Ezekiel 18:21-28
Psalm 130:1-8
Matthew 5:20-26
“If you, O Lord, mark iniquities, who can stand?” We have just repeated this verse several times, but it really does need to be hammered into our heads. We are not good enough; no one is. The world is not divided between the virtuous and the wicked, between the good and the bad. We are all bad. We might not have killed anyone, or committed a crime that would send us to prison. We might be what the world calls “a basically good person”. This does not matter. We know the reality behind the façade we show the world. We not only make mistakes, doing or saying something before thinking about it, but we consciously make bad decisions. We are not perfect and anything less than perfect is not good enough.
The first reading demonstrates the problems we face. The wicked man can easily convert, and his whole life is forgotten in favor of his new attitude. Likewise, the virtuous man can easily fall and do something wicked and his whole life is forgotten because of his sin. These are not two different men but one man. We should each recognize ourselves in these portraits, how easily we go from wickedness to virtue and back. A person can, in the course of an hour, sin and convert and sin again.
Jesus tells us that our righteousness must exceed that of the scribes and Pharisees. These were people who tried as hard as they could to be good, to follow every law. We are not going to beat the Pharisees at their own game. We need something different. We have something different in humble repentance. In the first reading, the wicked man who repents is saved but the virtuous man who falls is condemned. If we see ourselves as “basically good”, we are going to fall. Pride comes before the fall.
If we acknowledge our wickedness, if we admit that we do not love God as we should and we do not love our neighbors nearly as much as ourselves, we are on the path to repentance. Humility comes before the conversion. The twelve steps of Alcoholics Anonymous are rooted in Christian spirituality. The first step, “We admitted we were powerless—that our lives had become unmanageable”, is not some special status of alcoholics. This is the attitude that we all must have in the face of sin.
Daily Homilies
Showing posts with label Humility. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Humility. Show all posts
July 6, 2014 - Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Zechariah 9.9-10
Psalm 145.1-2, 8-9, 10-11, 13-14 Resp. 1
Romans 8.9, 11-13
Matthew 11.25-30
If we are ever lost in reverie, looking up at the sky and thinking how nice it would be to live on a cloud, after a few seconds, perhaps even a minute, we look back at the earth at forget about clouds. Listening to the Gospels should not be like cloud appreciation. We should not hear the words of Jesus and think, “isn’t that such a nice idea”, and then go back to our daily drudgery. Jesus is making us an offer. He is making you an offer. He wants to make your life easier. Jesus says to you, “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.” Are you tired? Are you exhausted with life? Jesus tells us, “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart, and you will find rest for yourselves.” This is not a scam. He is not making up fluffy, useless religious sayings. This is real advice, for our benefit, which we ought to take seriously.
Our Lord is meek and humble of heart, and he wants us to learn from him because he sees that we labor and are burdened and we wants to give us rest. Although the labor and burdens of our daily work might be what first comes to our mind, it does not seem that Jesus is offering us rest from those. If he were, his solution seems insufficient. How could it help us to be meek and humble of heart? The meek and humble do not often have less work in this world; indeed they often have more, and more difficult, work.
If Jesus is not promising us rest from our work, he must be referring to other labor and burdens. If we learned to have a heart like Jesus, meek and humble, even though we would still have work to do each day, our load would lightened. The opposite of humility is pride. Pride must be the burden which Jesus is offering us relief from.
The suggestion that pride is weighing us down might offend us at first. A person might not think that they have so much pride, or perhaps they know someone with a great deal of pride who does not seem to be burdened. We should not worry though, for the moment, about other people and their pride. Let us just consider how pride has been burdening us.
Do you spend time worrying about what other people think of you? Are you worried that you have not accomplished enough in this life? Are you upset because someone else has taken credit for your ideas and your work? Do you lie awake at night thinking about how angry you are with someone you cannot forgive? Does it concern you that people misjudge you and misunderstand you? Do you feel like you deserve more material possessions in this life, at least as much as so-and-so has? Are you afraid that you are losing the rat race?
Those are a lot of burdens! Those, and many burdens like them, are the real burdens. If we could be rid of them, life would be much more bearable, no matter what labors we have in this world. “But wait,” you are perhaps saying to yourself, “you do not understand. I have a real grievance with the world. I have been treated unfairly. I have not been given what I deserve.” I do understand though. I do not doubt that every single person here has been treated unfairly and some people have been seriously misused, but I am not the one recommending humility and meekness; Jesus is, and he is the most abused person in the history of the world. Who has been treated as unfairly as he has?
He says that we should learn from him, that we should take his yoke upon us and learn from him. To teach a young ox how to plow, a farmer would yoke it up with an experienced ox. The experienced ox would know what to do and the young ox would be forced to come along and learn. Jesus offers us his credentials, “I am meek and humble of heart.” We need to let Jesus drag us around while we learn from him; we need to do whatever we see him doing.
What did Jesus do when the Samaritans would not let him walk through their town? He walked around. What did Jesus do when the Pharisees and Sadducees tried to trick him with questions? He answered them and taught them. What did Jesus do when they crowned him with thorns and spit on him? He picked up his Cross and carried it to where he would die. What did Jesus do in the end, after all the abuse and torture and completely unfair treatment? He asked the Father to forgive them since they did not know what they were doing.
Does this mean that we should allow others to treat us badly without complaining? Yes. This is just another reason why a religious vocation is better than a secular vocation: those who have vowed poverty, chastity, and obedience are free to lay down all the burdens of pride. Someone like Blessed Mother Teresa can find rest in the midst of exhausting work, terrible living conditions, and cruel accusations. Someone like St. Martin de Porres can go through life being treated like less than a human being.
St. Francis once said the following about perfect joy: “When we come to the monastery, soaked by the rain and frozen by the cold, all soiled with mud and suffering from hunger, and we ring at the gate of the place and the brother porter comes and says angrily: ‘Who are you?’ And we say: ‘We are two of your brothers.’ And he contradicts us, saying: ‘You are not telling the truth. Rather you are two rascals who go around deceiving people and stealing what they give to the poor. Go away’ And he does not open for us, but makes us stand outside in the snow and rain, cold and hungry, until night falls-then if we endure all those insults and cruel rebuffs patiently, without being troubled and without complaining, and if we reflect humbly and charitably that that porter really knows us and that God makes him speak against us, oh, Brother Leo, write that perfect joy is there!”
We who live in the world cannot experience this perfect joy always, the rest that Jesus offers. The world and the people of this world will try to take every advantage of us possible. We who live in the world will have to keep some burdens, so that society can continue to function. We will have to, at times, fight for our rights and the rights of others, but this responsibility should not prevent us from finding rest where we can by being humble and meek: letting others mistreat us, letting others take more than their share, working hard in this world without credit, forgiving those who do not even know that they wronged us.
Will we only hear the Gospel today or will we actually do what Jesus says?
Psalm 145.1-2, 8-9, 10-11, 13-14 Resp. 1
Romans 8.9, 11-13
Matthew 11.25-30
If we are ever lost in reverie, looking up at the sky and thinking how nice it would be to live on a cloud, after a few seconds, perhaps even a minute, we look back at the earth at forget about clouds. Listening to the Gospels should not be like cloud appreciation. We should not hear the words of Jesus and think, “isn’t that such a nice idea”, and then go back to our daily drudgery. Jesus is making us an offer. He is making you an offer. He wants to make your life easier. Jesus says to you, “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.” Are you tired? Are you exhausted with life? Jesus tells us, “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart, and you will find rest for yourselves.” This is not a scam. He is not making up fluffy, useless religious sayings. This is real advice, for our benefit, which we ought to take seriously.
Our Lord is meek and humble of heart, and he wants us to learn from him because he sees that we labor and are burdened and we wants to give us rest. Although the labor and burdens of our daily work might be what first comes to our mind, it does not seem that Jesus is offering us rest from those. If he were, his solution seems insufficient. How could it help us to be meek and humble of heart? The meek and humble do not often have less work in this world; indeed they often have more, and more difficult, work.
If Jesus is not promising us rest from our work, he must be referring to other labor and burdens. If we learned to have a heart like Jesus, meek and humble, even though we would still have work to do each day, our load would lightened. The opposite of humility is pride. Pride must be the burden which Jesus is offering us relief from.
The suggestion that pride is weighing us down might offend us at first. A person might not think that they have so much pride, or perhaps they know someone with a great deal of pride who does not seem to be burdened. We should not worry though, for the moment, about other people and their pride. Let us just consider how pride has been burdening us.
Do you spend time worrying about what other people think of you? Are you worried that you have not accomplished enough in this life? Are you upset because someone else has taken credit for your ideas and your work? Do you lie awake at night thinking about how angry you are with someone you cannot forgive? Does it concern you that people misjudge you and misunderstand you? Do you feel like you deserve more material possessions in this life, at least as much as so-and-so has? Are you afraid that you are losing the rat race?
Those are a lot of burdens! Those, and many burdens like them, are the real burdens. If we could be rid of them, life would be much more bearable, no matter what labors we have in this world. “But wait,” you are perhaps saying to yourself, “you do not understand. I have a real grievance with the world. I have been treated unfairly. I have not been given what I deserve.” I do understand though. I do not doubt that every single person here has been treated unfairly and some people have been seriously misused, but I am not the one recommending humility and meekness; Jesus is, and he is the most abused person in the history of the world. Who has been treated as unfairly as he has?
He says that we should learn from him, that we should take his yoke upon us and learn from him. To teach a young ox how to plow, a farmer would yoke it up with an experienced ox. The experienced ox would know what to do and the young ox would be forced to come along and learn. Jesus offers us his credentials, “I am meek and humble of heart.” We need to let Jesus drag us around while we learn from him; we need to do whatever we see him doing.
What did Jesus do when the Samaritans would not let him walk through their town? He walked around. What did Jesus do when the Pharisees and Sadducees tried to trick him with questions? He answered them and taught them. What did Jesus do when they crowned him with thorns and spit on him? He picked up his Cross and carried it to where he would die. What did Jesus do in the end, after all the abuse and torture and completely unfair treatment? He asked the Father to forgive them since they did not know what they were doing.
