Sirach 47:2-11
Psalm 18:31, 47, 50-51
Mark 6:14-29
As Sirach chooses how to summarize the life of King David, he mentions some things that would be mentioned in any history: killing Goliath with a stone, the defeat of the Philistines, and the many songs and prayers he wrote. In a modern history, just as in the actual record we have from the books of Samuel and Chronicles, his sins would play a larger part though. The only thing that Sirach has to say about his sins is that the Lord forgave him.
Perhaps Sirach’s account is too rosy for a man who committed adultery, murdered a loyal servant, and forgot his role as a steward of God's people. The original account is harsher too concerning David's war against the Philistines. By Sirach's description it was all glory, but God would not let David build his temple since his hands had shed too much blood. By Sirach's account, David is a hero.
But David is a hero. He did kill Goliath when the Philistines threatened to destroy Israel. He did establish Israel as a kingdom. He was not perfect, not by any means, but then no one in the Bible is except Jesus and his mother. Noah was a drunk. Abraham was a cowardly liar. Moses was a murderer. In other words, they were just like us. What is remarkable about them was not that they never did anything wrong, but that they did something right. Modern histories may dwell on the dark valleys of a life, but there is something to be said for the glorious peaks as well.
We could look at David and say, “Well at least I’ve never been as bad as he was”, but then have we ever been as good as he was? Even King Herod liked to listen to John the Baptist, and did not want to kill him. What does it take to judge a human life? Should we consider how good someone has been or how low they have sunk, or simply take an average of a whole life?
This sort of calculation is too much for anyone. We must not think that our good deeds will outweigh our bad ones. We must rely on the mercy of God, that he will forgive us our sins as he forgave the sins of David. The most important fact about David in the first reading today is not that he killed a giant or who he defeated. It is this: “The LORD forgave him his sins.”
Daily Homilies
Showing posts with label Judgement. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Judgement. Show all posts
March 12, 2013 - Tuesday of the Fourth Week of Lent
Ezekiel 47:1-9, 12
Psalm 46: 2-3, 5-6, 8-9
John 5:1-16
Ezekiel sees the river of God’s mercy, flowing out of the temple, into the world. At first Ezekiel is trying to measure God’s mercy: 1000 cubits by ankle-deep, 1000 cubits by knee-deep, 1000 cubits by waist deep. Finally, Ezekiel can no longer measure God’s mercy. He can only swim in it.
Wherever this river goes, every living creature shall live. This seems sort of redundant, a tautology, but Jesus says “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly” Life is not just an on-off switch: on the one hand, a person can live, or on the other hand, a person can live abundantly. The trees bear fruit every month, and their leaves never fade. The trees are being watered by God’s mercy. Because of this water, their fruit is good for food and their leaves are good for medicine. These are amazing trees, or, rather, this water is amazing water. They are alive, and other living trees seem dead. We must discern: are we alive? We walk and talk, but are we alive? The wages of sin are death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus. Are we earning death or accepting life?
If we want to be alive, if we want the water of God’s mercy, we have to be merciful. Being merciful means sharing the burden. Mercy comes after justice. It does not remove justice. Mercy does not allow injustice. Justice creates a burden and then mercy shares it. If someone is bad at their job, justice fires them, then mercy finds them a job they can do. If a person commits murder, justice sentences them to prison, then mercy visits them there. A beautiful image of mercy is a mother, who, seeing that her son’s room is a mess, tells him that he cannot go out to play until it is clean, and then helps him clean the room.
I meet many people in my work who are in difficult situations, and often it is amazing how many poor choices they have made that have led to their situation. We could judge them: "We have worked hard; have they?" But, thanks be to God, we have no call to judge the vast majority of the world. When we see someone suffering under a burden, all we have to do is share in it. When we choose to be merciful, we share in their poverty and allow them to share in our riches. That way, God, who has already shared in our poverty, will allow us to share in his riches.
Psalm 46: 2-3, 5-6, 8-9
John 5:1-16
Ezekiel sees the river of God’s mercy, flowing out of the temple, into the world. At first Ezekiel is trying to measure God’s mercy: 1000 cubits by ankle-deep, 1000 cubits by knee-deep, 1000 cubits by waist deep. Finally, Ezekiel can no longer measure God’s mercy. He can only swim in it.
Wherever this river goes, every living creature shall live. This seems sort of redundant, a tautology, but Jesus says “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly” Life is not just an on-off switch: on the one hand, a person can live, or on the other hand, a person can live abundantly. The trees bear fruit every month, and their leaves never fade. The trees are being watered by God’s mercy. Because of this water, their fruit is good for food and their leaves are good for medicine. These are amazing trees, or, rather, this water is amazing water. They are alive, and other living trees seem dead. We must discern: are we alive? We walk and talk, but are we alive? The wages of sin are death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus. Are we earning death or accepting life?
If we want to be alive, if we want the water of God’s mercy, we have to be merciful. Being merciful means sharing the burden. Mercy comes after justice. It does not remove justice. Mercy does not allow injustice. Justice creates a burden and then mercy shares it. If someone is bad at their job, justice fires them, then mercy finds them a job they can do. If a person commits murder, justice sentences them to prison, then mercy visits them there. A beautiful image of mercy is a mother, who, seeing that her son’s room is a mess, tells him that he cannot go out to play until it is clean, and then helps him clean the room.
I meet many people in my work who are in difficult situations, and often it is amazing how many poor choices they have made that have led to their situation. We could judge them: "We have worked hard; have they?" But, thanks be to God, we have no call to judge the vast majority of the world. When we see someone suffering under a burden, all we have to do is share in it. When we choose to be merciful, we share in their poverty and allow them to share in our riches. That way, God, who has already shared in our poverty, will allow us to share in his riches.
December 14, 2012 - Friday of the Second Week of Advent
Isaiah 48:17-19
Psalm 1:1-4, 6
Matthew 11:16-19
The irony of the Gospel is that people keep rejecting the kinds of prophets whom God sends, as if they were in a position to judge and reject God. It is as if a sick person in the hospital in need of emergency surgery kept rejecting doctors: too tall, too short, too skinny. They thought that John the Baptist was too austere, and Jesus was too friendly. In reality, John was exactly as austere as he should have been, and Jesus was exactly as friendly as he should have been. The people could not see the difference between, “This is the sort of prophet whom I like to have” and “This is the sort of prophet whom I need.”
I think it would be very presumptuous of me to presume that I or any other member of the clergy brings exactly the level of friendliness or fasting that we ought to. When people complain about us, they are probably often justified. But just because the person preaching is too much this and not enough that does not mean that their message is useless. Sometimes people become preoccupied with judging some clergy and rejecting others and even celebrating others. As St. Paul says, “If you judge the law, you are not a follower of the law.” If we are trying to judge whether we liked the homily, we are not listening to the homily and being moved by the presence of the Holy Spirit.
The greatest difficulty with this is that there are many false shepherds. There are wolves in sheep’s clothing who come into the Church as clergy and then preach the opposite of the Church’s teachings, or worse, commit grave sins and claim that what they are doing is good. Do we not need to be on our guard? Yes, but whether they are too fat or thin, too loud or quiet, too American or foreign, too liberal or conservative, too happy or sad, too smart or dumb, or whatever other human traits attract us or stand in the way of following them, we know that we do not worship them but Jesus Christ. If they lead us to Jesus, we can get over their faults. If they lead us away from him, it would not matter how pleasant they are. It is nice to find a preacher who is fun and easy to listen to, but it is far more important that they will lead us to Jesus.
