptures or sit in silence hoping to hear the Spirit speak within us, but we should not pile up words, as the Gentiles do, thinking that in their many words they will be heard. We are not trying to be heard; we are trying to hear.
March 11, 2014 - Tuesday of the First Week of Lent
Isaiah 55:10-11
Psalm 34:4-7, 16-19
Matthew 6:7-15
Our God is not deaf. He is not asleep. He is not far away from us. Our God is not busy. We have so much difficulty imagining an omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient, eternal God that we invent difficulties that do not exist. We imagine that God must be too busy running the whole universe to listen to us. God is not like us. He is more attentive to each of us than we are to ourselves. He knows the life history of every mosquito. He knows when a hair falls off our head. We cannot fathom how attentive he is to us.
God does not hear us because we pray to him. He hears every word we speak all day long; he knows every thought we think. We may be tempted to imagine that when we turn to God in prayer, it is like picking up the phone and calling him. Not at all! We are more like a toddler picking up a toy phone and calling our father who is sitting right there watching us. God does not hear us better when we are in church or when our hands are folded or when we are looking up at a particular corner of the ceiling or shouting at the sky.
God is not inattentive, but we are. The difference between when we pray and when we are not praying is not God’s attention to us but our attention to God. Sometimes we wonder whether God is hearing our prayer. This is certain: he is. Our real concern should be with whether we are hearing him. God is with us always, hearing every thought, feeling, and word, but, when we finally turn to him, we act like he does not know us. We think that prayer is all about God, but, paradoxically, it is all about us. When we pray, we are not contending with an absent God but with ourselves: with our selfish, stubborn, obtuse natures.
When we pray, we may use many words or few, we might repeat a prayer or speak freely to God, we may invoke God’s name or ask a Saint to pray for us, we might read the Scriptures or sit in silence hoping to hear the Spirit speak within us, but we should not pile up words, as the Gentiles do, thinking that in their many words they will be heard. We are not trying to be heard; we are trying to hear.
Psalm 34:4-7, 16-19
Matthew 6:7-15
Our God is not deaf. He is not asleep. He is not far away from us. Our God is not busy. We have so much difficulty imagining an omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient, eternal God that we invent difficulties that do not exist. We imagine that God must be too busy running the whole universe to listen to us. God is not like us. He is more attentive to each of us than we are to ourselves. He knows the life history of every mosquito. He knows when a hair falls off our head. We cannot fathom how attentive he is to us.
God does not hear us because we pray to him. He hears every word we speak all day long; he knows every thought we think. We may be tempted to imagine that when we turn to God in prayer, it is like picking up the phone and calling him. Not at all! We are more like a toddler picking up a toy phone and calling our father who is sitting right there watching us. God does not hear us better when we are in church or when our hands are folded or when we are looking up at a particular corner of the ceiling or shouting at the sky.
God is not inattentive, but we are. The difference between when we pray and when we are not praying is not God’s attention to us but our attention to God. Sometimes we wonder whether God is hearing our prayer. This is certain: he is. Our real concern should be with whether we are hearing him. God is with us always, hearing every thought, feeling, and word, but, when we finally turn to him, we act like he does not know us. We think that prayer is all about God, but, paradoxically, it is all about us. When we pray, we are not contending with an absent God but with ourselves: with our selfish, stubborn, obtuse natures.
When we pray, we may use many words or few, we might repeat a prayer or speak freely to God, we may invoke God’s name or ask a Saint to pray for us, we might read the Scriptures or sit in silence hoping to hear the Spirit speak within us, but we should not pile up words, as the Gentiles do, thinking that in their many words they will be heard. We are not trying to be heard; we are trying to hear.
March 8, 2014 - Saturday After Ash Wednesday
Isaiah 58:9-14
Psalm 86:1-6
Luke 5:27-32
In the first reading, God, speaking through the prophet Isaiah, tells Israel the proper understanding of the Sabbath. The point of the Sabbath is not so much to rest as to, for one day, do the work of God instead of our own work. God tells his people to “honor it by not following your ways, seeking your own interests, or speaking with malice.” This is also a good description of what Lent should be about. The true spirit of Lent, fasting, almsgiving, and prayer, is embodied in this idea of turning our back on our own interests. Of course, most people will still have to work during Lent at a job which serves their own interest. Not everyone can take 40 days of vacation to serve the poor. Still, just because a person cannot do something entirely does not mean they ought not do it partially. We would all greatly benefit if, for the next 40 days we all stopped following our own pursuits and began serving.
How easy it is to follow our own pursuits! Even many who claim to follow God only follow him after serving themselves. Jesus said to Levi, “Follow me.” How easy it would have been for Levi to have cleaned up his work and collected all the money sitting out on the table, first taking care of Levi’s priorities before getting around to Jesus, but, instead of telling Jesus to wait just a minute, without a thought for anything in front of him, “leaving everything behind, he got up and followed him.” The miracle recorded today is that Levi forgot. Levi forgot about the work he was doing. He forgot about the money he had collected. He forgot about whoever was next in line at the customs post. He forgot about his own interest and followed Jesus.
Again, not everyone can drop what they are doing to follow Jesus. Not everyone, but some can. Could you, like Levi, forget everything, leave it all behind and follow Jesus? Perhaps, like the rich young man, you would need to sell everything, close up shop, and then follow Jesus. Perhaps you are already where you belong, and what is left is to wake up every day and follow Jesus by doing your work with great love. The main thing is to follow Jesus, completely abandoned to his will, not doing what seems good in our own mind but having the mind of Christ.
Psalm 86:1-6
Luke 5:27-32
In the first reading, God, speaking through the prophet Isaiah, tells Israel the proper understanding of the Sabbath. The point of the Sabbath is not so much to rest as to, for one day, do the work of God instead of our own work. God tells his people to “honor it by not following your ways, seeking your own interests, or speaking with malice.” This is also a good description of what Lent should be about. The true spirit of Lent, fasting, almsgiving, and prayer, is embodied in this idea of turning our back on our own interests. Of course, most people will still have to work during Lent at a job which serves their own interest. Not everyone can take 40 days of vacation to serve the poor. Still, just because a person cannot do something entirely does not mean they ought not do it partially. We would all greatly benefit if, for the next 40 days we all stopped following our own pursuits and began serving.
How easy it is to follow our own pursuits! Even many who claim to follow God only follow him after serving themselves. Jesus said to Levi, “Follow me.” How easy it would have been for Levi to have cleaned up his work and collected all the money sitting out on the table, first taking care of Levi’s priorities before getting around to Jesus, but, instead of telling Jesus to wait just a minute, without a thought for anything in front of him, “leaving everything behind, he got up and followed him.” The miracle recorded today is that Levi forgot. Levi forgot about the work he was doing. He forgot about the money he had collected. He forgot about whoever was next in line at the customs post. He forgot about his own interest and followed Jesus.
Again, not everyone can drop what they are doing to follow Jesus. Not everyone, but some can. Could you, like Levi, forget everything, leave it all behind and follow Jesus? Perhaps, like the rich young man, you would need to sell everything, close up shop, and then follow Jesus. Perhaps you are already where you belong, and what is left is to wake up every day and follow Jesus by doing your work with great love. The main thing is to follow Jesus, completely abandoned to his will, not doing what seems good in our own mind but having the mind of Christ.
March 7, 2014 - Friday After Ash Wednesday
Isaiah 58:1-9
Psalm 51:3 -- 6:18-19
Matthew 9:14-15
The Gospel today reminds us of the special experience of the disciples of Jesus. They did not need to fast because he was there. If they wanted to pray, they could just go find Jesus and sit at his feet and listen to the words he spoke. In the Gospels, Jesus only appears to us when he is saying or doing something of great importance, but the disciples lived with him every day. They ate dinner with him. They slept wherever he was sleeping.
The fact that the disciples did not fast teaches us about fasting. Fasting is supposed to create a longing within us. This longing is always present, but we usually answer it with food or television or other diversions. This longing is a longing for God. We only answer it with lesser things because it is difficult to know God in this world, but, if God were present as Jesus was present to his disciples, we would never eat when we were not hungry, we would never zone out with television.
If a hungry man cannot get food, perhaps he will chew on bark or something else to pass the time, but, when he has food, he will throw away the bark and begin to eat. So we also, when we get to heaven and live in the presence of God, will throw away whatever we have used to quiet our longing for God. Here and now it is painful to throw these things away, since it is easier to eat a bag of potato chips than to pray for an hour. Still, we force ourselves to fast so that we do not forget what we really want, so that we do not forget what the longing is really for.