Does this mean that we should allow others to treat us badly without complaining? Yes. This is just another reason why a religious vocation is better than a secular vocation: those who have vowed poverty, chastity, and obedience are free to lay down all the burdens of pride. Someone like Blessed Mother Teresa can find rest in the midst of exhausting work, terrible living conditions, and cruel accusations. Someone like St. Martin de Porres can go through life being treated like less than a human being.
St. Francis once said the following about perfect joy: “When we come to the monastery, soaked by the rain and frozen by the cold, all soiled with mud and suffering from hunger, and we ring at the gate of the place and the brother porter comes and says angrily: ‘Who are you?’ And we say: ‘We are two of your brothers.’ And he contradicts us, saying: ‘You are not telling the truth. Rather you are two rascals who go around deceiving people and stealing what they give to the poor. Go away’ And he does not open for us, but makes us stand outside in the snow and rain, cold and hungry, until night falls-then if we endure all those insults and cruel rebuffs patiently, without being troubled and without complaining, and if we reflect humbly and charitably that that porter really knows us and that God makes him speak against us, oh, Brother Leo, write that perfect joy is there!”
We who live in the world cannot experience this perfect joy always, the rest that Jesus offers. The world and the people of this world will try to take every advantage of us possible. We who live in the world will have to keep some burdens, so that society can continue to function. We will have to, at times, fight for our rights and the rights of others, but this responsibility should not prevent us from finding rest where we can by being humble and meek: letting others mistreat us, letting others take more than their share, working hard in this world without credit, forgiving those who do not even know that they wronged us.
Will we only hear the Gospel today or will we actually do what Jesus says?
June 24, 2014 - Solemnity of the Nativity of Saint John the Baptist
Isaiah 49.1-6
Psalm 139.1b-3, 13-14ab, 14c-15 Resp. 14
Acts 13.22-26
Luke 1.57-66, 80
Today we commemorate the birth of a great prophet, and not just a prophet, but he of whom it was said, “Behold I am sending my messenger before your face, who will prepare your way before you. A voice of one crying out in the wilderness, “Prepare ye the way of the Lord.”
The feast of Christmas, coincidentally, is placed near the winter solstice, near the darkest day of the year. The feast of John the Baptist, symbolically, is placed opposite Christmas, near the summer solstice, the lightest day of the year. In the northern hemisphere, the sun strengthens every day after Christmas and weakens every day after the feast of John the Baptist. This yearly astronomical event is a sign to us of the difference between the two men. John signals the end of something, something decreasing and fading away. When he says that he must decrease, he is not speaking only for himself but for the entire prophetic tradition of Israel. Jesus is causing something new to happen, something increasing.
John the Baptist marks the end of the age of prophecy. He is the last in a long line of the great prophets of Israel: Elijah, Elisha, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Daniel, and many others. Yet John was greater than all of these former prophets. He was greater than all before him inasmuch as the message he proclaimed was greater than theirs. They proclaimed justice, but he proclaimed the Just One. They proclaimed mercy, but he proclaimed the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.
John the Baptist is great because, from his mother’s womb, he was a perfect instrument of God. God planned for him to prepare the way for Jesus. Before he was born, God had dedicated him as a prophet to the nations. His first prophecy took place while he was still inside his mother. Nevertheless, for all of his greatness, the character of John the Baptist in the Gospels is above all humble. He decreased; Jesus increased. He freely told his disciples to follow Jesus. He was never jealous of Jesus.
Thanks be to God for the great gift he sent in John the Baptist, but let us remember the words of Jesus. “The least in the Kingdom of Heaven is greater than he.” Every single one of us who are baptized into the Kingdom ought to exceed the humility and obedience of John. Not by our own strength, but through the power of the Holy Spirit.
Psalm 139.1b-3, 13-14ab, 14c-15 Resp. 14
Acts 13.22-26
Luke 1.57-66, 80
Today we commemorate the birth of a great prophet, and not just a prophet, but he of whom it was said, “Behold I am sending my messenger before your face, who will prepare your way before you. A voice of one crying out in the wilderness, “Prepare ye the way of the Lord.”
The feast of Christmas, coincidentally, is placed near the winter solstice, near the darkest day of the year. The feast of John the Baptist, symbolically, is placed opposite Christmas, near the summer solstice, the lightest day of the year. In the northern hemisphere, the sun strengthens every day after Christmas and weakens every day after the feast of John the Baptist. This yearly astronomical event is a sign to us of the difference between the two men. John signals the end of something, something decreasing and fading away. When he says that he must decrease, he is not speaking only for himself but for the entire prophetic tradition of Israel. Jesus is causing something new to happen, something increasing.
John the Baptist marks the end of the age of prophecy. He is the last in a long line of the great prophets of Israel: Elijah, Elisha, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Daniel, and many others. Yet John was greater than all of these former prophets. He was greater than all before him inasmuch as the message he proclaimed was greater than theirs. They proclaimed justice, but he proclaimed the Just One. They proclaimed mercy, but he proclaimed the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.
John the Baptist is great because, from his mother’s womb, he was a perfect instrument of God. God planned for him to prepare the way for Jesus. Before he was born, God had dedicated him as a prophet to the nations. His first prophecy took place while he was still inside his mother. Nevertheless, for all of his greatness, the character of John the Baptist in the Gospels is above all humble. He decreased; Jesus increased. He freely told his disciples to follow Jesus. He was never jealous of Jesus.
Thanks be to God for the great gift he sent in John the Baptist, but let us remember the words of Jesus. “The least in the Kingdom of Heaven is greater than he.” Every single one of us who are baptized into the Kingdom ought to exceed the humility and obedience of John. Not by our own strength, but through the power of the Holy Spirit.
March 14, 2014 - Friday of the First Week of Lent
Ezekiel 18:21-28
Psalm 130:1-8
Matthew 5:20-26
“If you, O Lord, mark iniquities, who can stand?” We have just repeated this verse several times, but it really does need to be hammered into our heads. We are not good enough; no one is. The world is not divided between the virtuous and the wicked, between the good and the bad. We are all bad. We might not have killed anyone, or committed a crime that would send us to prison. We might be what the world calls “a basically good person”. This does not matter. We know the reality behind the façade we show the world. We not only make mistakes, doing or saying something before thinking about it, but we consciously make bad decisions. We are not perfect and anything less than perfect is not good enough.
The first reading demonstrates the problems we face. The wicked man can easily convert, and his whole life is forgotten in favor of his new attitude. Likewise, the virtuous man can easily fall and do something wicked and his whole life is forgotten because of his sin. These are not two different men but one man. We should each recognize ourselves in these portraits, how easily we go from wickedness to virtue and back. A person can, in the course of an hour, sin and convert and sin again.
Jesus tells us that our righteousness must exceed that of the scribes and Pharisees. These were people who tried as hard as they could to be good, to follow every law. We are not going to beat the Pharisees at their own game. We need something different. We have something different in humble repentance. In the first reading, the wicked man who repents is saved but the virtuous man who falls is condemned. If we see ourselves as “basically good”, we are going to fall. Pride comes before the fall.
If we acknowledge our wickedness, if we admit that we do not love God as we should and we do not love our neighbors nearly as much as ourselves, we are on the path to repentance. Humility comes before the conversion. The twelve steps of Alcoholics Anonymous are rooted in Christian spirituality. The first step, “We admitted we were powerless—that our lives had become unmanageable”, is not some special status of alcoholics. This is the attitude that we all must have in the face of sin.
Psalm 130:1-8
Matthew 5:20-26
“If you, O Lord, mark iniquities, who can stand?” We have just repeated this verse several times, but it really does need to be hammered into our heads. We are not good enough; no one is. The world is not divided between the virtuous and the wicked, between the good and the bad. We are all bad. We might not have killed anyone, or committed a crime that would send us to prison. We might be what the world calls “a basically good person”. This does not matter. We know the reality behind the façade we show the world. We not only make mistakes, doing or saying something before thinking about it, but we consciously make bad decisions. We are not perfect and anything less than perfect is not good enough.
The first reading demonstrates the problems we face. The wicked man can easily convert, and his whole life is forgotten in favor of his new attitude. Likewise, the virtuous man can easily fall and do something wicked and his whole life is forgotten because of his sin. These are not two different men but one man. We should each recognize ourselves in these portraits, how easily we go from wickedness to virtue and back. A person can, in the course of an hour, sin and convert and sin again.
Jesus tells us that our righteousness must exceed that of the scribes and Pharisees. These were people who tried as hard as they could to be good, to follow every law. We are not going to beat the Pharisees at their own game. We need something different. We have something different in humble repentance. In the first reading, the wicked man who repents is saved but the virtuous man who falls is condemned. If we see ourselves as “basically good”, we are going to fall. Pride comes before the fall.
If we acknowledge our wickedness, if we admit that we do not love God as we should and we do not love our neighbors nearly as much as ourselves, we are on the path to repentance. Humility comes before the conversion. The twelve steps of Alcoholics Anonymous are rooted in Christian spirituality. The first step, “We admitted we were powerless—that our lives had become unmanageable”, is not some special status of alcoholics. This is the attitude that we all must have in the face of sin.
February 24, 2014 - Monday of the Seventh Week in Ordinary Time
James 3:13-18
Psalm 19:8-10, 15
Mark 9:14-29
St. James speaks today of the humility of wisdom. What is the humility of wisdom? It can be easily seen by looking first at its opposite: the pride of fools. So many people, whether on television or Facebook or among friends, loudly and assuredly speak on topics which they do not understand. Two kinds of people are absolutely sure: someone who after years of study has reached a few limited conclusions and someone who does not know the first thing that they are talking about.
Even when we can be absolutely sure, wisdom still insists on humility. I am sure that it is wrong to kill a baby, whether it has been born or not, and I believe that maturity and study has not made me less confident in this belief but more. Humility will never make me question whether perhaps circumstances can exist where killing a child is a good thing, but humility, the humility of wisdom, does make me cautious. Those who are ignorant of the great evil of killing are not pure evil themselves. There are probably people who work at Planned Parenthood who genuinely, although wrongly, are trying to do good.
