Zechariah 9.9-10
Psalm 145.1-2, 8-9, 10-11, 13-14 Resp. 1
Romans 8.9, 11-13
Matthew 11.25-30
If we are ever lost in reverie, looking up at the sky and thinking how nice it would be to live on a cloud, after a few seconds, perhaps even a minute, we look back at the earth at forget about clouds. Listening to the Gospels should not be like cloud appreciation. We should not hear the words of Jesus and think, “isn’t that such a nice idea”, and then go back to our daily drudgery. Jesus is making us an offer. He is making you an offer. He wants to make your life easier. Jesus says to you, “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.” Are you tired? Are you exhausted with life? Jesus tells us, “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart, and you will find rest for yourselves.” This is not a scam. He is not making up fluffy, useless religious sayings. This is real advice, for our benefit, which we ought to take seriously.
Our Lord is meek and humble of heart, and he wants us to learn from him because he sees that we labor and are burdened and we wants to give us rest. Although the labor and burdens of our daily work might be what first comes to our mind, it does not seem that Jesus is offering us rest from those. If he were, his solution seems insufficient. How could it help us to be meek and humble of heart? The meek and humble do not often have less work in this world; indeed they often have more, and more difficult, work.
If Jesus is not promising us rest from our work, he must be referring to other labor and burdens. If we learned to have a heart like Jesus, meek and humble, even though we would still have work to do each day, our load would lightened. The opposite of humility is pride. Pride must be the burden which Jesus is offering us relief from.
The suggestion that pride is weighing us down might offend us at first. A person might not think that they have so much pride, or perhaps they know someone with a great deal of pride who does not seem to be burdened. We should not worry though, for the moment, about other people and their pride. Let us just consider how pride has been burdening us.
Do you spend time worrying about what other people think of you? Are you worried that you have not accomplished enough in this life? Are you upset because someone else has taken credit for your ideas and your work? Do you lie awake at night thinking about how angry you are with someone you cannot forgive? Does it concern you that people misjudge you and misunderstand you? Do you feel like you deserve more material possessions in this life, at least as much as so-and-so has? Are you afraid that you are losing the rat race?
Those are a lot of burdens! Those, and many burdens like them, are the real burdens. If we could be rid of them, life would be much more bearable, no matter what labors we have in this world. “But wait,” you are perhaps saying to yourself, “you do not understand. I have a real grievance with the world. I have been treated unfairly. I have not been given what I deserve.” I do understand though. I do not doubt that every single person here has been treated unfairly and some people have been seriously misused, but I am not the one recommending humility and meekness; Jesus is, and he is the most abused person in the history of the world. Who has been treated as unfairly as he has?
He says that we should learn from him, that we should take his yoke upon us and learn from him. To teach a young ox how to plow, a farmer would yoke it up with an experienced ox. The experienced ox would know what to do and the young ox would be forced to come along and learn. Jesus offers us his credentials, “I am meek and humble of heart.” We need to let Jesus drag us around while we learn from him; we need to do whatever we see him doing.
What did Jesus do when the Samaritans would not let him walk through their town? He walked around. What did Jesus do when the Pharisees and Sadducees tried to trick him with questions? He answered them and taught them. What did Jesus do when they crowned him with thorns and spit on him? He picked up his Cross and carried it to where he would die. What did Jesus do in the end, after all the abuse and torture and completely unfair treatment? He asked the Father to forgive them since they did not know what they were doing.
Does this mean that we should allow others to treat us badly without complaining? Yes. This is just another reason why a religious vocation is better than a secular vocation: those who have vowed poverty, chastity, and obedience are free to lay down all the burdens of pride. Someone like Blessed Mother Teresa can find rest in the midst of exhausting work, terrible living conditions, and cruel accusations. Someone like St. Martin de Porres can go through life being treated like less than a human being.
St. Francis once said the following about perfect joy: “When we come to the monastery, soaked by the rain and frozen by the cold, all soiled with mud and suffering from hunger, and we ring at the gate of the place and the brother porter comes and says angrily: ‘Who are you?’ And we say: ‘We are two of your brothers.’ And he contradicts us, saying: ‘You are not telling the truth. Rather you are two rascals who go around deceiving people and stealing what they give to the poor. Go away’ And he does not open for us, but makes us stand outside in the snow and rain, cold and hungry, until night falls-then if we endure all those insults and cruel rebuffs patiently, without being troubled and without complaining, and if we reflect humbly and charitably that that porter really knows us and that God makes him speak against us, oh, Brother Leo, write that perfect joy is there!”
We who live in the world cannot experience this perfect joy always, the rest that Jesus offers. The world and the people of this world will try to take every advantage of us possible. We who live in the world will have to keep some burdens, so that society can continue to function. We will have to, at times, fight for our rights and the rights of others, but this responsibility should not prevent us from finding rest where we can by being humble and meek: letting others mistreat us, letting others take more than their share, working hard in this world without credit, forgiving those who do not even know that they wronged us.
Will we only hear the Gospel today or will we actually do what Jesus says?
Daily Homilies
Showing posts with label Sacrifice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sacrifice. Show all posts
January 23, 2014 - Thursday of the Second Week in Ordinary Time
1 Samuel 18:6-9; 19:1-7
Psalm 56:2-3, 9-13
Mark 3:7-12
How far Saul has come from the days when he used to chase after runaway donkeys! When Saul was named king, it was like winning the lottery, a completely unexpected windfall, but now that he has been king for a few years, he is ready to kill David at the mere suggestion of a threat to his dynasty. It is so easy to go from humble gratitude to presumptuous expectation.
Jonathan, meanwhile, grew up in the lap of luxury, such as it was 3000 years ago, yet he is not afraid. By all rights, he should be the next king. He grew up expecting to be king, and then David appears out of nowhere. But Jonathan did not hate David. In fact, he loved him. Because Jonathan did not have his father’s attachment to the royal throne, he was free to see David not as a threat but as a friend.
Consider us here today. We live like kings. We live better than kings. Who would give up central heating, indoor plumbing, cars, and cell phones for a stone castle? If somehow all of these disappeared, we would complain that we have been treated unfairly. How can a person live without these basic necessities? Yet people did live without them for millennia. Now that we have them, we cannot imagine giving them up. This is how Saul felt at the prospect of returning to the life of a simple farmer.
The things of this world can be tools or chains. If we use them as our servants, they will be tools. If we let our attachment to them cause us to be afraid at the thought of losing them, they will be chains. Whatever you are attached to: technology, position, getting ‘A’s, a television show, having a certain standard of wealth, a relationship with a person, whatever, do not let the attachment bind you.
Every sin is just an attachment that we refused to break. Be stronger than these attachments. Be free, radically free. There is no feeling of power like letting go. Every attachment screams: “You cannot live without me. You will never be happy if you leave me behind.” We know this is a lie. Our happiness does not exist in any of these things. Our happiness is in God. Be ready at all times to cut off an attachment that is preventing you from doing what you ought to do. Sacrifice everything, and be free to follow God.
Psalm 56:2-3, 9-13
Mark 3:7-12
How far Saul has come from the days when he used to chase after runaway donkeys! When Saul was named king, it was like winning the lottery, a completely unexpected windfall, but now that he has been king for a few years, he is ready to kill David at the mere suggestion of a threat to his dynasty. It is so easy to go from humble gratitude to presumptuous expectation.
Jonathan, meanwhile, grew up in the lap of luxury, such as it was 3000 years ago, yet he is not afraid. By all rights, he should be the next king. He grew up expecting to be king, and then David appears out of nowhere. But Jonathan did not hate David. In fact, he loved him. Because Jonathan did not have his father’s attachment to the royal throne, he was free to see David not as a threat but as a friend.
Consider us here today. We live like kings. We live better than kings. Who would give up central heating, indoor plumbing, cars, and cell phones for a stone castle? If somehow all of these disappeared, we would complain that we have been treated unfairly. How can a person live without these basic necessities? Yet people did live without them for millennia. Now that we have them, we cannot imagine giving them up. This is how Saul felt at the prospect of returning to the life of a simple farmer.
The things of this world can be tools or chains. If we use them as our servants, they will be tools. If we let our attachment to them cause us to be afraid at the thought of losing them, they will be chains. Whatever you are attached to: technology, position, getting ‘A’s, a television show, having a certain standard of wealth, a relationship with a person, whatever, do not let the attachment bind you.
Every sin is just an attachment that we refused to break. Be stronger than these attachments. Be free, radically free. There is no feeling of power like letting go. Every attachment screams: “You cannot live without me. You will never be happy if you leave me behind.” We know this is a lie. Our happiness does not exist in any of these things. Our happiness is in God. Be ready at all times to cut off an attachment that is preventing you from doing what you ought to do. Sacrifice everything, and be free to follow God.