As we fast this Lent and rediscover our longing for God, we must be careful to not find a substitute for what we have given up. Particularly if you have given up television or the internet, you may find that you have literally hours of extra time each day. Now is not the time to become an avid reader of novels. Use the time for the other Lenten practices: prayer and almsgiving. Help those in need. Read the Scriptures. Spend some time in Adoration. If our fast is the kind of fast that God loves, it will turn us outward to God and to our neighbor.
Psalm 51:3 -- 6:18-19
Matthew 9:14-15
The Gospel today reminds us of the special experience of the disciples of Jesus. They did not need to fast because he was there. If they wanted to pray, they could just go find Jesus and sit at his feet and listen to the words he spoke. In the Gospels, Jesus only appears to us when he is saying or doing something of great importance, but the disciples lived with him every day. They ate dinner with him. They slept wherever he was sleeping.
The fact that the disciples did not fast teaches us about fasting. Fasting is supposed to create a longing within us. This longing is always present, but we usually answer it with food or television or other diversions. This longing is a longing for God. We only answer it with lesser things because it is difficult to know God in this world, but, if God were present as Jesus was present to his disciples, we would never eat when we were not hungry, we would never zone out with television.
If a hungry man cannot get food, perhaps he will chew on bark or something else to pass the time, but, when he has food, he will throw away the bark and begin to eat. So we also, when we get to heaven and live in the presence of God, will throw away whatever we have used to quiet our longing for God. Here and now it is painful to throw these things away, since it is easier to eat a bag of potato chips than to pray for an hour. Still, we force ourselves to fast so that we do not forget what we really want, so that we do not forget what the longing is really for.
As we fast this Lent and rediscover our longing for God, we must be careful to not find a substitute for what we have given up. Particularly if you have given up television or the internet, you may find that you have literally hours of extra time each day. Now is not the time to become an avid reader of novels. Use the time for the other Lenten practices: prayer and almsgiving. Help those in need. Read the Scriptures. Spend some time in Adoration. If our fast is the kind of fast that God loves, it will turn us outward to God and to our neighbor.
March 6, 2014 - Thursday After Ash Wednesday
Deuteronomy 30:15-20
Psalm 1:1-4, 6
Luke 9:22-25
“If anyone wishes to come after me….” How gently does our Savior invite us! Who can hear this offer and refuse? “If anyone wishes to come after me….” I do. What do I need to do? “…they must deny themself and take up their cross daily and follow me.” Here is that Lenten trio again: fasting, almsgiving, and prayer.
“They must deny themself” We do this through fasting, not only from food but also from all of the pacifiers we use to quiet our souls’ longing for God: entertainment and comfort and other pleasures. When we deny ourselves we experience a kind of suffering, but this suffering can be very addictive; it is actually joy.
“Take up their cross daily” Sometimes, when people talk about this verse, they speak of our cross as our suffering. Anything from arthritis to disabilities to other people can be called a cross. This is a half-truth. The central mystery of the cross is not that Jesus suffered and died, but that he suffered and died for us. A cross is not whatever difficulties we have in life. Everyone has difficulties. We take up the daily cross when we embrace suffering in order to assist another, either directly or by offering some suffering to God for them. Indeed any suffering we experience in life can be a cross, but only if we embrace it and offer it. We are most conformed to the cross when the work we do for others is the source of our suffering. Agreeing to help someone we dislike can be a way of the cross; from beginning to end we may be suffering physically or mentally or with wounded pride. Take up such crosses daily.
“Follow me” To follow someone simply means to be with them, wherever they go. Our way of being with God is prayer. Prayer is a conversation we have with God, and, like any good conversation, includes both speaking and listening. As we converse with God, chains will bind our heart to him. Then, no matter where the world goes, we will stay close to him.
Prayer, fasting, and almsgiving can seem cold and theoretical. Jesus is inviting us, in a personal way, to take up these essential spiritual practices. Above all, he is drawing our attention to the fact that he himself has taken them up already. In our Lenten journey, when it is difficult, we should remember that we are coming after Jesus.
Psalm 1:1-4, 6
Luke 9:22-25
“If anyone wishes to come after me….” How gently does our Savior invite us! Who can hear this offer and refuse? “If anyone wishes to come after me….” I do. What do I need to do? “…they must deny themself and take up their cross daily and follow me.” Here is that Lenten trio again: fasting, almsgiving, and prayer.
“They must deny themself” We do this through fasting, not only from food but also from all of the pacifiers we use to quiet our souls’ longing for God: entertainment and comfort and other pleasures. When we deny ourselves we experience a kind of suffering, but this suffering can be very addictive; it is actually joy.
“Take up their cross daily” Sometimes, when people talk about this verse, they speak of our cross as our suffering. Anything from arthritis to disabilities to other people can be called a cross. This is a half-truth. The central mystery of the cross is not that Jesus suffered and died, but that he suffered and died for us. A cross is not whatever difficulties we have in life. Everyone has difficulties. We take up the daily cross when we embrace suffering in order to assist another, either directly or by offering some suffering to God for them. Indeed any suffering we experience in life can be a cross, but only if we embrace it and offer it. We are most conformed to the cross when the work we do for others is the source of our suffering. Agreeing to help someone we dislike can be a way of the cross; from beginning to end we may be suffering physically or mentally or with wounded pride. Take up such crosses daily.
“Follow me” To follow someone simply means to be with them, wherever they go. Our way of being with God is prayer. Prayer is a conversation we have with God, and, like any good conversation, includes both speaking and listening. As we converse with God, chains will bind our heart to him. Then, no matter where the world goes, we will stay close to him.
Prayer, fasting, and almsgiving can seem cold and theoretical. Jesus is inviting us, in a personal way, to take up these essential spiritual practices. Above all, he is drawing our attention to the fact that he himself has taken them up already. In our Lenten journey, when it is difficult, we should remember that we are coming after Jesus.
March 7, 2013 - Thursday of the Third Week of Lent
Jeremiah 7:23-28
Psalm 95:1-2, 6-9
Luke 11:14-23
Many times, prayer is described as talking to God, but this is the less important side of prayer. “Thus says the LORD: I commanded my people, saying, Listen to my voice.” God knows everything. He even knows what is in our hearts before we do. Still, he listens to us. We know very little. (This is not a statement of false humility; we really know very little.) Even the most educated person does not know the answer to simple questions like, “How can I be happy?” We should be sitting before God, eagerly straining to hear what he has to say.
When we listen, we are exposing ourselves to being convinced. When we listen to sitcoms on television praising sin, we should not imagine that we are unaffected. When we listen to gossip or mean words, we should not suppose that we are above the person speaking. Satan loves the pride in us which, at the same time, prevents us from listening to God’s teaching and encourages us to presume we are immune from the evil influence of evil speech.
The voice of God is not very loud. Our free will is as fragile as a house of cards; if he spoke too forcefully, it would be destroyed. We can only hear his voice when we have turned off the television and the radio. Even then, the sounds we listen to all day reverberate in our mind. We could sit in a silent church, but the voice of God will still be shouted down by a voice in our head that is concerned with those many unimportant details that consume our lives. God is so very polite. He will never interrupt any other speaker. He waits until every other voice is silent, and then he speaks.
When he does speak, God does not say many words. He told St. Francis, “Rebuild my Church.” He said to St. Augustine, “Take and read.” He said to Mother Theresa, “I thirst.” He said to St. Paul, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” So many of the saints point to an experience of hearing a few words, perhaps a whole sentence, perhaps even a very short conversation, which changed their lives. Their whole life’s work became simply a matter of following what these words called them to. God has two or three words for you also. If you heard them, your life would be changed completely.
Psalm 95:1-2, 6-9
Luke 11:14-23
Many times, prayer is described as talking to God, but this is the less important side of prayer. “Thus says the LORD: I commanded my people, saying, Listen to my voice.” God knows everything. He even knows what is in our hearts before we do. Still, he listens to us. We know very little. (This is not a statement of false humility; we really know very little.) Even the most educated person does not know the answer to simple questions like, “How can I be happy?” We should be sitting before God, eagerly straining to hear what he has to say.
When we listen, we are exposing ourselves to being convinced. When we listen to sitcoms on television praising sin, we should not imagine that we are unaffected. When we listen to gossip or mean words, we should not suppose that we are above the person speaking. Satan loves the pride in us which, at the same time, prevents us from listening to God’s teaching and encourages us to presume we are immune from the evil influence of evil speech.