Humble wisdom comes from God. The wisdom from heaven is first of all pure since no lie can be a part of wisdom. It is peaceful, not violent even when faced with uncontrollable foolishness. It is gentle, not pushy or sarcastic or mean-spirited or rude. It listens to others, and can be convinced that it was wrong or misunderstood some aspect of the question. It is full of mercy, because we realize that we are sinners in need of mercy. It bears good fruits, spreading truth and righteousness in the world. It is without partiality: it does not favor any conclusion in the search for truth. It is without hypocrisy: there is no hidden agenda.
This kind of wisdom comes only from God. It is a supernatural gift of the Holy Spirit. We cannot learn to be wise. We cannot fake such profound wisdom. We would go wrong in one direction or another: being unsure of what is true or being certain of our own opinions. If Christians could work no miracle except to be wise with this gift of the Holy Spirit, that would be convincing to the world. If we would let God give us this gift, letting go of personal opinions and prideful confidence, we would be shining examples to the world.
Psalm 19:8-10, 15
Mark 9:14-29
St. James speaks today of the humility of wisdom. What is the humility of wisdom? It can be easily seen by looking first at its opposite: the pride of fools. So many people, whether on television or Facebook or among friends, loudly and assuredly speak on topics which they do not understand. Two kinds of people are absolutely sure: someone who after years of study has reached a few limited conclusions and someone who does not know the first thing that they are talking about.
Even when we can be absolutely sure, wisdom still insists on humility. I am sure that it is wrong to kill a baby, whether it has been born or not, and I believe that maturity and study has not made me less confident in this belief but more. Humility will never make me question whether perhaps circumstances can exist where killing a child is a good thing, but humility, the humility of wisdom, does make me cautious. Those who are ignorant of the great evil of killing are not pure evil themselves. There are probably people who work at Planned Parenthood who genuinely, although wrongly, are trying to do good.
Humble wisdom comes from God. The wisdom from heaven is first of all pure since no lie can be a part of wisdom. It is peaceful, not violent even when faced with uncontrollable foolishness. It is gentle, not pushy or sarcastic or mean-spirited or rude. It listens to others, and can be convinced that it was wrong or misunderstood some aspect of the question. It is full of mercy, because we realize that we are sinners in need of mercy. It bears good fruits, spreading truth and righteousness in the world. It is without partiality: it does not favor any conclusion in the search for truth. It is without hypocrisy: there is no hidden agenda.
This kind of wisdom comes only from God. It is a supernatural gift of the Holy Spirit. We cannot learn to be wise. We cannot fake such profound wisdom. We would go wrong in one direction or another: being unsure of what is true or being certain of our own opinions. If Christians could work no miracle except to be wise with this gift of the Holy Spirit, that would be convincing to the world. If we would let God give us this gift, letting go of personal opinions and prideful confidence, we would be shining examples to the world.
February 19, 2014 - Wednesday of the Sixth Week in Ordinary Time
James 1:19-27
Psalm 15:2-5
Mark 8:22-26
St. James tells us to be quick to hear and slow to speak. This is very good advice. When someone else speaks, listening is an act of great humility. To listen to someone else is the best way to tell them that they are important, important enough to listen to. But we do not only listen for the sake of the other person, for their feelings or so that they will think well of us. If we did that, we would be hypocrites. We listen because we genuinely believe that we do not know everything. It is not possible to be a Christian without humility. “If anyone thinks that they are religious but does not bridle their tongue, they deceive their heart: their religion is vanity.”
St. James also tells us to be slow to anger. The relationship between the anger and Christianity is not easy to parse. On the one hand, Jesus says things like turn the other cheek. On the other hand, Jesus was angry and made a whip and cast all the money changers out of the Temple. So there must be such a thing as righteous anger. But St. James's reason why we should be slow to anger is that anger does not accomplish the righteousness of God, and that is correct. Anger does not accomplish anything. Anger is about stopping something. Sometimes it is necessary to stop evil, but what does that accomplish if we never start doing good?
There is a lot of evil in this world. No matter where we look, we are likely to find someone doing something wrong. It is too easy to just be angry. There will never be a shortage of reasons to be angry. So what if, instead of getting angry, we decide to do something positive. Anger does not accomplish the righteousness of God, so we should work to accomplish the righteousness of God.
The world needs changing. If we commit ourselves to doing good in this world, we can change the world. There are so many things we cannot control. Rather than becoming angry at our weakness, we should accomplish whatever we can. I cannot stop selfishness, but I can stop being selfish. I cannot force the government to take care of the poor, but I can take care of the poor. I cannot force people to follow the true morality, but I can, to the best of my ability, assisted by God's grace, be moral.
Psalm 15:2-5
Mark 8:22-26
St. James tells us to be quick to hear and slow to speak. This is very good advice. When someone else speaks, listening is an act of great humility. To listen to someone else is the best way to tell them that they are important, important enough to listen to. But we do not only listen for the sake of the other person, for their feelings or so that they will think well of us. If we did that, we would be hypocrites. We listen because we genuinely believe that we do not know everything. It is not possible to be a Christian without humility. “If anyone thinks that they are religious but does not bridle their tongue, they deceive their heart: their religion is vanity.”
St. James also tells us to be slow to anger. The relationship between the anger and Christianity is not easy to parse. On the one hand, Jesus says things like turn the other cheek. On the other hand, Jesus was angry and made a whip and cast all the money changers out of the Temple. So there must be such a thing as righteous anger. But St. James's reason why we should be slow to anger is that anger does not accomplish the righteousness of God, and that is correct. Anger does not accomplish anything. Anger is about stopping something. Sometimes it is necessary to stop evil, but what does that accomplish if we never start doing good?
There is a lot of evil in this world. No matter where we look, we are likely to find someone doing something wrong. It is too easy to just be angry. There will never be a shortage of reasons to be angry. So what if, instead of getting angry, we decide to do something positive. Anger does not accomplish the righteousness of God, so we should work to accomplish the righteousness of God.
The world needs changing. If we commit ourselves to doing good in this world, we can change the world. There are so many things we cannot control. Rather than becoming angry at our weakness, we should accomplish whatever we can. I cannot stop selfishness, but I can stop being selfish. I cannot force the government to take care of the poor, but I can take care of the poor. I cannot force people to follow the true morality, but I can, to the best of my ability, assisted by God's grace, be moral.
January 14, 2014 - Tuesday of the First Week in Ordinary Time
1 Samuel 1:9-20
1 Samuel 2:1, 4-8
Mark 1:21-28
Presumption is the source of such great evil in our world. People presume that they understand another’s motivations. People presume that they know what is going on. They judge their neighbor. What an example we have today, when Eli, the head priest, walks up to Hannah and starts reprimanding her publicly for being drunk when actually she was praying. And Eli was a righteous man. He was a good priest. But what he did here was wrong.
We give priests great honor, which is right since they stand in the person of Christ. Jesus forgives our sins through the ministry of the priest. He turns bread and wine into his Body and Blood through the words of the priest. The priest inasmuch as he is a priest, is Jesus Christ, but inasmuch as he remains himself, he is a fallen man like any of us. The problem is, how do we give so much respect to a person’s office while still being ready to ignore and forgive or even condemn the man for what he does and says?
People have left the faith because of words that a priest spoke. Perhaps what the priest said was right, perhaps it was wrong, but they hurt. They were hurt by a priest, so they turn away from the Church. It does not make any logical sense: whether a priest has offended us has nothing to do with whether Jesus Christ is the Son of God and our Savior, but these people are not thinking logically. They have been hurt, so they want to exercise what power they can against the one who has hurt them.
What good does this do? I am hurt, so I react with anger and hurt someone else or just hurt myself. This does not make the world a better place. What is needed is humility, and Hannah provides such an example of humility. She would have been fully justified in letting Eli have it, either to his face or by leaving and grumbling about it later. Instead she humbly insists that his accusation is untrue and explains herself. If Eli had had Hannah’s humility, he would have been more careful. What we need is humility before we hurt other and humility when others hurt us. What we need is humility.
1 Samuel 2:1, 4-8
Mark 1:21-28
Presumption is the source of such great evil in our world. People presume that they understand another’s motivations. People presume that they know what is going on. They judge their neighbor. What an example we have today, when Eli, the head priest, walks up to Hannah and starts reprimanding her publicly for being drunk when actually she was praying. And Eli was a righteous man. He was a good priest. But what he did here was wrong.
We give priests great honor, which is right since they stand in the person of Christ. Jesus forgives our sins through the ministry of the priest. He turns bread and wine into his Body and Blood through the words of the priest. The priest inasmuch as he is a priest, is Jesus Christ, but inasmuch as he remains himself, he is a fallen man like any of us. The problem is, how do we give so much respect to a person’s office while still being ready to ignore and forgive or even condemn the man for what he does and says?
People have left the faith because of words that a priest spoke. Perhaps what the priest said was right, perhaps it was wrong, but they hurt. They were hurt by a priest, so they turn away from the Church. It does not make any logical sense: whether a priest has offended us has nothing to do with whether Jesus Christ is the Son of God and our Savior, but these people are not thinking logically. They have been hurt, so they want to exercise what power they can against the one who has hurt them.
What good does this do? I am hurt, so I react with anger and hurt someone else or just hurt myself. This does not make the world a better place. What is needed is humility, and Hannah provides such an example of humility. She would have been fully justified in letting Eli have it, either to his face or by leaving and grumbling about it later. Instead she humbly insists that his accusation is untrue and explains herself. If Eli had had Hannah’s humility, he would have been more careful. What we need is humility before we hurt other and humility when others hurt us. What we need is humility.
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.
December 13, 2012 - Thursday of the Second Week of Advent
Isaiah 41:13-20
Psalm 145:1, 9-13
Matthew 11:11-15
The Gospel today is complicated, defying easy explanation. Jesus says that there has been no one born of woman greater than John the Baptist, yet I know of two who were born of woman who are greater than John the Baptist: Jesus and Mary. And what does greater even mean? Greater in holiness or power or love of God or humility or wisdom or strength or prophecy? And if the least in the Kingdom of Heaven is greater than him, does that mean that John does not participate in the Kingdom of Heaven?