May 24, 2013 - Friday of the Seventh Week in Ordinary Time
Sirach 6.5-17
Psalm 119.12,16,18,27,34,35
Mark 10.1-12
It is important to note two points about Jesus’ teaching today. First, his prohibition against divorce is based on remarriage. He is telling us that once a marriage has been created, only death will end it. “’Til death do us part” is not just romantic language but a reality. Even if, sometimes for very good reasons, two people stop living together, never see each other again, even get a judge to split up the property in a civil divorce, they are still married. Such a person may have done nothing wrong, particularly if they are seeing to the care of their children, but they are not able to marry another person. They are still married.
The second point Jesus mentions in another place: this does not apply to unlawful marriages. In other words, if a marriage never actually got started, then a person is not bound to what does not really exist. The classic case of this is the shotgun marriage, where two people are forced into marriage against their will. No one can be forced to get married. They might say all the words and sign in all the right places, but marriage requires two people entering the life of their own free will. It is for such cases that the Church has annulments. In an annulment, the Church investigates the wedding and makes sure that nothing happened which prevented the marriage from ever existing. An annulment never dissolves a marriage that is a sacrament.
When two people are married, they make a decision, but how that decision is understood is at the heart of many difficulties in our modern age. Marriage is not a non-binding contract. Jesus says, “What God has joined together, no human being must separate.” When two people agree to be married, they are asking God to join them in an indissoluble contract. As part of the benefits of the union, God will give them the grace to live together, in good times and bad, in sickness and in health, to live together and serve each other when a human agreement would not be enough. To give up one’s freedom and be bound to another, that is marriage. It is far more romantic. In the modern idea of marriage, nothing is sacrificed, nothing changes. In the true idea of marriage, the two become one flesh, the individuals no longer remain individual, a miracle only God can accomplish.
Psalm 119.12,16,18,27,34,35
Mark 10.1-12
It is important to note two points about Jesus’ teaching today. First, his prohibition against divorce is based on remarriage. He is telling us that once a marriage has been created, only death will end it. “’Til death do us part” is not just romantic language but a reality. Even if, sometimes for very good reasons, two people stop living together, never see each other again, even get a judge to split up the property in a civil divorce, they are still married. Such a person may have done nothing wrong, particularly if they are seeing to the care of their children, but they are not able to marry another person. They are still married.
The second point Jesus mentions in another place: this does not apply to unlawful marriages. In other words, if a marriage never actually got started, then a person is not bound to what does not really exist. The classic case of this is the shotgun marriage, where two people are forced into marriage against their will. No one can be forced to get married. They might say all the words and sign in all the right places, but marriage requires two people entering the life of their own free will. It is for such cases that the Church has annulments. In an annulment, the Church investigates the wedding and makes sure that nothing happened which prevented the marriage from ever existing. An annulment never dissolves a marriage that is a sacrament.
When two people are married, they make a decision, but how that decision is understood is at the heart of many difficulties in our modern age. Marriage is not a non-binding contract. Jesus says, “What God has joined together, no human being must separate.” When two people agree to be married, they are asking God to join them in an indissoluble contract. As part of the benefits of the union, God will give them the grace to live together, in good times and bad, in sickness and in health, to live together and serve each other when a human agreement would not be enough. To give up one’s freedom and be bound to another, that is marriage. It is far more romantic. In the modern idea of marriage, nothing is sacrificed, nothing changes. In the true idea of marriage, the two become one flesh, the individuals no longer remain individual, a miracle only God can accomplish.
September 16, 2012 - Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Isaiah 50:5-9
Psalm 116:1-6, 8-9
James 2:14-18
Mark 8:27-35
Zombies are very, very scary. I think zombies might be the scariest of all the monsters. Zombies are so scary because they seem like they are alive but then you realize that they are not. St. James is talking about zombies today. Zombie Christians. They seem like they have the new life of Christ. They sing the songs and say all the right words, but then you suddenly realize that their faith is dead. They are here among us. In truth, we are all of us in danger of becoming a zombie at any moment.
In the movies, zombies walk down the street moaning, “Braaaaaiiiiins!” That is not so distant from somebody wandering through life calling out “Muuuuhnneeey!” or “Viiiideo Gaaaaaaames!” or any of the other obsessions that people have in this world that make them oblivious to the needs of people around them. What good does it do anyone to believe that Jesus suffered and died for us if they spend every moment of their own life in self-indulgence? The Resurrection cannot be simply a bit of trivia in the mind of a Christian. When Jesus rose from the dead, that was an invitation for each one of us to rise from our dreary and dead purposeless lives to a new life where we forget ourselves and love other people. That is what it means to be alive in Christ.
How can we be fully alive? Jesus says, “Deny yourself.” Self-denial means learning to say “no” to ourself. The world does not understand why we should deny ourself anything. They think they feel most alive when they are without restriction. This is obviously false. If I eat without restriction until I weigh 1000 pounds, I am not fully alive. If I drink without restriction until I cannot control my actions, I am not fully alive. If I watch TV without restriction until I cannot go to sleep at night, I am not fully alive.
Is this what we say when we see someone in the throes of addiction: “Look how alive they are?” No, they look like a zombie. True freedom does not come when we throw away every restriction. True freedom comes when we cast off every chain holding us back, every time-wasting, money-wasting, effort-wasting, life-wasting chain holding us back. Addictions to food, pornography, the internet, television, alcohol, and drugs do not make a person free. When morality tells us that such and such a thing is wrong, it is simply saying that this thing will kill us or at least prevent us from being fully alive.
Time is the measure of life. Every day that we wake up, until the last, we have 24 hours to spend. To waste time, to kill time is to be a zombie. Some time we have to spend on ourselves: sleeping, eating, working, etc. This time is simply being used to sustain life. Every hour we spend on ourselves is in support of what we will do with the rest of the time. We put all this effort into keeping ourselves alive and educated and rested, so what are we going to do? If we deny our desire to simply kill the time, what will we do with it? What action could be so great that it is worth all the effort that we have to put into ourself? Anything less than love is an insufficient answer. If a person needs 23 hours a day to stay alive just so that each day they can love for 1 hour, they are fully alive. If a person needs 12 hours a day to stay alive and is just bored for the other 12 hours, they are a zombie. If we never get around to serving others, we are like plants that never flower.
Jesus says, “Take up your cross.” Sometimes, when people talk about this verse, they speak of our cross as our suffering. Anything from arthritis to disabilities to other people can be called “my cross”. This is a half-truth. The central mystery of the cross is not that Jesus suffered and died, but that he suffered and died for us. A cross is not whatever difficulties we happen to have in life. Everyone has difficulties; we have no choice about that. We take up the daily cross when we give our lives out of love for someone. Indeed any suffering we experience in life can be a cross, but only if we embrace it and offer it.
When we help someone, we, if only for a moment, deny our own importance and acknowledge their importance. When we help someone, we are giving our life, if only a small portion of it, for them. Perhaps this seems exaggerated to say that I gave my life to someone, but what is life other than a series of minutes? To give a few minutes to help someone is to give a little bit of your life for them. This is how we can imitate Jesus who gave his life for us.
The last part of what Jesus says is “Follow me.” To follow someone simply means to be with them wherever they go. Our way of being with God is prayer. As we converse with God, chains will bind our heart to him. Then, no matter where the world goes, we will stay close to him. As wonderful as spending our life helping others is, as indispensable as that is, it is not the highest use of our time. The greatest use of our life is spending time with God in prayer.
So this is what it means to be fully alive. We do not want to become zombies. We come to Mass and think ourselves as Christians, but the way of living that Jesus is calling us to is not exactly how we live. It is attractive, the idea of living in such a real way, but is it possible? That is what we have the Saints for. They are proof for us that it is possible to be fully alive. Of course we are going to sin, of course we are going to fail, of course we will be selfish and waste time. That is what Confession is for. But as long as we never give up but keep beginning again to live for others and follow God, there is a spark of life in us that someday, in this world or the next, will burst into flame. Why wait? Why not begin living the new life of Christ right now?
Psalm 116:1-6, 8-9
James 2:14-18
Mark 8:27-35
Zombies are very, very scary. I think zombies might be the scariest of all the monsters. Zombies are so scary because they seem like they are alive but then you realize that they are not. St. James is talking about zombies today. Zombie Christians. They seem like they have the new life of Christ. They sing the songs and say all the right words, but then you suddenly realize that their faith is dead. They are here among us. In truth, we are all of us in danger of becoming a zombie at any moment.
In the movies, zombies walk down the street moaning, “Braaaaaiiiiins!” That is not so distant from somebody wandering through life calling out “Muuuuhnneeey!” or “Viiiideo Gaaaaaaames!” or any of the other obsessions that people have in this world that make them oblivious to the needs of people around them. What good does it do anyone to believe that Jesus suffered and died for us if they spend every moment of their own life in self-indulgence? The Resurrection cannot be simply a bit of trivia in the mind of a Christian. When Jesus rose from the dead, that was an invitation for each one of us to rise from our dreary and dead purposeless lives to a new life where we forget ourselves and love other people. That is what it means to be alive in Christ.
How can we be fully alive? Jesus says, “Deny yourself.” Self-denial means learning to say “no” to ourself. The world does not understand why we should deny ourself anything. They think they feel most alive when they are without restriction. This is obviously false. If I eat without restriction until I weigh 1000 pounds, I am not fully alive. If I drink without restriction until I cannot control my actions, I am not fully alive. If I watch TV without restriction until I cannot go to sleep at night, I am not fully alive.