Psalm 1:1-4, 6
Matthew 11:16-19
The irony of the Gospel is that people keep rejecting the kinds of prophets whom God sends, as if they were in a position to judge and reject God. It is as if a sick person in the hospital in need of emergency surgery kept rejecting doctors: too tall, too short, too skinny. They thought that John the Baptist was too austere, and Jesus was too friendly. In reality, John was exactly as austere as he should have been, and Jesus was exactly as friendly as he should have been. The people could not see the difference between, “This is the sort of prophet whom I like to have” and “This is the sort of prophet whom I need.”
I think it would be very presumptuous of me to presume that I or any other member of the clergy brings exactly the level of friendliness or fasting that we ought to. When people complain about us, they are probably often justified. But just because the person preaching is too much this and not enough that does not mean that their message is useless. Sometimes people become preoccupied with judging some clergy and rejecting others and even celebrating others. As St. Paul says, “If you judge the law, you are not a follower of the law.” If we are trying to judge whether we liked the homily, we are not listening to the homily and being moved by the presence of the Holy Spirit.
The greatest difficulty with this is that there are many false shepherds. There are wolves in sheep’s clothing who come into the Church as clergy and then preach the opposite of the Church’s teachings, or worse, commit grave sins and claim that what they are doing is good. Do we not need to be on our guard? Yes, but whether they are too fat or thin, too loud or quiet, too American or foreign, too liberal or conservative, too happy or sad, too smart or dumb, or whatever other human traits attract us or stand in the way of following them, we know that we do not worship them but Jesus Christ. If they lead us to Jesus, we can get over their faults. If they lead us away from him, it would not matter how pleasant they are. It is nice to find a preacher who is fun and easy to listen to, but it is far more important that they will lead us to Jesus.
October 5, 2012 - Friday of the Twenty-sixth Week in Ordinary Time
Job 38:1, 12-21; 40:3-5
Psalm 139:1-3, 7-10, 13-14
Luke 10:13-16
God’s point in this reading is important for Job, but it is very important for us and our culture. Either God is the judge and the human is being judged, or the human is the judge and God is being judged. The latter is the most widespread view in modern times, even among Christians. We are the judges of God. Perhaps I find him not guilty, or make some excuse for any action of his that I am dissatisfied with, but I am still the judge of God. It is very difficult to shift this perspective around 180 degrees, where God is my judge, and I am not in the position to judge him.
This is why God says to Job, “Where were you when I created the universe?” This series of questions, very sarcastic, are a dismissal of Job’s criticism of God. Job was suffering greatly and offered a very soft criticism of God: if we will be punished for wrong, then it would be nice if God would make it clearer what wrong we have done. The irony of Job is that we the reader know from the very beginning that his suffering is not because of any wrong he has done but because God allows Satan to put him to the test. The natural reaction of a modern person to reading the beginning of Job, where God allows this test, is to preside as judge over God: “How dare he allow such a thing?” But then I remember that I was not there either when God created the universe. Really, we are in the same position as Job. We do not know why God has done what he did, only that he did it.
In the Old Testament, God has people fight wars and execute others and many other things which I do not agree with at first sight, but God does not need my approval. I cannot fire him. Just because an act of God does not make sense to me does not mean that it is unreasonable. He is God no matter what I think. I do not stand as his judge. He will judge me. And on that day, I will see how his judgment of me is perfectly fair. How everything he has ever done is right and just. Until that day, I must strive to shift my perspective away from evaluating God. I am unqualified to do it.
Psalm 139:1-3, 7-10, 13-14
Luke 10:13-16
God’s point in this reading is important for Job, but it is very important for us and our culture. Either God is the judge and the human is being judged, or the human is the judge and God is being judged. The latter is the most widespread view in modern times, even among Christians. We are the judges of God. Perhaps I find him not guilty, or make some excuse for any action of his that I am dissatisfied with, but I am still the judge of God. It is very difficult to shift this perspective around 180 degrees, where God is my judge, and I am not in the position to judge him.
This is why God says to Job, “Where were you when I created the universe?” This series of questions, very sarcastic, are a dismissal of Job’s criticism of God. Job was suffering greatly and offered a very soft criticism of God: if we will be punished for wrong, then it would be nice if God would make it clearer what wrong we have done. The irony of Job is that we the reader know from the very beginning that his suffering is not because of any wrong he has done but because God allows Satan to put him to the test. The natural reaction of a modern person to reading the beginning of Job, where God allows this test, is to preside as judge over God: “How dare he allow such a thing?” But then I remember that I was not there either when God created the universe. Really, we are in the same position as Job. We do not know why God has done what he did, only that he did it.
In the Old Testament, God has people fight wars and execute others and many other things which I do not agree with at first sight, but God does not need my approval. I cannot fire him. Just because an act of God does not make sense to me does not mean that it is unreasonable. He is God no matter what I think. I do not stand as his judge. He will judge me. And on that day, I will see how his judgment of me is perfectly fair. How everything he has ever done is right and just. Until that day, I must strive to shift my perspective away from evaluating God. I am unqualified to do it.
September 28, 2012 - Friday of the Twenty-fifth Week in Ordinary Time
Ecclesiastes 3:1-11
Psalm 144:1-4
Luke 9:18-22
This reading from Ecclesiastes simply acknowledges that there is a time for everything under the sun: a time for good and a time for bad. It is impossible to disagree with these facts. There is a time for war and a time for peace. There is a time to kill and a time to heal. Nevertheless, we immediately jump to the question: Does it have to be this way? Could the final time for war come and go? Could we change the world so that there is a time to laugh without a time to weep? Or if we are unable to change things, could God have created it better?
Has God given us an inferior universe? Do we even really matter to him? What are humans that you care for them, Lord? Well, as far as we know, we are the only spiritual beings in the material universe. All of this was created just for us. God created distant galaxies so that the night sky would be more interesting. The highest revelation of God’s generosity to us is his gift of self in Jesus Christ. As he tells us in the Gospel today, he went to the Cross willingly, for no reason except to save us. If he has given us all this, it is proof that he loves us and has done everything for us.
Ecclesiastes is simply acknowledging hard truths, like the psalm does, when it compares us to a breath that quickly passes away. These hard truths are how things seem to be, but there is a deeper truth. Death makes life pass away, and that is a hard truth, but the deeper truth is that we will rise again. There are good times and bad times, and that is a hard truth, but the deeper truth is that God has planned a time for us with no tears, a time of everlasting peace. What are humans that you care for them, Lord? We are his beloved children, and he has plans for us. We might wish that he did not have so many plans for us. We are his beloved children, not his pets. Everything we experience is part of his plan for us to mature and live with him forever. Not that God causes the bad, but he does know what will happen, and he has a foolproof plan to get us through it all, through the best of times and the worst of times.