Then Jesus says that from the time of John the Baptist until now the Kingdom of Heaven suffered violence. In what way does the Kingdom suffer violence that it had not before John the Bapist? Was the disrespect for God's reign increased after John preached and baptized? Last we learn that John the Baptist is Elijah, which, taken literally, is strange since we know the story of his birth. Elijah lived 700 years earlier and was taken up in a chariot of fire. If John the Baptist were Elijah, we would expect that either people would have seen him come back in the chariot of fire or that no one would know where he came from.
It is possible to use tricks of language to make what Jesus has to say more understandable. We can say that John was playing the role of Elijah and that he was the greatest human being to live without having received the Holy Spirit as we have all received it. We can make these and many other explanations, but they cannot satisfy us.
The last words of the Gospel can guide us. "He who has ears to hear, let him hear." Jesus speaks to us and we hear him. We need not be surprised if there are things which Jesus says that we do not understand. There is a certain human pride which presumes that if we do not understand someone, it must be their problem. When something is difficult to understand, we can shoehorn it into our limited understanding or dismiss it as nonsense. We can also humbly submit that we are not capable of comprehending everything.
Psalm 145:1, 9-13
Matthew 11:11-15
The Gospel today is complicated, defying easy explanation. Jesus says that there has been no one born of woman greater than John the Baptist, yet I know of two who were born of woman who are greater than John the Baptist: Jesus and Mary. And what does greater even mean? Greater in holiness or power or love of God or humility or wisdom or strength or prophecy? And if the least in the Kingdom of Heaven is greater than him, does that mean that John does not participate in the Kingdom of Heaven?
Then Jesus says that from the time of John the Baptist until now the Kingdom of Heaven suffered violence. In what way does the Kingdom suffer violence that it had not before John the Bapist? Was the disrespect for God's reign increased after John preached and baptized? Last we learn that John the Baptist is Elijah, which, taken literally, is strange since we know the story of his birth. Elijah lived 700 years earlier and was taken up in a chariot of fire. If John the Baptist were Elijah, we would expect that either people would have seen him come back in the chariot of fire or that no one would know where he came from.
It is possible to use tricks of language to make what Jesus has to say more understandable. We can say that John was playing the role of Elijah and that he was the greatest human being to live without having received the Holy Spirit as we have all received it. We can make these and many other explanations, but they cannot satisfy us.
The last words of the Gospel can guide us. "He who has ears to hear, let him hear." Jesus speaks to us and we hear him. We need not be surprised if there are things which Jesus says that we do not understand. There is a certain human pride which presumes that if we do not understand someone, it must be their problem. When something is difficult to understand, we can shoehorn it into our limited understanding or dismiss it as nonsense. We can also humbly submit that we are not capable of comprehending everything.
December 12, 2012 - Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe
Zechariah 2:14-17 or Revelation 11:19; 12:1-6, 10
Judith 13:18-19
Luke 1:26-38 or 1:39-47
Juan Diego had twice climbed the hill of Tepeyac and twice been told by the Blessed Virgin Mary to go to the bishop and ask that a church be built on that spot and had twice gone to the bishop and been twice put off. This time, as he walked near the hill, he would not climb it, for his uncle was sick and he was hurrying to get a priest, and he had no time now for visions. So he walked around the hill, but Mary appeared anyway at the bottom of the hill, for she is not restricted like some pagan gods were. She spoke tenderly to Juan Diego and told him, “There is nothing to frighten or distress you. Am I not your mother?” She spoke like a mother to her child and promised that his uncle was fine now. So, at her command, he climbed the hill and found there, in the dead of winter, roses of many different colors. He picked them and held them in his tilma and carried them to the bishop. Here was the sign that the bishop needed to believe: roses in winter. But when he went to the bishop and let go and the roses spilled on the ground, they went unnoticed because of the change that had occurred. On the tilma there was now an image of the woman who had appeared to him. There was a woman, with the moon under her feet, clothed with the sun, wearing the traditional sash that marked a pregnant woman in the native Mexican culture.
What thousands of missionaries would be unable to accomplish in a lifetime was done by Mary in a year. Millions of people suddenly knew for certain that this Jesus whom the Spaniards spoke of was not a Spaniard. His mother had appeared right there in their land, to one of their people, speaking their language, looking like one of them. She was not on the side of the conquerors. She was, as she always has been, on the side of the poor, because she too was poor, though now a queen. She was, in her humility, able to speak to humble people. Ever since the visitation, where she carried the body of Christ to Elizabeth and John, she has been bringing Christ to people throughout the world: in Mexico, in Lourdes, in Fatima, in Wisconsin, and many other places.
Judith 13:18-19
Luke 1:26-38 or 1:39-47
Juan Diego had twice climbed the hill of Tepeyac and twice been told by the Blessed Virgin Mary to go to the bishop and ask that a church be built on that spot and had twice gone to the bishop and been twice put off. This time, as he walked near the hill, he would not climb it, for his uncle was sick and he was hurrying to get a priest, and he had no time now for visions. So he walked around the hill, but Mary appeared anyway at the bottom of the hill, for she is not restricted like some pagan gods were. She spoke tenderly to Juan Diego and told him, “There is nothing to frighten or distress you. Am I not your mother?” She spoke like a mother to her child and promised that his uncle was fine now. So, at her command, he climbed the hill and found there, in the dead of winter, roses of many different colors. He picked them and held them in his tilma and carried them to the bishop. Here was the sign that the bishop needed to believe: roses in winter. But when he went to the bishop and let go and the roses spilled on the ground, they went unnoticed because of the change that had occurred. On the tilma there was now an image of the woman who had appeared to him. There was a woman, with the moon under her feet, clothed with the sun, wearing the traditional sash that marked a pregnant woman in the native Mexican culture.
What thousands of missionaries would be unable to accomplish in a lifetime was done by Mary in a year. Millions of people suddenly knew for certain that this Jesus whom the Spaniards spoke of was not a Spaniard. His mother had appeared right there in their land, to one of their people, speaking their language, looking like one of them. She was not on the side of the conquerors. She was, as she always has been, on the side of the poor, because she too was poor, though now a queen. She was, in her humility, able to speak to humble people. Ever since the visitation, where she carried the body of Christ to Elizabeth and John, she has been bringing Christ to people throughout the world: in Mexico, in Lourdes, in Fatima, in Wisconsin, and many other places.
December 8, 2012 - Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary
Genesis 3:9-15, 20
Psalm 98:1-4
Ephesians 1:3-6, 11-12
Luke 1:26-38
How beautiful is the Gospel today! From this one reading we learn so much about our Mother. First we learn that she is greater than the angels. To whom else did an angel, a messenger of God, come and say "Hail, full of grace"? With these words Gabriel acknowledges that he is speaking to someone greater than himself. We also learn by those words that she is free from all sin, for what is sin but a denial of grace and how could someone who ever denied grace be full of grace. Sin is an emptiness, but Mary was full.
From this Gospel we also learn that Mary is betrothed to Joseph, but also vowed to a lifelong virginity. How else could she say "I have no relations with man" and not "I have not had relations with a man"? What woman, even though a virgin, would be unable to figure out the meaning of the angel's words? No woman before was promised a child without expecting to conceive that child in the normal way. Mary is betrothed to Joseph. Without a prior commitment to virginity, any reasonable girl would expect to conceive the child during her imminent marriage.
From this Gospel we learn that Mary is the Mother of God. Gabriel calls her child the Son of God. The son of a dog is a dog. The son of a human is a human. The Son of God is God. If he were not, the title would be contradictory. We can be adopted sons and daughters of God, but the Son of God, conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit, can only be God, and the Mother of the Son of God must be therefore the Mother of God.
From this Gospel we learn that Mary is courageous. St. Joseph was terrified at the prospect of having a role in raising the Son of God, so much so that he was going to divorce Mary quietly. Mary, however, asks only for the practical details before submitting to the will of God.
From this Gospel we learn that Mary is humble. She, though courageous, is afraid. What frightens her who was not afraid either of the judgement of others or the terrible responsibility of being the Mother of God? She is frightened by a greeting. She is frightened to see an archangel bow before her. We sinners would rejoice to see an angel bow to serve us, and it would be Satan dressed as an angel of light to inflate our pride. Mary, who is destined to be Queen of Heaven, is too humble to understand the greeting.
From this Gospel we ought to learn to love Mary with a tiny portion of the great love by which God preserved her free from all sin from the moment of her creation. From this Gospel we ought to learn to love God with a tiny portion of the fearless, God-fearing love by which Mary said "Behold the handmaid of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word."
Psalm 98:1-4
Ephesians 1:3-6, 11-12
Luke 1:26-38
How beautiful is the Gospel today! From this one reading we learn so much about our Mother. First we learn that she is greater than the angels. To whom else did an angel, a messenger of God, come and say "Hail, full of grace"? With these words Gabriel acknowledges that he is speaking to someone greater than himself. We also learn by those words that she is free from all sin, for what is sin but a denial of grace and how could someone who ever denied grace be full of grace. Sin is an emptiness, but Mary was full.
From this Gospel we also learn that Mary is betrothed to Joseph, but also vowed to a lifelong virginity. How else could she say "I have no relations with man" and not "I have not had relations with a man"? What woman, even though a virgin, would be unable to figure out the meaning of the angel's words? No woman before was promised a child without expecting to conceive that child in the normal way. Mary is betrothed to Joseph. Without a prior commitment to virginity, any reasonable girl would expect to conceive the child during her imminent marriage.
From this Gospel we learn that Mary is the Mother of God. Gabriel calls her child the Son of God. The son of a dog is a dog. The son of a human is a human. The Son of God is God. If he were not, the title would be contradictory. We can be adopted sons and daughters of God, but the Son of God, conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit, can only be God, and the Mother of the Son of God must be therefore the Mother of God.
From this Gospel we learn that Mary is courageous. St. Joseph was terrified at the prospect of having a role in raising the Son of God, so much so that he was going to divorce Mary quietly. Mary, however, asks only for the practical details before submitting to the will of God.
From this Gospel we learn that Mary is humble. She, though courageous, is afraid. What frightens her who was not afraid either of the judgement of others or the terrible responsibility of being the Mother of God? She is frightened by a greeting. She is frightened to see an archangel bow before her. We sinners would rejoice to see an angel bow to serve us, and it would be Satan dressed as an angel of light to inflate our pride. Mary, who is destined to be Queen of Heaven, is too humble to understand the greeting.