Is this what we say when we see someone in the throes of addiction: “Look how alive they are?” No, they look like a zombie. True freedom does not come when we throw away every restriction. True freedom comes when we cast off every chain holding us back, every time-wasting, money-wasting, effort-wasting, life-wasting chain holding us back. Addictions to food, pornography, the internet, television, alcohol, and drugs do not make a person free. When morality tells us that such and such a thing is wrong, it is simply saying that this thing will kill us or at least prevent us from being fully alive.
Time is the measure of life. Every day that we wake up, until the last, we have 24 hours to spend. To waste time, to kill time is to be a zombie. Some time we have to spend on ourselves: sleeping, eating, working, etc. This time is simply being used to sustain life. Every hour we spend on ourselves is in support of what we will do with the rest of the time. We put all this effort into keeping ourselves alive and educated and rested, so what are we going to do? If we deny our desire to simply kill the time, what will we do with it? What action could be so great that it is worth all the effort that we have to put into ourself? Anything less than love is an insufficient answer. If a person needs 23 hours a day to stay alive just so that each day they can love for 1 hour, they are fully alive. If a person needs 12 hours a day to stay alive and is just bored for the other 12 hours, they are a zombie. If we never get around to serving others, we are like plants that never flower.
Jesus says, “Take up your cross.” Sometimes, when people talk about this verse, they speak of our cross as our suffering. Anything from arthritis to disabilities to other people can be called “my cross”. This is a half-truth. The central mystery of the cross is not that Jesus suffered and died, but that he suffered and died for us. A cross is not whatever difficulties we happen to have in life. Everyone has difficulties; we have no choice about that. We take up the daily cross when we give our lives out of love for someone. Indeed any suffering we experience in life can be a cross, but only if we embrace it and offer it.
When we help someone, we, if only for a moment, deny our own importance and acknowledge their importance. When we help someone, we are giving our life, if only a small portion of it, for them. Perhaps this seems exaggerated to say that I gave my life to someone, but what is life other than a series of minutes? To give a few minutes to help someone is to give a little bit of your life for them. This is how we can imitate Jesus who gave his life for us.
The last part of what Jesus says is “Follow me.” To follow someone simply means to be with them wherever they go. Our way of being with God is prayer. As we converse with God, chains will bind our heart to him. Then, no matter where the world goes, we will stay close to him. As wonderful as spending our life helping others is, as indispensable as that is, it is not the highest use of our time. The greatest use of our life is spending time with God in prayer.
So this is what it means to be fully alive. We do not want to become zombies. We come to Mass and think ourselves as Christians, but the way of living that Jesus is calling us to is not exactly how we live. It is attractive, the idea of living in such a real way, but is it possible? That is what we have the Saints for. They are proof for us that it is possible to be fully alive. Of course we are going to sin, of course we are going to fail, of course we will be selfish and waste time. That is what Confession is for. But as long as we never give up but keep beginning again to live for others and follow God, there is a spark of life in us that someday, in this world or the next, will burst into flame. Why wait? Why not begin living the new life of Christ right now?
June 10, 2012 - The Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ
Exodus 24:3-8
Psalm 116:12-13, 15-18
Hebrews 9:11-15
Mark 14:12-16, 22-26
We celebrate that Jesus Christ gave us his Body and Blood. This gift has two primary and contradictory qualities. On the one hand, it is the ultimate gift, the highest sign of love, the proof that Jesus was not willing to hold anything back. Though rich, he did not take from what he had and present us a gift. He gave us himself. He had already given us a planet to live on and a universe to look at. We demanded more, which is partially because we are ungrateful, and partially because God had made us for more, he had made us for himself, so no gift less than himself would satisfy us.
And so he gave us himself. Using the sacramental signs of bread and wine, he gave us his body and blood. The gift was not imaginary or pretend. Using his power as creator of the universe, he declared that whenever one of his Apostles imitated his actions which they saw at the Last Supper, the ordinary bread and wine which was prayed over would become truly the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ. So it is that today we are in the presence of a man chosen by a successor of the Apostles to continue this sacramental action. We have ordinary bread and ordinary wine, but soon it will not be bread and it will not be wine. It will look and taste and otherwise seem like bread and wine, but things will not be what they seem. They will be the greatest gift we have ever received: God himself: Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity.
On the other hand, this gift is repulsive. It is the body and blood of a man. We do not eat human flesh! We will not drink human blood! Such things are repulsive to us. To treat a human being, a person like us, as if they were no more than a meal for us is the ultimate moral depravity. What do we Christians sound like to others? “Unless you eat the flesh and drink the blood of the Son of Man you do not have life within you.” If we heard someone say that, without knowing that it was Jesus, we would be sure that it was the ravings of an insane person.
We must not pass over this element because, if we do, we risk a weak faith in something that we will not look at directly. Many people, because of this factor, consider the Eucharist to be a strange symbol. For them it is just bread and wine, nothing more. And it does not even symbolize the Body and Blood of Christ, because to imagine human flesh and blood would be absurd to them. The Eucharist just becomes a symbol of acceptance. To refuse the Eucharist to someone is an act of the highest offense, equivalent to spitting in their face. So anyone who limits Communion is bad, because it is a piece of bread that symbolizes love, so to refuse it must mean that they hate the other person. So a priest is called very pastoral when he tells everyone to come receive Communion. So there was that Protestant minister who gave communion to a dog. He said that the dog seemed to really want it.
The Eucharist is not a piece of bread that symbolizes love. It is human flesh that symbolizes love. To invite someone to Communion is not to say, “I think you’re pretty good too.” It is to ask, “Will you eat this human body and drink his blood with me?” If someone asked you that question, how would you respond? You would be horrified. So we are afraid to ask it. They will think we are monsters. Until they find out that it is just bread and wine. Then they will say, “Oh what you said was just pretend.” But why would we pretend such a thing? If the reality is horrific, how could it be good to pretend?
We are going to eat a man’s flesh and drink his blood. We gather daily and weekly to repeat this action. Jesus said to do it in memory of him, but what a way to remember somebody! The author of Hebrews says that Jesus was carrying his blood like a priest of the old covenant carried the blood of the bulls and goats. In the first reading, we see Moses sprinkle the blood of bulls and goats all over the people like a priest sprinkles water sometimes these days. It is easy to believe that the blood of Jesus is greater than the blood of cattle, but why sprinkle blood at all? Because blood is life. A cow or goat might be bought or sold, but its life is without price. We cannot beat death; we can only delay sometimes. From the moment of conception we are destined to die. Without life, nothing else matters for us. The blood of the sacrifice was the life. The Israelites painted it on their door frames and sprinkled the people with it; they poured it out at the base of the altar and put some on the priests’ ear, thumb, and big toe, but all this was only a symbol of the blood that was coming.
The Body and Blood we receive is alive. Jesus rose from the dead, so his Body and Blood are alive. When we eat his flesh and drink his blood, his life is in us. We are marked with his death and his life. We eat his Body and drink his Blood in memory of him, not merely a memory in the imagination but of participation. When we eat his body and drink his blood, we die on the Cross with him and rise with him. The Eucharist changes us and nothing else could change us in this way. Because we have eaten the Body and Blood, and this Body and Blood has become our Body and Blood, we can say that we have died on the Cross and risen.
To receive the Body of Christ is a privilege beyond any other but it is also a fearful mystery. We hold in our hands the Body and Blood of a man who is God, and we eat it because he told us to. Above all the Eucharist teaches us that our life comes from God. We cannot hold onto it forever, so we must constantly receive life from God. We cannot take the life from him and then go off on our own, the way the prodigal son did. We can never sever the connection between God and us and become independent, the way Adam tried to with the fruit. All food is life for us. That is the purpose of eating. But every other meal is a symbol of this meal by which we receive life directly from God.
Psalm 116:12-13, 15-18
Hebrews 9:11-15
Mark 14:12-16, 22-26
We celebrate that Jesus Christ gave us his Body and Blood. This gift has two primary and contradictory qualities. On the one hand, it is the ultimate gift, the highest sign of love, the proof that Jesus was not willing to hold anything back. Though rich, he did not take from what he had and present us a gift. He gave us himself. He had already given us a planet to live on and a universe to look at. We demanded more, which is partially because we are ungrateful, and partially because God had made us for more, he had made us for himself, so no gift less than himself would satisfy us.
And so he gave us himself. Using the sacramental signs of bread and wine, he gave us his body and blood. The gift was not imaginary or pretend. Using his power as creator of the universe, he declared that whenever one of his Apostles imitated his actions which they saw at the Last Supper, the ordinary bread and wine which was prayed over would become truly the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ. So it is that today we are in the presence of a man chosen by a successor of the Apostles to continue this sacramental action. We have ordinary bread and ordinary wine, but soon it will not be bread and it will not be wine. It will look and taste and otherwise seem like bread and wine, but things will not be what they seem. They will be the greatest gift we have ever received: God himself: Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity.
