1 Corinthians 15:35-37, 42-49
Psalm 56:10-14
Luke 8:4-15
We are not yet what we ought to be. We are like an acorn in comparison to a tree. You plant the acorn and a tree grows. If the acorn wondered what sort of acorn it will be when it is a tree, it is missing the point that a tree is not an acorn at all. The acorn will have to be destroyed in order to become an oak tree. So we will have to be destroyed, torn down and built back up, in order to become immortal. God has great plans for us. Step one is our destruction. If God accomplished this without our cooperation, there would be nothing left to save in the end, but if we cooperate in our own destruction, in the tearing down of that selfish, weak, wicked self, then there will be something that remains through the process of growth and change: the part of us that cooperates will last.
How are we going to be destroyed? Jesus says that we are like the ground, and the seed is the Word of God, because when we hear the word, it is still something external to us, like a seed on the ground. Then we accept the word, and embrace it, and allow it to put down roots in our hearts. When the seed has grown and the roots have gone through every bit of soil so that the roots and the soil have become one, and the roots have even gone through every rock and broken it to pieces, when it is no longer clear where we end and the word of God begins, then we are ready for immortality.
We are so conditioned to fight for our own identity, to defend ourself against any attack. If someone says that we are not good enough, our first instinct is to prove that we are. We have to overcome this desire because of a greater desire. More than we want to defend who we are, we want to become who we could be. We accept the word of God even to our own destruction. It feels like giving in, but unlike every other attack on our identity, this comes from someone who loves us, who has great plans for us. It feels like starting over, but everything worth keeping will survive the change. We Christians are not afraid of death, because, if we are doing it right, we have spent our whole lives dying for that moment.
Showing posts with label Integrity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Integrity. Show all posts
September 10, 2012 - Monday of the Twenty-third Week in Ordinary Time
1 Corinthians 5:1-8
Psalm 5:5-7, 12
Luke 6:6-11
St. Paul just finished writing to the Corinthians something that Jesus used to say: “Stop judging!” Then he turns to the subject of today’s reading and writes: “I have pronounced judgment on the one who has committed this deed.” Is he forgetful? He is just a hypocrite? He tells others to stop judging; he says that he accepts no human judgment on himself, then he immediately turns to judge this other man. A lot of people do this. They are quick with the “judge not”s when the judgment is against them, but they are just as quick to pronounce their own judgment. They often criticize the weaknesses of others as being completely unreasonable while considering their own weaknesses to be human foibles.
But St. Paul was not speaking of the same thing the first time and the second time, though he used the same word. In the first case, he means that we should not judge Christians like contestants in a beauty contest. In the second case, he means that the man is clearly guilty of a specific crime and ought to be treated as guilty. This distinction is necessary to understand the prohibition against judging in Christianity. It does not mean that we ignore sin as if it did not matter. It means that when we look at a person, our first instinct is not to rate them on a scale of one to ten. When one of the Corinthian Christians has chosen to get together with his step-mother, that objective action must be condemned.
If a Christian chooses to defy the laws of God, they must not simultaneously pretend that they are keeping the laws of God. This is the basis for our rules on Communion. Sometimes people act as if there were a special law that said that divorced people living with someone else cannot receive Communion, but there is not. No one can receive Communion if they have decided to ignore one of God’s laws. A thief who steals for a living cannot receive Communion. A hitman who kills people on a regular basis cannot receive Communion. Anyone who decides that one of the Commandments does not apply to them cannot receive Communion, because someone cannot both be a follower of Christ and not be a follower of his laws. There is a difference between someone failing to keep the law and someone choosing to ignore it.
Psalm 5:5-7, 12
Luke 6:6-11
St. Paul just finished writing to the Corinthians something that Jesus used to say: “Stop judging!” Then he turns to the subject of today’s reading and writes: “I have pronounced judgment on the one who has committed this deed.” Is he forgetful? He is just a hypocrite? He tells others to stop judging; he says that he accepts no human judgment on himself, then he immediately turns to judge this other man. A lot of people do this. They are quick with the “judge not”s when the judgment is against them, but they are just as quick to pronounce their own judgment. They often criticize the weaknesses of others as being completely unreasonable while considering their own weaknesses to be human foibles.
