Isaiah 55:10-11
Psalm 34:4-7, 16-19
Matthew 6:7-15
Our God is not deaf. He is not asleep. He is not far away from us. Our God is not busy. We have so much difficulty imagining an omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient, eternal God that we invent difficulties that do not exist. We imagine that God must be too busy running the whole universe to listen to us. God is not like us. He is more attentive to each of us than we are to ourselves. He knows the life history of every mosquito. He knows when a hair falls off our head. We cannot fathom how attentive he is to us.
God does not hear us because we pray to him. He hears every word we speak all day long; he knows every thought we think. We may be tempted to imagine that when we turn to God in prayer, it is like picking up the phone and calling him. Not at all! We are more like a toddler picking up a toy phone and calling our father who is sitting right there watching us. God does not hear us better when we are in church or when our hands are folded or when we are looking up at a particular corner of the ceiling or shouting at the sky.
God is not inattentive, but we are. The difference between when we pray and when we are not praying is not God’s attention to us but our attention to God. Sometimes we wonder whether God is hearing our prayer. This is certain: he is. Our real concern should be with whether we are hearing him. God is with us always, hearing every thought, feeling, and word, but, when we finally turn to him, we act like he does not know us. We think that prayer is all about God, but, paradoxically, it is all about us. When we pray, we are not contending with an absent God but with ourselves: with our selfish, stubborn, obtuse natures.
When we pray, we may use many words or few, we might repeat a prayer or speak freely to God, we may invoke God’s name or ask a Saint to pray for us, we might read the Scriptures or sit in silence hoping to hear the Spirit speak within us, but we should not pile up words, as the Gentiles do, thinking that in their many words they will be heard. We are not trying to be heard; we are trying to hear.
Daily Homilies
Showing posts with label Trust. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Trust. Show all posts
March 11, 2014 - Tuesday of the First Week of Lent
Isaiah 55:10-11
Psalm 34:4-7, 16-19
Matthew 6:7-15
Our God is not deaf. He is not asleep. He is not far away from us. Our God is not busy. We have so much difficulty imagining an omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient, eternal God that we invent difficulties that do not exist. We imagine that God must be too busy running the whole universe to listen to us. God is not like us. He is more attentive to each of us than we are to ourselves. He knows the life history of every mosquito. He knows when a hair falls off our head. We cannot fathom how attentive he is to us.
God does not hear us because we pray to him. He hears every word we speak all day long; he knows every thought we think. We may be tempted to imagine that when we turn to God in prayer, it is like picking up the phone and calling him. Not at all! We are more like a toddler picking up a toy phone and calling our father who is sitting right there watching us. God does not hear us better when we are in church or when our hands are folded or when we are looking up at a particular corner of the ceiling or shouting at the sky.
God is not inattentive, but we are. The difference between when we pray and when we are not praying is not God’s attention to us but our attention to God. Sometimes we wonder whether God is hearing our prayer. This is certain: he is. Our real concern should be with whether we are hearing him. God is with us always, hearing every thought, feeling, and word, but, when we finally turn to him, we act like he does not know us. We think that prayer is all about God, but, paradoxically, it is all about us. When we pray, we are not contending with an absent God but with ourselves: with our selfish, stubborn, obtuse natures.
When we pray, we may use many words or few, we might repeat a prayer or speak freely to God, we may invoke God’s name or ask a Saint to pray for us, we might read the Scriptures or sit in silence hoping to hear the Spirit speak within us, but we should not pile up words, as the Gentiles do, thinking that in their many words they will be heard. We are not trying to be heard; we are trying to hear.
Psalm 34:4-7, 16-19
Matthew 6:7-15
Our God is not deaf. He is not asleep. He is not far away from us. Our God is not busy. We have so much difficulty imagining an omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient, eternal God that we invent difficulties that do not exist. We imagine that God must be too busy running the whole universe to listen to us. God is not like us. He is more attentive to each of us than we are to ourselves. He knows the life history of every mosquito. He knows when a hair falls off our head. We cannot fathom how attentive he is to us.
God does not hear us because we pray to him. He hears every word we speak all day long; he knows every thought we think. We may be tempted to imagine that when we turn to God in prayer, it is like picking up the phone and calling him. Not at all! We are more like a toddler picking up a toy phone and calling our father who is sitting right there watching us. God does not hear us better when we are in church or when our hands are folded or when we are looking up at a particular corner of the ceiling or shouting at the sky.
God is not inattentive, but we are. The difference between when we pray and when we are not praying is not God’s attention to us but our attention to God. Sometimes we wonder whether God is hearing our prayer. This is certain: he is. Our real concern should be with whether we are hearing him. God is with us always, hearing every thought, feeling, and word, but, when we finally turn to him, we act like he does not know us. We think that prayer is all about God, but, paradoxically, it is all about us. When we pray, we are not contending with an absent God but with ourselves: with our selfish, stubborn, obtuse natures.
When we pray, we may use many words or few, we might repeat a prayer or speak freely to God, we may invoke God’s name or ask a Saint to pray for us, we might read the Scriptures or sit in silence hoping to hear the Spirit speak within us, but we should not pile up words, as the Gentiles do, thinking that in their many words they will be heard. We are not trying to be heard; we are trying to hear.
February 9, 2014 - Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Isaiah 58:7-10
Psalm 112:4-9
1 Corinthians 2:1-5
Matthew 5:13-16
Jesus says, “You are the salt of the earth.” He also says, “You are the light of the world.” Jesus is telling us that we are different. If the flavor of salt was the same as the flavor of the food, it would be useless. No one sprinkles some potatoes on their potatoes or adds a dash of rice to the rice, for flavoring. Salt must be different than what it is flavoring. If a light is not brighter than what is around it, it does not deserve to be called a light. Light is not a remarkable thing in the daytime, but at night the smallest light becomes immensely powerful. Nobody takes note of the flashing blue light on the DVD player at noon, but when you are trying to sleep it might as well be a 1000 watt light bulb. Each, both salt and light, is important and useful because it is different from its environment.
What are we to flavor? The earth. What are we to light up? The world. When Jesus tells us that we are the salt of the earth, the light of the world, he is telling us that we have to be different from the world. The flavor of the world is selfishness, greed, lust, laziness. This world is boring. This world is dull. This world lacks flavor. Light is a sign of goodness, and there is some light in this world. There are people who do good things naturally. We, however, must do better. If we are going to light up the world, we have to be significantly brighter than the world around us.
Perhaps someone does not believe that the world is lacking in flavor, that it is very dim. We have some guinea pigs at our disposal. There are people who spend their days trying everything that the world has to offer, trying to find something with real flavor. These people are the rich and famous, the celebrities. Some of them spend their whole lives trying to find flavor, being consumed in the search. Some of them realize that everything this world has to offer is bland in the end, so they go looking for something different than the world, and often end up believing in nonsense. Immense wealth and a lot of free time should add up to people who are happier, but it almost never does.
Some here today do not need to look so far outside themselves. They have arrived here after tasting the whole world and finding it insipid. Others have arrived here without tasting much of the world at all, but simply believing what their eyes tell them: there is no satisfaction in this world. We are here today because we want something different. And if we want something different and the something different is not out there in the world, we are going to have to be something different. We are here today because we want to be salt; we want to be light!
We have a problem though: we are children of this earth; we are of this world. If something is going to change the flavor of the world, it must come from outside of the world. If there is energy bright enough to make sunshine seem dim, it too must come from outside the world. Jesus came into this world from outside. He continues to send the Holy Spirit to us from outside of the world. Jesus is different; the Holy Spirit is different. Here we have real difference! This is where our flavor and light is going to come from: the teachings of Jesus and the power of the Holy Spirit.
The world praises wealth, sex, and freedom. These three values express everything the world has to offer. There is nothing intrinsically evil about these. Wealth, sex, and freedom are all gifts from God to humanity, but without some salt they will be very dull. The teachings of Jesus point us to the proper flavoring: poverty, chastity, and obedience. The world is without flavor because it loves wealth without poverty, sex without chastity, and freedom without obedience. The world tells us that we are the fools because we refuse to have an unlimited love for what the world values. We refuse to love money itself; instead we appreciate being able to buy bread for the hungry, homes for the homeless, and clothing for the naked. We refuse to love sexual pleasure itself; instead we wonder that God has given to men and women the ability to participate in his creation. We refuse to love freedom itself; instead we love the opportunity that freedom gives us to live in accordance with the truth.
A little salt goes a long way. A little light in the darkness can seem very bright. The saints very rarely did great things, as the world sees great things. Very few saints were kings or queens or popes. St. Francis just chose to live in the woods and beg for his food. Mother Theresa just chose to care for dying people. Neither of them put up an advertising campaign to spread the word about their magnificence. The whole world knows about them because they were different, and seeing something different was very shocking to the world. The difference caused some people to hate them. It caused other people to give up their lives and follow them. When we see light in a dark place we can choose either to shield our eyes or to celebrate that light has finally been found.
“You are the salt of the earth.” “You are the light of the world.” How amazing that Jesus entrusted us with this role. Very few of us Christians ever end up being very different from the world, which is sad, because that means that most of us live very dull lives. Nevertheless there are little differences in our lives that add some flavor. When we come to Mass every Sunday, we are a little different. When we pray before we eat, especially in public, we add a little excitement to the world. When we choose to live our lives according to a moral code that is incomprehensible to the world and sometimes even difficult for us to understand, we are a little more interesting. Still, the possibility remains for anyone who would like to do something with their life: you could always try being different, being salt in a bland world, being light in a dark place.
