Revelation 18:1-2, 21-23; 19:1-3, 9
Psalm 100:1-5
Luke 21:20-28
The readings today are about destruction, above all the destruction of Babylon the great city and Jerusalem. The destruction of Jerusalem happened about 40 years after Jesus spoke about it. The destruction of Babylon is yet to come. There has been a great deal of speculation about what Babylon might be. If it refers to a particular country, America is a likely candidate. Babylon is known for its corporations and entrepreneurs: “Your merchants were the great ones of the world.” The culture of Babylon leads the other nations astray like sorcery.
This reading is either good news or bad news depending on whether our hope is in Babylon or in heaven. Those in heaven sing “Alleluia!” because of the destruction. Why? Because salvation, glory, and strength belong to our God. No technology will bring salvation. No amount of money will bring true glory or strength. If Babylon does not symbolize some particular nation, then it does symbolize the whole commercial aspect of our modern world. This is all going to be destroyed. The new earth will come without money or possessions. Some people will cry and faint as they see everything they have built in this world pass away.
We were not made for smartphones and cars and airplanes. I have some packages coming that I ordered this past weekend during the shopping days of Black Friday. I am sort of anxiously awaiting them. One of these days, they are going to show up at the door. It is sort of like Christmas, when the packages arrive and I get to unwrap them. We know what it is to wait for material goods, or to wait for a paycheck; how much more should we be waiting for Jesus! We need to have the perspective that Jesus talks about in the Gospel: our head raised up, looking at the sky. That is where our redemption will come from. One of these days the Son of Man will come on a cloud with power and great glory.
Material things only help us live in this difficult world, this valley of tears. When Jesus comes, and the time for all that has passed, when we can finally let go of all our possessions and throw away all of our money and watch the world pass away before our eyes, our response should not be sadness at the loss. Our response should be, “Finally!”
Showing posts with label Perspective. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Perspective. Show all posts
November 18, 2012 - Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time
Daniel 12:1-3
Psalm 16:5, 8-11
Hebrews 10:11-14, 18
Mark 13:24-32
God lives in eternity. He experiences everything at once and simultaneously acts upon everything. Every moment in time and every point in space is always equally present to God. Sort of like how an ant crawls along the ground and can only see an inch in front of itself, and we can see the whole yard, all at once. For God, the beginning of the universe and the end and this moment right now and Eve eating the fruit and Jesus dying on the Cross and Jesus rising from the dead and Jesus born in Bethlehem, are all happening right now.
It is impossible to imagine what that is like. We live in time and cannot imagine life without time. The closest we can come is the moment. We imagine one moment in time, and that is the closest we can come to imagining eternity. It is different, of course, because for us a moment takes place in a particular location and before we can really do anything, the moment has passed. We are limited; God is not. We have something more though. We have the present moment, the endless stream of moments. When we choose to patiently participate in the present moment we come as close to sharing in eternity as we can.
For a little while now, try to live completely in the present moment. Forget everything that has happened up to this point. Forget everything that will happen or that needs to happen. Forget how you got here today, and forget the balance in your bank account. For a little while, let go of everything you are trying to keep in balance. Like yesterday never happened, and tomorrow never will happen. Like this morning never happened, and this afternoon never will happen. As if you were created a second ago, fully-formed, here at Mass, without any plans or worries, nowhere to go afterward, nothing to do but to be here.
It is very difficult to maintain that experience of the present without “real life” creeping in from every side, though which is more real: that you are here now or what you might be doing an hour from now? But we cannot live our lives without doing something, and acting in the present moment requires remembering the past and thinking about the future. Our memory and our imagination allow us to imitate the unlimited nature of God in our limited way. Sitting here in Minnesota, we can remember and imagine all the other places in the world, and important things that have happened, and commitments that we have made. In order to decide what I should do right now, I have to think about what I want to be doing in an hour and in a year and in ten years. If I want to be eating dinner in an hour, then I have to start cooking.
To succeed at life, we always have to be thinking about where we want to be in the future and then act accordingly in the present. That is part of growing up. Only a child gets to live in the moment without considering the consequences or the planning how they will achieve their goals. As we grow up the times when we can live completely in the moment are fewer and fewer each year, until we retire and grow old and weaken, and begin living in the moment again. Hopefully, prayer is a time for each of you when you can live in the moment. Mass on Sunday and some time everyday when you can drop out of the world and imitate the eternity of God.