On the other hand, this gift is repulsive. It is the body and blood of a man. We do not eat human flesh! We will not drink human blood! Such things are repulsive to us. To treat a human being, a person like us, as if they were no more than a meal for us is the ultimate moral depravity. What do we Christians sound like to others? “Unless you eat the flesh and drink the blood of the Son of Man you do not have life within you.” If we heard someone say that, without knowing that it was Jesus, we would be sure that it was the ravings of an insane person.
We must not pass over this element because, if we do, we risk a weak faith in something that we will not look at directly. Many people, because of this factor, consider the Eucharist to be a strange symbol. For them it is just bread and wine, nothing more. And it does not even symbolize the Body and Blood of Christ, because to imagine human flesh and blood would be absurd to them. The Eucharist just becomes a symbol of acceptance. To refuse the Eucharist to someone is an act of the highest offense, equivalent to spitting in their face. So anyone who limits Communion is bad, because it is a piece of bread that symbolizes love, so to refuse it must mean that they hate the other person. So a priest is called very pastoral when he tells everyone to come receive Communion. So there was that Protestant minister who gave communion to a dog. He said that the dog seemed to really want it.
The Eucharist is not a piece of bread that symbolizes love. It is human flesh that symbolizes love. To invite someone to Communion is not to say, “I think you’re pretty good too.” It is to ask, “Will you eat this human body and drink his blood with me?” If someone asked you that question, how would you respond? You would be horrified. So we are afraid to ask it. They will think we are monsters. Until they find out that it is just bread and wine. Then they will say, “Oh what you said was just pretend.” But why would we pretend such a thing? If the reality is horrific, how could it be good to pretend?
We are going to eat a man’s flesh and drink his blood. We gather daily and weekly to repeat this action. Jesus said to do it in memory of him, but what a way to remember somebody! The author of Hebrews says that Jesus was carrying his blood like a priest of the old covenant carried the blood of the bulls and goats. In the first reading, we see Moses sprinkle the blood of bulls and goats all over the people like a priest sprinkles water sometimes these days. It is easy to believe that the blood of Jesus is greater than the blood of cattle, but why sprinkle blood at all? Because blood is life. A cow or goat might be bought or sold, but its life is without price. We cannot beat death; we can only delay sometimes. From the moment of conception we are destined to die. Without life, nothing else matters for us. The blood of the sacrifice was the life. The Israelites painted it on their door frames and sprinkled the people with it; they poured it out at the base of the altar and put some on the priests’ ear, thumb, and big toe, but all this was only a symbol of the blood that was coming.
The Body and Blood we receive is alive. Jesus rose from the dead, so his Body and Blood are alive. When we eat his flesh and drink his blood, his life is in us. We are marked with his death and his life. We eat his Body and drink his Blood in memory of him, not merely a memory in the imagination but of participation. When we eat his body and drink his blood, we die on the Cross with him and rise with him. The Eucharist changes us and nothing else could change us in this way. Because we have eaten the Body and Blood, and this Body and Blood has become our Body and Blood, we can say that we have died on the Cross and risen.
To receive the Body of Christ is a privilege beyond any other but it is also a fearful mystery. We hold in our hands the Body and Blood of a man who is God, and we eat it because he told us to. Above all the Eucharist teaches us that our life comes from God. We cannot hold onto it forever, so we must constantly receive life from God. We cannot take the life from him and then go off on our own, the way the prodigal son did. We can never sever the connection between God and us and become independent, the way Adam tried to with the fruit. All food is life for us. That is the purpose of eating. But every other meal is a symbol of this meal by which we receive life directly from God.
April 5, 2012 - Holy Thursday, Evening Mass of the Lord’s Supper
Today's Readings
Tonight we recall how, on the night before his death, our Lord chose to eat a meal with his disciples. It was not an ordinary meal. It probably would have looked ordinary to the uninitiated: bread and wine, yet we know that the bread was his body and the wine was his blood. We know this because he said so, and he is the truth, and he cannot lie. “The Lord Jesus, on the night he was handed over, took bread, and, after he had given thanks, broke it and said, “This is my body that is for you.”
In the ancient law, the father of each family had to provide a lamb. This lamb was killed, and it became a sacrifice which prevented the angel of death from striking within that house. Under the new law, our Father in heaven has provided a lamb, the Lamb of God. If a family was not big enough for one lamb, two families came together and shared a lamb. The Lamb of God is sufficient for the whole world. This Lamb became a sacrifice which takes away the sins of the world. Because this Lamb still lives, even though he died, we will never need another. We are marked by the blood of this lamb, so death can pass over us. There is no reason to fear death so long as we have participated in this sacrifice. By this sacrifice we join in the death of Jesus Christ, so we have a sure hope of joining in his Resurrection.
Jesus is the Lamb of God, but this sacrifice was different than the sacrifice of the lambs. Soon after the meal, the disciples saw Jesus give his body and blood for the whole world. The lambs were eaten after they were killed, but Jesus was not constrained by time. Even before the sacrifice, he was able to present his body and blood. The body and blood that he presented to them is clearly the body and blood that he offered the next day; it is clearly the body and blood that rose from the dead on Easter. It is his Body and Blood. This bread and this cup are a participation in the death of Christ, “for as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes.”
Jesus is the Lamb of God, but this sacrifice was different than the sacrifice of the lambs. The Israelites ate the body of the lamb, but they did not drink the blood. God had said that the blood of an animal is the life of that animal, so he forbid them from drinking blood. The life of an animal belonged to God, so the blood was poured out on the altar. In this sacrifice, we drink the blood because the life of Christ was poured out for us. The lifeblood of Christ belongs to us, since he has given it to us. Some of the lambs’ blood was used to mark the doorway as a symbol that the angel of death should pass over that house. So now we drink the blood of the Lamb of God so that this blood will mark our souls.
“A person should examine themself, and so eat the bread and drink the cup, for anyone who eats and drinks without discerning the body, eats and drinks judgment on themself.” What we receive is not ordinary food. It is a real symbol, which is to say that it actually is what it symbolizes. It symbolizes the Body of Jesus Christ, so it actually is the Body of Jesus Christ. It symbolizes the Blood of Jesus Christ, so it actually is the Blood of Jesus Christ. By eating and drinking this Body and Blood, we symbolize our participation in the death of Jesus Christ, so we actually participate in his death.
Let no one be deceived and believe that it is your own thoughts or your own faith which makes the bread and wine into the Body and Blood. It is only the words of Jesus: “This is my Body.” “This is the cup of my Blood.”, spoken by one who has the authority to say the words, an authority that comes from the Apostles to whom Jesus said: “Do this in memory of me.” So let us examine ourselves and not eat and drink judgment on ourselves. We must receive the Body and Blood with faith, not because our faith makes it so, but because it is so and we should only receive if we believe.
When you are invited to dinner, consider carefully before you eat because you must provide the same sort of meal yourself in return. When we sit down to this sacrificial meal, we ought to consider carefully what is set before us, since we must provide the same kind of meal ourselves. When we eat the Body of Christ, we become willing to give up our own bodies. When we drink the Blood of Christ, we become willing to shed our own blood. When we eat this body and drink this blood, we proclaim his death until he comes in glory. This is not a verbal proclamation but proclamation of action. Truly, we proclaim his death when we eat the body and drink the blood which he gave up for us through his death, but this should not be the limit of our proclamation; it should be the beginning and the end, the source and the summit.
We are what we eat. If we eat the proclamation of the death of Christ, we must become the proclamation of the death of Christ. At the Last Supper, Jesus washed the feet of his disciples and told them, “I have given you a model to follow, so that as I have done for you, you should also do.” The washing of feet is a symbol. Everything that Jesus did for us, we are called to do for our brothers. Did he serve us? Then we should serve others. Did he love us? Then we should love others. Did he forgive us? Then we should forgive others. Did he die for us? Then we should die for others. Did he give us his body and blood? Then we should give our bodies and our blood for others.
We are what we eat. If we eat the Body of Christ, we become the Body of Christ. Someone here is the hand of Christ. Someone here is the feet of Christ. Someone here is the heart of Christ, beating with love. Together we are the Body of Christ, with Jesus Christ as our head. If we eat this body and drink this blood, anything we do, Christ does, since we are part of the Body of Christ. If we eat this body and drink this blood, we must act in a manner worthy of our call. If we eat this body and then sin, we have brought sin upon the Body of Christ. If we drink this blood and then hate someone, we have brought hatred into the Blood of Christ. No longer is any sin a small sin. No longer is any sin a private failing. If we have chosen to be part of the Body of Christ, we must also choose to be perfect. When we fall short of perfection, we must confess our sins and be forgiven.
Our Lord Jesus Christ borrowed from us humanity and took it to himself. Tonight he gives it back to us. If we participate in his humanity, entirely, we will be saved. His humanity is a life preserver thrown from heaven to us who are drowning. We must cling to it. There is nothing here on earth that can save us; we cannot save ourselves. We are saved not by imitation but by participation. If you try to be like Christ, you will fail. We must participate in his Body, by eating his Body and drinking his Blood. Then we will participate in the life of Christ, a life of service and self-giving. Then we can participate in the death of Christ, a perfect sacrifice. And only then can we participate in the Resurrection of Christ.