Psalm 112:4-9
1 Corinthians 2:1-5
Matthew 5:13-16
Jesus says, “You are the salt of the earth.” He also says, “You are the light of the world.” Jesus is telling us that we are different. If the flavor of salt was the same as the flavor of the food, it would be useless. No one sprinkles some potatoes on their potatoes or adds a dash of rice to the rice, for flavoring. Salt must be different than what it is flavoring. If a light is not brighter than what is around it, it does not deserve to be called a light. Light is not a remarkable thing in the daytime, but at night the smallest light becomes immensely powerful. Nobody takes note of the flashing blue light on the DVD player at noon, but when you are trying to sleep it might as well be a 1000 watt light bulb. Each, both salt and light, is important and useful because it is different from its environment.
What are we to flavor? The earth. What are we to light up? The world. When Jesus tells us that we are the salt of the earth, the light of the world, he is telling us that we have to be different from the world. The flavor of the world is selfishness, greed, lust, laziness. This world is boring. This world is dull. This world lacks flavor. Light is a sign of goodness, and there is some light in this world. There are people who do good things naturally. We, however, must do better. If we are going to light up the world, we have to be significantly brighter than the world around us.
Perhaps someone does not believe that the world is lacking in flavor, that it is very dim. We have some guinea pigs at our disposal. There are people who spend their days trying everything that the world has to offer, trying to find something with real flavor. These people are the rich and famous, the celebrities. Some of them spend their whole lives trying to find flavor, being consumed in the search. Some of them realize that everything this world has to offer is bland in the end, so they go looking for something different than the world, and often end up believing in nonsense. Immense wealth and a lot of free time should add up to people who are happier, but it almost never does.
Some here today do not need to look so far outside themselves. They have arrived here after tasting the whole world and finding it insipid. Others have arrived here without tasting much of the world at all, but simply believing what their eyes tell them: there is no satisfaction in this world. We are here today because we want something different. And if we want something different and the something different is not out there in the world, we are going to have to be something different. We are here today because we want to be salt; we want to be light!
We have a problem though: we are children of this earth; we are of this world. If something is going to change the flavor of the world, it must come from outside of the world. If there is energy bright enough to make sunshine seem dim, it too must come from outside the world. Jesus came into this world from outside. He continues to send the Holy Spirit to us from outside of the world. Jesus is different; the Holy Spirit is different. Here we have real difference! This is where our flavor and light is going to come from: the teachings of Jesus and the power of the Holy Spirit.
The world praises wealth, sex, and freedom. These three values express everything the world has to offer. There is nothing intrinsically evil about these. Wealth, sex, and freedom are all gifts from God to humanity, but without some salt they will be very dull. The teachings of Jesus point us to the proper flavoring: poverty, chastity, and obedience. The world is without flavor because it loves wealth without poverty, sex without chastity, and freedom without obedience. The world tells us that we are the fools because we refuse to have an unlimited love for what the world values. We refuse to love money itself; instead we appreciate being able to buy bread for the hungry, homes for the homeless, and clothing for the naked. We refuse to love sexual pleasure itself; instead we wonder that God has given to men and women the ability to participate in his creation. We refuse to love freedom itself; instead we love the opportunity that freedom gives us to live in accordance with the truth.
A little salt goes a long way. A little light in the darkness can seem very bright. The saints very rarely did great things, as the world sees great things. Very few saints were kings or queens or popes. St. Francis just chose to live in the woods and beg for his food. Mother Theresa just chose to care for dying people. Neither of them put up an advertising campaign to spread the word about their magnificence. The whole world knows about them because they were different, and seeing something different was very shocking to the world. The difference caused some people to hate them. It caused other people to give up their lives and follow them. When we see light in a dark place we can choose either to shield our eyes or to celebrate that light has finally been found.
“You are the salt of the earth.” “You are the light of the world.” How amazing that Jesus entrusted us with this role. Very few of us Christians ever end up being very different from the world, which is sad, because that means that most of us live very dull lives. Nevertheless there are little differences in our lives that add some flavor. When we come to Mass every Sunday, we are a little different. When we pray before we eat, especially in public, we add a little excitement to the world. When we choose to live our lives according to a moral code that is incomprehensible to the world and sometimes even difficult for us to understand, we are a little more interesting. Still, the possibility remains for anyone who would like to do something with their life: you could always try being different, being salt in a bland world, being light in a dark place.
January 21, 2014 - Tuesday of the Second Week in Ordinary Time
1 Samuel 16:1-13
Psalm 89:20-22, 27-28
Mark 2:23-28
“God does not see as a human sees.” How does a human see? Well light comes from the light source such as a lamp or the sun and it bounces off an object. The nature of the object changes what kind of light and how much light bounces off. Then the light enters the human eye, causing chemical changes on the retina. This is how a human sees, but not God.
God knows everything perfectly. He does not see a thing as much as he simply knows all about it. No atom in the universe loses an electron without God being aware. So the first difference between the human sight and divine sight is that human sight is limited to those objects which we see light bouncing off of whereas God's sight is unlimited.
But there are other differences too. Even when we are looking at something and can see it perfectly, our brains cannot always process the information. This is what causes optical illusions. An optical illusion can be looked at with the best light and still fool us. One line seems longer than another but when we bring out the ruler we find that it is not. God's sight is different in this way too because he always understands perfectly everything he knows.
And even when we are able to see something and understand what it is we see, we might fail to catch the significance. If you see a ring on the fourth finger of a person's left hand you know that they are married, but if we went to a different culture we would probably miss their equivalent symbols. A small mark or a piece of jewelry or a color of clothing might signify something very important to those who understand.
God, of course, understands all these things. God can see into the human heart. We have trouble seeing into our own hearts, let alone the heart of another, but God can see clearly our thoughts and motivations, our fears and our dreams. The truth in my heart might be hidden so that not even I know it, but God does. So when God tells me what will make me happy, what I should do and what I should avoid, I can be sure that he knows me better than I do.
Psalm 89:20-22, 27-28
Mark 2:23-28
“God does not see as a human sees.” How does a human see? Well light comes from the light source such as a lamp or the sun and it bounces off an object. The nature of the object changes what kind of light and how much light bounces off. Then the light enters the human eye, causing chemical changes on the retina. This is how a human sees, but not God.
God knows everything perfectly. He does not see a thing as much as he simply knows all about it. No atom in the universe loses an electron without God being aware. So the first difference between the human sight and divine sight is that human sight is limited to those objects which we see light bouncing off of whereas God's sight is unlimited.
But there are other differences too. Even when we are looking at something and can see it perfectly, our brains cannot always process the information. This is what causes optical illusions. An optical illusion can be looked at with the best light and still fool us. One line seems longer than another but when we bring out the ruler we find that it is not. God's sight is different in this way too because he always understands perfectly everything he knows.
And even when we are able to see something and understand what it is we see, we might fail to catch the significance. If you see a ring on the fourth finger of a person's left hand you know that they are married, but if we went to a different culture we would probably miss their equivalent symbols. A small mark or a piece of jewelry or a color of clothing might signify something very important to those who understand.
God, of course, understands all these things. God can see into the human heart. We have trouble seeing into our own hearts, let alone the heart of another, but God can see clearly our thoughts and motivations, our fears and our dreams. The truth in my heart might be hidden so that not even I know it, but God does. So when God tells me what will make me happy, what I should do and what I should avoid, I can be sure that he knows me better than I do.
January 18, 2014 - Saturday of the First Week in Ordinary Time
1 Samuel 9:1-4, 17-19; 10:1
Psalm 21:2-7
Mark 2:13-17
In any group project, at work or school, we might have the tendency either to take over the project or to let others do all the work. Some people are glad to have all the work done for them, but other people cannot trust anyone else to do their share properly, and depending on the group and what needs to get done they might be right, but in the group project that is this world we have to admit freely that we are not the most competent or the greatest. Those who have a tendency to take over a project are at a disadvantage. Those who know how to let others do work for them are better prepared to trust in God.
In the first reading today God chooses as king a man who was better than all the other Israelites. He was taller and stronger and more handsome than any other Israelite, but God will eventually find a replacement for him. When we think of the first king of Israel, usually King David comes to mind, there was a king before King David: King Saul who we read about today. God rejected Saul because Saul was not obedient. God gave Saul a job to do with specific instructions, but Saul decided he knew how to do it better.
The scribes and Pharisees might have liked Jesus better if when he came to Earth he gave them recognition for all their hard work. Instead, he spends his time with all the slackers. They do not understand why Jesus would want to be near sinners, but Jesus says that it is only natural since sinners are the ones who need his salvation. The scribes and Pharisees need his salvation too, but they do not know that. The sinners are at an advantage because they know that they need God. The scribes and Pharisees are delusional because they think that they can get along on their own strength.
What is better, to have the whole weight of the world resting on your shoulders or to have someone else carry that weight? Without question, it is better to have someone else carry the weight, but only if we can trust that someone else. We may not always be able to trust others, but we can trust God. In the presence of God we can finally let go and let someone else take charge, submitting to him in all humility.