But prayer is also a time of remembering and planning. We remember all the people and situations that we need to pray for. We remember the mystery of Faith: how Christ died and rose again. And instead of planning where we will be in one year or even ten years, we think about where we will be in ten million years. “Many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake: some shall live forever, others shall be an everlasting horror and disgrace. But the wise shall shine brightly like the splendor of the sky.”
I was telling the Kindergarteners about what Jesus says in this Gospel. About how Jesus went up to Heaven but promised that someday, we “will see the Son of Man coming in the clouds with great power and glory.” How, one of these days, Jesus is going to come back down again. One of the kindergartners blurted out, “Jesus and God are real life?!” He had evidently heard all about Jesus, but the idea that he himself might someday be walking outside and see Jesus come down through the clouds was brand new.
I think a lot of people are in that situation. They know about Jesus, but they would still be surprised to see him coming down through the clouds. Every year around this time we read the promise of Jesus to come back someday, but do we act like we believe it? He left the time uncertain because we need it that way. If people in the past had known that he still would not be back in the year 2012, and if we knew that he will not be back for another thousand years, the urgency would be completely gone. As it is, he may very well come back this afternoon, for all we know.
The point is that, in every present moment, somewhere between figuring out how to get all the bills paid and deciding what to make for dinner tonight, we should leave a little corner of our mind for this promise, knowing that it could happen at any time. This truth, this promise, changes the calculus of everything. Sure, save for retirement, make sure that you have enough socked away, but, you know, Jesus might come between now and then. Work for that promotion, have a ten-year plan at work, but Jesus might come before you get there. Buy the groceries for Thanksgiving dinner, but Jesus might come on Wednesday. If he does, you will not need the groceries or the plans or the 401k. If he does, the only balances that will count for anything are the number of people in need whom we helped, the number of sinners whom we brought back to the faith, how many people we forgave and how sorry we are for our sins, and how much we love God. What is valuable now will be worthless then, and what is worthless now will be our only asset then.
Psalm 16:5, 8-11
Hebrews 10:11-14, 18
Mark 13:24-32
God lives in eternity. He experiences everything at once and simultaneously acts upon everything. Every moment in time and every point in space is always equally present to God. Sort of like how an ant crawls along the ground and can only see an inch in front of itself, and we can see the whole yard, all at once. For God, the beginning of the universe and the end and this moment right now and Eve eating the fruit and Jesus dying on the Cross and Jesus rising from the dead and Jesus born in Bethlehem, are all happening right now.
It is impossible to imagine what that is like. We live in time and cannot imagine life without time. The closest we can come is the moment. We imagine one moment in time, and that is the closest we can come to imagining eternity. It is different, of course, because for us a moment takes place in a particular location and before we can really do anything, the moment has passed. We are limited; God is not. We have something more though. We have the present moment, the endless stream of moments. When we choose to patiently participate in the present moment we come as close to sharing in eternity as we can.
For a little while now, try to live completely in the present moment. Forget everything that has happened up to this point. Forget everything that will happen or that needs to happen. Forget how you got here today, and forget the balance in your bank account. For a little while, let go of everything you are trying to keep in balance. Like yesterday never happened, and tomorrow never will happen. Like this morning never happened, and this afternoon never will happen. As if you were created a second ago, fully-formed, here at Mass, without any plans or worries, nowhere to go afterward, nothing to do but to be here.
It is very difficult to maintain that experience of the present without “real life” creeping in from every side, though which is more real: that you are here now or what you might be doing an hour from now? But we cannot live our lives without doing something, and acting in the present moment requires remembering the past and thinking about the future. Our memory and our imagination allow us to imitate the unlimited nature of God in our limited way. Sitting here in Minnesota, we can remember and imagine all the other places in the world, and important things that have happened, and commitments that we have made. In order to decide what I should do right now, I have to think about what I want to be doing in an hour and in a year and in ten years. If I want to be eating dinner in an hour, then I have to start cooking.
To succeed at life, we always have to be thinking about where we want to be in the future and then act accordingly in the present. That is part of growing up. Only a child gets to live in the moment without considering the consequences or the planning how they will achieve their goals. As we grow up the times when we can live completely in the moment are fewer and fewer each year, until we retire and grow old and weaken, and begin living in the moment again. Hopefully, prayer is a time for each of you when you can live in the moment. Mass on Sunday and some time everyday when you can drop out of the world and imitate the eternity of God.
But prayer is also a time of remembering and planning. We remember all the people and situations that we need to pray for. We remember the mystery of Faith: how Christ died and rose again. And instead of planning where we will be in one year or even ten years, we think about where we will be in ten million years. “Many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake: some shall live forever, others shall be an everlasting horror and disgrace. But the wise shall shine brightly like the splendor of the sky.”