The voice of God is not very loud. Our free will is as fragile as a house of cards; if he spoke too forcefully, it would be destroyed. We can only hear his voice when we have turned off the television and the radio. Even then, the sounds we listen to all day reverberate in our mind. We could sit in a silent church, but the voice of God will still be shouted down by a voice in our head that is concerned with those many unimportant details that consume our lives. God is so very polite. He will never interrupt any other speaker. He waits until every other voice is silent, and then he speaks.
When he does speak, God does not say many words. He told St. Francis, “Rebuild my Church.” He said to St. Augustine, “Take and read.” He said to Mother Theresa, “I thirst.” He said to St. Paul, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” So many of the saints point to an experience of hearing a few words, perhaps a whole sentence, perhaps even a very short conversation, which changed their lives. Their whole life’s work became simply a matter of following what these words called them to. God has two or three words for you also. If you heard them, your life would be changed completely.
February 19, 2013 - Tuesday of the First Week of Lent
Isaiah 55:10-11
Psalm 34:4-7, 16-19
Matthew 6:7-15
Our God is not deaf. He is not asleep. He is not far away from us. Our God is not busy. We have so much difficulty imagining an omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient, eternal God that we invent difficulties that do not exist. We imagine that God must be too busy running the whole universe to listen to us. God is not like us. He is more attentive to each of us than we are to ourselves. He knows the life history of every mosquito. He knows when a hair falls off our head. We cannot fathom how attentive he is to us.
God does not hear us because we pray to him. He hears every word we speak all day long; he knows every thought we think. We may be tempted to imagine that when we turn to God in prayer, it is like picking up the phone and calling him. Not at all! We are more like a toddler picking up a toy phone and calling our father who is sitting right there watching us. God does not hear us better when we are in church or when our hands are folded or when we are looking up at a particular corner of the ceiling or shouting at the sky.
God is not inattentive, but we are. The difference between when we pray and when we are not praying is not God’s attention to us but our attention to God. Sometimes we wonder whether God is hearing our prayer. This is certain: he is. Our real concern should be with whether we are hearing him. God is with us always, hearing every thought, feeling, and word, but, when we finally turn to him, we act like he does not know us. We think that prayer is all about God, but, paradoxically, it is all about us. When we pray, we are not contending with an absent God but with ourselves: with our selfish, stubborn, obtuse natures.
When we pray, we may use many words or few, we might repeat a prayer or speak freely to God, we may invoke God’s name or ask a Saint to pray for us, we might read the Scriptures or sit in silence hoping to hear the Spirit speak within us, but we should not pile up words, as the Gentiles do, thinking that in their many words they will be heard. We are not trying to be heard; we are trying to hear.
Psalm 34:4-7, 16-19
Matthew 6:7-15
Our God is not deaf. He is not asleep. He is not far away from us. Our God is not busy. We have so much difficulty imagining an omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient, eternal God that we invent difficulties that do not exist. We imagine that God must be too busy running the whole universe to listen to us. God is not like us. He is more attentive to each of us than we are to ourselves. He knows the life history of every mosquito. He knows when a hair falls off our head. We cannot fathom how attentive he is to us.
God does not hear us because we pray to him. He hears every word we speak all day long; he knows every thought we think. We may be tempted to imagine that when we turn to God in prayer, it is like picking up the phone and calling him. Not at all! We are more like a toddler picking up a toy phone and calling our father who is sitting right there watching us. God does not hear us better when we are in church or when our hands are folded or when we are looking up at a particular corner of the ceiling or shouting at the sky.
God is not inattentive, but we are. The difference between when we pray and when we are not praying is not God’s attention to us but our attention to God. Sometimes we wonder whether God is hearing our prayer. This is certain: he is. Our real concern should be with whether we are hearing him. God is with us always, hearing every thought, feeling, and word, but, when we finally turn to him, we act like he does not know us. We think that prayer is all about God, but, paradoxically, it is all about us. When we pray, we are not contending with an absent God but with ourselves: with our selfish, stubborn, obtuse natures.
When we pray, we may use many words or few, we might repeat a prayer or speak freely to God, we may invoke God’s name or ask a Saint to pray for us, we might read the Scriptures or sit in silence hoping to hear the Spirit speak within us, but we should not pile up words, as the Gentiles do, thinking that in their many words they will be heard. We are not trying to be heard; we are trying to hear.
February 16, 2013 - Saturday After Ash Wednesday
Isaiah 58:9-14
Psalm 86:1-6
Luke 5:27-32
In the first reading, God, speaking through the prophet Isaiah, tells Israel the proper understanding of the Sabbath. The point of the Sabbath is not so much to rest as to, for one day, do the work of God instead of our own work. God tells his people to “honor it by not following your ways, seeking your own interests, or speaking with malice.” This is also a good description of what Lent should be about. The true spirit of Lent, fasting, almsgiving, and prayer, is embodied in this idea of turning our back on our own interests. Of course, most people will still have to work during Lent at a job which serves their own interest. Not everyone can take 40 days of vacation to serve the poor. Still, just because a person cannot do something entirely does not mean they ought not do it partially. We would all greatly benefit if, for the next 40 days we all stopped following our own pursuits and began serving.
How easy it is to follow our own pursuits! Even many who claim to follow God only follow him after serving themselves. Jesus said to Levi, “Follow me.” How easy it would have been for Levi to have cleaned up his work and collected all the money sitting out on the table, first taking care of Levi’s priorities before getting around to Jesus, but, instead of telling Jesus to wait just a minute, without a thought for anything in front of him, “leaving everything behind, he got up and followed him.” The miracle recorded today is that Levi forgot. Levi forgot about the work he was doing. He forgot about the money he had collected. He forgot about whoever was next in line at the customs post. He forgot about his own interest and followed Jesus.
Again, not everyone can drop what they are doing to follow Jesus. Not everyone, but some can. Could you, like Levi, forget everything, leave it all behind and follow Jesus? Perhaps, like the rich young man, you would need to sell everything, close up shop, and then follow Jesus. Perhaps you are already where you belong, and what is left is to wake up every day and follow Jesus by doing your work with great love. The main thing is to follow Jesus, completely abandoned to his will, not doing what seems good in our own mind but having the mind of Christ.
Psalm 86:1-6
Luke 5:27-32
In the first reading, God, speaking through the prophet Isaiah, tells Israel the proper understanding of the Sabbath. The point of the Sabbath is not so much to rest as to, for one day, do the work of God instead of our own work. God tells his people to “honor it by not following your ways, seeking your own interests, or speaking with malice.” This is also a good description of what Lent should be about. The true spirit of Lent, fasting, almsgiving, and prayer, is embodied in this idea of turning our back on our own interests. Of course, most people will still have to work during Lent at a job which serves their own interest. Not everyone can take 40 days of vacation to serve the poor. Still, just because a person cannot do something entirely does not mean they ought not do it partially. We would all greatly benefit if, for the next 40 days we all stopped following our own pursuits and began serving.
How easy it is to follow our own pursuits! Even many who claim to follow God only follow him after serving themselves. Jesus said to Levi, “Follow me.” How easy it would have been for Levi to have cleaned up his work and collected all the money sitting out on the table, first taking care of Levi’s priorities before getting around to Jesus, but, instead of telling Jesus to wait just a minute, without a thought for anything in front of him, “leaving everything behind, he got up and followed him.” The miracle recorded today is that Levi forgot. Levi forgot about the work he was doing. He forgot about the money he had collected. He forgot about whoever was next in line at the customs post. He forgot about his own interest and followed Jesus.
Again, not everyone can drop what they are doing to follow Jesus. Not everyone, but some can. Could you, like Levi, forget everything, leave it all behind and follow Jesus? Perhaps, like the rich young man, you would need to sell everything, close up shop, and then follow Jesus. Perhaps you are already where you belong, and what is left is to wake up every day and follow Jesus by doing your work with great love. The main thing is to follow Jesus, completely abandoned to his will, not doing what seems good in our own mind but having the mind of Christ.
February 15, 2013 - Friday After Ash Wednesday
Isaiah 58:1-9
Psalm 51:3-6, 18-19
Matthew 9:14-15
The Gospel today reminds us of the special experience of the disciples of Jesus. They did not need to fast because he was there. If they wanted to pray, they could just go find Jesus and sit at his feet and listen to the words he spoke. In the Gospels, Jesus only appears to us when he is saying or doing something of great importance, but the disciples lived with him every day. They ate dinner with him. They slept wherever he was sleeping.