Psalm 21:2-7
Mark 2:13-17
In any group project, at work or school, we might have the tendency either to take over the project or to let others do all the work. Some people are glad to have all the work done for them, but other people cannot trust anyone else to do their share properly, and depending on the group and what needs to get done they might be right, but in the group project that is this world we have to admit freely that we are not the most competent or the greatest. Those who have a tendency to take over a project are at a disadvantage. Those who know how to let others do work for them are better prepared to trust in God.
In the first reading today God chooses as king a man who was better than all the other Israelites. He was taller and stronger and more handsome than any other Israelite, but God will eventually find a replacement for him. When we think of the first king of Israel, usually King David comes to mind, there was a king before King David: King Saul who we read about today. God rejected Saul because Saul was not obedient. God gave Saul a job to do with specific instructions, but Saul decided he knew how to do it better.
The scribes and Pharisees might have liked Jesus better if when he came to Earth he gave them recognition for all their hard work. Instead, he spends his time with all the slackers. They do not understand why Jesus would want to be near sinners, but Jesus says that it is only natural since sinners are the ones who need his salvation. The scribes and Pharisees need his salvation too, but they do not know that. The sinners are at an advantage because they know that they need God. The scribes and Pharisees are delusional because they think that they can get along on their own strength.
What is better, to have the whole weight of the world resting on your shoulders or to have someone else carry that weight? Without question, it is better to have someone else carry the weight, but only if we can trust that someone else. We may not always be able to trust others, but we can trust God. In the presence of God we can finally let go and let someone else take charge, submitting to him in all humility.
February 19, 2013 - Tuesday of the First Week of Lent
Isaiah 55:10-11
Psalm 34:4-7, 16-19
Matthew 6:7-15
Our God is not deaf. He is not asleep. He is not far away from us. Our God is not busy. We have so much difficulty imagining an omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient, eternal God that we invent difficulties that do not exist. We imagine that God must be too busy running the whole universe to listen to us. God is not like us. He is more attentive to each of us than we are to ourselves. He knows the life history of every mosquito. He knows when a hair falls off our head. We cannot fathom how attentive he is to us.
God does not hear us because we pray to him. He hears every word we speak all day long; he knows every thought we think. We may be tempted to imagine that when we turn to God in prayer, it is like picking up the phone and calling him. Not at all! We are more like a toddler picking up a toy phone and calling our father who is sitting right there watching us. God does not hear us better when we are in church or when our hands are folded or when we are looking up at a particular corner of the ceiling or shouting at the sky.
God is not inattentive, but we are. The difference between when we pray and when we are not praying is not God’s attention to us but our attention to God. Sometimes we wonder whether God is hearing our prayer. This is certain: he is. Our real concern should be with whether we are hearing him. God is with us always, hearing every thought, feeling, and word, but, when we finally turn to him, we act like he does not know us. We think that prayer is all about God, but, paradoxically, it is all about us. When we pray, we are not contending with an absent God but with ourselves: with our selfish, stubborn, obtuse natures.
When we pray, we may use many words or few, we might repeat a prayer or speak freely to God, we may invoke God’s name or ask a Saint to pray for us, we might read the Scriptures or sit in silence hoping to hear the Spirit speak within us, but we should not pile up words, as the Gentiles do, thinking that in their many words they will be heard. We are not trying to be heard; we are trying to hear.
Psalm 34:4-7, 16-19
Matthew 6:7-15
Our God is not deaf. He is not asleep. He is not far away from us. Our God is not busy. We have so much difficulty imagining an omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient, eternal God that we invent difficulties that do not exist. We imagine that God must be too busy running the whole universe to listen to us. God is not like us. He is more attentive to each of us than we are to ourselves. He knows the life history of every mosquito. He knows when a hair falls off our head. We cannot fathom how attentive he is to us.
God does not hear us because we pray to him. He hears every word we speak all day long; he knows every thought we think. We may be tempted to imagine that when we turn to God in prayer, it is like picking up the phone and calling him. Not at all! We are more like a toddler picking up a toy phone and calling our father who is sitting right there watching us. God does not hear us better when we are in church or when our hands are folded or when we are looking up at a particular corner of the ceiling or shouting at the sky.
God is not inattentive, but we are. The difference between when we pray and when we are not praying is not God’s attention to us but our attention to God. Sometimes we wonder whether God is hearing our prayer. This is certain: he is. Our real concern should be with whether we are hearing him. God is with us always, hearing every thought, feeling, and word, but, when we finally turn to him, we act like he does not know us. We think that prayer is all about God, but, paradoxically, it is all about us. When we pray, we are not contending with an absent God but with ourselves: with our selfish, stubborn, obtuse natures.
When we pray, we may use many words or few, we might repeat a prayer or speak freely to God, we may invoke God’s name or ask a Saint to pray for us, we might read the Scriptures or sit in silence hoping to hear the Spirit speak within us, but we should not pile up words, as the Gentiles do, thinking that in their many words they will be heard. We are not trying to be heard; we are trying to hear.
January 26, 2013 - Saturday of the Second Week in Ordinary Time
2 Timothy 1:1-8 or Titus 1:1-5
Psalm 96:1-3, 7-8, 10
Mark 3:20-21
We are told that “When his relatives heard of this they set out to seize him, for they said, “He is out of his mind.’” The original words in Greek here can mean relatives, but it literally means “his own”. Jesus’ own people, his mother and brothers.
Now we know that Jesus did not have any brothers, strictly speaking. The word brothers refers either to his step-brothers from a previous marriage of Joseph or to his cousins who were sometimes called brothers in that culture. We also know that Mary, Jesus’ mother, did not really think that he was out of his mind. She knows that he is God. While she did not understand everything that he did, she did trust him completely. I think that when Jesus’ brothers decided to go, she simply went along because she would never turn down an opportunity to see Jesus.
But what about these brothers? Anyone with a sibling who causes trouble can understand their minds. They are concerned for Jesus, that he will hurt himself or get himself killed. They are also concerned for the family’s reputation. They are going to go find him and “seize him” as the Gospel says, take hold of him, get him under control.
When they arrive they find something very different than what they were evidently expecting. They do not find crowds of people laughing at Jesus. They do not find a small contingent of equally crazy people following him around. They find crowds of sane people listening. They hear his teaching: rather than the crazed rambling they expected. It is beautiful to listen to. They find that one of their brothers, James, has become an apostle of Jesus.
When we look at the world around us, we too might be convinced that God is crazy. There is too much violence and too much suffering. The wicked go unpunished. We might have a temptation to go to God and take hold of him and tell him how he ought to be running the universe. Then we look around and see the whole world, a delicate balance of physical laws and living creatures and free people and realize that we must trust God, simply. We can have faith in him; we do not need to be afraid.
Psalm 96:1-3, 7-8, 10
Mark 3:20-21
We are told that “When his relatives heard of this they set out to seize him, for they said, “He is out of his mind.’” The original words in Greek here can mean relatives, but it literally means “his own”. Jesus’ own people, his mother and brothers.
Now we know that Jesus did not have any brothers, strictly speaking. The word brothers refers either to his step-brothers from a previous marriage of Joseph or to his cousins who were sometimes called brothers in that culture. We also know that Mary, Jesus’ mother, did not really think that he was out of his mind. She knows that he is God. While she did not understand everything that he did, she did trust him completely. I think that when Jesus’ brothers decided to go, she simply went along because she would never turn down an opportunity to see Jesus.
But what about these brothers? Anyone with a sibling who causes trouble can understand their minds. They are concerned for Jesus, that he will hurt himself or get himself killed. They are also concerned for the family’s reputation. They are going to go find him and “seize him” as the Gospel says, take hold of him, get him under control.
When they arrive they find something very different than what they were evidently expecting. They do not find crowds of people laughing at Jesus. They do not find a small contingent of equally crazy people following him around. They find crowds of sane people listening. They hear his teaching: rather than the crazed rambling they expected. It is beautiful to listen to. They find that one of their brothers, James, has become an apostle of Jesus.
When we look at the world around us, we too might be convinced that God is crazy. There is too much violence and too much suffering. The wicked go unpunished. We might have a temptation to go to God and take hold of him and tell him how he ought to be running the universe. Then we look around and see the whole world, a delicate balance of physical laws and living creatures and free people and realize that we must trust God, simply. We can have faith in him; we do not need to be afraid.
December 14, 2012 - Friday of the Second Week of Advent
Isaiah 48:17-19
Psalm 1:1-4, 6
Matthew 11:16-19
The irony of the Gospel is that people keep rejecting the kinds of prophets whom God sends, as if they were in a position to judge and reject God. It is as if a sick person in the hospital in need of emergency surgery kept rejecting doctors: too tall, too short, too skinny. They thought that John the Baptist was too austere, and Jesus was too friendly. In reality, John was exactly as austere as he should have been, and Jesus was exactly as friendly as he should have been. The people could not see the difference between, “This is the sort of prophet whom I like to have” and “This is the sort of prophet whom I need.”
I think it would be very presumptuous of me to presume that I or any other member of the clergy brings exactly the level of friendliness or fasting that we ought to. When people complain about us, they are probably often justified. But just because the person preaching is too much this and not enough that does not mean that their message is useless. Sometimes people become preoccupied with judging some clergy and rejecting others and even celebrating others. As St. Paul says, “If you judge the law, you are not a follower of the law.” If we are trying to judge whether we liked the homily, we are not listening to the homily and being moved by the presence of the Holy Spirit.