Tonight we recall how, on the night before his death, our Lord chose to eat a meal with his disciples. It was not an ordinary meal. It probably would have looked ordinary to the uninitiated: bread and wine, yet we know that the bread was his body and the wine was his blood. We know this because he said so, and he is the truth, and he cannot lie. “The Lord Jesus, on the night he was handed over, took bread, and, after he had given thanks, broke it and said, “This is my body that is for you.”
In the ancient law, the father of each family had to provide a lamb. This lamb was killed, and it became a sacrifice which prevented the angel of death from striking within that house. Under the new law, our Father in heaven has provided a lamb, the Lamb of God. If a family was not big enough for one lamb, two families came together and shared a lamb. The Lamb of God is sufficient for the whole world. This Lamb became a sacrifice which takes away the sins of the world. Because this Lamb still lives, even though he died, we will never need another. We are marked by the blood of this lamb, so death can pass over us. There is no reason to fear death so long as we have participated in this sacrifice. By this sacrifice we join in the death of Jesus Christ, so we have a sure hope of joining in his Resurrection.
Jesus is the Lamb of God, but this sacrifice was different than the sacrifice of the lambs. Soon after the meal, the disciples saw Jesus give his body and blood for the whole world. The lambs were eaten after they were killed, but Jesus was not constrained by time. Even before the sacrifice, he was able to present his body and blood. The body and blood that he presented to them is clearly the body and blood that he offered the next day; it is clearly the body and blood that rose from the dead on Easter. It is his Body and Blood. This bread and this cup are a participation in the death of Christ, “for as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes.”
Jesus is the Lamb of God, but this sacrifice was different than the sacrifice of the lambs. The Israelites ate the body of the lamb, but they did not drink the blood. God had said that the blood of an animal is the life of that animal, so he forbid them from drinking blood. The life of an animal belonged to God, so the blood was poured out on the altar. In this sacrifice, we drink the blood because the life of Christ was poured out for us. The lifeblood of Christ belongs to us, since he has given it to us. Some of the lambs’ blood was used to mark the doorway as a symbol that the angel of death should pass over that house. So now we drink the blood of the Lamb of God so that this blood will mark our souls.
“A person should examine themself, and so eat the bread and drink the cup, for anyone who eats and drinks without discerning the body, eats and drinks judgment on themself.” What we receive is not ordinary food. It is a real symbol, which is to say that it actually is what it symbolizes. It symbolizes the Body of Jesus Christ, so it actually is the Body of Jesus Christ. It symbolizes the Blood of Jesus Christ, so it actually is the Blood of Jesus Christ. By eating and drinking this Body and Blood, we symbolize our participation in the death of Jesus Christ, so we actually participate in his death.
Let no one be deceived and believe that it is your own thoughts or your own faith which makes the bread and wine into the Body and Blood. It is only the words of Jesus: “This is my Body.” “This is the cup of my Blood.”, spoken by one who has the authority to say the words, an authority that comes from the Apostles to whom Jesus said: “Do this in memory of me.” So let us examine ourselves and not eat and drink judgment on ourselves. We must receive the Body and Blood with faith, not because our faith makes it so, but because it is so and we should only receive if we believe.
When you are invited to dinner, consider carefully before you eat because you must provide the same sort of meal yourself in return. When we sit down to this sacrificial meal, we ought to consider carefully what is set before us, since we must provide the same kind of meal ourselves. When we eat the Body of Christ, we become willing to give up our own bodies. When we drink the Blood of Christ, we become willing to shed our own blood. When we eat this body and drink this blood, we proclaim his death until he comes in glory. This is not a verbal proclamation but proclamation of action. Truly, we proclaim his death when we eat the body and drink the blood which he gave up for us through his death, but this should not be the limit of our proclamation; it should be the beginning and the end, the source and the summit.
We are what we eat. If we eat the proclamation of the death of Christ, we must become the proclamation of the death of Christ. At the Last Supper, Jesus washed the feet of his disciples and told them, “I have given you a model to follow, so that as I have done for you, you should also do.” The washing of feet is a symbol. Everything that Jesus did for us, we are called to do for our brothers. Did he serve us? Then we should serve others. Did he love us? Then we should love others. Did he forgive us? Then we should forgive others. Did he die for us? Then we should die for others. Did he give us his body and blood? Then we should give our bodies and our blood for others.
We are what we eat. If we eat the Body of Christ, we become the Body of Christ. Someone here is the hand of Christ. Someone here is the feet of Christ. Someone here is the heart of Christ, beating with love. Together we are the Body of Christ, with Jesus Christ as our head. If we eat this body and drink this blood, anything we do, Christ does, since we are part of the Body of Christ. If we eat this body and drink this blood, we must act in a manner worthy of our call. If we eat this body and then sin, we have brought sin upon the Body of Christ. If we drink this blood and then hate someone, we have brought hatred into the Blood of Christ. No longer is any sin a small sin. No longer is any sin a private failing. If we have chosen to be part of the Body of Christ, we must also choose to be perfect. When we fall short of perfection, we must confess our sins and be forgiven.
Our Lord Jesus Christ borrowed from us humanity and took it to himself. Tonight he gives it back to us. If we participate in his humanity, entirely, we will be saved. His humanity is a life preserver thrown from heaven to us who are drowning. We must cling to it. There is nothing here on earth that can save us; we cannot save ourselves. We are saved not by imitation but by participation. If you try to be like Christ, you will fail. We must participate in his Body, by eating his Body and drinking his Blood. Then we will participate in the life of Christ, a life of service and self-giving. Then we can participate in the death of Christ, a perfect sacrifice. And only then can we participate in the Resurrection of Christ.
January 19, 2012 - Thursday of the Second Week in Ordinary Time
Today's Readings
How far Saul has come from the days when he used to chase after runaway donkeys! When Saul was named king, it was like winning the lottery, a completely unexpected windfall, but now that he has been king for a few years, he is ready to kill David at the mere suggestion of a threat to his dynasty. It is so easy to go from humble gratitude to expectation.
Jonathan, meanwhile, who grew up in the lap of luxury, such as it was 3000 years ago, yet he is not afraid. By all rights, he should be the next king. He grew up expecting to be king, and then David appears out of nowhere. But Jonathan did not hate David. In fact, he loved him. Because Jonathan did not have his father’s attachment to the royal throne, he was free to see David not as a threat but as a friend.
Consider us here today. We live like kings. We live better than kings. Who would give up central heating, indoor plumbing, cars, and cell phones for a stone castle? If somehow all of these disappeared, we would complain that we have been treated unfairly. How can a person live without these basic necessities? Yet people did live without them for millennia. Now that we have them, we cannot imagine giving them up. This is how Saul felt at the prospect of returning to the life of a simple farmer.
The things of this world can be tools or chains. If we use them as our servants, they will be tools. If we let our attachment to them cause us to be afraid at the thought of losing them, they will be chains. Whatever you are attached to: technology, position, getting ‘A’s, a television show, having a certain standard of wealth, a relationship with a person, whatever, do not let the attachment bind you.
What motive lies behind every sin? An attachment that we refused to break. Be stronger than these attachments. Be free, radically free. There is no feeling of power like letting go. Every attachment screams: “You cannot live without me. You will never be happy if you leave me behind.” We know this is a lie. Our happiness does not exist in any of these things. Our happiness is in God. Be ready at all times to cut off an attachment that is preventing you from doing what you ought to do. Sacrifice everything, but be free to follow God.
How far Saul has come from the days when he used to chase after runaway donkeys! When Saul was named king, it was like winning the lottery, a completely unexpected windfall, but now that he has been king for a few years, he is ready to kill David at the mere suggestion of a threat to his dynasty. It is so easy to go from humble gratitude to expectation.
Jonathan, meanwhile, who grew up in the lap of luxury, such as it was 3000 years ago, yet he is not afraid. By all rights, he should be the next king. He grew up expecting to be king, and then David appears out of nowhere. But Jonathan did not hate David. In fact, he loved him. Because Jonathan did not have his father’s attachment to the royal throne, he was free to see David not as a threat but as a friend.
Consider us here today. We live like kings. We live better than kings. Who would give up central heating, indoor plumbing, cars, and cell phones for a stone castle? If somehow all of these disappeared, we would complain that we have been treated unfairly. How can a person live without these basic necessities? Yet people did live without them for millennia. Now that we have them, we cannot imagine giving them up. This is how Saul felt at the prospect of returning to the life of a simple farmer.
The things of this world can be tools or chains. If we use them as our servants, they will be tools. If we let our attachment to them cause us to be afraid at the thought of losing them, they will be chains. Whatever you are attached to: technology, position, getting ‘A’s, a television show, having a certain standard of wealth, a relationship with a person, whatever, do not let the attachment bind you.