I was telling the Kindergarteners about what Jesus says in this Gospel. About how Jesus went up to Heaven but promised that someday, we “will see the Son of Man coming in the clouds with great power and glory.” How, one of these days, Jesus is going to come back down again. One of the kindergartners blurted out, “Jesus and God are real life?!” He had evidently heard all about Jesus, but the idea that he himself might someday be walking outside and see Jesus come down through the clouds was brand new.
I think a lot of people are in that situation. They know about Jesus, but they would still be surprised to see him coming down through the clouds. Every year around this time we read the promise of Jesus to come back someday, but do we act like we believe it? He left the time uncertain because we need it that way. If people in the past had known that he still would not be back in the year 2012, and if we knew that he will not be back for another thousand years, the urgency would be completely gone. As it is, he may very well come back this afternoon, for all we know.
The point is that, in every present moment, somewhere between figuring out how to get all the bills paid and deciding what to make for dinner tonight, we should leave a little corner of our mind for this promise, knowing that it could happen at any time. This truth, this promise, changes the calculus of everything. Sure, save for retirement, make sure that you have enough socked away, but, you know, Jesus might come between now and then. Work for that promotion, have a ten-year plan at work, but Jesus might come before you get there. Buy the groceries for Thanksgiving dinner, but Jesus might come on Wednesday. If he does, you will not need the groceries or the plans or the 401k. If he does, the only balances that will count for anything are the number of people in need whom we helped, the number of sinners whom we brought back to the faith, how many people we forgave and how sorry we are for our sins, and how much we love God. What is valuable now will be worthless then, and what is worthless now will be our only asset then.
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.
October 1, 2012 - Monday of the Twenty-sixth Week in Ordinary Time
Job 1:6-22
Psalm 17:1-3, 6-7
Luke 9:46-50
The least among us is the greatest. Which leads to the questions: the least what? and the greatest what? The least wealthy among us are the greatest in need of our help. The least selfish among us are the greatest givers. The least powerful among us is in the greatest danger. This phrase cannot be absolutely true, since the least powerful among us are not always the greatest intellects and the least wealthy are not necessarily the greatest doers of good.
If we were to simply read it as, the least according to this world are the greatest according to the Kingdom of Heaven, we still have difficulties. How many saints have been kings like St. Louis or popes like Blessed John Paul II? Even someone like St. Therese of Lisieux, who tried to be a little as possible, was still not the least important person in the world. She was the novice master of her community, a position of some importance.
If we follow the logic of the gospel, we can discover something. Who is the greatest? God is the greatest. Who is the greatest man? Jesus Christ is the greatest man. He just said that whoever receives a child in his name receives him. In a certain sense, that child, who is among the least important of all, is the greatest, because, in a certain way of considering things, that child is Jesus Christ, just as you are Jesus Christ, and I am Jesus Christ. So we could translate the phrase: everyone, even the one who is least is (in a certain manner of speaking) the one who is the greatest: Jesus Christ.
When we see someone, whether on their throne in their castle or on the street corner in the city, it is possible to see Jesus Christ, if we know how to look. We do not look with our eyes but with love. To look with love at anyone created in the image and likeness of Jesus Christ, is to see Jesus Christ. Even if we cannot see it, whether because our eyesight is so dim or because the image is so obscured, we can, thanks to Jesus, know it. We can know that our waiter is Jesus Christ. We can know that the person driving next to us is Jesus Christ. We will begin to see Jesus, and opportunities to love Jesus, everywhere we look.
Psalm 17:1-3, 6-7
Luke 9:46-50
The least among us is the greatest. Which leads to the questions: the least what? and the greatest what? The least wealthy among us are the greatest in need of our help. The least selfish among us are the greatest givers. The least powerful among us is in the greatest danger. This phrase cannot be absolutely true, since the least powerful among us are not always the greatest intellects and the least wealthy are not necessarily the greatest doers of good.
If we were to simply read it as, the least according to this world are the greatest according to the Kingdom of Heaven, we still have difficulties. How many saints have been kings like St. Louis or popes like Blessed John Paul II? Even someone like St. Therese of Lisieux, who tried to be a little as possible, was still not the least important person in the world. She was the novice master of her community, a position of some importance.