The greatest difficulty with this is that there are many false shepherds. There are wolves in sheep’s clothing who come into the Church as clergy and then preach the opposite of the Church’s teachings, or worse, commit grave sins and claim that what they are doing is good. Do we not need to be on our guard? Yes, but whether they are too fat or thin, too loud or quiet, too American or foreign, too liberal or conservative, too happy or sad, too smart or dumb, or whatever other human traits attract us or stand in the way of following them, we know that we do not worship them but Jesus Christ. If they lead us to Jesus, we can get over their faults. If they lead us away from him, it would not matter how pleasant they are. It is nice to find a preacher who is fun and easy to listen to, but it is far more important that they will lead us to Jesus.
Psalm 1:1-4, 6
Matthew 11:16-19
The irony of the Gospel is that people keep rejecting the kinds of prophets whom God sends, as if they were in a position to judge and reject God. It is as if a sick person in the hospital in need of emergency surgery kept rejecting doctors: too tall, too short, too skinny. They thought that John the Baptist was too austere, and Jesus was too friendly. In reality, John was exactly as austere as he should have been, and Jesus was exactly as friendly as he should have been. The people could not see the difference between, “This is the sort of prophet whom I like to have” and “This is the sort of prophet whom I need.”
I think it would be very presumptuous of me to presume that I or any other member of the clergy brings exactly the level of friendliness or fasting that we ought to. When people complain about us, they are probably often justified. But just because the person preaching is too much this and not enough that does not mean that their message is useless. Sometimes people become preoccupied with judging some clergy and rejecting others and even celebrating others. As St. Paul says, “If you judge the law, you are not a follower of the law.” If we are trying to judge whether we liked the homily, we are not listening to the homily and being moved by the presence of the Holy Spirit.
The greatest difficulty with this is that there are many false shepherds. There are wolves in sheep’s clothing who come into the Church as clergy and then preach the opposite of the Church’s teachings, or worse, commit grave sins and claim that what they are doing is good. Do we not need to be on our guard? Yes, but whether they are too fat or thin, too loud or quiet, too American or foreign, too liberal or conservative, too happy or sad, too smart or dumb, or whatever other human traits attract us or stand in the way of following them, we know that we do not worship them but Jesus Christ. If they lead us to Jesus, we can get over their faults. If they lead us away from him, it would not matter how pleasant they are. It is nice to find a preacher who is fun and easy to listen to, but it is far more important that they will lead us to Jesus.
November 6, 2012 - Tuesday of the Thirty-first Week in Ordinary Time
Philippians 2:5-11
Psalm 22:26-32
Luke 14:15-24
There is a story I know from a book that many of you read in school. The book is about hunting raccoons. The story says that if you want to trap a raccoon, all you need is something shiny. You put this shiny object in a place with a very small opening. The raccoon will reach in and grab it, but because its fist is now full, it cannot pull its paw back. It could just let go of the object and go away, but it will not do this. It will never let go. You will find it the next morning, still holding on. While I cannot personally verify this method of trapping raccoons to be effective, I have seen the principle in action, not with raccoons but people. Every last one of us is holding on to something that is preventing us from being really happy. What we need to learn is kenosis. This beautiful poem from Philippians is showing the concept of kenosis. Kenosis means “emptiness” in Greek, and St. Paul is telling us about how Christ emptied himself. What does that mean? It means to not grasp onto anything.
Kenosis does not mean losing everything. It means losing everything except those things that no one can take away. Consider Christ’s journey of kenosis. He is God, but he came down to earth. He went from being all-powerful and perfectly happy, to being poor and suffering the difficulties of this world. When all his disciples left him, he let them go. When his enemies tried to kill him, he did not stop them. He never grasped at anything. No one could ever threaten Jesus Christ because he is God, and nothing anyone ever did to him could change that fact. He did not need to hold on tightly to his equality with the Father because he had complete confidence that this could never be taken away from him.
Perhaps you will think, “Kenosis is all well and good for Jesus, since he was God and nothing could ever change that, but for me, what do I have that I can depend on no matter what?” The same thing: not that we are God but that there is a God, who loves us, who has promised us good things. They might take our money, our safety, our health, even our life, but no one, no matter what, can take God away from us.
Psalm 22:26-32
Luke 14:15-24
There is a story I know from a book that many of you read in school. The book is about hunting raccoons. The story says that if you want to trap a raccoon, all you need is something shiny. You put this shiny object in a place with a very small opening. The raccoon will reach in and grab it, but because its fist is now full, it cannot pull its paw back. It could just let go of the object and go away, but it will not do this. It will never let go. You will find it the next morning, still holding on. While I cannot personally verify this method of trapping raccoons to be effective, I have seen the principle in action, not with raccoons but people. Every last one of us is holding on to something that is preventing us from being really happy. What we need to learn is kenosis. This beautiful poem from Philippians is showing the concept of kenosis. Kenosis means “emptiness” in Greek, and St. Paul is telling us about how Christ emptied himself. What does that mean? It means to not grasp onto anything.
Kenosis does not mean losing everything. It means losing everything except those things that no one can take away. Consider Christ’s journey of kenosis. He is God, but he came down to earth. He went from being all-powerful and perfectly happy, to being poor and suffering the difficulties of this world. When all his disciples left him, he let them go. When his enemies tried to kill him, he did not stop them. He never grasped at anything. No one could ever threaten Jesus Christ because he is God, and nothing anyone ever did to him could change that fact. He did not need to hold on tightly to his equality with the Father because he had complete confidence that this could never be taken away from him.
Perhaps you will think, “Kenosis is all well and good for Jesus, since he was God and nothing could ever change that, but for me, what do I have that I can depend on no matter what?” The same thing: not that we are God but that there is a God, who loves us, who has promised us good things. They might take our money, our safety, our health, even our life, but no one, no matter what, can take God away from us.
October 21, 2012 - Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Isaiah 53:10-11
Psalm 33:4-5, 18-20, 22
Hebrews 4:14-16
Mark 10:35-45
Jesus is once again reflecting in the Gospel today the reality of objective truth, that there is just this truth about who is going to sit in his right and who is going to sit on his left and he cannot just change that. This is a struggle that we have: objective truth. There is something that is good and something that is bad, and it is difficult for us to do what is good and is difficult for us to not do what is bad. What are we supposed to do about that? Our first inclination is that God should change the truth. He should change what is good and change what is bad so it fits us better, but we know that will not work because we know that what is good is good. Even things like loving each other, helping each other, serving each other: these are difficult too. It is not just that we have some disagreement with God about what morality should be. We actually have difficulty following the morality that we ourselves know to be right, so that even if we know that such and such a thing is objectively good, we cannot do it. Who would argue that we should not serve the poor? Yet how difficult it is to serve the poor, to forget ourselves, to stop being consumed by this culture of consumerism!
The solution to this problem we have where we know what is good but we do not want to do it, is provided for us in the Psalm today. As we repeated over and over, “Lord let your mercy be on us, as we place our trust in you.” This is a beautiful refrain. It sums up everything we need to know about our relationship with God. We have God's relationship with us; we have our relationship to God. The situation is what it is. The truth is the truth and cannot be changed, and we are not very good at following it. God loves us, and he wants us to be with him forever in heaven, so, for his part, he is going to be merciful. “Lord let your mercy be on us.” God is going to do that. I am not going to preach to God here today about being merciful, so we will just let him do that.
The second part is about us, “as we place our trust in you.” That has been the problem since the beginning: trusting in God. All the way back in the beginning, that is what the problem with the fruit was about. God said not to eat it, but Adam and Eve did not trust this command of God. They did not understand the command, so they decided not to obey. What they could have done is just trust. Eve hears that snake talking and decides to trust it instead. Anybody other than God we will trust. We will trust the people on the TV. We will trust politicians. We will trust whatever we happen to be thinking at any given moment. Anybody but God, we will trust. There is something wrong with that. We know there is. Somehow the one being we cannot trust, is the one who loves us perfectly.
If you are looking for someone to trust, what more should you look for than God? He is all-powerful, which means that no one will ever be able to stop him from fulfilling his promises. He is all knowing, which means that he never makes a mistake; he never does anything accidentally; he knows what he is doing; he knows the consequences, now and 2 trillion years from now; he knows what he is doing. Last of all, he loves us. He loves us so much that he died for us, as our first reading says in that interesting prophecy about the coming of Christ, “The Lord was pleased to crush him in infirmity, if he gives his life as an offering for sin” which, when that prophecy was given, who could have imagined how that would be fulfilled? That Jesus Christ would come and live and die for us.
Now, finally we have the proof that we can really trust God. That was the only thing that maybe was left. We know that God can do what he says is going to do, and we know that God knows the right way to do things. Those are both part of the essence of being God, but that last question remains, whose side is he really on? That question was in Eve’s mind, as she was looking at that tree. She remembered that God said not to eat it, but then she wondered, “Whose side is he on? Maybe he is just trying to keep me from becoming as smart and powerful as him?”