What motive lies behind every sin? An attachment that we refused to break. Be stronger than these attachments. Be free, radically free. There is no feeling of power like letting go. Every attachment screams: “You cannot live without me. You will never be happy if you leave me behind.” We know this is a lie. Our happiness does not exist in any of these things. Our happiness is in God. Be ready at all times to cut off an attachment that is preventing you from doing what you ought to do. Sacrifice everything, but be free to follow God.
November 4, 2011 - Memorial of Saint Charles Borromeo, bishop
Today's Readings
St. Paul has a very good analogy for the spiritual life, in another reading, where he compares it to athletics. If only we could train and deny ourselves and strive like athletes, who do all these things just to win a gold medal, then we would be doing very well as Christians. If any Christian claims that the life demanded of us is too demanding, let them look at the 8 year old girl who is putting in 6 hours a day in the gym. If any Christian thinks that a little fasting during Lent is too hard, let them see how athletes eat. It is a very good point. The possibility for greatness lies within us, but will we use it?
Jesus makes the same point today with another analogy: consider how hard some people work to get rich. Consider the small business owner who is their only employee and works 18 hour days, who stays up all night making sure that the deliveries are sent out, who goes to bed each night thinking about how they could improve the inventory system and jumps out of bed each morning to open the store. The children of this age are wiser than the children of light when it comes to business.
Imagine if we worked as hard at being Christian as the average athlete with their sights set on the Olympics. Imagine if we worked as hard at growing our spiritual life as the average small business owner works at growing their market share. Whether in athletics or in business or in scientific achievement or in politics, men and women are right this moment working harder and smarter and better than most Christians will ever work at Christianity. A person would expect that since our reward is so much greater, our effort would be too, but instead we seem to hope that a little effort will be enough.
Maybe a little effort will be enough. Maybe God will let nearly everyone into Heaven after time in Purgatory. I do not know. But athletes do not say that they are "fast enough" and business owners do not say that they are "successful enough". If someone does, they are not the kind of person I am talking about. Let us not be good enough. Let us be excellent! Let us compete with each other to see who can love the most, believe the best, hope the strongest, and be the most humble.
St. Paul has a very good analogy for the spiritual life, in another reading, where he compares it to athletics. If only we could train and deny ourselves and strive like athletes, who do all these things just to win a gold medal, then we would be doing very well as Christians. If any Christian claims that the life demanded of us is too demanding, let them look at the 8 year old girl who is putting in 6 hours a day in the gym. If any Christian thinks that a little fasting during Lent is too hard, let them see how athletes eat. It is a very good point. The possibility for greatness lies within us, but will we use it?
Jesus makes the same point today with another analogy: consider how hard some people work to get rich. Consider the small business owner who is their only employee and works 18 hour days, who stays up all night making sure that the deliveries are sent out, who goes to bed each night thinking about how they could improve the inventory system and jumps out of bed each morning to open the store. The children of this age are wiser than the children of light when it comes to business.
Imagine if we worked as hard at being Christian as the average athlete with their sights set on the Olympics. Imagine if we worked as hard at growing our spiritual life as the average small business owner works at growing their market share. Whether in athletics or in business or in scientific achievement or in politics, men and women are right this moment working harder and smarter and better than most Christians will ever work at Christianity. A person would expect that since our reward is so much greater, our effort would be too, but instead we seem to hope that a little effort will be enough.
Maybe a little effort will be enough. Maybe God will let nearly everyone into Heaven after time in Purgatory. I do not know. But athletes do not say that they are "fast enough" and business owners do not say that they are "successful enough". If someone does, they are not the kind of person I am talking about. Let us not be good enough. Let us be excellent! Let us compete with each other to see who can love the most, believe the best, hope the strongest, and be the most humble.
September 22, 2011 - Thursday of the Twenty-Fifth Week in Ordinary Time
Today's Readings
Abraham Maslow is famous for his theory of the Hierarchy of Needs. The basic idea is that before a person can worry about things like self-esteem or having a nice job, they must have things like breathing and eating taken care of. This theory has some truth to it, but we also know that we rational human beings are not ruled by our needs. We may decide to put off eating in order to get an important project done at work, and there are many reasons why we might hold our breath. People can even choose to die for a righteous cause.
Our readings today show us how religion fits into our hierarchy of needs. The Jews in our first reading are not hostile to religion; indeed, they would be described as very religious, but when they returned from exile, they decided to take care of their basic needs first. They put off building the temple until they had built their homes and planted crops and saved up a little money. They kept putting off building the temple, until 20 years had passed since they returned from exile. Still the people were saying, “The time has not yet come to rebuild the house of the Lord.”
Would the time ever come? Would there ever be a time when everything was perfect: lots of money and peace and security? No. We cannot always wait until conditions are optimal before we begin building. Good enough has to be good enough. When our ancestors built this church, they had not satisfied every worldly desire first. Each of us has a temple to build in our lives. We build it by going to Mass and praying and works of mercy and fasting and giving alms. If we put off any of this until we are comfortable in the world, we will never get this temple built.
If we delay serving the poor until we have extra time, we will never serve the poor. If we delay giving money to the Church until we have extra money, we will never support the Church. If we delay praying until we are done with whatever else we wanted to do, we will never pray. Air, food, and water are good things, but religion has to be our first priority. When praying is as important as breathing, when fasting is as important as eating, then we will have conquered this world.
Abraham Maslow is famous for his theory of the Hierarchy of Needs. The basic idea is that before a person can worry about things like self-esteem or having a nice job, they must have things like breathing and eating taken care of. This theory has some truth to it, but we also know that we rational human beings are not ruled by our needs. We may decide to put off eating in order to get an important project done at work, and there are many reasons why we might hold our breath. People can even choose to die for a righteous cause.
Our readings today show us how religion fits into our hierarchy of needs. The Jews in our first reading are not hostile to religion; indeed, they would be described as very religious, but when they returned from exile, they decided to take care of their basic needs first. They put off building the temple until they had built their homes and planted crops and saved up a little money. They kept putting off building the temple, until 20 years had passed since they returned from exile. Still the people were saying, “The time has not yet come to rebuild the house of the Lord.”
Would the time ever come? Would there ever be a time when everything was perfect: lots of money and peace and security? No. We cannot always wait until conditions are optimal before we begin building. Good enough has to be good enough. When our ancestors built this church, they had not satisfied every worldly desire first. Each of us has a temple to build in our lives. We build it by going to Mass and praying and works of mercy and fasting and giving alms. If we put off any of this until we are comfortable in the world, we will never get this temple built.
If we delay serving the poor until we have extra time, we will never serve the poor. If we delay giving money to the Church until we have extra money, we will never support the Church. If we delay praying until we are done with whatever else we wanted to do, we will never pray. Air, food, and water are good things, but religion has to be our first priority. When praying is as important as breathing, when fasting is as important as eating, then we will have conquered this world.
September 5, 2011 - Monday of the Twenty-Third Week in Ordinary Time
Today's Readings
What was lacking in the afflictions of Christ? He suffered torture and death and the weight of all of our sins. No one has ever suffered as he has suffered, but St. Paul tells us that he is “filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ.” What could be lacking? Nothing at all, except what we hold back: ourselves. The suffering of Jesus Christ is perfect, but until we join ourselves to that suffering, we, ourselves, are what is lacking in the suffering of Christ.
It is not as if God wishes us to suffer. We see in the Gospel today the solicitude of our Lord for the man with the withered hand, but our suffering can be mere suffering or it can be something holy and salvific. It is by suffering that we are joined to the Body of Christ, if we offer our suffering as a holy oblation to the Lord.
Whether the suffering is little or great, whether it is the arthritis in our knees or the suffering of a sickness that will end in death, whether it is getting up early in the morning to go to work or being and immigrant working thousands of miles away from friends and family, we all have to suffer. Suffering is a given fact in this fallen world, but do we run from suffering, from our cross, or do we embrace our suffering as the Lord embraced his Cross. The Lord tells us, “If anyone wants to follow me, he must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.
Whatever suffering you have, unite it to the suffering of Christ and you will be united to Christ. We do not want to suffer, but more importantly, we do not want to suffer meaninglessly. Consider the difference between the suffering of a person injured in a stupid fight and the suffering of a woman in labor. Consider the difference between the suffering of a slave who must work for another and the suffering of a man who works to provide for his family.
All suffering can be meaningful if it is joined to the suffering of Christ. By choosing to offer our suffering, whatever the cause, as an acceptable sacrifice to the Lord, we make our mundane suffering something remarkable. Then, we too can say that we rejoice in suffering, every new ache and pain and struggle becomes an opportunity to offer ourselves as a living sacrifice.
What was lacking in the afflictions of Christ? He suffered torture and death and the weight of all of our sins. No one has ever suffered as he has suffered, but St. Paul tells us that he is “filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ.” What could be lacking? Nothing at all, except what we hold back: ourselves. The suffering of Jesus Christ is perfect, but until we join ourselves to that suffering, we, ourselves, are what is lacking in the suffering of Christ.
It is not as if God wishes us to suffer. We see in the Gospel today the solicitude of our Lord for the man with the withered hand, but our suffering can be mere suffering or it can be something holy and salvific. It is by suffering that we are joined to the Body of Christ, if we offer our suffering as a holy oblation to the Lord.