Psalm 144:1-4
Luke 9:18-22
This reading from Ecclesiastes simply acknowledges that there is a time for everything under the sun: a time for good and a time for bad. It is impossible to disagree with these facts. There is a time for war and a time for peace. There is a time to kill and a time to heal. Nevertheless, we immediately jump to the question: Does it have to be this way? Could the final time for war come and go? Could we change the world so that there is a time to laugh without a time to weep? Or if we are unable to change things, could God have created it better?
Has God given us an inferior universe? Do we even really matter to him? What are humans that you care for them, Lord? Well, as far as we know, we are the only spiritual beings in the material universe. All of this was created just for us. God created distant galaxies so that the night sky would be more interesting. The highest revelation of God’s generosity to us is his gift of self in Jesus Christ. As he tells us in the Gospel today, he went to the Cross willingly, for no reason except to save us. If he has given us all this, it is proof that he loves us and has done everything for us.
Ecclesiastes is simply acknowledging hard truths, like the psalm does, when it compares us to a breath that quickly passes away. These hard truths are how things seem to be, but there is a deeper truth. Death makes life pass away, and that is a hard truth, but the deeper truth is that we will rise again. There are good times and bad times, and that is a hard truth, but the deeper truth is that God has planned a time for us with no tears, a time of everlasting peace. What are humans that you care for them, Lord? We are his beloved children, and he has plans for us. We might wish that he did not have so many plans for us. We are his beloved children, not his pets. Everything we experience is part of his plan for us to mature and live with him forever. Not that God causes the bad, but he does know what will happen, and he has a foolproof plan to get us through it all, through the best of times and the worst of times.
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.
May 6, 2012 - Fifth Sunday of Easter
Acts 9:26-31
Psalm 22:26-28, 30-32
1 John 3:18-24
John 15:1-8
St. John in the reading today writes about our hearts condemning us. Is this an experience that you have? When you reflect back on something you did does your heart condemn you? It can be something slight or something very serious but when we remember it is for a moment we cringe. We go through life accruing memories, some good and some bad, but worst of all are the memories of something we did or something we fail to do that when we recall our hearts condemn us.
To be condemned by your own heart is on one level a good sign. It proves that we know the difference between right and wrong. There are some people, it seems, who have done great evil and yet their hearts do not condemn them. That is a most pitiable state. To look back with regret and sadness on your own past proves that you are not defined by what you did. It proves that there is something within you that knows better.
Brothers and sisters, if your heart condemns you, remember what St. John tells us: “God is greater than our hearts and knows everything.” If your heart condemns you, God can still forgive you. He knows everything, so there is no need to come to God with excuses or explanations. He already knows. He knows what you are feeling. He knows what you were afraid of. When we come before God, it is only sensible for us to drop every pretense and disguise. He sees through them all anyway. When we are judged by God we will know that we have been judged absolutely justly. Everything will have been taken into account, and when we hear the judgment we will have to admit that it is exactly right.
Since God will not condemn us but rather forgive us, we can move beyond the ways in which our heart condemns us. It is not only these negative memories that have power. It is not only our sins that are true. There is something else that is true and creates positive memories that we can rely on, memories of love.
“Children,” St. John writes to us, “let us love not in word or speech by in deed and truth.” We all acknowledge that love is good. We all acknowledge that we should love one another. But that is not enough if we do not actually love. And how can we love, if we do not know what love is? Love is not a feeling. There are feelings associated with love, but love is not a feeling. God commands us to love, and he cannot command us to feel he can only command us to act. So love is an action. Blessed John Paul II taught in his book Love and Responsibility that love consists of three actions. We are commanded to love others so we should do these three actions.
The first action is seeing the good in the other person. We cannot love another person without seeing the good in them. Love begins with this act of seeing. Sometimes this is easy like love at first sight where all you can do is see the good in the other person. Sometimes this is extremely difficult, such as when loving an enemy or someone who has hurt you. Nevertheless, since God made every person it is always possible to see the good in them. We have to look at them the way God looks at them.
The second action of love is the most obvious: we have to do good for them. The action of loving a person requires willing the good for them. We come to someone we love as a servant, the way Jesus came to us. “What can I do for you?” That question is the essence of love. It implies that we are placing ourselves completely at the service of the other person.
The third action of love is to allow the other person to love us. Love demands an openness to being loved. This requires making ourselves vulnerable enough to be loved. We do not go to the person whom we are loving as an alien or a superior being who only comes to offer love. We come as a fellow human being equally in need of love. God himself allows us to love him.
These three actions provide a specific definition of love. This is true whether we are speaking about loving a spouse or loving a stranger. Let us consider this definition with the spouse. You look at your spouse and see the good in them. You see their beauty. You know them and all of their skills and strengths. And you see someone whom God has made. So you do good for them. You care for them in sickness and health, in good times and bad. You give your self, your work, your body, to them. This gift of self between husband and wife is so complete that it is an image of how Jesus Christ gave himself to the Church. And this relationship would be absurd and unreal without the third action: you allow your spouse to love you in return. You are completely vulnerable to them, allowing them to see you, to know you, to serve you.
Let us consider this definition with the poor stranger who asks you for help. You look at them and see them and see the good in them. You see someone whom God has made. So you become their servant. You do good for them. Not necessarily everything they want because they are not perfect, but neither do you do for them something that comes entirely from you and your plans, because you are not perfect. You try to discern together with them but God's will for them is and then you do that. And through all this, you allow them to love you, because you do not come into their life as someone above them doing a good deed but as another human being just like them in everything except circumstances.
When love is broken down into these three actions, it becomes clearer what we should do in order to love everyone, but there is still the question of how. Loving not merely in words but in deed and truth requires an enormous energy. We can never do this on our own. The energy to love comes to us from the one who loves us unconditionally.
This is what it means, the parable of the vine and the branches. Just as the life of the branch comes from the vine, so too the love that we do comes from remaining connected to God. Without God, we are like broken branches drying out in the sun, brittle and useless. But if we begin by loving God, seeing how good he is, giving him our complete self, body and soul, to serve him in worship, and then allow him to love us in return, we cannot be detached from the vine and the infinite life-giving energy that comes from God will fill us and overflow in our love of others.
Psalm 22:26-28, 30-32
1 John 3:18-24
John 15:1-8
St. John in the reading today writes about our hearts condemning us. Is this an experience that you have? When you reflect back on something you did does your heart condemn you? It can be something slight or something very serious but when we remember it is for a moment we cringe. We go through life accruing memories, some good and some bad, but worst of all are the memories of something we did or something we fail to do that when we recall our hearts condemn us.
To be condemned by your own heart is on one level a good sign. It proves that we know the difference between right and wrong. There are some people, it seems, who have done great evil and yet their hearts do not condemn them. That is a most pitiable state. To look back with regret and sadness on your own past proves that you are not defined by what you did. It proves that there is something within you that knows better.
Brothers and sisters, if your heart condemns you, remember what St. John tells us: “God is greater than our hearts and knows everything.” If your heart condemns you, God can still forgive you. He knows everything, so there is no need to come to God with excuses or explanations. He already knows. He knows what you are feeling. He knows what you were afraid of. When we come before God, it is only sensible for us to drop every pretense and disguise. He sees through them all anyway. When we are judged by God we will know that we have been judged absolutely justly. Everything will have been taken into account, and when we hear the judgment we will have to admit that it is exactly right.