That the problem that is faced by James and John in the Gospel today. I am amazed by this question. They go to Jesus and ask him to trust them. They say, “Teacher we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” This is a loaded question. They cannot even say what it is yet, but they ask Jesus to trust them, and blindly promise to do whatever they ask. Jesus is not going to fall for that. It actually should be the other way around. God should come up to us and say to us, “I want you to do whatever I ask of you.” He does say that. God comes up to us, and he says, “I want you to do whatever I ask of you.” We are afraid. We do not want to trust that question. We think, “What if he asks something bad?” Of course, he will not. He is God. He knows what he is talking about. “I want you to do whatever I ask of you.” What if he asks us to do something that is bad for us? Whose side is he really on? He died for us. He is on our side. He is not going to use of us. He is not going to have us do something bad for us and then throw us away. He loves us, and not just in a group, not just collectively: he loves us individually, every single one of us. When someone who loves you like that comes up to you and says, “I want you to do whatever I ask of you”, your answer has to be yes. Not just because were afraid of him; not just because he is God so I better do it; but because we know that whatever he asks of us is going to be better than anything we could ever imagine for ourselves. When James and John ask to sit beside Jesus in the kingdom, they are really asking for love and respect. Jesus denied their request and then gave them everything they ever wanted.
Psalm 33:4-5, 18-20, 22
Hebrews 4:14-16
Mark 10:35-45
Jesus is once again reflecting in the Gospel today the reality of objective truth, that there is just this truth about who is going to sit in his right and who is going to sit on his left and he cannot just change that. This is a struggle that we have: objective truth. There is something that is good and something that is bad, and it is difficult for us to do what is good and is difficult for us to not do what is bad. What are we supposed to do about that? Our first inclination is that God should change the truth. He should change what is good and change what is bad so it fits us better, but we know that will not work because we know that what is good is good. Even things like loving each other, helping each other, serving each other: these are difficult too. It is not just that we have some disagreement with God about what morality should be. We actually have difficulty following the morality that we ourselves know to be right, so that even if we know that such and such a thing is objectively good, we cannot do it. Who would argue that we should not serve the poor? Yet how difficult it is to serve the poor, to forget ourselves, to stop being consumed by this culture of consumerism!
The solution to this problem we have where we know what is good but we do not want to do it, is provided for us in the Psalm today. As we repeated over and over, “Lord let your mercy be on us, as we place our trust in you.” This is a beautiful refrain. It sums up everything we need to know about our relationship with God. We have God's relationship with us; we have our relationship to God. The situation is what it is. The truth is the truth and cannot be changed, and we are not very good at following it. God loves us, and he wants us to be with him forever in heaven, so, for his part, he is going to be merciful. “Lord let your mercy be on us.” God is going to do that. I am not going to preach to God here today about being merciful, so we will just let him do that.
The second part is about us, “as we place our trust in you.” That has been the problem since the beginning: trusting in God. All the way back in the beginning, that is what the problem with the fruit was about. God said not to eat it, but Adam and Eve did not trust this command of God. They did not understand the command, so they decided not to obey. What they could have done is just trust. Eve hears that snake talking and decides to trust it instead. Anybody other than God we will trust. We will trust the people on the TV. We will trust politicians. We will trust whatever we happen to be thinking at any given moment. Anybody but God, we will trust. There is something wrong with that. We know there is. Somehow the one being we cannot trust, is the one who loves us perfectly.
If you are looking for someone to trust, what more should you look for than God? He is all-powerful, which means that no one will ever be able to stop him from fulfilling his promises. He is all knowing, which means that he never makes a mistake; he never does anything accidentally; he knows what he is doing; he knows the consequences, now and 2 trillion years from now; he knows what he is doing. Last of all, he loves us. He loves us so much that he died for us, as our first reading says in that interesting prophecy about the coming of Christ, “The Lord was pleased to crush him in infirmity, if he gives his life as an offering for sin” which, when that prophecy was given, who could have imagined how that would be fulfilled? That Jesus Christ would come and live and die for us.
Now, finally we have the proof that we can really trust God. That was the only thing that maybe was left. We know that God can do what he says is going to do, and we know that God knows the right way to do things. Those are both part of the essence of being God, but that last question remains, whose side is he really on? That question was in Eve’s mind, as she was looking at that tree. She remembered that God said not to eat it, but then she wondered, “Whose side is he on? Maybe he is just trying to keep me from becoming as smart and powerful as him?”
That the problem that is faced by James and John in the Gospel today. I am amazed by this question. They go to Jesus and ask him to trust them. They say, “Teacher we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” This is a loaded question. They cannot even say what it is yet, but they ask Jesus to trust them, and blindly promise to do whatever they ask. Jesus is not going to fall for that. It actually should be the other way around. God should come up to us and say to us, “I want you to do whatever I ask of you.” He does say that. God comes up to us, and he says, “I want you to do whatever I ask of you.” We are afraid. We do not want to trust that question. We think, “What if he asks something bad?” Of course, he will not. He is God. He knows what he is talking about. “I want you to do whatever I ask of you.” What if he asks us to do something that is bad for us? Whose side is he really on? He died for us. He is on our side. He is not going to use of us. He is not going to have us do something bad for us and then throw us away. He loves us, and not just in a group, not just collectively: he loves us individually, every single one of us. When someone who loves you like that comes up to you and says, “I want you to do whatever I ask of you”, your answer has to be yes. Not just because were afraid of him; not just because he is God so I better do it; but because we know that whatever he asks of us is going to be better than anything we could ever imagine for ourselves. When James and John ask to sit beside Jesus in the kingdom, they are really asking for love and respect. Jesus denied their request and then gave them everything they ever wanted.
September 6, 2012 - Thursday of the Twenty-second Week in Ordinary Time
1 Corinthians 3:18-23
Psalm 24:1-6
Luke 5:1-11
St. Peter would not have considered himself a wise man. He was a simple man, a fisherman, but he did think that he knew a thing or two about fishing. He at least would have claimed for himself this kind of practical wisdom. He knew what time of day to go fishing, and he knew where to fish. It says a lot that he was willing to listen to Jesus. He does not say, “Carpentry and preaching is your thing; leave the fishing to me.” He warns Jesus not to expect much, but obeys his command.
All night long, while they worked hard and caught nothing, perhaps they wondered were God was. Maybe they even prayed for fish and saw no answer to their prayers. They did not know that the night without fish was a preparation for the sign that Jesus would work. They did not know that their prayers, their desires, their needs would all be answered in the morning. During the hours of the night, if someone had come and said, “Now where is your God who promises to provide for you?” They would have had no answer.
One night, one year, 50 years: it does not matter. Just because God has not answered our prayers yet does not mean that he will not answer them. We do not know what he will do, in his own time. Are we so wise that we can tell God what he should be doing? We should let him know our needs and desires. He is our Father. We should tell him these things when we pray. But then, when we do not receive what we ask for within our timeframe, our attitude should not be that of the spoiled child who kicks and screams but of the trusting child who keeps asking while never doubting that they will receive.
The day will come when we receive what we ask for. Sometimes we will not wait long. Sometimes the whole night will pass, the opportunity will seem over, and then the answer comes. Everything belongs to us: the world, life, death, the present, the future, all belong to us, and we belong to God. I trust that God’s time is better than my time and his answer is better than what I asked for. Not better in a resigned-to-fate-I-suppose-that-is-better kind of way. Better in a I-would-not-exchange-it-for-what-I-thought-I-wanted-even-if-I-could kind of way.
Psalm 24:1-6
Luke 5:1-11
St. Peter would not have considered himself a wise man. He was a simple man, a fisherman, but he did think that he knew a thing or two about fishing. He at least would have claimed for himself this kind of practical wisdom. He knew what time of day to go fishing, and he knew where to fish. It says a lot that he was willing to listen to Jesus. He does not say, “Carpentry and preaching is your thing; leave the fishing to me.” He warns Jesus not to expect much, but obeys his command.
All night long, while they worked hard and caught nothing, perhaps they wondered were God was. Maybe they even prayed for fish and saw no answer to their prayers. They did not know that the night without fish was a preparation for the sign that Jesus would work. They did not know that their prayers, their desires, their needs would all be answered in the morning. During the hours of the night, if someone had come and said, “Now where is your God who promises to provide for you?” They would have had no answer.
One night, one year, 50 years: it does not matter. Just because God has not answered our prayers yet does not mean that he will not answer them. We do not know what he will do, in his own time. Are we so wise that we can tell God what he should be doing? We should let him know our needs and desires. He is our Father. We should tell him these things when we pray. But then, when we do not receive what we ask for within our timeframe, our attitude should not be that of the spoiled child who kicks and screams but of the trusting child who keeps asking while never doubting that they will receive.
The day will come when we receive what we ask for. Sometimes we will not wait long. Sometimes the whole night will pass, the opportunity will seem over, and then the answer comes. Everything belongs to us: the world, life, death, the present, the future, all belong to us, and we belong to God. I trust that God’s time is better than my time and his answer is better than what I asked for. Not better in a resigned-to-fate-I-suppose-that-is-better kind of way. Better in a I-would-not-exchange-it-for-what-I-thought-I-wanted-even-if-I-could kind of way.