From this Gospel we ought to learn to love Mary with a tiny portion of the great love by which God preserved her free from all sin from the moment of her creation. From this Gospel we ought to learn to love God with a tiny portion of the fearless, God-fearing love by which Mary said "Behold the handmaid of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word."
September 30, 2012 - Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Numbers 11:25-29
Psalm 19:8, 10, 12-14
James 5:1-6
Mark 9:38-43, 45, 47-48
The stories in our first reading and Gospel today are kind of the same. In the first reading, Joshua (Moses’ disciple) tells Moses about people prophesying outside the official circle of prophecy. In the Gospel, John (Jesus’ disciple) tells Jesus about someone exorcising demons outside the official circle of discipleship. In both cases the disciples want the teacher to stop such unofficial actions. In both cases the teacher replies that they are glad that someone is using the power, even unofficially. Would Joshua rather that the prophecy of the Lord go untold? Would the disciples rather that the demons remained in the people? They have lost sight of the fact that good is being accomplished.
The disciples have a desire for a purity of religion. They want their religion to be simple and logical and follow all the rules. The teachers know that religion is logical but it is not simple because people are not simple. All the rules are followed, but the disciples do not know all the rules. It is like when you tell a child about the rule against hitting other people. Then they see a boxing match, and they want to know why the two men are breaking the rules. You can try to explain that this does not break the rule, but they are unlikely to understand why. Some children will consider the boxers to be naughty. Other children will decide that rules are meant to be broken. They will hit a fellow student and declare that they were boxing.
So in religion we start with simple rules, such as “divorce is never permissible.” That rule is true as far as it goes. Then a person sees someone who is divorced and got an annulment, and pretty soon they will either think that the Church needs to stop making so many exceptions to the rules and enforce it strictly like they did in the good old days or that the rule on divorce does not apply anymore. On the one hand we have extreme traditionalists and on the other hand extreme liberals. In reality the rule on divorce and annulments is just extremely complex and always has been.
This desire to make religion simple, or, indeed, simplistic, is in all of us. We want a simple religion that does not need a lot of explanation. We prefer “poor” to “poor in spirit”. We liked the way religion felt when we were children. Good people go to heaven. Bad people go to hell. Jesus loves us. And honestly, those statements are all true. We do not lie to children; we just simplify. When you grow up you realize that there are very few good people in the world and very few real villains. So where do all the people in the middle go? And if Jesus loves us, why is there a hell? There are answers to these questions, but they are not simple. Even the answers we have are simplified versions of the truth that is greater than any human mind.
So when Jesus came, he gave very simple teachings which need to be thought about and explained. Sometimes the literal meaning of his teachings still makes sense, like when he says “Love one another.” Sometimes it does not, like when he says “If your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out.” This does not mean that we are picking and choosing which teachings we are going to follow. Jesus gave his teachings to intelligent human beings. He knew that we would figure out what he meant, more or less. We are constantly figuring out his teachings, so that over 2000 years there have been enormous developments in doctrine. Meanwhile, we are also constantly misunderstanding so that the Church has to face new problems all the time. The Church can never change a teaching, but we can always understand it better.
For instance, there are historical figures who took Jesus literally and cut off parts of their body, but that was never very popular for obvious reasons. The principle behind the teaching is really the point: we are naïve if we leave the causes of sin lying around and hope to avoid sin nonetheless. Jesus is saying that even if the cause of sin is as beloved to us as our own right hand, we should cut it off; even if the removal would be as painful as plucking out an eye, we should not hesitate. If a person is causing you to sin, cut them off. Better to enter heaven alone than to go to hell with friends. If your television is causing you to sin, pluck it out of your home. Better to enter heaven having missed all the best episodes than to enter hell having watched them. If the internet or a kind of website is causing you to sin, sever the connection. Better to enter heaven crippled in this digital world than to enter hell well-informed. The removal of these or many other causes of sin would be hard, but not as painful as plucking out your eye. To live without television or internet in this modern age would be a serious disability, but not as bad as having a foot cut off. In other words, even if we are severe with ourselves, we will never exceed the examples that Jesus gave.
For our second reading today, St. James writes an indictment of the rich that seems literal, but he is using the word “rich” here in the way that Jesus used “poor in spirit”, to refer to an attitude, not an objective financial status. He is speaking of the rich in spirit who rob the poor for profit, who murder people who stand in their way, who live for the purpose of luxury and pleasure. The rich in spirit are totally consumed with themselves. When the end comes, they will have saved nothing of real value, they will have no treasure in heaven, everything they have will be destroyed. Someone could be rich in spirit no matter how much money they have.
We must not minimize the teaching of Jesus and look at every rule for its exceptions, but we are not being more religious if we try to take them all literally and be more Catholic than the Pope. The Church gives us the Catechism as a reference book if you want to understand some of the complexity. If you want to understand more, there is a lot to study, but, no matter how much theology we learn, what we need above all is the humility to realize that we do not understand completely. That is why we can never judge. We also need the humility to trust the teachings of Jesus and the 2000 years of understanding by the Church. With some rules of the Church, like contraception, gaymarriage, and social teaching, people will say, “I cannot understand the Church’s position.” That is fine, so long as they do not take this lack of understanding and think that it proves something. We need the humility to trust even when we do not understand, to not think that our own way of working out the issue trumps the Bible and 2000 years of tradition.
Psalm 19:8, 10, 12-14
James 5:1-6
Mark 9:38-43, 45, 47-48
The stories in our first reading and Gospel today are kind of the same. In the first reading, Joshua (Moses’ disciple) tells Moses about people prophesying outside the official circle of prophecy. In the Gospel, John (Jesus’ disciple) tells Jesus about someone exorcising demons outside the official circle of discipleship. In both cases the disciples want the teacher to stop such unofficial actions. In both cases the teacher replies that they are glad that someone is using the power, even unofficially. Would Joshua rather that the prophecy of the Lord go untold? Would the disciples rather that the demons remained in the people? They have lost sight of the fact that good is being accomplished.
The disciples have a desire for a purity of religion. They want their religion to be simple and logical and follow all the rules. The teachers know that religion is logical but it is not simple because people are not simple. All the rules are followed, but the disciples do not know all the rules. It is like when you tell a child about the rule against hitting other people. Then they see a boxing match, and they want to know why the two men are breaking the rules. You can try to explain that this does not break the rule, but they are unlikely to understand why. Some children will consider the boxers to be naughty. Other children will decide that rules are meant to be broken. They will hit a fellow student and declare that they were boxing.
So in religion we start with simple rules, such as “divorce is never permissible.” That rule is true as far as it goes. Then a person sees someone who is divorced and got an annulment, and pretty soon they will either think that the Church needs to stop making so many exceptions to the rules and enforce it strictly like they did in the good old days or that the rule on divorce does not apply anymore. On the one hand we have extreme traditionalists and on the other hand extreme liberals. In reality the rule on divorce and annulments is just extremely complex and always has been.
This desire to make religion simple, or, indeed, simplistic, is in all of us. We want a simple religion that does not need a lot of explanation. We prefer “poor” to “poor in spirit”. We liked the way religion felt when we were children. Good people go to heaven. Bad people go to hell. Jesus loves us. And honestly, those statements are all true. We do not lie to children; we just simplify. When you grow up you realize that there are very few good people in the world and very few real villains. So where do all the people in the middle go? And if Jesus loves us, why is there a hell? There are answers to these questions, but they are not simple. Even the answers we have are simplified versions of the truth that is greater than any human mind.
So when Jesus came, he gave very simple teachings which need to be thought about and explained. Sometimes the literal meaning of his teachings still makes sense, like when he says “Love one another.” Sometimes it does not, like when he says “If your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out.” This does not mean that we are picking and choosing which teachings we are going to follow. Jesus gave his teachings to intelligent human beings. He knew that we would figure out what he meant, more or less. We are constantly figuring out his teachings, so that over 2000 years there have been enormous developments in doctrine. Meanwhile, we are also constantly misunderstanding so that the Church has to face new problems all the time. The Church can never change a teaching, but we can always understand it better.
For instance, there are historical figures who took Jesus literally and cut off parts of their body, but that was never very popular for obvious reasons. The principle behind the teaching is really the point: we are naïve if we leave the causes of sin lying around and hope to avoid sin nonetheless. Jesus is saying that even if the cause of sin is as beloved to us as our own right hand, we should cut it off; even if the removal would be as painful as plucking out an eye, we should not hesitate. If a person is causing you to sin, cut them off. Better to enter heaven alone than to go to hell with friends. If your television is causing you to sin, pluck it out of your home. Better to enter heaven having missed all the best episodes than to enter hell having watched them. If the internet or a kind of website is causing you to sin, sever the connection. Better to enter heaven crippled in this digital world than to enter hell well-informed. The removal of these or many other causes of sin would be hard, but not as painful as plucking out your eye. To live without television or internet in this modern age would be a serious disability, but not as bad as having a foot cut off. In other words, even if we are severe with ourselves, we will never exceed the examples that Jesus gave.
For our second reading today, St. James writes an indictment of the rich that seems literal, but he is using the word “rich” here in the way that Jesus used “poor in spirit”, to refer to an attitude, not an objective financial status. He is speaking of the rich in spirit who rob the poor for profit, who murder people who stand in their way, who live for the purpose of luxury and pleasure. The rich in spirit are totally consumed with themselves. When the end comes, they will have saved nothing of real value, they will have no treasure in heaven, everything they have will be destroyed. Someone could be rich in spirit no matter how much money they have.
We must not minimize the teaching of Jesus and look at every rule for its exceptions, but we are not being more religious if we try to take them all literally and be more Catholic than the Pope. The Church gives us the Catechism as a reference book if you want to understand some of the complexity. If you want to understand more, there is a lot to study, but, no matter how much theology we learn, what we need above all is the humility to realize that we do not understand completely. That is why we can never judge. We also need the humility to trust the teachings of Jesus and the 2000 years of understanding by the Church. With some rules of the Church, like contraception, gaymarriage, and social teaching, people will say, “I cannot understand the Church’s position.” That is fine, so long as they do not take this lack of understanding and think that it proves something. We need the humility to trust even when we do not understand, to not think that our own way of working out the issue trumps the Bible and 2000 years of tradition.