Whether the suffering is little or great, whether it is the arthritis in our knees or the suffering of a sickness that will end in death, whether it is getting up early in the morning to go to work or being and immigrant working thousands of miles away from friends and family, we all have to suffer. Suffering is a given fact in this fallen world, but do we run from suffering, from our cross, or do we embrace our suffering as the Lord embraced his Cross. The Lord tells us, “If anyone wants to follow me, he must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.
Whatever suffering you have, unite it to the suffering of Christ and you will be united to Christ. We do not want to suffer, but more importantly, we do not want to suffer meaninglessly. Consider the difference between the suffering of a person injured in a stupid fight and the suffering of a woman in labor. Consider the difference between the suffering of a slave who must work for another and the suffering of a man who works to provide for his family.
All suffering can be meaningful if it is joined to the suffering of Christ. By choosing to offer our suffering, whatever the cause, as an acceptable sacrifice to the Lord, we make our mundane suffering something remarkable. Then, we too can say that we rejoice in suffering, every new ache and pain and struggle becomes an opportunity to offer ourselves as a living sacrifice.
July 23, 2011 - Saturday of the Sixteenth Week in Ordinary Time
Today's Readings
Although we do not have animal sacrifices anymore, sacrifice remains a central concept of our religion; above all is the sacrifice of Jesus Christ on the altar of the Cross. This sacrifice was once and for all, so it is no longer necessary to repeat the animal sacrifices. As the Hebrews were covered by the blood of bulls to form a covenant with the Lord, so now we stand covered in the blood of Jesus Christ. The animal blood was a symbol; all along it was symbolizing the blood of Jesus Christ. The blood of animals cannot take away sins, but the blood of Jesus Christ can.
So it is that we come together each day and offer a sacrifice. We come here and are transported. Participating in the Mass brings us back to the foot of the Cross. That sacrifice was once and for all. It cannot be repeated and it does not need to be repeated. So we use the Mass as a time machine. The sacrifice of the Mass is not redoing the sacrifice of the Cross; it is a participation in the one sacrifice.
Why do we want to participate over and over again in the one sacrifice? If all we had in mind was the modern idea of sacrifice as giving up something, the sacrifice of the Mass would make no sense. If, however, we consider the original idea of sacrifice, it makes perfect sense. When the Israelites were sprinkled with blood, it symbolized their participation in the death of the animal. They deserved death because of their sins, so they constantly participated in the death of animals. We too deserve death because of our sins, so we participate in the death, not of an animal, but of Jesus Christ.
But the animals stayed dead, so if you participate in the death of animal, you stay dead spiritually, whereas Jesus Christ did not stay dead; he rose from the dead. If we participate in the death of Jesus Christ, we will rise with him. Every time we participate in Mass, we die with Jesus and rise with Jesus. This is why St. Paul could say “It is no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me.” The Cross, the sacrifice of Jesus Christ, alone has the power to change us, so it very wise of us to participate daily in this sacrifice.
Some people would say that we are wasting our time each day. The reality is the opposite. Life is filled with useless activity. We eat today, and we have to eat tomorrow. We clean house today, and we have to clean again tomorrow. We earn money and spend money. What does it all add up to? Nothing. Even the work of raising children, the continuation of the human species means nothing if we will be extinct in a million years. All the running around that the world does is running in circles. Here at the Cross, we are making eternal progress.
July 12, 2011 - Tuesday of the Fifteenth Week in Ordinary Time
Today's Readings
Only a desperate person uses death as a solution. Usually death is not a solution but a mystery. We do not know what happens after death, so when no answer makes sense in this life, we try death as a solution. Proponents of euthanasia talk about indignity and unbearable pain, but they fail to answer the most basic question: what experience is waiting on the other side of death? The utter insanity of suicide is being sure that our problems will go away with death when there is no evidence that that is true.
Death is also used as if it could undo what has been done. Such is the case of abortion. A woman is pregnant, and she wishes she were not. An abortion will not reverse the pregnancy; it will only make her the mother of a dead child.
There are uncared for children, poverty, incurable illnesses, and all the other problems in the world, but death is not a solution. We feel helpless in the face of great problems, so we are tempted to use death to solve them, but death is not a solution. This is the lesson of our first reading today. Death was not a solution to Pharaoh’s fear that the Israelites would fight the Egyptians. Death was not a solution to Moses’ anger about the Egyptian hitting his fellow Hebrew.
Consider Moses’ position: the Hebrews are slaves, and he can do nothing to free them. An Egyptian is hurting, perhaps killing a Hebrew before his eyes. So he does what he can; he kills the Egyptian, but this does not help his cause. He is like one of those people who murder an abortion doctor. Besides the obvious problem of one man being judge, jury, and executioner, the greater problem is that more killing does not bring peace.
Jesus provides for us the perfect counter example. His work was not to destroy the bad people but redeem them. He achieved this by the opposite of killing: dying. Jesus today complains that not even his miracles are achieving their proper goal. He seems today, as far as such a thing is possible for God, to be helpless in the face of humanity bent on destroying itself. When we feel helpless in the face of problems larger than we can fix, we should follow his example and die. We do what we can, and the worst that can happen is that the world will kill us.
July 3, 2011 - Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Today's Readings
If we are ever lost in reverie, looking up at the sky and thinking how nice it would be to live on a cloud, after a few seconds, perhaps even a minute, we look back at the earth at forget about clouds. Listening to the Gospels should not be like cloud appreciation. We should not hear the words of Jesus and think, “isn’t that nice”, and then go back to our daily drudgery. Jesus has a teaching for us. He wants to make our lives easier. Jesus says to us, “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.” His advice absolutely can be implemented in our lives. Jesus tells us, “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves.” This is not a scam. He is not making up fluffy religious sayings. This is real advice, for our benefit, which we ought to take seriously.
Our Lord is meek and humble of heart, and he wants us to learn from him because he sees that we labor and are burdened and we wants to give us rest. Although the labor and burdens of our daily work might be what first comes to our mind, it does not seem that Jesus is offering us rest from those. If he were, his solution seems insufficient. How could it help us to be meek and humble of heart? The meek and humble do not often have less work in this world; indeed they usually have more.
If Jesus is not promising us rest from our work, he must be referring to other labor and burdens. If we learned to have a heart like Jesus, meek and humble, even though we would still have work to do each day, our load would lightened. The opposite of humility is pride. Pride is the burden which Jesus is offering us relief from.
The suggestion that pride is weighing us down might offend us at first. A person might not think that they have so much pride, or perhaps they know someone with a great deal of pride who does not seem to be burdened. We should not worry though, for the moment, about other people and their pride. Let us just consider how pride has been burdening us.
Do you spend time worrying about what other people think of you? Are you worried that you have not accomplished enough in this life? Are you upset because someone else has taken credit for your ideas and your work? Do you lie awake at night thinking about how angry you are with someone you cannot forgive? Does it concern you that people misjudge you and misunderstand you? Do you feel like you deserve more material possessions in this life, at least as much as so-and-so has? Are you afraid that you are losing the rat race?
Those are a lot of burdens! Those, and many burdens like them, are the real burdens. If we could be rid of them, life would be much more bearable, no matter what work we have in this world. “But wait,” you are perhaps saying quietly, “you do not understand. I have a real grievance with the world. I have been treated unfairly. I have not been given what I deserve.” I do understand though. I do not doubt that every single person here has been treated unfairly and some people have been seriously misused, but I am not the one recommending humility and meekness; Jesus is, and he is the most abused person in the history of the world. Who has been treated as unfairly as he has?
He says that we should learn from him, that we should take his yoke upon us and learn from him. To teach a young ox how to plow, a farmer would yoke it up with an experienced ox. The experienced ox would know what to do and the young ox would be forced to come along and learn. Jesus offers us his credentials, “I am meek and humble of heart.” We need to let Jesus drag us around while we learn from him; we need to do whatever we see him doing.
What did Jesus do when the Samaritans would not let him walk through their town? He walked around. What did Jesus do when the Pharisees and Sadducees tried to trick him with questions? He answered them and taught them. What did Jesus do when they crowned him with thorns and spit on him? He picked up his Cross and carried it to where he would die. What did Jesus do in the end, after all the abuse and torture and completely unfair treatment? He asked the Father to forgive them since they did not know what they were doing.
Does this mean that we should allow others to treat us badly without complaining? Yes. This is just another reason why a religious vocation is better than a secular vocation: those who have vowed poverty, chastity, and obedience are free to lay down all the burdens of pride. Someone like Blessed Mother Teresa can find rest in the midst of exhausting work, terrible living conditions, and cruel accusations. Someone like St. Martin de Porres can go through life being treated like less than a human being.