August 24, 2012 - Feast of Saint Bartholomew, Apostle
Revelation 21:9-14
Psalm 145:10-13, 17-18
John 1:45-51
Jesus and Nathaniel bar-Tholomew have a sort of inside joke that we are not in on. Jesus says, “I saw you under the fig tree” and Nathaniel responds, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God; you are the King of Israel.” I like to imagine that one day Nathaniel was standing under a fig tree out in the wilderness and said to himself, “There is no one around. No one can see me now except the Lord himself.” And maybe this was a password between him and God. Perhaps he said in prayer one day, “God, when you send the Messiah, let him say these words to me so that I know who he is: ‘I saw you under the fig tree.’”
Whatever it was that was so special about that fig tree, Nathaniel proves Jesus right. He hears the words and he does not pause but answers immediately, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God; you are the King of Israel.” Here truly is a man without duplicity, a real Israelite. He asked for a sign; he got it; and he believed. There was no backtracking or wondering whether the sign was authentic or a coincidence. Jesus promises Nathaniel greater signs, but Nathaniel is satisfied with this little sign. He was a simple man, not in the sense of being stupid but in the sense that when he got exactly what he asked for, that was good enough.
How often did the scribes and Pharisees test Jesus! Yet they were so twisted that they convinced themselves that Jesus was working miracles and preaching repentance from sins by the power of the devil. How many miracles did the crowds see! Yet they could not see past the signs to the reality of who Jesus is. Nathaniel came to Jesus with his prejudices about people from Nazareth ("Can anything good come from Nazareth?"); he even seems a little angry when Jesus gives him a compliment: “How do you know me?”, he says, but as soon as he receives the sign he does not mince any words: “Rabbi, you are the Son of God; you are the King of Israel.”
Let us pray to St. Nathaniel bar-Tholomew for the grace of simple faith. He was an Apostle and a martyr. He spent the rest of his life preaching the Gospel and died a witness to the faith, all because he believed when Jesus told him, “I saw you under the fig tree.”
Psalm 145:10-13, 17-18
John 1:45-51
Jesus and Nathaniel bar-Tholomew have a sort of inside joke that we are not in on. Jesus says, “I saw you under the fig tree” and Nathaniel responds, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God; you are the King of Israel.” I like to imagine that one day Nathaniel was standing under a fig tree out in the wilderness and said to himself, “There is no one around. No one can see me now except the Lord himself.” And maybe this was a password between him and God. Perhaps he said in prayer one day, “God, when you send the Messiah, let him say these words to me so that I know who he is: ‘I saw you under the fig tree.’”
Whatever it was that was so special about that fig tree, Nathaniel proves Jesus right. He hears the words and he does not pause but answers immediately, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God; you are the King of Israel.” Here truly is a man without duplicity, a real Israelite. He asked for a sign; he got it; and he believed. There was no backtracking or wondering whether the sign was authentic or a coincidence. Jesus promises Nathaniel greater signs, but Nathaniel is satisfied with this little sign. He was a simple man, not in the sense of being stupid but in the sense that when he got exactly what he asked for, that was good enough.
How often did the scribes and Pharisees test Jesus! Yet they were so twisted that they convinced themselves that Jesus was working miracles and preaching repentance from sins by the power of the devil. How many miracles did the crowds see! Yet they could not see past the signs to the reality of who Jesus is. Nathaniel came to Jesus with his prejudices about people from Nazareth ("Can anything good come from Nazareth?"); he even seems a little angry when Jesus gives him a compliment: “How do you know me?”, he says, but as soon as he receives the sign he does not mince any words: “Rabbi, you are the Son of God; you are the King of Israel.”
Let us pray to St. Nathaniel bar-Tholomew for the grace of simple faith. He was an Apostle and a martyr. He spent the rest of his life preaching the Gospel and died a witness to the faith, all because he believed when Jesus told him, “I saw you under the fig tree.”
August 22, 2012 - Memorial of the Queenship of the Blessed Virgin Mary
Ezekiel 34:1-11
Psalm 23.1-3a, 3b-4, 5, 6 Resp. 1
Matthew 20.1-16
What the landowner does would illegal today. He would not be free to pay his employees in such an unjust fashion. The landowner says that he is being generous, which means that he considers the pay a gift, but pay is pay and a gift is a gift. So no one really earned their daily wage. It was a free gift just for showing up, like the grace of God. We cannot earn grace, not in the sense that we could turn to God and say, “You owe me.” The landowner does not pay the daily wage to those who did not work at all, but anyone who worked even a little receives the same generous gift.
The landowner assures the workers, “My friend, I am not cheating you.” It is he who is in danger of being cheated. Once people find out that he pays a day’s wage for one hour’s work, who will come early the next morning? But he is willing to be cheated by those who only work a very little. If we are trying to get by each day with the least amount of effort that is required of a Christian, God will accept that and pay us our daily wage. If we are trying to work ever so hard, impress God, and earn more grace than the next guy, God will accept that and pay us our daily wage. And he will give it to us last, just to show us that our efforts did not earn one more cent than the others.
If we only do a very little for God, he will give us a full measure of grace, so some people ask, why should we do more? Why should we love our neighbor more than we have to? Why should we pray more than we have to? Because we can. Because working in the vineyard of the Lord is the point, not the daily wage. What if we learned to love work, to love prayer, to love serving God, to love loving our neighbor? Eventually we stop being a day laborer and become a son or daughter who does not need to be recruited every morning and paid every evening. When God comes with a reward for us, it will not be like wages at the end of a day, but like a gift from a loving father to his child, completely unearned.
Psalm 23.1-3a, 3b-4, 5, 6 Resp. 1
Matthew 20.1-16
What the landowner does would illegal today. He would not be free to pay his employees in such an unjust fashion. The landowner says that he is being generous, which means that he considers the pay a gift, but pay is pay and a gift is a gift. So no one really earned their daily wage. It was a free gift just for showing up, like the grace of God. We cannot earn grace, not in the sense that we could turn to God and say, “You owe me.” The landowner does not pay the daily wage to those who did not work at all, but anyone who worked even a little receives the same generous gift.
The landowner assures the workers, “My friend, I am not cheating you.” It is he who is in danger of being cheated. Once people find out that he pays a day’s wage for one hour’s work, who will come early the next morning? But he is willing to be cheated by those who only work a very little. If we are trying to get by each day with the least amount of effort that is required of a Christian, God will accept that and pay us our daily wage. If we are trying to work ever so hard, impress God, and earn more grace than the next guy, God will accept that and pay us our daily wage. And he will give it to us last, just to show us that our efforts did not earn one more cent than the others.
If we only do a very little for God, he will give us a full measure of grace, so some people ask, why should we do more? Why should we love our neighbor more than we have to? Why should we pray more than we have to? Because we can. Because working in the vineyard of the Lord is the point, not the daily wage. What if we learned to love work, to love prayer, to love serving God, to love loving our neighbor? Eventually we stop being a day laborer and become a son or daughter who does not need to be recruited every morning and paid every evening. When God comes with a reward for us, it will not be like wages at the end of a day, but like a gift from a loving father to his child, completely unearned.
August 21, 2012 - Memorial of Saint Pius X, Pope
Ezekiel 28:1-10
Deuteronomy 32:26-28, 30, 35-36
Matthew 19:23-30
Why is it difficult for the rich to enter the Kingdom of God? Because the rich believe that they are God. Of course, here we are speaking of the rich in spirit. A person may have many possessions but see them as a stewardship for the good of all. The rich in spirit believe that they are gods, as it says in the first reading today: the prince of Tyre believed that he was a god. What does this mean? God provides for us. For a person to believe that they are a god, they must believe that they provide for themselves. The attitude being condemned today, the attitude which makes it so difficult for the rich to enter into the Kingdom of God, is the quintessential American attitude of self-reliance. If I rely on myself, why would I need to rely on God? If I built up what I possess today, why would I need to thank God for it? To enter the Kingdom of God is to allow God to be the king of my life.
It is said that Satan did not believe that he could surpass God, for he was very knowledgeable and intelligent. What he hoped to do was to take for himself rather than receive from God. He wanted to be independent of God, and this was his great sin. In the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve reached out and took for themselves what God had not yet offered them. Who knows? It is likely that they were supposed to eat the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil one day, but not until God served it to them.
The attitude that is necessary in order to enter the Kingdom of God is a willingness to receive a gift rather than try to grasp at it. The willingness to be dependent. The rich do not know how to do this; they have always provided for themselves. This attitude requires trust: trust that God will in fact provide what we need when we need it. In this matter, we must fight our inclination to depend on ourselves. God is the only one who can provide what we really need. What we provide for ourselves is just an illusion, but until we learn to stop trying to provide for ourselves and trust God, we will never be able to let go of the illusion and accept the real gift.
Deuteronomy 32:26-28, 30, 35-36
Matthew 19:23-30
Why is it difficult for the rich to enter the Kingdom of God? Because the rich believe that they are God. Of course, here we are speaking of the rich in spirit. A person may have many possessions but see them as a stewardship for the good of all. The rich in spirit believe that they are gods, as it says in the first reading today: the prince of Tyre believed that he was a god. What does this mean? God provides for us. For a person to believe that they are a god, they must believe that they provide for themselves. The attitude being condemned today, the attitude which makes it so difficult for the rich to enter into the Kingdom of God, is the quintessential American attitude of self-reliance. If I rely on myself, why would I need to rely on God? If I built up what I possess today, why would I need to thank God for it? To enter the Kingdom of God is to allow God to be the king of my life.