August 18, 2012 - Saturday of the Nineteenth Week in Ordinary Time
Ezekiel 18:1-10, 13, 30-32
Psalm 51:12-15, 18-19
Matthew 19:13-15
When a child was considered property of their parents, it made sense that their parents would be punished with the death of the child. God is saying that each child is a person with their own dignity, their own responsibility. In the Gospel, the Apostles try to prevent the people from bring their children to Jesus. They consider Jesus too important to waste his time blessing children. He has sermons to give and people to heal. Jesus goes further than the prophecy of Ezekiel: He declares that children not only have an equal dignity to adults, but they are greater inasmuch as they are models for us. This sets the way of the world completely on its head. Jesus does that all the time: “Blessed are the poor.” “Love your enemy.” And now, “learn from children.”
What can we learn from a child who comes into this world knowing nothing? We can teach children math, reading, history, and every other human science. What could they possibly teach us except what we have taught them? But the Kingdom of heaven belongs to children, and we want it for ourselves too so we must learn a kind of wisdom from children.
A child is a person who literally has nothing. They have no possessions, no strength, no education. They depend on adults for everything. When we look at a child we should see someone loved so much by God, someone full of potential, someone whom we want to help in any way that we can. So we can learn from children about human dignity that is not dependent on any accomplishment or usefulness. Then, when we look at other people, we should see them the same way, without being blinded by whatever their years on earth have done; we should see the beloved child, the human dignity that is ours, unearned but unlosable.
To see that human dignity in ourself and in every person is to begin to love everyone. When we look at someone and do not think about how we can use them or even whether they impress us, we are acknowledging that there is something precious in them and in every human being. What is most precious in us is what we share in common with the version of ourself from however many years ago when we were a little child, or even from before we were born.
Psalm 51:12-15, 18-19
Matthew 19:13-15
When a child was considered property of their parents, it made sense that their parents would be punished with the death of the child. God is saying that each child is a person with their own dignity, their own responsibility. In the Gospel, the Apostles try to prevent the people from bring their children to Jesus. They consider Jesus too important to waste his time blessing children. He has sermons to give and people to heal. Jesus goes further than the prophecy of Ezekiel: He declares that children not only have an equal dignity to adults, but they are greater inasmuch as they are models for us. This sets the way of the world completely on its head. Jesus does that all the time: “Blessed are the poor.” “Love your enemy.” And now, “learn from children.”
What can we learn from a child who comes into this world knowing nothing? We can teach children math, reading, history, and every other human science. What could they possibly teach us except what we have taught them? But the Kingdom of heaven belongs to children, and we want it for ourselves too so we must learn a kind of wisdom from children.
A child is a person who literally has nothing. They have no possessions, no strength, no education. They depend on adults for everything. When we look at a child we should see someone loved so much by God, someone full of potential, someone whom we want to help in any way that we can. So we can learn from children about human dignity that is not dependent on any accomplishment or usefulness. Then, when we look at other people, we should see them the same way, without being blinded by whatever their years on earth have done; we should see the beloved child, the human dignity that is ours, unearned but unlosable.
To see that human dignity in ourself and in every person is to begin to love everyone. When we look at someone and do not think about how we can use them or even whether they impress us, we are acknowledging that there is something precious in them and in every human being. What is most precious in us is what we share in common with the version of ourself from however many years ago when we were a little child, or even from before we were born.
August 15, 2012 - Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary - Mass During the Day
Revelation 11:19; 12:1-6, 10
Psalm 45:10-12, 16
1 Corinthians 15:20-27
Luke 1:39-56
For now, there is only one human person who has experienced the Resurrection and is with the Lord, body and soul. Who is it? Is it Alexander the Great who conquered the largest empire in the history of the world? No? Is it Julius Caesar, the conquering general who refounded Rome as an empire? No? Perhaps it is Plato or Aristotle or Plotinus or some other great philosopher? No? Is it George Washington or Thomas Jefferson? No? Perhaps it is someone very wealthy, like John D. Rockefeller or Andrew Carnegie? No? Is it some movie star, like Elvis maybe? None of these? Is it a poor Jewish woman from Nazareth, the wife of a carpenter, who, but for one fact, would be completely forgotten by history books? Yes. Her.
“He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, and has lifted up the lowly.” Today we celebrate the Solemnity of the Assumption, that the Immaculate Mother of God, the ever Virgin Mary, having completed the course of her earthly life, was assumed body and soul into heavenly glory. He has lifted up the lowly. Who is lowlier than the Virgin Mother of God, except her son Jesus Christ? He has lifted up the lowly. Today there are monuments to this woman, basilicas and cathedrals, universities and hospitals, all this dedicated to this woman. There are cities named after her, and she is the patroness of countless countries in the world.
“From this day all generations will call me blessed”, she said, and we do call her blessed. She is blessed among women as the mother of Jesus Christ. She is blessed among all people as the first disciple of Jesus Christ, the first to be obedient to the Gospel, which was preached to her by St. Gabriel. She is blessed in the Gospel today by her cousin Elizabeth who, by the prophecy of her unborn son, recognized the mother of her Savior.
She is represented in Revelation as a woman, clothed with the sun, standing on the moon, crowned with 12 stars. Who else could this woman be, the mother of a male child destined to rule all nations? Satan wants to destroy her child, but he is not allowed to. Nor is he allowed to hurt the woman herself. We are told that there is a place prepared for her by God. In this place she awaits the fullness of time when the world will end and all other people will rise in the body as she already has.
Our second reading, from 1 Corinthians, we are promised that “just as in Adam all die, so too in Christ shall all be brought to life.” We see the fulfillment of that promise in Mary. Jesus rose from the dead, and that is why we can rise from the dead, but people wonder whether perhaps things are different for Jesus than for us; he is God after all. In the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, we see the first example of a human person participating in the Resurrection of Jesus Christ.
We receive a further benefit from the Assumption, beyond this example which ought to confirm our hope: now we have a mother in heaven. Jesus gave his mother to us to be our mother, the mother of all people. The other saints in heaven are waiting to rise in their bodies, so they are, for now, pure souls, but Mary is more like us, as we are now, as we will be after the Resurrection of the body. With such a sympathetic figure drawing us in, what will prevent us from reaching heaven? We have in Jesus a Savior who is the way to heaven, the only mediator between God and man, and we have in Mary a mother to help us approach Jesus.
Psalm 45:10-12, 16
1 Corinthians 15:20-27
Luke 1:39-56
For now, there is only one human person who has experienced the Resurrection and is with the Lord, body and soul. Who is it? Is it Alexander the Great who conquered the largest empire in the history of the world? No? Is it Julius Caesar, the conquering general who refounded Rome as an empire? No? Perhaps it is Plato or Aristotle or Plotinus or some other great philosopher? No? Is it George Washington or Thomas Jefferson? No? Perhaps it is someone very wealthy, like John D. Rockefeller or Andrew Carnegie? No? Is it some movie star, like Elvis maybe? None of these? Is it a poor Jewish woman from Nazareth, the wife of a carpenter, who, but for one fact, would be completely forgotten by history books? Yes. Her.
“He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, and has lifted up the lowly.” Today we celebrate the Solemnity of the Assumption, that the Immaculate Mother of God, the ever Virgin Mary, having completed the course of her earthly life, was assumed body and soul into heavenly glory. He has lifted up the lowly. Who is lowlier than the Virgin Mother of God, except her son Jesus Christ? He has lifted up the lowly. Today there are monuments to this woman, basilicas and cathedrals, universities and hospitals, all this dedicated to this woman. There are cities named after her, and she is the patroness of countless countries in the world.
“From this day all generations will call me blessed”, she said, and we do call her blessed. She is blessed among women as the mother of Jesus Christ. She is blessed among all people as the first disciple of Jesus Christ, the first to be obedient to the Gospel, which was preached to her by St. Gabriel. She is blessed in the Gospel today by her cousin Elizabeth who, by the prophecy of her unborn son, recognized the mother of her Savior.
She is represented in Revelation as a woman, clothed with the sun, standing on the moon, crowned with 12 stars. Who else could this woman be, the mother of a male child destined to rule all nations? Satan wants to destroy her child, but he is not allowed to. Nor is he allowed to hurt the woman herself. We are told that there is a place prepared for her by God. In this place she awaits the fullness of time when the world will end and all other people will rise in the body as she already has.
Our second reading, from 1 Corinthians, we are promised that “just as in Adam all die, so too in Christ shall all be brought to life.” We see the fulfillment of that promise in Mary. Jesus rose from the dead, and that is why we can rise from the dead, but people wonder whether perhaps things are different for Jesus than for us; he is God after all. In the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, we see the first example of a human person participating in the Resurrection of Jesus Christ.
We receive a further benefit from the Assumption, beyond this example which ought to confirm our hope: now we have a mother in heaven. Jesus gave his mother to us to be our mother, the mother of all people. The other saints in heaven are waiting to rise in their bodies, so they are, for now, pure souls, but Mary is more like us, as we are now, as we will be after the Resurrection of the body. With such a sympathetic figure drawing us in, what will prevent us from reaching heaven? We have in Jesus a Savior who is the way to heaven, the only mediator between God and man, and we have in Mary a mother to help us approach Jesus.
August 13, 2012 - Monday of the Nineteenth Week in Ordinary Time
Ezekiel 1:2-5, 24-28
Psalm 148:1-2, 11-14
Matthew 17:22-27
Ezekiel is so careful. He is a theologically trained prophet. He sees something with the form of a human sitting on a throne, white gold from the waist up, like fire from the waist down, the throne supported by four living creatures that looked like human beings but had wings. A less careful theologian might have said “I saw the Lord on a throne held up by four angels”, but Ezekiel is too careful for that. All of his theological training comes together in this last line where he finally sums up what he saw: “Such was the vision of the likeness of the glory of the Lord.”