But St. Paul was not speaking of the same thing the first time and the second time, though he used the same word. In the first case, he means that we should not judge Christians like contestants in a beauty contest. In the second case, he means that the man is clearly guilty of a specific crime and ought to be treated as guilty. This distinction is necessary to understand the prohibition against judging in Christianity. It does not mean that we ignore sin as if it did not matter. It means that when we look at a person, our first instinct is not to rate them on a scale of one to ten. When one of the Corinthian Christians has chosen to get together with his step-mother, that objective action must be condemned.
If a Christian chooses to defy the laws of God, they must not simultaneously pretend that they are keeping the laws of God. This is the basis for our rules on Communion. Sometimes people act as if there were a special law that said that divorced people living with someone else cannot receive Communion, but there is not. No one can receive Communion if they have decided to ignore one of God’s laws. A thief who steals for a living cannot receive Communion. A hitman who kills people on a regular basis cannot receive Communion. Anyone who decides that one of the Commandments does not apply to them cannot receive Communion, because someone cannot both be a follower of Christ and not be a follower of his laws. There is a difference between someone failing to keep the law and someone choosing to ignore it.
November 24, 2011 - Memorial of Saint Andrew Düng-Lac, priest and martyr, and his companions, martyrs
Today's Readings
We are told throughout our first reading today how it was the fault of “some men” that Daniel was thrown into the lions’ den. It emphasized over and over how the king himself did not want to put Daniel in there. He “worked until sunset to rescue him” and “sleep was impossible” that night. After Daniel himself, we are supposed to feel bad, I suppose, for the king, but who issued the royal decree? Who insisted that no one should pray to anyone except the king for one month?
Those men who are accusing Daniel tell us who it was, “Daniel, the Jewish exile, has paid no attention to you, O king, or to the decree you issued.” The king issued the royal decree. So if he spent a sleepless night without dinner or entertainment, I think he deserved it. He never does, but he could have even taken responsibility for his own actions.
What could he have done though? As the men remind him, “under the Mede and Persian law” royal decrees are irrevocable. Perhaps, but under the law of God, throwing a human into a lions’ den because they were praying is wrong. When human law conflicts with divine law, it is obvious what ought to prevail. The king should not have thrown Daniel in the lions’ den, no matter what. He was not forced to.
The king dug a hole for himself with his stupid decree. Then he felt that he had no choice but to follow through. He was wrong. We always have a choice to do what is right. Like a businessman who is forced to lie under oath or a single mother who is forced to kill her own child, it is possible to arrive at a point where the choice is between self-sacrifice and doing wrong. The businessman is not forced; he could always go to jail instead. The mother is not forced; she could always struggle to care for the child instead.
It is never impossible to do what is right. In every circumstance, no matter what choices we have made up to that point, we can always begin doing what is right. It may be difficult. We may lose everything except our souls. Who knows what would have happened if the king had refused to thrown Daniel in the loins’ den. He might have lost his kingdom. It would have been worth it though, to do what is right.
We are told throughout our first reading today how it was the fault of “some men” that Daniel was thrown into the lions’ den. It emphasized over and over how the king himself did not want to put Daniel in there. He “worked until sunset to rescue him” and “sleep was impossible” that night. After Daniel himself, we are supposed to feel bad, I suppose, for the king, but who issued the royal decree? Who insisted that no one should pray to anyone except the king for one month?
Those men who are accusing Daniel tell us who it was, “Daniel, the Jewish exile, has paid no attention to you, O king, or to the decree you issued.” The king issued the royal decree. So if he spent a sleepless night without dinner or entertainment, I think he deserved it. He never does, but he could have even taken responsibility for his own actions.
What could he have done though? As the men remind him, “under the Mede and Persian law” royal decrees are irrevocable. Perhaps, but under the law of God, throwing a human into a lions’ den because they were praying is wrong. When human law conflicts with divine law, it is obvious what ought to prevail. The king should not have thrown Daniel in the lions’ den, no matter what. He was not forced to.