It is said that Satan did not believe that he could surpass God, for he was very knowledgeable and intelligent. What he hoped to do was to take for himself rather than receive from God. He wanted to be independent of God, and this was his great sin. In the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve reached out and took for themselves what God had not yet offered them. Who knows? It is likely that they were supposed to eat the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil one day, but not until God served it to them.
The attitude that is necessary in order to enter the Kingdom of God is a willingness to receive a gift rather than try to grasp at it. The willingness to be dependent. The rich do not know how to do this; they have always provided for themselves. This attitude requires trust: trust that God will in fact provide what we need when we need it. In this matter, we must fight our inclination to depend on ourselves. God is the only one who can provide what we really need. What we provide for ourselves is just an illusion, but until we learn to stop trying to provide for ourselves and trust God, we will never be able to let go of the illusion and accept the real gift.
August 20, 2012 - Memorial of Saint Bernard, Abbot and Doctor of the Church
Ezekiel 24:15-23
Deuteronomy 32:18-21
Matthew 19:16-22
God takes away Ezekiel’s wife and requires him to mourn in silence. Ezekiel is informed in the morning that his wife will die that evening, and he is commanded not to mourn. If a human did this, we would condemn them as most cruel. The loss of one’s wife is painful enough, but when God requires Ezekiel to continue prophesying, not merely in spite of his loss but using this loss as an example for the people, it seems too much.
The rich young man in the Gospel today is sad. He obeys all the commandments, but he wants more. Jesus tells him that that to be perfect he needs to sell everything he has. In comparison with Ezekiel, the sadness of the rich young man seems petty, but how would we feel if every possession were taken from us? If you went home today and discovered that you no longer had a home and would be homeless from now on, it would be tragic. But Jesus does not immediately require the young man to sell everything. When he merely asks for eternal life, Jesus points him to the commandments. It is only when he asks for more, that Jesus reveals how to be perfect. Tradition holds that he went home and sold everything, but he went home sad.
It would be easier if we believed in a good God and a bad God, and we could thank the good God for all the good and blame the bad God for all the bad, but this is not the truth. There is one God, and we must bring all the thanks and all the blame and lay it all at his feet. We can be angry with God and question God and even hate God, but none of that will change reality. In a disagreement between me and God, I not only know that God will win because he is stronger, but that God is right. How could I be right and God be wrong?
Ezekiel confronts his loss in the only way we can: acceptance of God’s will. It is a mystery why God did it, but if we believe in an all-knowing and all-loving God, we know for certain that it was all for their good. God loves Ezekiel and he loves Ezekiel’s wife. He does not do cruel things. We know this, even when it is difficult to believe.
Deuteronomy 32:18-21
Matthew 19:16-22
God takes away Ezekiel’s wife and requires him to mourn in silence. Ezekiel is informed in the morning that his wife will die that evening, and he is commanded not to mourn. If a human did this, we would condemn them as most cruel. The loss of one’s wife is painful enough, but when God requires Ezekiel to continue prophesying, not merely in spite of his loss but using this loss as an example for the people, it seems too much.
The rich young man in the Gospel today is sad. He obeys all the commandments, but he wants more. Jesus tells him that that to be perfect he needs to sell everything he has. In comparison with Ezekiel, the sadness of the rich young man seems petty, but how would we feel if every possession were taken from us? If you went home today and discovered that you no longer had a home and would be homeless from now on, it would be tragic. But Jesus does not immediately require the young man to sell everything. When he merely asks for eternal life, Jesus points him to the commandments. It is only when he asks for more, that Jesus reveals how to be perfect. Tradition holds that he went home and sold everything, but he went home sad.
It would be easier if we believed in a good God and a bad God, and we could thank the good God for all the good and blame the bad God for all the bad, but this is not the truth. There is one God, and we must bring all the thanks and all the blame and lay it all at his feet. We can be angry with God and question God and even hate God, but none of that will change reality. In a disagreement between me and God, I not only know that God will win because he is stronger, but that God is right. How could I be right and God be wrong?
Ezekiel confronts his loss in the only way we can: acceptance of God’s will. It is a mystery why God did it, but if we believe in an all-knowing and all-loving God, we know for certain that it was all for their good. God loves Ezekiel and he loves Ezekiel’s wife. He does not do cruel things. We know this, even when it is difficult to believe.
August 12, 2012 - Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
1 Kings 19:4-8
Psalm 34:2-9
Ephesians 4:30-5:2
John 6:41-51
Nothing is impossible if God wants us to do it. God will provide what we need so that we can do what he wants us to do. He wanted the Israelites to wander in the desert for 40 years, so he provided bread that fell from the sky. He wanted Elijah to walk to Mount Horeb so he provided cake in the desert. The Israelites complained that the manna lacked variety after 40 years, but it was enough. The angel of God made sure that Elijah ate and drank enough for his journey. God has provided what we needed to do what he wants us to do.
Sometimes I think that I do not have enough time, but enough time for what? God has given us all the time in the world, 60 minutes every hour. It is enough time to do what God wants you to do. Perhaps I cannot impress in that amount of time, perhaps I cannot succeed at some self-appointed task in that amount of time, but it is plenty of time. What does God tell us to do? Love him and love our neighbor. How much time do we need to do that? None at all. We do that in the moment. We work at a task, maybe we finish, maybe not, but if we work with all our strength in the moment that is all we are responsible for.
Jesus tells us in another place that we ought to look to the flowers of the field that live in the moment and are provided for by God. They do not have bank accounts. They are not racing against time. They grow and then they die. In every moment they have enough to do what God wants them to do. We always have enough to do what God wants us to do. We might not see tomorrow’s sufficiency today, and we might not have enough to do what we want to do, and we certainly do not have enough to do what the world tells us we ought to do, but we do have enough right now to do what God wants us to do.
St. Paul tries to spell that out in the letter to the Ephesians today. Get rid of bitterness. Get rid of fury. Get rid of anger. Get rid of shouting. Get rid of mocking. Get rid of all evil desires. If we do that, we will be amazed at how much energy and time were consumed by them. Be kind to each other. Be compassionate. Forgive one another. Be imitators of God. So we have to ask ourselves whether, right now, in this moment, we have everything we need to do all that, and the answer is yes. Life is not easy. In fact, God promised Adam when he ate the fruit that it was going to be hard from now on and end in death. That is our lot. Heaven is our future. Right now we have enough to love other people.
So when God gives us something above and beyond our daily bread, our daily enough, we ought to respond by asking a simple question: “What is this for?” Is it just a little present to be enjoyed in the moment, to make us happy. Is it a gift for someone else that we are responsible for, given to us so that we can give it to another? Is it part of someone else’s daily bread?
And so what about the gift that Jesus gives today in the Gospel, or rather promises to give and then does give later? “The bread that I will give”, he says “is my flesh for the life of the world.” So he tells us what he is going to give, and then he tells us the purpose. He is going to give his flesh. And he gave his flesh, his Body and Blood. All of us are gathered here today to receive this gift. We could stay home and read the Bible, and we could listen to somebody preach on TV, and we could gather together at a park, and there are coffee and donuts at any number of fine restaurants in this city. The reason we are gathered here right now is to receive a gift: the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ.
And the purpose of this gift, according to Jesus, is the life of the world. What sort of life? Eternal life. When we eat this living Bread and drink this living Wine, the life is in us and we become alive. Normal bread and wine simply keeps us alive, staves off death another day, but this living Bread and living Wine imparts life to us that we previously lacked. It is the final piece of enough. Before we had enough to do what we could do, but, with this gift, we now have enough to do something more, to be imitators of God, to become like Christ.
An old proverb says: “when you sit down to eat a meal with a king, before you reach out your hand and take the food, observe carefully all the different dishes, the quality and the quantity, knowing that you will have to provide the same kind of meal.” We come to a meal provided by a king, our Lord Jesus Christ. Every day we approach the altar and partake of this meal. So, let us take a moment to consider the kind of meal before us, knowing that we will have to provide the same.
It seems to be just bread and wine, but in reality it is the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ. Our king provides himself for the meal. He gave his Body and Blood on the Cross. Before we receive it, we ought to know that receiving obliges us to provide the same. He has given us his Body and Blood, so we must give him our body and blood, our very selves. Some Christians do this in martyrdom. Their blood is spilled and their bodies are beaten and they give themselves to Christ. There are some martyrs dying right now. Every day 500 Christians are martyred. Every day 500 Christians fulfill in their own bodies the suffering of Jesus Christ. Who knows if we will be called to be martyrs someday! In the meantime, we give ourselves completely according to the witness of the martyrs. We receive the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ and every day we return the gift by using our strength, our time, our possessions, and everything we have been given to love God and serve him, to love other people and serve them.
Psalm 34:2-9
Ephesians 4:30-5:2
John 6:41-51
Nothing is impossible if God wants us to do it. God will provide what we need so that we can do what he wants us to do. He wanted the Israelites to wander in the desert for 40 years, so he provided bread that fell from the sky. He wanted Elijah to walk to Mount Horeb so he provided cake in the desert. The Israelites complained that the manna lacked variety after 40 years, but it was enough. The angel of God made sure that Elijah ate and drank enough for his journey. God has provided what we needed to do what he wants us to do.