Since God will not condemn us but rather forgive us, we can move beyond the ways in which our heart condemns us. It is not only these negative memories that have power. It is not only our sins that are true. There is something else that is true and creates positive memories that we can rely on, memories of love.
“Children,” St. John writes to us, “let us love not in word or speech by in deed and truth.” We all acknowledge that love is good. We all acknowledge that we should love one another. But that is not enough if we do not actually love. And how can we love, if we do not know what love is? Love is not a feeling. There are feelings associated with love, but love is not a feeling. God commands us to love, and he cannot command us to feel he can only command us to act. So love is an action. Blessed John Paul II taught in his book Love and Responsibility that love consists of three actions. We are commanded to love others so we should do these three actions.
The first action is seeing the good in the other person. We cannot love another person without seeing the good in them. Love begins with this act of seeing. Sometimes this is easy like love at first sight where all you can do is see the good in the other person. Sometimes this is extremely difficult, such as when loving an enemy or someone who has hurt you. Nevertheless, since God made every person it is always possible to see the good in them. We have to look at them the way God looks at them.
The second action of love is the most obvious: we have to do good for them. The action of loving a person requires willing the good for them. We come to someone we love as a servant, the way Jesus came to us. “What can I do for you?” That question is the essence of love. It implies that we are placing ourselves completely at the service of the other person.
The third action of love is to allow the other person to love us. Love demands an openness to being loved. This requires making ourselves vulnerable enough to be loved. We do not go to the person whom we are loving as an alien or a superior being who only comes to offer love. We come as a fellow human being equally in need of love. God himself allows us to love him.
These three actions provide a specific definition of love. This is true whether we are speaking about loving a spouse or loving a stranger. Let us consider this definition with the spouse. You look at your spouse and see the good in them. You see their beauty. You know them and all of their skills and strengths. And you see someone whom God has made. So you do good for them. You care for them in sickness and health, in good times and bad. You give your self, your work, your body, to them. This gift of self between husband and wife is so complete that it is an image of how Jesus Christ gave himself to the Church. And this relationship would be absurd and unreal without the third action: you allow your spouse to love you in return. You are completely vulnerable to them, allowing them to see you, to know you, to serve you.
Let us consider this definition with the poor stranger who asks you for help. You look at them and see them and see the good in them. You see someone whom God has made. So you become their servant. You do good for them. Not necessarily everything they want because they are not perfect, but neither do you do for them something that comes entirely from you and your plans, because you are not perfect. You try to discern together with them but God's will for them is and then you do that. And through all this, you allow them to love you, because you do not come into their life as someone above them doing a good deed but as another human being just like them in everything except circumstances.
When love is broken down into these three actions, it becomes clearer what we should do in order to love everyone, but there is still the question of how. Loving not merely in words but in deed and truth requires an enormous energy. We can never do this on our own. The energy to love comes to us from the one who loves us unconditionally.
This is what it means, the parable of the vine and the branches. Just as the life of the branch comes from the vine, so too the love that we do comes from remaining connected to God. Without God, we are like broken branches drying out in the sun, brittle and useless. But if we begin by loving God, seeing how good he is, giving him our complete self, body and soul, to serve him in worship, and then allow him to love us in return, we cannot be detached from the vine and the infinite life-giving energy that comes from God will fill us and overflow in our love of others.
April 23, 2012 - Monday of the Third Week of Easter
Today's Readings
The false witnesses reveal their problem with St. Stephen today. According to them, “This man never stops saying things.” I am sure they wish that he would stop saying things, but he never did. Really, the whole point of the killing him, making him the first martyr for the faith, was to force him to stop saying things.
A preacher is required to say things that people may not enjoy hearing. If I came with my own gospel, I promise you, it would be a pleasant and easy gospel, every part of it, because the words I say are directed equally to me as they are to anyone else, but if I preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ, I cannot stop saying things that upset people, because Jesus often said things that upset people.
A crowd crosses the Sea of Galilee to find Jesus. Does he welcome them with open arms? No. He informs the crowd that they are only following him for selfish reasons. They were filled with bread and fish, and they would like always to have abundant food that they did not need to work for. They ought to have seen the miracle as a sign of who Jesus is. Once someone understands who Jesus is, they cannot leave him. Like St. Peter who, after this crowd abandons Jesus, and Jesus asks whether he will go too said, “To whom shall we go? You have the words of everlasting life.”
Jesus does not reject the crowd, but he does push back against them until they leave in frustration. By leaving, they prove that he is right. Nothing that Jesus said should have been able to make them upset with him. They were in no position to judge the words of Jesus, but they do judge him and decide against him. They would have preferred that he keep quiet and keep the bread and fish coming, but he insisted on saying things. If he had to keep saying things, he should have said comfortable, easy things, but he said difficult, confusing things instead.
Who are we to judge the Gospel? We cannot agree with Jesus when he says one thing and disagree with him later. The work of God is to believe in the one whom he has sent. Once we do that, the only logical action is to believe everything that Jesus ever said even if we are sure that it cannot be right.
The false witnesses reveal their problem with St. Stephen today. According to them, “This man never stops saying things.” I am sure they wish that he would stop saying things, but he never did. Really, the whole point of the killing him, making him the first martyr for the faith, was to force him to stop saying things.
A preacher is required to say things that people may not enjoy hearing. If I came with my own gospel, I promise you, it would be a pleasant and easy gospel, every part of it, because the words I say are directed equally to me as they are to anyone else, but if I preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ, I cannot stop saying things that upset people, because Jesus often said things that upset people.
A crowd crosses the Sea of Galilee to find Jesus. Does he welcome them with open arms? No. He informs the crowd that they are only following him for selfish reasons. They were filled with bread and fish, and they would like always to have abundant food that they did not need to work for. They ought to have seen the miracle as a sign of who Jesus is. Once someone understands who Jesus is, they cannot leave him. Like St. Peter who, after this crowd abandons Jesus, and Jesus asks whether he will go too said, “To whom shall we go? You have the words of everlasting life.”
Jesus does not reject the crowd, but he does push back against them until they leave in frustration. By leaving, they prove that he is right. Nothing that Jesus said should have been able to make them upset with him. They were in no position to judge the words of Jesus, but they do judge him and decide against him. They would have preferred that he keep quiet and keep the bread and fish coming, but he insisted on saying things. If he had to keep saying things, he should have said comfortable, easy things, but he said difficult, confusing things instead.
Who are we to judge the Gospel? We cannot agree with Jesus when he says one thing and disagree with him later. The work of God is to believe in the one whom he has sent. Once we do that, the only logical action is to believe everything that Jesus ever said even if we are sure that it cannot be right.
March 24, 2012 - Saturday of the Fourth Week of Lent
Today's Readings
The Pharisees have put together an argument that seems unassailable. No prophet is supposed to come from Galilee, certainly not the Christ. Even the crowd knows that the Christ comes from Bethlehem. Everybody knows that. Therefore, Jesus is not the Christ. They tell Nicodemus, when he suggests that they should listen to the words of Jesus before making a judgment, “Look and see that no prophet arises from Galilee.” Perhaps someone had gone to great lengths to prove this fact, perhaps writing a detailed paper on the topic. In the end, none of this matters, since Jesus was born in Bethlehem and only moved to Galilee later in life. This is a good example of how we can be wrong while feeling like we are right. The Pharisees concentrated so hard on the fact that no prophet would arise from Galilee that they forget to make sure that Jesus was from Galilee. Complex arguments, solidly built, can be defeated by one little fact.