It cannot have been the Lord, because God is not visible. He has no body, so he cannot be seen. This must have been a likeness of the glory, a sort of self-portrait that God put together for Ezekiel’s benefit. Still, Ezekiel is not willing to be nailed down even there. What he described was merely his vision of that likeness, lest anyone suppose that Ezekiel meant this to be a definitive description. This realization of the transcendence of God was the result of 1500 years of formation from Abraham down to Ezekiel. The Lord is an eternal God who cannot be represented by any idol. He is “I am who am”, the God who simply exists before any universe or time or any other creation. Ezekiel may have seen white gold and fire, but he would laugh at you if you thought that this meant that God was made out of white gold and fire. Laugh or be very angry.
So God prepared this culture to be the very last that would think of God as merely a powerful human being. Then a man appears who knows all about a fish that swallowed a coin and will conveniently be near shore soon, and he says that he will be killed but that death will be unable to hold him down, and he claims to be God. If Jesus had appeared in any other culture, they would have readily believed in him, but they would have missed the point. The Greeks would have had no trouble with a god walking among them, but they would not have understood. It was because the Jews could not imagine that the transcendent God would become human that, when they believed that he had, they understood the incredible earth-changing significance of this fact.
Psalm 148:1-2, 11-14
Matthew 17:22-27
Ezekiel is so careful. He is a theologically trained prophet. He sees something with the form of a human sitting on a throne, white gold from the waist up, like fire from the waist down, the throne supported by four living creatures that looked like human beings but had wings. A less careful theologian might have said “I saw the Lord on a throne held up by four angels”, but Ezekiel is too careful for that. All of his theological training comes together in this last line where he finally sums up what he saw: “Such was the vision of the likeness of the glory of the Lord.”
It cannot have been the Lord, because God is not visible. He has no body, so he cannot be seen. This must have been a likeness of the glory, a sort of self-portrait that God put together for Ezekiel’s benefit. Still, Ezekiel is not willing to be nailed down even there. What he described was merely his vision of that likeness, lest anyone suppose that Ezekiel meant this to be a definitive description. This realization of the transcendence of God was the result of 1500 years of formation from Abraham down to Ezekiel. The Lord is an eternal God who cannot be represented by any idol. He is “I am who am”, the God who simply exists before any universe or time or any other creation. Ezekiel may have seen white gold and fire, but he would laugh at you if you thought that this meant that God was made out of white gold and fire. Laugh or be very angry.
So God prepared this culture to be the very last that would think of God as merely a powerful human being. Then a man appears who knows all about a fish that swallowed a coin and will conveniently be near shore soon, and he says that he will be killed but that death will be unable to hold him down, and he claims to be God. If Jesus had appeared in any other culture, they would have readily believed in him, but they would have missed the point. The Greeks would have had no trouble with a god walking among them, but they would not have understood. It was because the Jews could not imagine that the transcendent God would become human that, when they believed that he had, they understood the incredible earth-changing significance of this fact.
August 10, 2012 - Feast of Saint Lawrence, deacon and martyr
2 Corinthians 9:6-10
Psalm 112:1-2, 5-9
John 12:24-26
Today we celebrate the feast of St. Lawrence of Rome, a deacon of the 3rd century. St. Lawrence is known primarily for two features, which are reflected in our readings today: his care for the poor and his martyrdom. Consistent throughout is the sense of humor that made him the patron saint of comedians.
One day, the Roman government demanded that Lawrence turn over the riches of the Church. People are always talking about the riches of the Church, by which they usually mean all the gold and jewels. The Church does not really have riches in that sense. Yes, we do have beautiful works of art and chalices made from precious metals, but there is a vast difference between riches and objects intended for the glory of God. We always try to offer God the best we can, and the world sees that we have beautiful things and becomes envious because the world does not inspire anyone to produce beautiful things.
Lawrence knew that there was no purpose to hiding the Church’s treasures since we are not interested in possessing treasures but in using beautiful things. So he asked for three days to gather everything together. During those days he sold every chalice and artwork and other item that is valuable as the world sees things. He gave the proceeds to the poor of Rome. On the third day he went to the prefect and presented the true riches of the Church: the blind, the lame, the leprous, and many other people whom Jesus Christ died to save. He is reported to have said, “As you can see, we are richer than the emperor.” So they killed him. They grilled him to death. I suppose they had a giant barbeque, lit a fire, and threw him on it. As he was dying, he said to the guards, “You can flip me over now; I am done on this side.”
What can we learn from the comedy routines of St. Lawrence? In the face of the world, so deadly serious about its sins and its greed and its cruelty, we ought to laugh, recognizing how ridiculous the world is. People live and die for money, power, and lust. We live and die for Jesus Christ. The contrast is so enormous, we do not know whether to laugh or cry. St. Lawrence is very happy in heaven right now; where that prefect or those guards are depends on whether or not they eventually learned to laugh at this world too. Humility and humor come from the same root.
Psalm 112:1-2, 5-9
John 12:24-26
Today we celebrate the feast of St. Lawrence of Rome, a deacon of the 3rd century. St. Lawrence is known primarily for two features, which are reflected in our readings today: his care for the poor and his martyrdom. Consistent throughout is the sense of humor that made him the patron saint of comedians.
One day, the Roman government demanded that Lawrence turn over the riches of the Church. People are always talking about the riches of the Church, by which they usually mean all the gold and jewels. The Church does not really have riches in that sense. Yes, we do have beautiful works of art and chalices made from precious metals, but there is a vast difference between riches and objects intended for the glory of God. We always try to offer God the best we can, and the world sees that we have beautiful things and becomes envious because the world does not inspire anyone to produce beautiful things.
Lawrence knew that there was no purpose to hiding the Church’s treasures since we are not interested in possessing treasures but in using beautiful things. So he asked for three days to gather everything together. During those days he sold every chalice and artwork and other item that is valuable as the world sees things. He gave the proceeds to the poor of Rome. On the third day he went to the prefect and presented the true riches of the Church: the blind, the lame, the leprous, and many other people whom Jesus Christ died to save. He is reported to have said, “As you can see, we are richer than the emperor.” So they killed him. They grilled him to death. I suppose they had a giant barbeque, lit a fire, and threw him on it. As he was dying, he said to the guards, “You can flip me over now; I am done on this side.”
What can we learn from the comedy routines of St. Lawrence? In the face of the world, so deadly serious about its sins and its greed and its cruelty, we ought to laugh, recognizing how ridiculous the world is. People live and die for money, power, and lust. We live and die for Jesus Christ. The contrast is so enormous, we do not know whether to laugh or cry. St. Lawrence is very happy in heaven right now; where that prefect or those guards are depends on whether or not they eventually learned to laugh at this world too. Humility and humor come from the same root.
August 2, 2012 - Thursday of the Seventeenth Week in Ordinary Time (II)
Jeremiah 18.1-6
Psalm 146.1b-2, 3-4, 5-6ab Resp. 5a
Matthew 13.47-53
What does a potter do when a vase falls while they are making it? They take the clay and punch it and hit it and press it back into the humble ball that it began as, then they start over. There is a point when the vase starts to fall that the potter can just use a little pressure with their hands to correct the fault, but once the vase has fallen there is no point in simply trying to fix a little here or there.
But why did the vase fall in the first place? Was it the fault of a potter who did not know what they were doing? But the potter we are talking about is an expert. He is perfect. It was not the potter’s fault. Was it the fault of the clay, an imperfection in the material? But our potter made the clay. If the clay were faulty, what good would starting over be? If the clay were faulty, the only thing would be to throw it away.
But what if the clay had free will? Instead of responding instantly to the master’s touch, the clay resisted, insisted on going in some other direction. That would make the vase fall. The potter could be ever so gentle, but if the vase simply refuses to be guided by his hand, it will not become the work of art he has planned. It will collapse in on itself because it cannot stand without the potter’s support. Sure the potter could just give up trying to make a vase. If the potter would just settle for an ashtray like we used to make in elementary school, any lump of clay could get along in its disorder. But who is the lump to question the potter?
Is this true? Is God to us like a potter to a lump of clay? He says so. He says that he will not hold back destroying his work and beginning again if necessary. “Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand.” Except for one thing. Our potter loves us lumps of clay. He loves each of us. He will start over but he will not give up, at least not so long as there is hope. If my clay kept fighting me, I would throw it away, but even when we would give up on ourselves, God looks at us lumps and sees the magnificent vases that are possible.
Psalm 146.1b-2, 3-4, 5-6ab Resp. 5a
Matthew 13.47-53
What does a potter do when a vase falls while they are making it? They take the clay and punch it and hit it and press it back into the humble ball that it began as, then they start over. There is a point when the vase starts to fall that the potter can just use a little pressure with their hands to correct the fault, but once the vase has fallen there is no point in simply trying to fix a little here or there.
But why did the vase fall in the first place? Was it the fault of a potter who did not know what they were doing? But the potter we are talking about is an expert. He is perfect. It was not the potter’s fault. Was it the fault of the clay, an imperfection in the material? But our potter made the clay. If the clay were faulty, what good would starting over be? If the clay were faulty, the only thing would be to throw it away.
But what if the clay had free will? Instead of responding instantly to the master’s touch, the clay resisted, insisted on going in some other direction. That would make the vase fall. The potter could be ever so gentle, but if the vase simply refuses to be guided by his hand, it will not become the work of art he has planned. It will collapse in on itself because it cannot stand without the potter’s support. Sure the potter could just give up trying to make a vase. If the potter would just settle for an ashtray like we used to make in elementary school, any lump of clay could get along in its disorder. But who is the lump to question the potter?
Is this true? Is God to us like a potter to a lump of clay? He says so. He says that he will not hold back destroying his work and beginning again if necessary. “Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand.” Except for one thing. Our potter loves us lumps of clay. He loves each of us. He will start over but he will not give up, at least not so long as there is hope. If my clay kept fighting me, I would throw it away, but even when we would give up on ourselves, God looks at us lumps and sees the magnificent vases that are possible.
May 7, 2012 - Monday of the Fifth Week of Easter
Acts 14:5-18
Psalm 115:1-4, 15-16
John 14:21-26
Paul and Barnabas go from almost being killed in one city to almost being worshipped in another. Clearly the message that they are preaching is no ordinary message. Wherever they go, people gather together in mobs to react to the message. Some people hate the message because they love sin, and they cannot love the light of the world who shines in the darkest places. Other people misunderstand the message, comically even.