St. Francis once said the following about perfect joy: “When we come to the monastery, soaked by the rain and frozen by the cold, all soiled with mud and suffering from hunger, and we ring at the gate of the place and the brother porter comes and says angrily: ‘Who are you?’ And we say: ‘We are two of your brothers.’ And he contradicts us, saying: ‘You are not telling the truth. Rather you are two rascals who go around deceiving people and stealing what they give to the poor. Go away’ And he does not open for us, but makes us stand outside in the snow and rain, cold and hungry, until night falls-then if we endure all those insults and cruel rebuffs patiently, without being troubled and without complaining, and if we reflect humbly and charitably that that porter really knows us and that God makes him speak against us, oh, Brother Leo, write that perfect joy is there!”
We who live in the world cannot experience this perfect joy always, the rest that Jesus offers. The world and the people of this world will try to take every advantage of us possible. We who live in the world will have to keep some burdens, so that society can continue to function. We will have to, at times, fight for our rights and the rights of others, but this responsibility should not prevent us from finding rest where we can by being humble and meek: letting others mistreat us, letting others take more than their share, working hard in this world without credit, forgiving those who do not even know that they wronged us. Will we only hear the Gospel today or will we actually do what it says?
If we are ever lost in reverie, looking up at the sky and thinking how nice it would be to live on a cloud, after a few seconds, perhaps even a minute, we look back at the earth at forget about clouds. Listening to the Gospels should not be like cloud appreciation. We should not hear the words of Jesus and think, “isn’t that nice”, and then go back to our daily drudgery. Jesus has a teaching for us. He wants to make our lives easier. Jesus says to us, “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.” His advice absolutely can be implemented in our lives. Jesus tells us, “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves.” This is not a scam. He is not making up fluffy religious sayings. This is real advice, for our benefit, which we ought to take seriously.
Our Lord is meek and humble of heart, and he wants us to learn from him because he sees that we labor and are burdened and we wants to give us rest. Although the labor and burdens of our daily work might be what first comes to our mind, it does not seem that Jesus is offering us rest from those. If he were, his solution seems insufficient. How could it help us to be meek and humble of heart? The meek and humble do not often have less work in this world; indeed they usually have more.
If Jesus is not promising us rest from our work, he must be referring to other labor and burdens. If we learned to have a heart like Jesus, meek and humble, even though we would still have work to do each day, our load would lightened. The opposite of humility is pride. Pride is the burden which Jesus is offering us relief from.
The suggestion that pride is weighing us down might offend us at first. A person might not think that they have so much pride, or perhaps they know someone with a great deal of pride who does not seem to be burdened. We should not worry though, for the moment, about other people and their pride. Let us just consider how pride has been burdening us.
Do you spend time worrying about what other people think of you? Are you worried that you have not accomplished enough in this life? Are you upset because someone else has taken credit for your ideas and your work? Do you lie awake at night thinking about how angry you are with someone you cannot forgive? Does it concern you that people misjudge you and misunderstand you? Do you feel like you deserve more material possessions in this life, at least as much as so-and-so has? Are you afraid that you are losing the rat race?
Those are a lot of burdens! Those, and many burdens like them, are the real burdens. If we could be rid of them, life would be much more bearable, no matter what work we have in this world. “But wait,” you are perhaps saying quietly, “you do not understand. I have a real grievance with the world. I have been treated unfairly. I have not been given what I deserve.” I do understand though. I do not doubt that every single person here has been treated unfairly and some people have been seriously misused, but I am not the one recommending humility and meekness; Jesus is, and he is the most abused person in the history of the world. Who has been treated as unfairly as he has?
He says that we should learn from him, that we should take his yoke upon us and learn from him. To teach a young ox how to plow, a farmer would yoke it up with an experienced ox. The experienced ox would know what to do and the young ox would be forced to come along and learn. Jesus offers us his credentials, “I am meek and humble of heart.” We need to let Jesus drag us around while we learn from him; we need to do whatever we see him doing.
What did Jesus do when the Samaritans would not let him walk through their town? He walked around. What did Jesus do when the Pharisees and Sadducees tried to trick him with questions? He answered them and taught them. What did Jesus do when they crowned him with thorns and spit on him? He picked up his Cross and carried it to where he would die. What did Jesus do in the end, after all the abuse and torture and completely unfair treatment? He asked the Father to forgive them since they did not know what they were doing.
Does this mean that we should allow others to treat us badly without complaining? Yes. This is just another reason why a religious vocation is better than a secular vocation: those who have vowed poverty, chastity, and obedience are free to lay down all the burdens of pride. Someone like Blessed Mother Teresa can find rest in the midst of exhausting work, terrible living conditions, and cruel accusations. Someone like St. Martin de Porres can go through life being treated like less than a human being.
St. Francis once said the following about perfect joy: “When we come to the monastery, soaked by the rain and frozen by the cold, all soiled with mud and suffering from hunger, and we ring at the gate of the place and the brother porter comes and says angrily: ‘Who are you?’ And we say: ‘We are two of your brothers.’ And he contradicts us, saying: ‘You are not telling the truth. Rather you are two rascals who go around deceiving people and stealing what they give to the poor. Go away’ And he does not open for us, but makes us stand outside in the snow and rain, cold and hungry, until night falls-then if we endure all those insults and cruel rebuffs patiently, without being troubled and without complaining, and if we reflect humbly and charitably that that porter really knows us and that God makes him speak against us, oh, Brother Leo, write that perfect joy is there!”
We who live in the world cannot experience this perfect joy always, the rest that Jesus offers. The world and the people of this world will try to take every advantage of us possible. We who live in the world will have to keep some burdens, so that society can continue to function. We will have to, at times, fight for our rights and the rights of others, but this responsibility should not prevent us from finding rest where we can by being humble and meek: letting others mistreat us, letting others take more than their share, working hard in this world without credit, forgiving those who do not even know that they wronged us. Will we only hear the Gospel today or will we actually do what it says?
February 25, 2011 - Friday of the Seventh Week in Ordinary Time
It is important to note two points about Jesus’ teaching today. First, his prohibition against divorce is based on remarriage. He is telling us that once a marriage has been created, only death will end it. “’Til death do us part” is not just romantic language but a reality. Even if, sometimes for very good reasons, two people stop living together, never see each other again, even get a judge to split up the property in a civil divorce, they are still married. Such a person may have done nothing wrong, particularly if they are seeing to the care of their children, but they are not able to marry another person. They are still married.
The second point Jesus mentions in another place: this does not apply to unlawful marriages. In other words, if a marriage never actually got started, then a person is not bound to what does not really exist. The classic case of this is the shotgun marriage, where two people are forced into marriage against their will. No one can be forced to get married. They might say all the words and sign in all the right places, but marriage requires two people entering the life of their own free will. It is for such cases that the Church has annulments. In an annulment, the Church investigates the wedding and makes sure that nothing happened which prevented the marriage from ever existing. An annulment never dissolves a marriage that is a sacrament.
When two people are married, they make a decision, but how that decision is understood is at the heart of many difficulties in our modern age. Marriage is not a non-binding contract. Jesus says, “What God has joined together, no human being must separate.” When two people agree to be married, they are asking God to join them in an indissoluble contract. As part of the benefits of the union, God will give them the grace to live together, in good times and bad, in sickness and in health, to live together and serve each other when a human agreement would not be enough. To give up one’s freedom and be bound to another, that is marriage. It is far more romantic. In the modern idea of marriage, nothing is sacrificed, nothing changes. In the true idea of marriage, the two become one flesh, the individuals no longer remain individual, a miracle only God can accomplish.
February 18, 2011 - Friday of the Sixth Week in Ordinary Time
Today's Readings
The teaching of Jesus today is for those who have already decided to follow him. He is explaining the cost of discipleship. We have to deny ourselves and take up our cross. Jesus sets the denial as a prerequisite to discipleship. Of course, as we grow in our faith, we will have a deeper understanding of what this denial means; as we grow in grace, we will be better equipped to deny ourselves. At the beginning, however, we have to make a positive decision to deny ourselves.
Some people try to follow Jesus without denying themselves. They may be very enthusiastic; they often mean well. They are not trying to disobey Jesus; they merely never learned that denial was the cost of discipleship. They would not commit a sin if it involved hurting somebody, but they are confused by the other side of morality. How many times I have heard someone say, “What good does fasting do? I am going to do something useful instead.”! This is like saying, “What good does bathing do? I am going to eat something instead.” A Christian life that consisted only of doing useful things would be rather pointless. There would be no growth. A Christian should do good things, but they should deny themself also.
Jesus asks, “What profit is there for one to gain the whole world and forfeit his soul?” It is possible and popular to interpret this verse to say that no success in this world is worth sinning for. This is true, but this understanding does not fit in with the surrounding verses. Taken as a whole, Jesus is telling us what Socrates told the Athenians, what any good philosopher teaches: the remarkable man is not the one who commands 10,000 other men; the truly remarkable man commands himself. Jesus is not telling us that in pursuit of success we should use lawful means; he is questioning success as the world sees it. What do I want with the whole world? What would I do with it if I had it? My soul, however, I would like to be in control of. I would like to truly be master of myself. Death, which leads to new life, means the death of pride, the death of greed, the death of lust, the death of laziness, the death of envy, the death of gluttony, the death of wrath. Self-denial is the weapon. Employ it mercilessly.
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