Thank God we are not called to judge others. When we see someone doing something, there is no need for us to judge them. Unless we know the exact details of their life, we are forced to presume so many things in order to make a judgment. This is equally true with regard to our neighbors and to public figures. How many times I have heard someone speak about the President or members of Congress as if only the most evil intentions could explain their actions, as if anyone we disagree with must also be a terrible person.
The difficulty in judging rightly should give us pause when we have to make judgments about students or children or employees. We should realize how limited our judgments are; even if we have to judge actions or results, we never can judge people. People are simply too complex; there are too many unknown factors. Only God, who knows each of us better than we know ourselves, can judge a person. He is the searcher of heart and soul, so only he can be a just judge.
Sometimes we need to make judgments, but we must always remember that these judgments are conditional and quite possibly wrong. The greatest of the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit is wisdom. By this gift, the judgment of God is revealed to us. We should earnestly pray for wisdom, that God will inform us of what we need to know in order to do his will more effectively.
The Pharisees have put together an argument that seems unassailable. No prophet is supposed to come from Galilee, certainly not the Christ. Even the crowd knows that the Christ comes from Bethlehem. Everybody knows that. Therefore, Jesus is not the Christ. They tell Nicodemus, when he suggests that they should listen to the words of Jesus before making a judgment, “Look and see that no prophet arises from Galilee.” Perhaps someone had gone to great lengths to prove this fact, perhaps writing a detailed paper on the topic. In the end, none of this matters, since Jesus was born in Bethlehem and only moved to Galilee later in life. This is a good example of how we can be wrong while feeling like we are right. The Pharisees concentrated so hard on the fact that no prophet would arise from Galilee that they forget to make sure that Jesus was from Galilee. Complex arguments, solidly built, can be defeated by one little fact.
Thank God we are not called to judge others. When we see someone doing something, there is no need for us to judge them. Unless we know the exact details of their life, we are forced to presume so many things in order to make a judgment. This is equally true with regard to our neighbors and to public figures. How many times I have heard someone speak about the President or members of Congress as if only the most evil intentions could explain their actions, as if anyone we disagree with must also be a terrible person.
The difficulty in judging rightly should give us pause when we have to make judgments about students or children or employees. We should realize how limited our judgments are; even if we have to judge actions or results, we never can judge people. People are simply too complex; there are too many unknown factors. Only God, who knows each of us better than we know ourselves, can judge a person. He is the searcher of heart and soul, so only he can be a just judge.
Sometimes we need to make judgments, but we must always remember that these judgments are conditional and quite possibly wrong. The greatest of the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit is wisdom. By this gift, the judgment of God is revealed to us. We should earnestly pray for wisdom, that God will inform us of what we need to know in order to do his will more effectively.
March 20, 2012 - Tuesday of the Fourth Week of Lent.
Today’s Readings
Ezekiel sees the river of God’s mercy, flowing out of the temple, into the world. At first Ezekiel is trying to measure God’s mercy: 1000 cubits by ankle-deep, 1000 cubits by knee-deep, 1000 cubits by waist deep. Finally, Ezekiel can no longer measure God’s mercy. He can only swim in it.
Wherever this river goes, every living creature shall live. This seems sort of redundant, a tautology, but Jesus says “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly” Life is not just an on-off switch: on the one hand, a person can live, or on the other hand, a person can live abundantly. The trees bear fruit every month, and their leaves never fade. The trees are being watered by God’s mercy. Because of this water, their fruit is good for food and their leaves are good for medicine. These are amazing trees, or, rather, this water is amazing water. They are alive, and other living trees seem dead. We must discern: are we alive? We walk and talk, but are we alive? The wages of sin are death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus. Are we earning death or accepting life?
If we want to be alive, if we want the water of God’s mercy, we have to be merciful. Being merciful means sharing the burden. Mercy comes after justice. It does not remove justice. Mercy does not allow injustice. Justice creates a burden and then mercy shares it. If someone is bad at their job, justice fires them, then mercy finds them a job they can do. If a person commits murder, justice sentences them to prison, then mercy visits them there. A beautiful image of mercy is a mother, who, seeing that her son’s room is a mess, tells him that he cannot go out to play until it is clean, and then helps him clean the room.
I meet many people in my work who are in difficult situations, and often it is amazing how many poor choices they have made that have led to their situation. We could judge them: "We have worked hard; have they?" But, thanks be to God, we have no call to judge the vast majority of the world. When we see someone suffering under a burden, all we have to do is share in it. When we choose to be merciful, we share in their poverty and allow them to share in our riches. That way, God, who has already shared in our poverty, will allow us to share in his riches.
Ezekiel sees the river of God’s mercy, flowing out of the temple, into the world. At first Ezekiel is trying to measure God’s mercy: 1000 cubits by ankle-deep, 1000 cubits by knee-deep, 1000 cubits by waist deep. Finally, Ezekiel can no longer measure God’s mercy. He can only swim in it.
Wherever this river goes, every living creature shall live. This seems sort of redundant, a tautology, but Jesus says “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly” Life is not just an on-off switch: on the one hand, a person can live, or on the other hand, a person can live abundantly. The trees bear fruit every month, and their leaves never fade. The trees are being watered by God’s mercy. Because of this water, their fruit is good for food and their leaves are good for medicine. These are amazing trees, or, rather, this water is amazing water. They are alive, and other living trees seem dead. We must discern: are we alive? We walk and talk, but are we alive? The wages of sin are death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus. Are we earning death or accepting life?
If we want to be alive, if we want the water of God’s mercy, we have to be merciful. Being merciful means sharing the burden. Mercy comes after justice. It does not remove justice. Mercy does not allow injustice. Justice creates a burden and then mercy shares it. If someone is bad at their job, justice fires them, then mercy finds them a job they can do. If a person commits murder, justice sentences them to prison, then mercy visits them there. A beautiful image of mercy is a mother, who, seeing that her son’s room is a mess, tells him that he cannot go out to play until it is clean, and then helps him clean the room.
I meet many people in my work who are in difficult situations, and often it is amazing how many poor choices they have made that have led to their situation. We could judge them: "We have worked hard; have they?" But, thanks be to God, we have no call to judge the vast majority of the world. When we see someone suffering under a burden, all we have to do is share in it. When we choose to be merciful, we share in their poverty and allow them to share in our riches. That way, God, who has already shared in our poverty, will allow us to share in his riches.
February 3, 2012 - Friday of the Fourth Week in Ordinary Time
Today's Readings
As Sirach chooses how to summarize the life of King David, he mentions some things that would be mentioned in any history: killing Goliath with a stone, the defeat of the Philistines, and the many songs and prayers he wrote. In a modern history, just as in the actual record we have from the books of Samuel and Chronicles, his sins would play a larger part though. The only thing that Sirach has to say about his sins is that the Lord forgave him.