The fact that the disciples did not fast teaches us about fasting. Fasting is supposed to create a longing within us. This longing is always present, but we usually answer it with food or television or other diversions. This longing is a longing for God. We only answer it with lesser things because it is difficult to know God in this world, but, if God were present as Jesus was present to his disciples, we would never eat when we were not hungry, we would never zone out with television.
If a hungry man cannot get food, perhaps he will chew on bark or something else to pass the time, but, when he has food, he will throw away the bark and begin to eat. So we also, when we get to heaven and live in the presence of God, will throw away whatever we have used to quiet our longing for God. Here and now it is painful to throw these things away, since it is easier to eat a bag of potato chips than to pray for an hour. Still, we force ourselves to fast so that we do not forget what we really want, so that we do not forget what the longing is really for.
As we fast this Lent and rediscover our longing for God, we must be careful to not find a substitute for what we have given up. Particularly if you have given up television or the internet, you may find that you have literally hours of extra time each day. Now is not the time to become an avid reader of novels. Use the time for the other Lenten practices: prayer and almsgiving. Help those in need. Read the Scriptures. Spend some time in Adoration. If our fast is the kind of fast that God loves, it will turn us outward to God and to our neighbor.
Psalm 51:3-6, 18-19
Matthew 9:14-15
The Gospel today reminds us of the special experience of the disciples of Jesus. They did not need to fast because he was there. If they wanted to pray, they could just go find Jesus and sit at his feet and listen to the words he spoke. In the Gospels, Jesus only appears to us when he is saying or doing something of great importance, but the disciples lived with him every day. They ate dinner with him. They slept wherever he was sleeping.
The fact that the disciples did not fast teaches us about fasting. Fasting is supposed to create a longing within us. This longing is always present, but we usually answer it with food or television or other diversions. This longing is a longing for God. We only answer it with lesser things because it is difficult to know God in this world, but, if God were present as Jesus was present to his disciples, we would never eat when we were not hungry, we would never zone out with television.
If a hungry man cannot get food, perhaps he will chew on bark or something else to pass the time, but, when he has food, he will throw away the bark and begin to eat. So we also, when we get to heaven and live in the presence of God, will throw away whatever we have used to quiet our longing for God. Here and now it is painful to throw these things away, since it is easier to eat a bag of potato chips than to pray for an hour. Still, we force ourselves to fast so that we do not forget what we really want, so that we do not forget what the longing is really for.
As we fast this Lent and rediscover our longing for God, we must be careful to not find a substitute for what we have given up. Particularly if you have given up television or the internet, you may find that you have literally hours of extra time each day. Now is not the time to become an avid reader of novels. Use the time for the other Lenten practices: prayer and almsgiving. Help those in need. Read the Scriptures. Spend some time in Adoration. If our fast is the kind of fast that God loves, it will turn us outward to God and to our neighbor.
February 14, 2013 - Thursday After Ash Wednesday
Deuteronomy 30:15-20
Psalm 1:4, 6
Luke 9:22-25
“If anyone wishes to come after me….” How gently does our Savior invite us! Who can hear this offer and refuse? “If anyone wishes to come after me….” I do. What do I need to do? “…they must deny themself and take up their cross daily and follow me.” Here is that Lenten trio again: fasting, almsgiving, and prayer.
“They must deny themself” We do this through fasting, not only from food but also from all of the pacifiers we use to quiet our souls’ longing for God: entertainment and comfort and other pleasures. When we deny ourselves we experience a kind of suffering, but this suffering can be very addictive; it is actually joy.
“Take up their cross daily” Sometimes, when people talk about this verse, they speak of our cross as our suffering. Anything from arthritis to disabilities to other people can be called a cross. This is a half-truth. The central mystery of the cross is not that Jesus suffered and died, but that he suffered and died for us. A cross is not whatever difficulties we have in life. Everyone has difficulties. We take up the daily cross when we embrace suffering in order to assist another, either directly or by offering some suffering to God for them. Indeed any suffering we experience in life can be a cross, but only if we embrace it and offer it. We are most conformed to the cross when the work we do for others is the source of our suffering. Agreeing to help someone we dislike can be a way of the cross; from beginning to end we may be suffering physically or mentally or with wounded pride. Take up such crosses daily.
“Follow me” To follow someone simply means to be with them, wherever they go. Our way of being with God is prayer. Prayer is a conversation we have with God, and, like any good conversation, includes both speaking and listening. As we converse with God, chains will bind our heart to him. Then, no matter where the world goes, we will stay close to him.
Prayer, fasting, and almsgiving can seem cold and theoretical. Jesus is inviting us, in a personal way, to take up these essential spiritual practices. Above all, he is drawing our attention to the fact that he himself has taken them up already. In our Lenten journey, when it is difficult, we should remember that we are coming after Jesus, who has made this journey ahead of us.
Psalm 1:4, 6
Luke 9:22-25
“If anyone wishes to come after me….” How gently does our Savior invite us! Who can hear this offer and refuse? “If anyone wishes to come after me….” I do. What do I need to do? “…they must deny themself and take up their cross daily and follow me.” Here is that Lenten trio again: fasting, almsgiving, and prayer.
“They must deny themself” We do this through fasting, not only from food but also from all of the pacifiers we use to quiet our souls’ longing for God: entertainment and comfort and other pleasures. When we deny ourselves we experience a kind of suffering, but this suffering can be very addictive; it is actually joy.
“Take up their cross daily” Sometimes, when people talk about this verse, they speak of our cross as our suffering. Anything from arthritis to disabilities to other people can be called a cross. This is a half-truth. The central mystery of the cross is not that Jesus suffered and died, but that he suffered and died for us. A cross is not whatever difficulties we have in life. Everyone has difficulties. We take up the daily cross when we embrace suffering in order to assist another, either directly or by offering some suffering to God for them. Indeed any suffering we experience in life can be a cross, but only if we embrace it and offer it. We are most conformed to the cross when the work we do for others is the source of our suffering. Agreeing to help someone we dislike can be a way of the cross; from beginning to end we may be suffering physically or mentally or with wounded pride. Take up such crosses daily.
“Follow me” To follow someone simply means to be with them, wherever they go. Our way of being with God is prayer. Prayer is a conversation we have with God, and, like any good conversation, includes both speaking and listening. As we converse with God, chains will bind our heart to him. Then, no matter where the world goes, we will stay close to him.
Prayer, fasting, and almsgiving can seem cold and theoretical. Jesus is inviting us, in a personal way, to take up these essential spiritual practices. Above all, he is drawing our attention to the fact that he himself has taken them up already. In our Lenten journey, when it is difficult, we should remember that we are coming after Jesus, who has made this journey ahead of us.
October 11, 2012 - Thursday of the Twenty-seventh Week in Ordinary Time
Galatians 3:1-5
Luke 1:69-75
Luke 11:5-13
When a parent gives something to their child, they are showing their love. They provide for their children because they love their children. It is the tendency of fallen humans to be selfish, to hold onto what is good, but this tendency is broken when a parent looks at their child. Suddenly, the desire to be generous is overwhelming. Every parent wants to give their children the whole world. A man might be selfish and mean and ruthless, but still have big plans for all that he could provide for his son.
This is one of the great dangers of our current culture of birth control. Becoming a parent changes a person for the better. They suddenly have to think beyond themself. As people delay having children into their twenties, and into their thirties, and into their forties, they extend their own childhood, their own period of self-concern. Consider the parable of Jesus today. Who is the person who persistently asks for something until we get out of bed to get it? It is not our neighbor. It is a child who will not stop crying until they get what they need. No one knows persistence like the parents of a newborn. They learn generosity through suffering because no matter how much they hate getting out of bed, their love for their child will make them answer their cries.
That is how we are supposed to be with God. As a newborn calls out to its mother for food and comfort, so we should be in prayer. God has amazing gifts to give us, but he cannot give them to us until we ask. If we ask once, perhaps we do not even know what we are asking for. When we ask twice, we begin to feel the need. But only after we have asked again and again, persistently, will we begin to know what we are asking for, and only once we know that longing are we ready to receive the gift. God will not leave us emptyhanded. God has promised to provide for us, and he will do it. He is a father who keeps his promises. He promised to send a Savior into the world who was powerful enough to free us from our enemies, and he did. He promised to send his Holy Spirit on the Church, and he did.
Luke 1:69-75
Luke 11:5-13
When a parent gives something to their child, they are showing their love. They provide for their children because they love their children. It is the tendency of fallen humans to be selfish, to hold onto what is good, but this tendency is broken when a parent looks at their child. Suddenly, the desire to be generous is overwhelming. Every parent wants to give their children the whole world. A man might be selfish and mean and ruthless, but still have big plans for all that he could provide for his son.