The king dug a hole for himself with his stupid decree. Then he felt that he had no choice but to follow through. He was wrong. We always have a choice to do what is right. Like a businessman who is forced to lie under oath or a single mother who is forced to kill her own child, it is possible to arrive at a point where the choice is between self-sacrifice and doing wrong. The businessman is not forced; he could always go to jail instead. The mother is not forced; she could always struggle to care for the child instead.
It is never impossible to do what is right. In every circumstance, no matter what choices we have made up to that point, we can always begin doing what is right. It may be difficult. We may lose everything except our souls. Who knows what would have happened if the king had refused to thrown Daniel in the loins’ den. He might have lost his kingdom. It would have been worth it though, to do what is right.
November 21, 2011 - Memorial of The Presentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary
Today's Readings
One common theme in both our readings today is faithfulness. Daniel decided to be faithful. He was an exile, a child in a foreign land. Now the king, the very king who invaded his land and brought him to Babylon as a prisoner, wants him to study to be an advisor to the government. I could imagine him being too afraid. I could imagine him being too proud, thinking that he will never serve his enemy. Instead he is faithful. God told the Israelites to build up lives for themselves in exile, so Daniel puts aside his fear, his pride, his anger, and every other impediment and accepts the position.
Then within his decision, he is faithful. He shows two kinds of faithfulness: faithfulness to God and faithfulness to his work. He is faithful to God by refusing to eat the food, the meat and wine, which was sacrificed to idols. He is faithful to his work by studying hard. Indeed, he and his companions from Israel are judged to be superior to he other students. If something is worth doing, it is worth doing well. Faithfulness to our work means putting in our best effort out of respect for ourselves.
The widow in the Gospel also shows faithfulness. Although it is not clear in this translation, she is not merely poor; she is a beggar. She has spent the whole day begging and has gotten, let us say, twenty cents. She then goes to the temple and puts two of the cents, ten percent, in the collection. She is being faithful to the tithe. If she asked me, I would have told her that she should hold on to every cent she can, that she cannot afford to be tithing, yet she does tithe. She is faithful.
Our readings do not make light of the struggles: Daniel is still an exile, soon to be thrown in the lion’s den, and the woman is still a beggar, but in their faithfulness they have a certain integrity and self-respect which many well-off people lack. Do not underestimate the value of knowing that you have done your best work and have been faithful to the commands of God. Success as the world sees it, measured in money or influence or fame, is of little value compared to hearing someday, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.”
One common theme in both our readings today is faithfulness. Daniel decided to be faithful. He was an exile, a child in a foreign land. Now the king, the very king who invaded his land and brought him to Babylon as a prisoner, wants him to study to be an advisor to the government. I could imagine him being too afraid. I could imagine him being too proud, thinking that he will never serve his enemy. Instead he is faithful. God told the Israelites to build up lives for themselves in exile, so Daniel puts aside his fear, his pride, his anger, and every other impediment and accepts the position.
Then within his decision, he is faithful. He shows two kinds of faithfulness: faithfulness to God and faithfulness to his work. He is faithful to God by refusing to eat the food, the meat and wine, which was sacrificed to idols. He is faithful to his work by studying hard. Indeed, he and his companions from Israel are judged to be superior to he other students. If something is worth doing, it is worth doing well. Faithfulness to our work means putting in our best effort out of respect for ourselves.
The widow in the Gospel also shows faithfulness. Although it is not clear in this translation, she is not merely poor; she is a beggar. She has spent the whole day begging and has gotten, let us say, twenty cents. She then goes to the temple and puts two of the cents, ten percent, in the collection. She is being faithful to the tithe. If she asked me, I would have told her that she should hold on to every cent she can, that she cannot afford to be tithing, yet she does tithe. She is faithful.
Our readings do not make light of the struggles: Daniel is still an exile, soon to be thrown in the lion’s den, and the woman is still a beggar, but in their faithfulness they have a certain integrity and self-respect which many well-off people lack. Do not underestimate the value of knowing that you have done your best work and have been faithful to the commands of God. Success as the world sees it, measured in money or influence or fame, is of little value compared to hearing someday, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.”
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