Perhaps Sirach’s account is too rosy for a man who committed adultery, murdered loyal servant, and forgot his role as a steward of God's people. The original account is harsher too concerning David's war against the Philistines. By Sirach's description it was all glory, but God would not let David build his temple since his hands had shed too much blood. By Sirach's account, David is a hero.
But David is a hero. He did kill Goliath when the Philistines threatened to destroy Israel. He did establish Israel as a kingdom. He was not perfect, not by any means, but then no one in the Bible is except Jesus and his mother. Noah was a drunk. Abraham was a cowardly liar. Moses was a murderer. In other words, they were just like us. What is remarkable about them was not that they never did anything wrong, but that they did something right. Modern histories may dwell on the dark valleys of a life, but there is something to be said for the glorious peaks as well.
We could look at David and say, “Well at least I’ve never been as bad as he was”, but then have we ever been as good as he was? Even King Herod liked to listen to John the Baptist, and did not want to kill him. What does it take to judge a human life? Should we consider how good someone has been or how low they have sunk, or simply take an average of a whole life?
This sort of calculation is too much for anyone. We must not think that our good deeds will outweigh our bad ones. We must rely on the mercy of God, that he will forgive us our sins as he forgave the sins of David. The most important fact about David in the first reading today is not that he killed a giant or who he defeated. It is is this: “The LORD forgave him his sins.”
As Sirach chooses how to summarize the life of King David, he mentions some things that would be mentioned in any history: killing Goliath with a stone, the defeat of the Philistines, and the many songs and prayers he wrote. In a modern history, just as in the actual record we have from the books of Samuel and Chronicles, his sins would play a larger part though. The only thing that Sirach has to say about his sins is that the Lord forgave him.
Perhaps Sirach’s account is too rosy for a man who committed adultery, murdered loyal servant, and forgot his role as a steward of God's people. The original account is harsher too concerning David's war against the Philistines. By Sirach's description it was all glory, but God would not let David build his temple since his hands had shed too much blood. By Sirach's account, David is a hero.
But David is a hero. He did kill Goliath when the Philistines threatened to destroy Israel. He did establish Israel as a kingdom. He was not perfect, not by any means, but then no one in the Bible is except Jesus and his mother. Noah was a drunk. Abraham was a cowardly liar. Moses was a murderer. In other words, they were just like us. What is remarkable about them was not that they never did anything wrong, but that they did something right. Modern histories may dwell on the dark valleys of a life, but there is something to be said for the glorious peaks as well.
We could look at David and say, “Well at least I’ve never been as bad as he was”, but then have we ever been as good as he was? Even King Herod liked to listen to John the Baptist, and did not want to kill him. What does it take to judge a human life? Should we consider how good someone has been or how low they have sunk, or simply take an average of a whole life?
This sort of calculation is too much for anyone. We must not think that our good deeds will outweigh our bad ones. We must rely on the mercy of God, that he will forgive us our sins as he forgave the sins of David. The most important fact about David in the first reading today is not that he killed a giant or who he defeated. It is is this: “The LORD forgave him his sins.”
October 12, 2011 - Wednesday of the Twenty-Eighth Week in Ordinary Time
Today's Readings
“You condemn yourself by the standard with which you judge another, since you, the judge, do the very same things.” First of all, you judge someone who has offended you because they offended you, even though you actually do the very same thing to others. Who is more upset to be interrupted in conversation than an interrupter? Who hates to be stolen from more than a thief? The irony is often lost on us when we suffer the carelessness and casual selfishness that we ourselves inflict on others.
Do these sins sound minor and unimportant? Perhaps they do when you commit them yourself. Anyone can say, “Yes, I am sure I have interrupted people from time to time; yes, I have taken supplies home from the office and surfed the internet at work, but everyone does these things.” That is no excuse, and you know it, because when you are interrupted, when people are stealing from you and cheating you, you do not say, “But everyone does these things.”
And these words of St. Paul apply nonetheless to what we call “serious sins”. Perhaps you have never killed anyone or committed adultery, so in these areas you feel free to pass judgment. It is true that there are so many species of sins that no one has literally committed every sin in the book. So we call whichever sins we do not ourselves commit “the serious sins” and pass judgment on those who do.
Yet even though we have not committed those specific sins, sin is sin, no matter the species. Behind every sin is pride and often selfishness. To commit any sin a person must possess the pride required to defy God. Most sins also involve the selfishness required to hurt a fellow human being. When we judge another, we are identifying pride and selfishness. If we look in our own heart, we will find the same pride and selfishness there.
Of course, there are sins and there are crimes. As a society, we have to judge crimes and make use of prisons, but if we walked through a prison we would not find there some other kind of human being. There are not good people and bad people in this world; just repentant and unrepentant people. We are all selfish. We are all proud. We all rely on the priceless kindness, forbearance, and patience of God to lead us to repentance.
“You condemn yourself by the standard with which you judge another, since you, the judge, do the very same things.” First of all, you judge someone who has offended you because they offended you, even though you actually do the very same thing to others. Who is more upset to be interrupted in conversation than an interrupter? Who hates to be stolen from more than a thief? The irony is often lost on us when we suffer the carelessness and casual selfishness that we ourselves inflict on others.
Do these sins sound minor and unimportant? Perhaps they do when you commit them yourself. Anyone can say, “Yes, I am sure I have interrupted people from time to time; yes, I have taken supplies home from the office and surfed the internet at work, but everyone does these things.” That is no excuse, and you know it, because when you are interrupted, when people are stealing from you and cheating you, you do not say, “But everyone does these things.”
And these words of St. Paul apply nonetheless to what we call “serious sins”. Perhaps you have never killed anyone or committed adultery, so in these areas you feel free to pass judgment. It is true that there are so many species of sins that no one has literally committed every sin in the book. So we call whichever sins we do not ourselves commit “the serious sins” and pass judgment on those who do.
Yet even though we have not committed those specific sins, sin is sin, no matter the species. Behind every sin is pride and often selfishness. To commit any sin a person must possess the pride required to defy God. Most sins also involve the selfishness required to hurt a fellow human being. When we judge another, we are identifying pride and selfishness. If we look in our own heart, we will find the same pride and selfishness there.
Of course, there are sins and there are crimes. As a society, we have to judge crimes and make use of prisons, but if we walked through a prison we would not find there some other kind of human being. There are not good people and bad people in this world; just repentant and unrepentant people. We are all selfish. We are all proud. We all rely on the priceless kindness, forbearance, and patience of God to lead us to repentance.
October 8, 2011 - Saturday of the Twenty-Seventh Week in Ordinary Time
Today's Readings
Are you ready for that day: the day of the Lord? For near is the day of the Lord, in the valley of decision. We will all gather there, in the valley of decision. Crowds of crowds, a hundred billion people, in the valley of decision. The sun will be darkened, and the stars will not shine, in the valley of decision. And God will sit in judgment of all sinners, in the valley of decision. We can make excuses now; we can explain our actions so well, but we will have nothing to say there except the truth, the real truth, in the valley of decision.
We shall know then, even as we are now known. We will all see God, and there will be no doubt any longer. The era of faith will be over because we will see for ourselves what is invisible now. Now there is a curtain between us and the angels, but it will be lifted and we will see everything. We have been visible this whole time. Right now we are like blind people in a world of those who can see. All of our actions, even those done in the dark which we think no one knows about, have already been seen, but only then will we see.