This is one of the great dangers of our current culture of birth control. Becoming a parent changes a person for the better. They suddenly have to think beyond themself. As people delay having children into their twenties, and into their thirties, and into their forties, they extend their own childhood, their own period of self-concern. Consider the parable of Jesus today. Who is the person who persistently asks for something until we get out of bed to get it? It is not our neighbor. It is a child who will not stop crying until they get what they need. No one knows persistence like the parents of a newborn. They learn generosity through suffering because no matter how much they hate getting out of bed, their love for their child will make them answer their cries.
That is how we are supposed to be with God. As a newborn calls out to its mother for food and comfort, so we should be in prayer. God has amazing gifts to give us, but he cannot give them to us until we ask. If we ask once, perhaps we do not even know what we are asking for. When we ask twice, we begin to feel the need. But only after we have asked again and again, persistently, will we begin to know what we are asking for, and only once we know that longing are we ready to receive the gift. God will not leave us emptyhanded. God has promised to provide for us, and he will do it. He is a father who keeps his promises. He promised to send a Savior into the world who was powerful enough to free us from our enemies, and he did. He promised to send his Holy Spirit on the Church, and he did.
October 10, 2012 - Wednesday of the Twenty-seventh Week in Ordinary Time
Galatians 2:1-2, 7-14
Psalm 117:1-2
Luke 11:1-4
The Gospel today raises the question of what Jesus really said. You surely noticed that the Our Father in the Gospel today is rather different from the Our Father that we usually pray. The difference between the Our Father that we usually pray, from Matthew, and the prayer from Luke that we read today are more than just translation issues. This prayer is not even the “Our Father”, it just starts “Father”.
It is not uncommon for Matthew and Luke to relate different versions of events. This can often be explained by saying that both versions occurred. It should not surprise us that Jesus preached two similar but not identical sermons. The differences in the beatitudes, for instance, can be explained in this way. However, it hard to believe that the disciples asked Jesus how to pray more than once and he gave them two versions of the Our Father.
So what are we to think about the faithfulness of the Gospels? The shorter version of the Our Father makes sense if we just assume that Luke got it from someone with a rather poor memory, but if we begin assuming that bad memories are at play in the Gospels, what can we trust? Scholars are far more likely to assume that Luke’s version is original and that Matthew expanded his version, and it is true that there is nothing in Matthew’s version that is not implied in Luke’s, but the devotion of Christians to the Our Father, to the Lord’s Prayer, is precisely because it was written by Jesus Christ, the Son of God, God himself. We want the original!
If we relied on ourselves to reinterpret Christianity with each passing generation, some of us would switch to this Our Father, some of us would stay with Matthew’s version, and some of us would throw up our hands and say, “Let’s forget the whole thing, if we can’t even get the Our Father right.”
It is good to read the Scriptures and seek wisdom from them, but while the Scriptures are the revelation of God to us, our individual interpretation cannot be the final authority, lest the 2 billion Christians have 2 billion Christianities. Nowhere in the Bible does it tell us which Our Father to pray. We must rely on Tradition. The Church has prayed Matthew’s version for thousands of years. This Tradition is more convincing than any scholarly argument or personal feeling. Tradition is also divine revelation.
Psalm 117:1-2
Luke 11:1-4
The Gospel today raises the question of what Jesus really said. You surely noticed that the Our Father in the Gospel today is rather different from the Our Father that we usually pray. The difference between the Our Father that we usually pray, from Matthew, and the prayer from Luke that we read today are more than just translation issues. This prayer is not even the “Our Father”, it just starts “Father”.
It is not uncommon for Matthew and Luke to relate different versions of events. This can often be explained by saying that both versions occurred. It should not surprise us that Jesus preached two similar but not identical sermons. The differences in the beatitudes, for instance, can be explained in this way. However, it hard to believe that the disciples asked Jesus how to pray more than once and he gave them two versions of the Our Father.
So what are we to think about the faithfulness of the Gospels? The shorter version of the Our Father makes sense if we just assume that Luke got it from someone with a rather poor memory, but if we begin assuming that bad memories are at play in the Gospels, what can we trust? Scholars are far more likely to assume that Luke’s version is original and that Matthew expanded his version, and it is true that there is nothing in Matthew’s version that is not implied in Luke’s, but the devotion of Christians to the Our Father, to the Lord’s Prayer, is precisely because it was written by Jesus Christ, the Son of God, God himself. We want the original!
If we relied on ourselves to reinterpret Christianity with each passing generation, some of us would switch to this Our Father, some of us would stay with Matthew’s version, and some of us would throw up our hands and say, “Let’s forget the whole thing, if we can’t even get the Our Father right.”
It is good to read the Scriptures and seek wisdom from them, but while the Scriptures are the revelation of God to us, our individual interpretation cannot be the final authority, lest the 2 billion Christians have 2 billion Christianities. Nowhere in the Bible does it tell us which Our Father to pray. We must rely on Tradition. The Church has prayed Matthew’s version for thousands of years. This Tradition is more convincing than any scholarly argument or personal feeling. Tradition is also divine revelation.
September 26, 2012 - Wednesday of the Twenty-fifth Week in Ordinary Time
Proverbs 30:5-9
Psalm 119:29, 72, 89, 101, 104, 163
Luke 9:1-6
In our first reading there is a prayer by Agur son of Jakeh. He asks God for neither poverty nor riches. He is concerned about being so poor that he would steal or being so rich that he would deny God. Many people pray every day to be rich. People pray to win the lottery. There might be just as much prayer in casinos as in churches. When we are asking for riches, what are we really asking for? There are people who make more each day than you or I will make in our whole lives but never have the most valuable thing in the world: Enough.
All we want is enough. Riches can buy luxuries, but what do we want luxuries for? If a human is chasing after luxuries, then they have forgotten the purpose of this life, perhaps they do not even know why they are alive. Did God make this whole universe, this planet and the sun and the other stars, the life of this planet and then create us, just so that we could chase after luxuries? The point of life is to seek God. In the meantime, we just hope to have enough for each day so that we can seek God without worrying about starving or where we will sleep each night.
We do find it very difficult though to get through each day without knowing where tomorrow’s enough will come from. Even if we have enough today, we can be distracted from the true purpose of our lives by worrying about tomorrow. Even if we have enough for this year, we worry about next year. This seems like just responsible planning, but Jesus, in today’s Gospel and in other places, tells us that the ideal Christian life would be to live day-to-day praying just for our daily bread, never worrying about the future. It is a difficult problem, balancing personal responsibility against trust in God. I am not telling you that I know the answer to how each person should make this balance in their own life. Some people are called to be like St. Francis, completely on the side of trust. Other people are called to have a retirement plan and take care of the St. Francis’s of the world. But no one should completely forget about this radical call of the Christian life: to ask God simply for enough for today, no more, no less.
Psalm 119:29, 72, 89, 101, 104, 163
Luke 9:1-6
In our first reading there is a prayer by Agur son of Jakeh. He asks God for neither poverty nor riches. He is concerned about being so poor that he would steal or being so rich that he would deny God. Many people pray every day to be rich. People pray to win the lottery. There might be just as much prayer in casinos as in churches. When we are asking for riches, what are we really asking for? There are people who make more each day than you or I will make in our whole lives but never have the most valuable thing in the world: Enough.
All we want is enough. Riches can buy luxuries, but what do we want luxuries for? If a human is chasing after luxuries, then they have forgotten the purpose of this life, perhaps they do not even know why they are alive. Did God make this whole universe, this planet and the sun and the other stars, the life of this planet and then create us, just so that we could chase after luxuries? The point of life is to seek God. In the meantime, we just hope to have enough for each day so that we can seek God without worrying about starving or where we will sleep each night.
We do find it very difficult though to get through each day without knowing where tomorrow’s enough will come from. Even if we have enough today, we can be distracted from the true purpose of our lives by worrying about tomorrow. Even if we have enough for this year, we worry about next year. This seems like just responsible planning, but Jesus, in today’s Gospel and in other places, tells us that the ideal Christian life would be to live day-to-day praying just for our daily bread, never worrying about the future. It is a difficult problem, balancing personal responsibility against trust in God. I am not telling you that I know the answer to how each person should make this balance in their own life. Some people are called to be like St. Francis, completely on the side of trust. Other people are called to have a retirement plan and take care of the St. Francis’s of the world. But no one should completely forget about this radical call of the Christian life: to ask God simply for enough for today, no more, no less.