If we follow the logic of the gospel, we can discover something. Who is the greatest? God is the greatest. Who is the greatest man? Jesus Christ is the greatest man. He just said that whoever receives a child in his name receives him. In a certain sense, that child, who is among the least important of all, is the greatest, because, in a certain way of considering things, that child is Jesus Christ, just as you are Jesus Christ, and I am Jesus Christ. So we could translate the phrase: everyone, even the one who is least is (in a certain manner of speaking) the one who is the greatest: Jesus Christ.
When we see someone, whether on their throne in their castle or on the street corner in the city, it is possible to see Jesus Christ, if we know how to look. We do not look with our eyes but with love. To look with love at anyone created in the image and likeness of Jesus Christ, is to see Jesus Christ. Even if we cannot see it, whether because our eyesight is so dim or because the image is so obscured, we can, thanks to Jesus, know it. We can know that our waiter is Jesus Christ. We can know that the person driving next to us is Jesus Christ. We will begin to see Jesus, and opportunities to love Jesus, everywhere we look.
June 7, 2012 - Thursday of the Ninth Week in Ordinary Time
2 Timothy 2:8-15
Psalm 25:4-5, 8-10, 14
Mark 12:28-34
Part of what is going on in this gospel reading is a little tug-of-war about who is testing who. The scribe asks the question as if he were testing Jesus; Jesus answers it with authority as if he were the teacher; the scribe approves of Jesus answer as if he were the teacher; then Jesus approves of the scribes approval, and he gets the last word. This is all clear to those watching this back-and-forth. Jesus is not only teaching the commandments, he is teaching the scribe that who the real teacher is. He is shifting his perspective.
In the second reading, St. Paul quotes a “saying”, whether it was a hymn or what we do not know, that contains four if-then statements. These statements are about looking at the universe in a way that is different than what we know, a shift in our perspective. The first statement is ““For if we died with him, we will also live with him.” This refers first of all to baptism, where, by going into the water, we die with Christ. It also refers to how we live. Dying with Christ is an everyday activity. We think that the more we enjoy the pleasures of the world, the happier we are, but this says “No, if you want to be happy then die.” The next statement reinforces this first one and takes it further: “If we endure, we will also reign with him.” Not merely live, which would be enough, but reign.
Then it says, “If we deny him, he also will deny us.” This is a foundation teaching of Christianity. Would it be possible for a Christian to deny Jesus in order to avoid trouble? The answer is no. Even if the enemy is at the door and they will kill you and your whole family, you must never deny Jesus. We would tell ourselves that it was only words, that we did not mean it, but if we love God above all things, then nothing is important enough to make us deny him.
Then the last statement, which is so profound and comforting: “If we are faithless, he remains faithful. He cannot deny himself.” If we do deny him whether in words or by sinning against him, we may doubt that we can be forgiven. What if God has given up on me? He has not. How do I know? He is the Faithful One, and nothing I do can change that.
Psalm 25:4-5, 8-10, 14
Mark 12:28-34
Part of what is going on in this gospel reading is a little tug-of-war about who is testing who. The scribe asks the question as if he were testing Jesus; Jesus answers it with authority as if he were the teacher; the scribe approves of Jesus answer as if he were the teacher; then Jesus approves of the scribes approval, and he gets the last word. This is all clear to those watching this back-and-forth. Jesus is not only teaching the commandments, he is teaching the scribe that who the real teacher is. He is shifting his perspective.
In the second reading, St. Paul quotes a “saying”, whether it was a hymn or what we do not know, that contains four if-then statements. These statements are about looking at the universe in a way that is different than what we know, a shift in our perspective. The first statement is ““For if we died with him, we will also live with him.” This refers first of all to baptism, where, by going into the water, we die with Christ. It also refers to how we live. Dying with Christ is an everyday activity. We think that the more we enjoy the pleasures of the world, the happier we are, but this says “No, if you want to be happy then die.” The next statement reinforces this first one and takes it further: “If we endure, we will also reign with him.” Not merely live, which would be enough, but reign.
Then it says, “If we deny him, he also will deny us.” This is a foundation teaching of Christianity. Would it be possible for a Christian to deny Jesus in order to avoid trouble? The answer is no. Even if the enemy is at the door and they will kill you and your whole family, you must never deny Jesus. We would tell ourselves that it was only words, that we did not mean it, but if we love God above all things, then nothing is important enough to make us deny him.
Then the last statement, which is so profound and comforting: “If we are faithless, he remains faithful. He cannot deny himself.” If we do deny him whether in words or by sinning against him, we may doubt that we can be forgiven. What if God has given up on me? He has not. How do I know? He is the Faithful One, and nothing I do can change that.
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