On that day, there will be a land flowing with milk and honey, the mountains dripping with wine, and water flowing in every stream. It will be a garden, like the garden that we lost by our sin, and the people there will live forever and they will never lose their home again. And on that day there will also be a land that is a desert waste, where nothing will grow. It will be a land of constant violence.
When the judgment is over, we will all go to one land or the other. We will all enter into eternal joy or perpetual boredom. Some will blessed, and some will be cursed. The blessed will be those who hear the word of God and observe it. The cursed will be those who only do what they want. This will not be decided on that day; it is being decided today, here, now. Today is the day of salvation. Today we are deciding where we will spend forever. We decide it here and now; it is revealed then and there, on that day in the valley of decision.
Are you ready for that day: the day of the Lord? For near is the day of the Lord, in the valley of decision. We will all gather there, in the valley of decision. Crowds of crowds, a hundred billion people, in the valley of decision. The sun will be darkened, and the stars will not shine, in the valley of decision. And God will sit in judgment of all sinners, in the valley of decision. We can make excuses now; we can explain our actions so well, but we will have nothing to say there except the truth, the real truth, in the valley of decision.
We shall know then, even as we are now known. We will all see God, and there will be no doubt any longer. The era of faith will be over because we will see for ourselves what is invisible now. Now there is a curtain between us and the angels, but it will be lifted and we will see everything. We have been visible this whole time. Right now we are like blind people in a world of those who can see. All of our actions, even those done in the dark which we think no one knows about, have already been seen, but only then will we see.
On that day, there will be a land flowing with milk and honey, the mountains dripping with wine, and water flowing in every stream. It will be a garden, like the garden that we lost by our sin, and the people there will live forever and they will never lose their home again. And on that day there will also be a land that is a desert waste, where nothing will grow. It will be a land of constant violence.
When the judgment is over, we will all go to one land or the other. We will all enter into eternal joy or perpetual boredom. Some will blessed, and some will be cursed. The blessed will be those who hear the word of God and observe it. The cursed will be those who only do what they want. This will not be decided on that day; it is being decided today, here, now. Today is the day of salvation. Today we are deciding where we will spend forever. We decide it here and now; it is revealed then and there, on that day in the valley of decision.
August 23, 2011 - Tuesday of the Twenty-First Week in Ordinary Time
Today's Readings
A pure hypocrite plays a role in public that is completely disconnected from their real life. They preach about a God who they do not believe in. They preach morality which they never even try to follow. To be a pure hypocrite requires a certain type of personality. It does not seem like the scribes and Pharisees were really pure hypocrites, although there probably were a few such among them.
Then there is the universal human experience of hypocrisy. We preach an ideal that we fail to live up to. We talk about God even though we have doubts. Although this is usually how someone gets labeled a hypocrite in modern conversation, so that those who support any morality are called hypocrites because they fail to live up to that morality, everyone can see this hypocrisy in their own life. The lesson to be drawn from it is not to give up on morality but to be careful about condemning the guilty; we may be the next to fall ourselves. Everyone deserves the love, respect, and understanding that we want for ourselves when we are guilty.
The scribes and Pharisees were guilty of this hypocrisy because we all are, and they did often fall short of extending the mercy they desired for themselves, but they were also guilty of another hypocrisy. This is the hypocrisy of those who live for an image of themselves. They are more concerned with seeming good then being good. I imagine that the scribes and Pharisees would not submit to this charge. They might tell us that they tithe mint and dill even when no one is watching, but they are mistaken. They tithe the mint and dill because they are watching themselves. A hypocrite of this kind wants to seem holy, if only to themself.
It is easy to reject the life of a pure hypocrite as despicable, but we must guard carefully against these other two hypocrisies: considering ourselves too good to commit a serious sin and hiding our serious faults behind religious practice. A Christian knows that “There but for the grace of God go I” is not just a catchphrase but profound truth, and a Christian always admits that they are a sinner in need of forgiveness. Do not be afraid to admit you have done wrong; do not defend your sins; do not be satisfied with who you are: allow God to forgive you; allow God to make you perfect.
A pure hypocrite plays a role in public that is completely disconnected from their real life. They preach about a God who they do not believe in. They preach morality which they never even try to follow. To be a pure hypocrite requires a certain type of personality. It does not seem like the scribes and Pharisees were really pure hypocrites, although there probably were a few such among them.
Then there is the universal human experience of hypocrisy. We preach an ideal that we fail to live up to. We talk about God even though we have doubts. Although this is usually how someone gets labeled a hypocrite in modern conversation, so that those who support any morality are called hypocrites because they fail to live up to that morality, everyone can see this hypocrisy in their own life. The lesson to be drawn from it is not to give up on morality but to be careful about condemning the guilty; we may be the next to fall ourselves. Everyone deserves the love, respect, and understanding that we want for ourselves when we are guilty.
The scribes and Pharisees were guilty of this hypocrisy because we all are, and they did often fall short of extending the mercy they desired for themselves, but they were also guilty of another hypocrisy. This is the hypocrisy of those who live for an image of themselves. They are more concerned with seeming good then being good. I imagine that the scribes and Pharisees would not submit to this charge. They might tell us that they tithe mint and dill even when no one is watching, but they are mistaken. They tithe the mint and dill because they are watching themselves. A hypocrite of this kind wants to seem holy, if only to themself.
It is easy to reject the life of a pure hypocrite as despicable, but we must guard carefully against these other two hypocrisies: considering ourselves too good to commit a serious sin and hiding our serious faults behind religious practice. A Christian knows that “There but for the grace of God go I” is not just a catchphrase but profound truth, and a Christian always admits that they are a sinner in need of forgiveness. Do not be afraid to admit you have done wrong; do not defend your sins; do not be satisfied with who you are: allow God to forgive you; allow God to make you perfect.
July 7, 2011 - Thursday of the Fourteenth Week in Ordinary Time
Today's Readings
Joseph was treated unfairly. He was about 17 when he was sold into slavery by his own brothers. He spent the next 12 years as a slave and in prison. He spent the next 9 years running Egypt’s branch of the IRS. Then his brothers show up, needing his help. How many times did he think, over the course of the years as a slave and the years in prison about that day, about confronting his brothers?
He toyed with his brothers: frightening them, putting them in prison, demanding that they go back to Canaan and bring him Benjamin. Benjamin of course is not only his full brother, rather than his half-brother, but he also would have been too young and was not there when Joseph was sold. If we read into the story, it seems that Joseph’s plan was to keep Benjamin in Egypt and never tell anyone else who he really was.
As we see today though, when he is told that his father has been grieving for him, his father who he had not seen for 22 years, he is no longer able to control himself. He had wept before to see his brothers, but now he was overtaken by uncontrollable sobs. Why? Because he thought that his father had never searched for him, had not cared so much after all. Perhaps he waited those first few years of slavery in hopes that his father would come rescue him. By now he had given up on his father, when suddenly he finds out that his father has, all this time, been grieving for him, had thought him dead.
Joseph had been treated unjustly by his brothers, and, all things considered, he can only be commended for ignoring them rather than having them tortured and executed. Once he had used them to get his little brother Benjamin, he was going to let them go back home with no penalty. But Joseph had treated his father unjustly. Certainly for ten years, perhaps before that time, he had had the power to let his father know that he was okay, but he never did.