September 6, 2012 - Thursday of the Twenty-second Week in Ordinary Time
1 Corinthians 3:18-23
Psalm 24:1-6
Luke 5:1-11
St. Peter would not have considered himself a wise man. He was a simple man, a fisherman, but he did think that he knew a thing or two about fishing. He at least would have claimed for himself this kind of practical wisdom. He knew what time of day to go fishing, and he knew where to fish. It says a lot that he was willing to listen to Jesus. He does not say, “Carpentry and preaching is your thing; leave the fishing to me.” He warns Jesus not to expect much, but obeys his command.
All night long, while they worked hard and caught nothing, perhaps they wondered were God was. Maybe they even prayed for fish and saw no answer to their prayers. They did not know that the night without fish was a preparation for the sign that Jesus would work. They did not know that their prayers, their desires, their needs would all be answered in the morning. During the hours of the night, if someone had come and said, “Now where is your God who promises to provide for you?” They would have had no answer.
One night, one year, 50 years: it does not matter. Just because God has not answered our prayers yet does not mean that he will not answer them. We do not know what he will do, in his own time. Are we so wise that we can tell God what he should be doing? We should let him know our needs and desires. He is our Father. We should tell him these things when we pray. But then, when we do not receive what we ask for within our timeframe, our attitude should not be that of the spoiled child who kicks and screams but of the trusting child who keeps asking while never doubting that they will receive.
The day will come when we receive what we ask for. Sometimes we will not wait long. Sometimes the whole night will pass, the opportunity will seem over, and then the answer comes. Everything belongs to us: the world, life, death, the present, the future, all belong to us, and we belong to God. I trust that God’s time is better than my time and his answer is better than what I asked for. Not better in a resigned-to-fate-I-suppose-that-is-better kind of way. Better in a I-would-not-exchange-it-for-what-I-thought-I-wanted-even-if-I-could kind of way.
Psalm 24:1-6
Luke 5:1-11
St. Peter would not have considered himself a wise man. He was a simple man, a fisherman, but he did think that he knew a thing or two about fishing. He at least would have claimed for himself this kind of practical wisdom. He knew what time of day to go fishing, and he knew where to fish. It says a lot that he was willing to listen to Jesus. He does not say, “Carpentry and preaching is your thing; leave the fishing to me.” He warns Jesus not to expect much, but obeys his command.
All night long, while they worked hard and caught nothing, perhaps they wondered were God was. Maybe they even prayed for fish and saw no answer to their prayers. They did not know that the night without fish was a preparation for the sign that Jesus would work. They did not know that their prayers, their desires, their needs would all be answered in the morning. During the hours of the night, if someone had come and said, “Now where is your God who promises to provide for you?” They would have had no answer.
One night, one year, 50 years: it does not matter. Just because God has not answered our prayers yet does not mean that he will not answer them. We do not know what he will do, in his own time. Are we so wise that we can tell God what he should be doing? We should let him know our needs and desires. He is our Father. We should tell him these things when we pray. But then, when we do not receive what we ask for within our timeframe, our attitude should not be that of the spoiled child who kicks and screams but of the trusting child who keeps asking while never doubting that they will receive.
The day will come when we receive what we ask for. Sometimes we will not wait long. Sometimes the whole night will pass, the opportunity will seem over, and then the answer comes. Everything belongs to us: the world, life, death, the present, the future, all belong to us, and we belong to God. I trust that God’s time is better than my time and his answer is better than what I asked for. Not better in a resigned-to-fate-I-suppose-that-is-better kind of way. Better in a I-would-not-exchange-it-for-what-I-thought-I-wanted-even-if-I-could kind of way.
August 30, 2012 - Thursday of the Twenty-First Week in Ordinary Time
1 Corinthians 1:1-9
Psalm 145:2-7
Matthew 24:42-51
“Stay awake!”, Jesus tells us. There are two kinds of tired: exhausted and frustrated; these are our enemies. Exhaustion and frustration are the enemies of man going all the way back to the beginning. When Adam sinned, God told Adam that he would now get his bread by the sweat of his brow and that thorns and thistles would grow instead of fruit. When Jesus says “Stay awake”, he is being metaphorical (we are allowed to go to bed each night), so what does it mean to stay awake in a world as exhausting and frustrating as this one?
The master of the house would have stayed awake if he knew the day and hour when his house would be robbed. We do not know when Jesus is coming, so we ought to be, in every moment, the way that we want to be when Jesus comes. Someday Jesus will show up out of the clouds and this whole earth will end. When that hour comes, I would like to be in church, having just gone to confession, either that or helping a poor person get something to eat. How do you want to be on that day? Well, what if today is that day?
This idea is made clearer in the second parable. The servant is frustrated. He has been on his best behavior, but his master has not come home to see it, so he “begins to beat his fellow servants and eat and drink with drunkards.” Clearly, this is what he wanted to do all along. He kept up the façade of being a good servant as long as he could, but it was a lot of work and he was not getting anything out of it.
Now the metaphor is clear: falling asleep means giving up. Have you ever been tempted to give up being good? Being good in this life is exhausting and frustrating; it is tiring. All this work seems to be getting us nowhere. If heaven is real, it will all be worth it, I am sure, but who can be certain that heaven is real? How are we supposed to stay awake when life is this tiring? So many people would not think of starting work each day without a cup or two of coffee or a mug of Mountain Dew, yet how many will start the more difficult work of becoming perfect each day without prayer! If being good is making you tired, and you are thinking of giving up, ask God for the energy you need to keep going, to stay awake.
Psalm 145:2-7
Matthew 24:42-51
“Stay awake!”, Jesus tells us. There are two kinds of tired: exhausted and frustrated; these are our enemies. Exhaustion and frustration are the enemies of man going all the way back to the beginning. When Adam sinned, God told Adam that he would now get his bread by the sweat of his brow and that thorns and thistles would grow instead of fruit. When Jesus says “Stay awake”, he is being metaphorical (we are allowed to go to bed each night), so what does it mean to stay awake in a world as exhausting and frustrating as this one?
The master of the house would have stayed awake if he knew the day and hour when his house would be robbed. We do not know when Jesus is coming, so we ought to be, in every moment, the way that we want to be when Jesus comes. Someday Jesus will show up out of the clouds and this whole earth will end. When that hour comes, I would like to be in church, having just gone to confession, either that or helping a poor person get something to eat. How do you want to be on that day? Well, what if today is that day?
This idea is made clearer in the second parable. The servant is frustrated. He has been on his best behavior, but his master has not come home to see it, so he “begins to beat his fellow servants and eat and drink with drunkards.” Clearly, this is what he wanted to do all along. He kept up the façade of being a good servant as long as he could, but it was a lot of work and he was not getting anything out of it.
Now the metaphor is clear: falling asleep means giving up. Have you ever been tempted to give up being good? Being good in this life is exhausting and frustrating; it is tiring. All this work seems to be getting us nowhere. If heaven is real, it will all be worth it, I am sure, but who can be certain that heaven is real? How are we supposed to stay awake when life is this tiring? So many people would not think of starting work each day without a cup or two of coffee or a mug of Mountain Dew, yet how many will start the more difficult work of becoming perfect each day without prayer! If being good is making you tired, and you are thinking of giving up, ask God for the energy you need to keep going, to stay awake.
June 21, 2012 - Memorial of Saint Aloysius Gonzaga, religious
Sirach 48:1-14
Psalm 97:1-7
Matthew 6:7-15
The reason we pray is not to change God but to change ourselves. We cannot change God, not in any way. We cannot change his mind. If he has determined to do something, he will do it no matter what we say. Could we convince him otherwise? We are not smarter than him. We would not want to if we could. We do not know better than he does. He knows what we need before we ask him. So the point of prayer is not to change God but to change ourselves. We are the ones who do not know what we need. Prayer is not about telling God what to do. It is in prayer that we discover what God wants to do for us.
So long as we are in ignorance of our own deepest desires, prayer can seem useless. We ask God for things, but he does not give them. But what if he did give us what we asked for? What would happen then? I do not know. Only God knows. And he loves us. So I can only presume that he knows what he is doing and that what he is doing is for my good. I do not have to understand why God does what he does. I trust him; I trust him completely.
The first petition of the prayer Jesus teaches us today is “thy kingdom come” which is asking God to take charge of the world, of my world, of my life. I do not want to rule myself. I would not vote for myself as president of my own life. I want God to be my king. I want his will to be done on earth, where I am, just like it is in heaven right now. If God is ruling over my life, what could I possibly be afraid of?