The image of Paul and Barnabas having to convince the crowds that they are not Zeus and Hermes is sort of ridiculous. They are trying to tell the crowds that there is only one God, and Jesus Christ is God, but they are completely misunderstood. Paul and Barnabas have no interest in being worshipped as gods. They have to shout and tear their clothing to convince the people that they are not gods. We can see here the humility that Paul and Barnabas have learned. They are able to heal the sick because they have learned to be humble in all circumstances.
Pride may be standing in the way of our working miracles. Perhaps God knows that if I had the power to heal the sick by commanding them to be healed, my pride would become so great that the small good I did would be completely undone. No, I would not want bulls sacrificed to me, but I do not know whether I could overcome other temptations to pride.
Any good I can do can either result in the glorification of God or the glorification of me. We repeated in the psalm a prayer which captures our need for humility: “Not to us, O Lord, but to your name give the glory.” This prayer should be studied and prayed constantly by anyone who wants to work miracles.
This world needs help. It is falling apart. Our world needs help in so many ways. We Christians are particularly ready to help, because we are filled with the Holy Spirit. God can do amazing things through us. He can use our hands for healing. He can use our mouths to speak words of encouragement to those who need it. He can use our feet to take us wherever he needs us. We must not allow pride to stand in the way. We need to study humility, whether through suffering and unjust persecutions or through prayers. We need to be humble.
Psalm 115:1-4, 15-16
John 14:21-26
Paul and Barnabas go from almost being killed in one city to almost being worshipped in another. Clearly the message that they are preaching is no ordinary message. Wherever they go, people gather together in mobs to react to the message. Some people hate the message because they love sin, and they cannot love the light of the world who shines in the darkest places. Other people misunderstand the message, comically even.
The image of Paul and Barnabas having to convince the crowds that they are not Zeus and Hermes is sort of ridiculous. They are trying to tell the crowds that there is only one God, and Jesus Christ is God, but they are completely misunderstood. Paul and Barnabas have no interest in being worshipped as gods. They have to shout and tear their clothing to convince the people that they are not gods. We can see here the humility that Paul and Barnabas have learned. They are able to heal the sick because they have learned to be humble in all circumstances.
Pride may be standing in the way of our working miracles. Perhaps God knows that if I had the power to heal the sick by commanding them to be healed, my pride would become so great that the small good I did would be completely undone. No, I would not want bulls sacrificed to me, but I do not know whether I could overcome other temptations to pride.
Any good I can do can either result in the glorification of God or the glorification of me. We repeated in the psalm a prayer which captures our need for humility: “Not to us, O Lord, but to your name give the glory.” This prayer should be studied and prayed constantly by anyone who wants to work miracles.
This world needs help. It is falling apart. Our world needs help in so many ways. We Christians are particularly ready to help, because we are filled with the Holy Spirit. God can do amazing things through us. He can use our hands for healing. He can use our mouths to speak words of encouragement to those who need it. He can use our feet to take us wherever he needs us. We must not allow pride to stand in the way. We need to study humility, whether through suffering and unjust persecutions or through prayers. We need to be humble.
May 2, 2012 - Memorial of Saint Athanasius, Bishop and Doctor of the Church
Acts 12:24 -- 13:5
Psalm 67:2-3, 5, 6, 8
John 12:44-50
It is possible, because of the structure of the book of Acts, to seriously misunderstand St. Paul. We read about his conversion, and then, a few chapters later, we read about how he is chosen to go on a mission to preach to the whole world. Of course, St. Paul had studied Jewish law for years before his conversion, but he was still not ready. The events of today’s reading happened thirteen years after St. Paul’s conversion. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither was St. Paul.
We know some of what happened during those thirteen years, but they are mostly a mystery. St. Paul was a Christian for 33 years before he died, and he only preached the Gospel for the last twenty. The life of St. Paul should teach us two very important lessons. First, preparation is extremely important. When someone first has a conversion, they are usually very excited to preach the Gospel. They should not. Much damage has been done in the Church by people who begin preaching too soon after their conversion.
Tertullian, an early Christian theologian, is a prime example of this. At age 37 he converted to Christianity. He spent the next 10 years writing some of the most important books that have ever been written in Christian theology. By age 47, he had joined a group of heretics and split off from the Church. When a new convert becomes a teacher too quickly, pride follows. The most important lesson St. Paul learned in those thirteen years was humility. He never could have become the great apostle that he was without superhuman humility.
The second lesson we should learn from St. Paul’s life is how much a person can accomplish in twenty years. When we think of everything St. Paul is remembered for, it all happened within twenty years. It is easy to waste twenty years in front of the television or surfing the internet. Imagine what we could do in the next twenty years if we all stopped wasting time and started working. Some of you are just beginning to walk seriously with Jesus Christ, are just beginning your own thirteen years of preparation. Some of you ought to be out converting the world by now. Imagine what God could accomplish if, starting today, starting right now, we put aside every vestige of selfishness and committed ourselves perfectly, uncompromisingly, to love God and our neighbor.
Psalm 67:2-3, 5, 6, 8
John 12:44-50
It is possible, because of the structure of the book of Acts, to seriously misunderstand St. Paul. We read about his conversion, and then, a few chapters later, we read about how he is chosen to go on a mission to preach to the whole world. Of course, St. Paul had studied Jewish law for years before his conversion, but he was still not ready. The events of today’s reading happened thirteen years after St. Paul’s conversion. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither was St. Paul.
We know some of what happened during those thirteen years, but they are mostly a mystery. St. Paul was a Christian for 33 years before he died, and he only preached the Gospel for the last twenty. The life of St. Paul should teach us two very important lessons. First, preparation is extremely important. When someone first has a conversion, they are usually very excited to preach the Gospel. They should not. Much damage has been done in the Church by people who begin preaching too soon after their conversion.
Tertullian, an early Christian theologian, is a prime example of this. At age 37 he converted to Christianity. He spent the next 10 years writing some of the most important books that have ever been written in Christian theology. By age 47, he had joined a group of heretics and split off from the Church. When a new convert becomes a teacher too quickly, pride follows. The most important lesson St. Paul learned in those thirteen years was humility. He never could have become the great apostle that he was without superhuman humility.
The second lesson we should learn from St. Paul’s life is how much a person can accomplish in twenty years. When we think of everything St. Paul is remembered for, it all happened within twenty years. It is easy to waste twenty years in front of the television or surfing the internet. Imagine what we could do in the next twenty years if we all stopped wasting time and started working. Some of you are just beginning to walk seriously with Jesus Christ, are just beginning your own thirteen years of preparation. Some of you ought to be out converting the world by now. Imagine what God could accomplish if, starting today, starting right now, we put aside every vestige of selfishness and committed ourselves perfectly, uncompromisingly, to love God and our neighbor.
April 30, 2012 - Monday of the Fourth Week of Easter
Today's Readings
In the reading from Acts, we see something called the sensus fidelium. Although Peter is the leader of the Church, appointed by Jesus Christ, the faithful Christians stand up to him. They stand up to him not because he did something they do not like but because he did something that they knew to be wrong. This is the sensus fidelium, the sense of the faithful people when something is wrong. It is not anyone’s personal opinion, not even a grassroots movement. The sensus fidelium never needs to organize. When all of the lay faithful just know that something is wrong, they ought to be listened to. We have a great example today in this reading.
Peter visited the house of a Gentile because Jesus told him to, but the people did not know that yet. When they see that he has done something which is forbidden by the law, they stand up to him. They do not stand up to him with shouting or violence. What we see here is so different from political conversations today. They tell him their objection, and then give him time to speak.
Peter explains what happened step by step. He is humble. He does not consider himself to be above explaining his actions to the crowd. He understands their objection, but they do not know the half of the story that changes everything. It is very good news: the Gentiles have received the Holy Spirit just like the Jews did. Anyone can become a Christian.
Peter learned the lesson well: he is one who has come to serve and not be served. He knows that he is absolutely in the right, but he still respects the sensus fidelium and explains the workings of the Holy Spirit. We see this still today as the Holy Father does not simply write decrees telling us what we should and should not do. He always writes long explanations that we should read, certainly read before we disagree with his conclusions.
When disagreements remain, they ought to be handled according to the example of the early Christians. Conflict within the Church is not like conflict outside the Church. Humility must be at the center. The crowd must be humble enough to let the leaders speak, and the leaders must be humble enough to explain their decisions to their fellow Christians.
In the reading from Acts, we see something called the sensus fidelium. Although Peter is the leader of the Church, appointed by Jesus Christ, the faithful Christians stand up to him. They stand up to him not because he did something they do not like but because he did something that they knew to be wrong. This is the sensus fidelium, the sense of the faithful people when something is wrong. It is not anyone’s personal opinion, not even a grassroots movement. The sensus fidelium never needs to organize. When all of the lay faithful just know that something is wrong, they ought to be listened to. We have a great example today in this reading.
Peter visited the house of a Gentile because Jesus told him to, but the people did not know that yet. When they see that he has done something which is forbidden by the law, they stand up to him. They do not stand up to him with shouting or violence. What we see here is so different from political conversations today. They tell him their objection, and then give him time to speak.
Peter explains what happened step by step. He is humble. He does not consider himself to be above explaining his actions to the crowd. He understands their objection, but they do not know the half of the story that changes everything. It is very good news: the Gentiles have received the Holy Spirit just like the Jews did. Anyone can become a Christian.
Peter learned the lesson well: he is one who has come to serve and not be served. He knows that he is absolutely in the right, but he still respects the sensus fidelium and explains the workings of the Holy Spirit. We see this still today as the Holy Father does not simply write decrees telling us what we should and should not do. He always writes long explanations that we should read, certainly read before we disagree with his conclusions.
When disagreements remain, they ought to be handled according to the example of the early Christians. Conflict within the Church is not like conflict outside the Church. Humility must be at the center. The crowd must be humble enough to let the leaders speak, and the leaders must be humble enough to explain their decisions to their fellow Christians.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)