He had made an assumption about his father. He was correct in considering the unfairness, the wickedness of his older brothers (although he did not know that even one of them, Rueben, while guilty of some things, had been largely innocent), but he was wrong to include his father in his just anger against his brothers due to his incorrect assumptions.
Joseph is not unique in this aspect. Making quick judgments about people based on faulty assumptions is something we are all guilty of. Based on what seems like enough information, we think we know someone’s motivations or what they ought to have done. Then we make things worse by acting as if our judgments are Gospel truth when they are wrong.
Not every father is an innocent as Jacob, who mourned the death of his son for 22 years, and not every son is as guilty as Joseph, who did not let his father know where he was for those 22 years, but all of us have relationships which have been cut off because, like Joseph, we have made assumptions, or, like Jacob, assumptions have been made about us. Reconciliation can only come about through humility. When all the Jacobs and all the Josephs stop waiting for the other person to come halfway, but, leaving pride entirely aside, they allow for the assumptions and seek forgiveness.
June 20, 2011 - Monday of the Twelfth Week in Ordinary Time
Today's Readings
Jesus uses two images in the gospel today. The first is the image of the measure and the second is the image of the splinter. Both images are at the service of the command of Jesus: "Stop judging."
The measure can be considered in two ways. The measure with which we measure will be measured out to us, but what is in this measure? If we consider that it is a measuring cup full of judgment, then we want the measure to be as small as possible. However, if the measure is full of the opposite of judgment, then we will want to have the most generous measure ever.
What is the opposite of judging? Not judging, minding our own business. This is sometimes good advice for us, but we are God's business. Also, judgment comes naturally. We judge what we see and hear. We cannot get through life without making judgments, and God will judge all of us. What should we measure out to temper the judgment?
Perhaps indulgence. We see others doing what is objectively wrong, and we act as if what they are doing is not really so bad. This cannot be right though. God does not have once ounce of indulgence for sin.
Another possibility is allowance. We see someone do what is objectively wrong, and we allow for mitigating circumstances. I love playing the allowance game. When somebody is speeding irresponsibly down the road, I say, "Perhaps they are going to the hospital or to a life-changing appointment." This measure has the distinct advantage of truth. In truth, I do not know enough to judge. I simply insert a reasonable doubt. Allowance is a very important tool to prevent us from judging, but God cannot use it. He knows us through and through. He is never ignorant of our situation or circumstances.
So we should not measure out indulgence, and we should measure out allowance by the bucketful, but greater than allowance is mercy. Mercy is what Jesus is talking about. Mercy has manifold advantages. Mercy never denies that wrong is wrong. Mercy is useful even when a person is absolutely guilty, as we are absolutely guilty of sin.
What is mercy? Mercy is love. When we someone has done wrong, and we love them, we want to help them. If it is possible to help someone, without regard to how they have hurt us, we should. True love is not blind; true love looks with eagle eyes for some possibility of redemption. If we measure out mercy with a fire hose, we can never go wrong.
Forgiveness is pure mercy. We do not wait for someone to pay us back for how they have wronged us. We certainly never take revenge. If there is a glimmer of sorrow for sin, then we should forgive them all for the sake of the little sorrow. If there is not even a glimmer, we should forgive them all since they do not know what they are doing.
Jesus uses two images in the gospel today. The first is the image of the measure and the second is the image of the splinter. Both images are at the service of the command of Jesus: "Stop judging."
The measure can be considered in two ways. The measure with which we measure will be measured out to us, but what is in this measure? If we consider that it is a measuring cup full of judgment, then we want the measure to be as small as possible. However, if the measure is full of the opposite of judgment, then we will want to have the most generous measure ever.
What is the opposite of judging? Not judging, minding our own business. This is sometimes good advice for us, but we are God's business. Also, judgment comes naturally. We judge what we see and hear. We cannot get through life without making judgments, and God will judge all of us. What should we measure out to temper the judgment?
Perhaps indulgence. We see others doing what is objectively wrong, and we act as if what they are doing is not really so bad. This cannot be right though. God does not have once ounce of indulgence for sin.
Another possibility is allowance. We see someone do what is objectively wrong, and we allow for mitigating circumstances. I love playing the allowance game. When somebody is speeding irresponsibly down the road, I say, "Perhaps they are going to the hospital or to a life-changing appointment." This measure has the distinct advantage of truth. In truth, I do not know enough to judge. I simply insert a reasonable doubt. Allowance is a very important tool to prevent us from judging, but God cannot use it. He knows us through and through. He is never ignorant of our situation or circumstances.
So we should not measure out indulgence, and we should measure out allowance by the bucketful, but greater than allowance is mercy. Mercy is what Jesus is talking about. Mercy has manifold advantages. Mercy never denies that wrong is wrong. Mercy is useful even when a person is absolutely guilty, as we are absolutely guilty of sin.
What is mercy? Mercy is love. When we someone has done wrong, and we love them, we want to help them. If it is possible to help someone, without regard to how they have hurt us, we should. True love is not blind; true love looks with eagle eyes for some possibility of redemption. If we measure out mercy with a fire hose, we can never go wrong.
Forgiveness is pure mercy. We do not wait for someone to pay us back for how they have wronged us. We certainly never take revenge. If there is a glimmer of sorrow for sin, then we should forgive them all for the sake of the little sorrow. If there is not even a glimmer, we should forgive them all since they do not know what they are doing.
February 15, 2011 - Tuesday of the Sixth Week in Ordinary Time
Our first reading today is the story of Noah and the Ark. We will have more from this story tomorrow, but there is a preliminary comment to be made today. Many people regard this story as fanciful, as fictional. Many atheists spend considerable time trying to prove how ridiculous the idea is, bringing up facts like how much an elephant eats in a year. Then there are some Christians who work hard to prove that it is possible after all, calculating the food supply and many other such things. I am sure this can be an interesting task, and there are people who waste their time on sillier things, but we do not need to be defensive. Noah on the Ark is not like if you or I tried to do the same thing tomorrow in the middle of the lake. Noah was fulfilling God’s command. God does not command us to do something impossible without making it possible. Whether there is a way to arrange everything, or if God just made the food last by a miracle, there is no question that Noah’s Ark was possible. It was just as much God’s Ark. This is true of all the miracles of the Bible that seem impossible, unbelievable. Unless it was too much for God (and what is?) questioning whether it really happened is pointless.
Jesus makes a similar point today, not his first but his second. First he says, “Watch out, guard against the leaven of the Pharisees and the leaven of Herod.” Jesus is telling them to guard against two errors: on the one hand there are the self-righteous hypocrites and on the other there are the self-indulgent aristocrats. It is very difficult to walk the narrow path where we agree that sin is sin but do not spend our time judging others.
The disciples, however, misunderstand. They believe that Jesus is being literal and telling them not to buy bread from either of these two groups. Jesus sets aside his first point for the moment and points out to the disciples that even if there were a problem with bread, he would not be giving them shopping advice. The disciples are calculating how to feed a dozen people with one loaf of bread. Jesus says, “Forget about it. I am here. When I am here, there are not going to be any problems, least of all with bread. Haven’t you noticed what I can do?”
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