I do know what I need above all else. I do know what God’s will for me is first and foremost. “Hallowed be they name.” All sin makes us think that we are the center of the universe and this makes us sad. Prayer teaches us that God is the center of the universe. Once we know that, we can relax and be happy. We can trust God. Let him be in control. He knows what he is doing, and he loves us. The universe is a beautiful place when God is in charge.
Psalm 97:1-7
Matthew 6:7-15
The reason we pray is not to change God but to change ourselves. We cannot change God, not in any way. We cannot change his mind. If he has determined to do something, he will do it no matter what we say. Could we convince him otherwise? We are not smarter than him. We would not want to if we could. We do not know better than he does. He knows what we need before we ask him. So the point of prayer is not to change God but to change ourselves. We are the ones who do not know what we need. Prayer is not about telling God what to do. It is in prayer that we discover what God wants to do for us.
So long as we are in ignorance of our own deepest desires, prayer can seem useless. We ask God for things, but he does not give them. But what if he did give us what we asked for? What would happen then? I do not know. Only God knows. And he loves us. So I can only presume that he knows what he is doing and that what he is doing is for my good. I do not have to understand why God does what he does. I trust him; I trust him completely.
The first petition of the prayer Jesus teaches us today is “thy kingdom come” which is asking God to take charge of the world, of my world, of my life. I do not want to rule myself. I would not vote for myself as president of my own life. I want God to be my king. I want his will to be done on earth, where I am, just like it is in heaven right now. If God is ruling over my life, what could I possibly be afraid of?
I do know what I need above all else. I do know what God’s will for me is first and foremost. “Hallowed be they name.” All sin makes us think that we are the center of the universe and this makes us sad. Prayer teaches us that God is the center of the universe. Once we know that, we can relax and be happy. We can trust God. Let him be in control. He knows what he is doing, and he loves us. The universe is a beautiful place when God is in charge.
June 20, 2012 - Wednesday of the Eleventh Week in Ordinary Time
2 Kings 2:1, 6-14
Psalm 31:20-21, 24
Matthew 6:1-6, 16-18
Sometimes people quote Jesus here and suggest that what he means is that our religious expression should be entirely private, done in the privacy of our bedrooms. I do not say this lightly, but clearly Jesus did not really mean that we should go into our own rooms to pray even though he says it. How am I so sure? Because that is such an anachronistic idea. None of the people whom Jesus was preaching to had their own room. Most of them shared a two room house. One room was for the cattle and the other room was for the family. And the whole house was no bigger than most of our bedrooms. To hear this statement and then apply it unthinkingly to 21st century American conditions does not lead to a proper understanding.
Indeed, the word Jesus uses does not even mean bedroom, which concept would have been unknown. The word is more like walk-in safe. The word refers to the room that a king would have in his castle to keep the valuables. Even most of us do not have one of those.
So what did Jesus mean, if he did not mean that we should literally go pray in the inner closet of our house? The common interpretation over the past 2000 years has said that he was referring to the inner closet of our hearts. It was not until modern buildings that anyone could have imagined that it would be taken literally.
If the inner closet was for keeping valuables away from thieves, then the inner closet of our hearts is where we keep what we most value. There is the right place to speak to God. Go right in among all the things that you hold most sacred, and speak to God there. If we find that this storeroom is not appropriate, if it is filled with worldly and ungodly things that we value, we should clean it out and fill it with the Holy Spirit. This is what prayer is really about, Jesus is saying. Not impressing people or seeming devoted to God. Prayer is going into the deepest place of our souls, clearing out the mess, and filling it with God. If we just try and do that, then God, who sees in secret, will give us the great gift of himself which we can treasure in that inner storeroom.
Psalm 31:20-21, 24
Matthew 6:1-6, 16-18
Sometimes people quote Jesus here and suggest that what he means is that our religious expression should be entirely private, done in the privacy of our bedrooms. I do not say this lightly, but clearly Jesus did not really mean that we should go into our own rooms to pray even though he says it. How am I so sure? Because that is such an anachronistic idea. None of the people whom Jesus was preaching to had their own room. Most of them shared a two room house. One room was for the cattle and the other room was for the family. And the whole house was no bigger than most of our bedrooms. To hear this statement and then apply it unthinkingly to 21st century American conditions does not lead to a proper understanding.
Indeed, the word Jesus uses does not even mean bedroom, which concept would have been unknown. The word is more like walk-in safe. The word refers to the room that a king would have in his castle to keep the valuables. Even most of us do not have one of those.
So what did Jesus mean, if he did not mean that we should literally go pray in the inner closet of our house? The common interpretation over the past 2000 years has said that he was referring to the inner closet of our hearts. It was not until modern buildings that anyone could have imagined that it would be taken literally.
If the inner closet was for keeping valuables away from thieves, then the inner closet of our hearts is where we keep what we most value. There is the right place to speak to God. Go right in among all the things that you hold most sacred, and speak to God there. If we find that this storeroom is not appropriate, if it is filled with worldly and ungodly things that we value, we should clean it out and fill it with the Holy Spirit. This is what prayer is really about, Jesus is saying. Not impressing people or seeming devoted to God. Prayer is going into the deepest place of our souls, clearing out the mess, and filling it with God. If we just try and do that, then God, who sees in secret, will give us the great gift of himself which we can treasure in that inner storeroom.
June 17, 2012 - Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time
Ezekiel 17:22-24
Psalm 92:2-3, 13-16
2 Corinthians 5:6-10
Mark 4:26-34
I think that a modern person might be tempted to quibble with Jesus’ parable. Jesus says that the seed sprouts and grows but the one who planted it does not know how. Well, that certainly was true 2000 years ago but is it still true? I might not know exactly how a plant sprouts and grows, but lots of biologists do, and if I wanted to I am sure that I could look up on Wikipedia a detailed account down to the exact biochemical processes that cause the seed to react to water and grow into new life.
Indeed, all of science is dedicated to changing the situation that Jesus describes throughout the Gospels, but especially in the Gospel reading today. There was a time when humans had rain come down and could not predict it days in advance. There was a time when we looked at the moon and did not have pieces of it stored away in warehouses.
And it is not only science but cultural progress too. For many of us, our only experience of seed growing into plants is when we planted the beans in Dixie cups in third grade. Even a lot of our gardening these days is done with plants that were grown in greenhouses. The whole concept of taking a precious portion of the food for the year and putting it in the ground with expectation that it would grow into more food for next year is lost on us. That experience of subsistence farming that all those who heard Jesus would have known personally is foreign to us, even most of those who farm these days with GPS and combines.
So when we have a Gospel like the one today, science and progress are the enemies of understanding. Sure we understand intellectually the point that he is making, but we cannot feel its impact because of how separated we are from the realities he is speaking of. What is the solution? We could live like the Amish do and get back in touch with the realities. Some people do that, but it is not very practical. One can be romantic about it, but modern medicine and modern harvest yields are miracles that we can only thank God for.
We can imagine what life would be like if the whole world seemed magical again, if our continued existence depended on the success of a crop that we planted with our own hands. Of course, our imagination will always fall short, but it is a powerful tool for getting in touch with the readings today. A person does well to spend time imagining life out of the Bible: what it would be like to be one of that crowd that was fed with a little bread and fish, what it would be like to walk on water with Jesus, what it would be like to plant a small field and depend entirely on the success of something that we only have a tiny bit of control over.
We live in a world that is very different from the experience that Jesus lived in. Our world has changed in amazing ways in just the last 20 years, and who can guess correctly what the world 20 years from now will be like? It would be great if Jesus came and told us some parables about cell phones and the internet. “The Kingdom of Heaven is like an iPhone.”
But since that is not going to happen, we are left with the important question: is the Bible becoming irrelevant? Many people say that the world has changed a lot and so most of the stories in the Bible need to get updated, especially most of the morality. Something was taught by Jesus and believed for century after century, but we know better now.
This is the great modern struggle: the idea that sometimes the older is better. By the end of two years, I am unhappy with the old technology in my phone that used to be the very best. If 1.0 was good, 2.0 is better. How can we, in a world that is constantly changing, appreciate the value of those things that never change? We want to see the latest viral video, but every time you come to Church we read from the same old book, and Mass is celebrated the same old way. What does it say about us that “same old” is not a compliment?
Our God is the same old God. He existed before time, and he is never going to change. The universe we live in will always be the same old universe. No matter how much scientific progress we make, no matter what is invented in the future, our situation is the same old human situation. What matters, what really matters, is the same old thing that always mattered. What TV shows we have seen, what our high score on Doodle Jump is, how fast our computer is: these things only matter in this world and even then not really. How much we loved other people and how much we loved God: this is what matters.
We all must appear before the judgment seat of Christ and be repaid according to what we did in the body, whether good or evil. That is the same today as when it was written 2000 years ago. That fact, which ought to define how we live our life here, will never change. Whether, 20 years from now, we are all driving flying cars and have robot servants or we are all back to subsistence farming after some big disaster, how we treat other people and how we stretch our minds to reach out to God is all that will matter, because it is all that matters right now and it is all that has ever mattered.
Being mean to people is bad, whether you hit them with a stick or insult them on Facebook. Daily prayer is good, whether you take time away from hopscotch or video games. Even as we become more and more separated from the parables about farming and herding sheep, the point of the parables still apply. Even if we have figured out how plants grow, we will never know how the Kingdom of God is working in this world, how people are brought to greater faith in subtle ways that are not visible day to day but add up over a whole season. And that is what matters.
Psalm 92:2-3, 13-16
2 Corinthians 5:6-10
Mark 4:26-34
I think that a modern person might be tempted to quibble with Jesus’ parable. Jesus says that the seed sprouts and grows but the one who planted it does not know how. Well, that certainly was true 2000 years ago but is it still true? I might not know exactly how a plant sprouts and grows, but lots of biologists do, and if I wanted to I am sure that I could look up on Wikipedia a detailed account down to the exact biochemical processes that cause the seed to react to water and grow into new life.
Indeed, all of science is dedicated to changing the situation that Jesus describes throughout the Gospels, but especially in the Gospel reading today. There was a time when humans had rain come down and could not predict it days in advance. There was a time when we looked at the moon and did not have pieces of it stored away in warehouses.
And it is not only science but cultural progress too. For many of us, our only experience of seed growing into plants is when we planted the beans in Dixie cups in third grade. Even a lot of our gardening these days is done with plants that were grown in greenhouses. The whole concept of taking a precious portion of the food for the year and putting it in the ground with expectation that it would grow into more food for next year is lost on us. That experience of subsistence farming that all those who heard Jesus would have known personally is foreign to us, even most of those who farm these days with GPS and combines.
So when we have a Gospel like the one today, science and progress are the enemies of understanding. Sure we understand intellectually the point that he is making, but we cannot feel its impact because of how separated we are from the realities he is speaking of. What is the solution? We could live like the Amish do and get back in touch with the realities. Some people do that, but it is not very practical. One can be romantic about it, but modern medicine and modern harvest yields are miracles that we can only thank God for.
We can imagine what life would be like if the whole world seemed magical again, if our continued existence depended on the success of a crop that we planted with our own hands. Of course, our imagination will always fall short, but it is a powerful tool for getting in touch with the readings today. A person does well to spend time imagining life out of the Bible: what it would be like to be one of that crowd that was fed with a little bread and fish, what it would be like to walk on water with Jesus, what it would be like to plant a small field and depend entirely on the success of something that we only have a tiny bit of control over.
We live in a world that is very different from the experience that Jesus lived in. Our world has changed in amazing ways in just the last 20 years, and who can guess correctly what the world 20 years from now will be like? It would be great if Jesus came and told us some parables about cell phones and the internet. “The Kingdom of Heaven is like an iPhone.”
But since that is not going to happen, we are left with the important question: is the Bible becoming irrelevant? Many people say that the world has changed a lot and so most of the stories in the Bible need to get updated, especially most of the morality. Something was taught by Jesus and believed for century after century, but we know better now.
This is the great modern struggle: the idea that sometimes the older is better. By the end of two years, I am unhappy with the old technology in my phone that used to be the very best. If 1.0 was good, 2.0 is better. How can we, in a world that is constantly changing, appreciate the value of those things that never change? We want to see the latest viral video, but every time you come to Church we read from the same old book, and Mass is celebrated the same old way. What does it say about us that “same old” is not a compliment?
Our God is the same old God. He existed before time, and he is never going to change. The universe we live in will always be the same old universe. No matter how much scientific progress we make, no matter what is invented in the future, our situation is the same old human situation. What matters, what really matters, is the same old thing that always mattered. What TV shows we have seen, what our high score on Doodle Jump is, how fast our computer is: these things only matter in this world and even then not really. How much we loved other people and how much we loved God: this is what matters.
We all must appear before the judgment seat of Christ and be repaid according to what we did in the body, whether good or evil. That is the same today as when it was written 2000 years ago. That fact, which ought to define how we live our life here, will never change. Whether, 20 years from now, we are all driving flying cars and have robot servants or we are all back to subsistence farming after some big disaster, how we treat other people and how we stretch our minds to reach out to God is all that will matter, because it is all that matters right now and it is all that has ever mattered.
Being mean to people is bad, whether you hit them with a stick or insult them on Facebook. Daily prayer is good, whether you take time away from hopscotch or video games. Even as we become more and more separated from the parables about farming and herding sheep, the point of the parables still apply. Even if we have figured out how plants grow, we will never know how the Kingdom of God is working in this world, how people are brought to greater faith in subtle ways that are not visible day to day but add up over a whole season. And that is what matters.
April 24, 2012 - Tuesday of the Third Week of Easter
Today's Readings
Stephen reminds the Jews that prophets are always persecuted. This is true. Being persecuted is an essential part of being a prophet. A prophet who was welcomed easily by the world would not be a prophet at all. A prophet faces resistance because they tell the world what the world does not want to hear. The world resists the prophet for two reasons: first, because they do not want to hear the message and second, because they do not know that he is a true prophet.
Discerning whether a prophet is a true prophet is very difficult. We are told to stay faithful to what was handed down to us. If a prophet comes and tells us something new, how are we supposed to know whether we should resist it and stay faithful or accept the new interpretation? Many voices are pretending to be prophets, telling us to ignore some part of the faith, often a moral teaching. This call for us to abandon what was handed on may even be phrased as if it were a new interpretation from God.
How could the Jews have known that when Stephen said that there was no need anymore for animal sacrifices, he was teaching the teaching of God? Jesus Christ was the final sacrifice; he offers himself forever to the Father. We know this, but the Jews did not. They knew the teaching of Moses, and Stephen was teaching that the sacrifices of Moses were now complete. We should disagree with their decision to kill Stephen, but we can sympathize with their conundrum. If Stephen were lying, they should ignore him, no matter how convincing he seemed.
The Jews in the Gospel suggest a test of Jesus to see whether he really is from God. They ask for a sign. Jesus had already given them many signs, but false prophets often perform false miracles. We know, for Jesus has told us so. Real, solid faith comes from God alone. Nothing will ever convince us if we begin by doubting God. Faith is a gift from God.
All true prophets are send by God. If a person does not know God in prayer and righteousness, they ought not expect to recognize a prophet. There is no need for us to be gullible people; we do not need to trust anyone peddling the latest crackpot theory. If someone is truly a prophet, God will tell us, but for our part, we must be listening.
Stephen reminds the Jews that prophets are always persecuted. This is true. Being persecuted is an essential part of being a prophet. A prophet who was welcomed easily by the world would not be a prophet at all. A prophet faces resistance because they tell the world what the world does not want to hear. The world resists the prophet for two reasons: first, because they do not want to hear the message and second, because they do not know that he is a true prophet.
Discerning whether a prophet is a true prophet is very difficult. We are told to stay faithful to what was handed down to us. If a prophet comes and tells us something new, how are we supposed to know whether we should resist it and stay faithful or accept the new interpretation? Many voices are pretending to be prophets, telling us to ignore some part of the faith, often a moral teaching. This call for us to abandon what was handed on may even be phrased as if it were a new interpretation from God.
How could the Jews have known that when Stephen said that there was no need anymore for animal sacrifices, he was teaching the teaching of God? Jesus Christ was the final sacrifice; he offers himself forever to the Father. We know this, but the Jews did not. They knew the teaching of Moses, and Stephen was teaching that the sacrifices of Moses were now complete. We should disagree with their decision to kill Stephen, but we can sympathize with their conundrum. If Stephen were lying, they should ignore him, no matter how convincing he seemed.
The Jews in the Gospel suggest a test of Jesus to see whether he really is from God. They ask for a sign. Jesus had already given them many signs, but false prophets often perform false miracles. We know, for Jesus has told us so. Real, solid faith comes from God alone. Nothing will ever convince us if we begin by doubting God. Faith is a gift from God.
All true prophets are send by God. If a person does not know God in prayer and righteousness, they ought not expect to recognize a prophet. There is no need for us to be gullible people; we do not need to trust anyone peddling the latest crackpot theory. If someone is truly a prophet, God will tell us, but for our part, we must be listening.
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