Sometimes I think that I do not have enough time, but enough time for what? God has given us all the time in the world, 60 minutes every hour. It is enough time to do what God wants you to do. Perhaps I cannot impress in that amount of time, perhaps I cannot succeed at some self-appointed task in that amount of time, but it is plenty of time. What does God tell us to do? Love him and love our neighbor. How much time do we need to do that? None at all. We do that in the moment. We work at a task, maybe we finish, maybe not, but if we work with all our strength in the moment that is all we are responsible for.
Jesus tells us in another place that we ought to look to the flowers of the field that live in the moment and are provided for by God. They do not have bank accounts. They are not racing against time. They grow and then they die. In every moment they have enough to do what God wants them to do. We always have enough to do what God wants us to do. We might not see tomorrow’s sufficiency today, and we might not have enough to do what we want to do, and we certainly do not have enough to do what the world tells us we ought to do, but we do have enough right now to do what God wants us to do.
St. Paul tries to spell that out in the letter to the Ephesians today. Get rid of bitterness. Get rid of fury. Get rid of anger. Get rid of shouting. Get rid of mocking. Get rid of all evil desires. If we do that, we will be amazed at how much energy and time were consumed by them. Be kind to each other. Be compassionate. Forgive one another. Be imitators of God. So we have to ask ourselves whether, right now, in this moment, we have everything we need to do all that, and the answer is yes. Life is not easy. In fact, God promised Adam when he ate the fruit that it was going to be hard from now on and end in death. That is our lot. Heaven is our future. Right now we have enough to love other people.
So when God gives us something above and beyond our daily bread, our daily enough, we ought to respond by asking a simple question: “What is this for?” Is it just a little present to be enjoyed in the moment, to make us happy. Is it a gift for someone else that we are responsible for, given to us so that we can give it to another? Is it part of someone else’s daily bread?
And so what about the gift that Jesus gives today in the Gospel, or rather promises to give and then does give later? “The bread that I will give”, he says “is my flesh for the life of the world.” So he tells us what he is going to give, and then he tells us the purpose. He is going to give his flesh. And he gave his flesh, his Body and Blood. All of us are gathered here today to receive this gift. We could stay home and read the Bible, and we could listen to somebody preach on TV, and we could gather together at a park, and there are coffee and donuts at any number of fine restaurants in this city. The reason we are gathered here right now is to receive a gift: the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ.
And the purpose of this gift, according to Jesus, is the life of the world. What sort of life? Eternal life. When we eat this living Bread and drink this living Wine, the life is in us and we become alive. Normal bread and wine simply keeps us alive, staves off death another day, but this living Bread and living Wine imparts life to us that we previously lacked. It is the final piece of enough. Before we had enough to do what we could do, but, with this gift, we now have enough to do something more, to be imitators of God, to become like Christ.
An old proverb says: “when you sit down to eat a meal with a king, before you reach out your hand and take the food, observe carefully all the different dishes, the quality and the quantity, knowing that you will have to provide the same kind of meal.” We come to a meal provided by a king, our Lord Jesus Christ. Every day we approach the altar and partake of this meal. So, let us take a moment to consider the kind of meal before us, knowing that we will have to provide the same.
It seems to be just bread and wine, but in reality it is the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ. Our king provides himself for the meal. He gave his Body and Blood on the Cross. Before we receive it, we ought to know that receiving obliges us to provide the same. He has given us his Body and Blood, so we must give him our body and blood, our very selves. Some Christians do this in martyrdom. Their blood is spilled and their bodies are beaten and they give themselves to Christ. There are some martyrs dying right now. Every day 500 Christians are martyred. Every day 500 Christians fulfill in their own bodies the suffering of Jesus Christ. Who knows if we will be called to be martyrs someday! In the meantime, we give ourselves completely according to the witness of the martyrs. We receive the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ and every day we return the gift by using our strength, our time, our possessions, and everything we have been given to love God and serve him, to love other people and serve them.
June 8, 2012 - Friday of the Ninth Week in Ordinary Time
2 Timothy 3:10-17
Psalm 119:157, 160-161, 165-166, 168
Mark 12:35-37
There is something about 3.16. Everyone knows John 3.16: For God so loved the world…, but for some reason, and it must surely be a coincidence the sixteenth verse give or take of the third chapter of many of the books in the Bible is very important. Genesis is 3.15 is the first announcement of Christ, called the protoevangelion; Exodus 3.14 is where God tells Moses his Name: “I am who am.”; Matthew 3.16-17 is pretty important: “This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased.” Mark 3.16-19 has the names of the Twelve Apostles. Luke 3.16 is John’s announcement of the coming of the Lord and the Holy Spirit. Just those four 3.16’s from each Gospel pretty much sum up Christianity.
Now today we have another great 3.16 in front of us for the first reading: 2 Timothy 3.16: “Every Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for an education in righteousness.” This is a powerful statement that we cannot pass by. Every Scripture is inspired by God, literally it says “Godbreathed”. Every Scripture is like the breath of God out of his own mouth. The same breath that gave life to the clay man who became Adam. The same breath that the prophets heard, that Elijah heard as a still, small whisper. Every Scripture contains that breath. That means that it is alive.
And every Scripture is useful. That might be hard to believe if you have ever ready Leviticus or Numbers, but it is true. Useful how? St. Paul has four things, and they are not random but they form a progression. This is how Scripture changes us: first it teaches us something; then comes reproof, we see something in our lives which is contrary to what we have learned; then comes correction, we learn how to stop doing whatever sin or fault is contrary to Scripture. Last comes an education in righteousness, because Christianity is not just about “not being bad”, which would be really boring; Christianity and every Scripture is about who we could be.
Every Scripture is useful, if we will decide to use them. The 3.16’s perhaps more than the others, but every Scripture. We do not pick and choose our own collection of beliefs out of the Bible. We must not change the Scripture; we have to let the Scripture change us.
Psalm 119:157, 160-161, 165-166, 168
Mark 12:35-37
There is something about 3.16. Everyone knows John 3.16: For God so loved the world…, but for some reason, and it must surely be a coincidence the sixteenth verse give or take of the third chapter of many of the books in the Bible is very important. Genesis is 3.15 is the first announcement of Christ, called the protoevangelion; Exodus 3.14 is where God tells Moses his Name: “I am who am.”; Matthew 3.16-17 is pretty important: “This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased.” Mark 3.16-19 has the names of the Twelve Apostles. Luke 3.16 is John’s announcement of the coming of the Lord and the Holy Spirit. Just those four 3.16’s from each Gospel pretty much sum up Christianity.
Now today we have another great 3.16 in front of us for the first reading: 2 Timothy 3.16: “Every Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for an education in righteousness.” This is a powerful statement that we cannot pass by. Every Scripture is inspired by God, literally it says “Godbreathed”. Every Scripture is like the breath of God out of his own mouth. The same breath that gave life to the clay man who became Adam. The same breath that the prophets heard, that Elijah heard as a still, small whisper. Every Scripture contains that breath. That means that it is alive.
And every Scripture is useful. That might be hard to believe if you have ever ready Leviticus or Numbers, but it is true. Useful how? St. Paul has four things, and they are not random but they form a progression. This is how Scripture changes us: first it teaches us something; then comes reproof, we see something in our lives which is contrary to what we have learned; then comes correction, we learn how to stop doing whatever sin or fault is contrary to Scripture. Last comes an education in righteousness, because Christianity is not just about “not being bad”, which would be really boring; Christianity and every Scripture is about who we could be.
Every Scripture is useful, if we will decide to use them. The 3.16’s perhaps more than the others, but every Scripture. We do not pick and choose our own collection of beliefs out of the Bible. We must not change the Scripture; we have to let the Scripture change us.
May 23, 2012 - Wednesday of the Seventh Week of Easter.
Acts 20:28-38
Psalm 68:29-30, 33-36
John 17:11-19
Eventually we all have to turn over the fruits of our hard work to someone else. Whether you have spent forty years building up a company, sixty years maintaining a home, or eighteen years guiding and protecting a child, when the inevitable moment arrives that you have to let someone else take over, it is not possible to simply let go in an instant.
We see this emotion in St. Paul, in the first reading, and Jesus, in the Gospel; they are both saying goodbye. They have both been preparing people for years and the end of the preparation is near. God’s will called each of them to something else. They are ready to do the will of the Father, but they each take one last moment to say goodbye.
Jesus offers his goodbye in the form of a prayer to the Father. He is praying to the Father, but he knows that the disciples are listening. He prays that the Father will consecrate his disciples in the truth. He contrasts being consecrated in the truth to being from the world. His disciples will have to live in the world in order to convert the world, but he does not want them to be from the world. Instead, he wants them to be in the truth.
Jesus knows that he is leaving us in a dangerous place. The world is a dangerous place for a Christian. More dangerous for what it does to our soul than what it might do to our bodies. He knows that he has prepared his disciples. He has given them the greatest possible weapon against the world: truth. He has told his disciples the truth, but he knows that that will not be enough. He has prepared them as well as possible, but they need more. He asks the Father to wash them in the truth, until every lie is gone. Every false promise of happiness that the world tells us is destroyed by the truth that our happiness is in God alone.
If Jesus was willing to leave the Church in the hands of his eleven Apostles, we can surely give up control over anything we have taken care of. We do not need to fear. Not because the world is not dangerous (it is dangerous), nor because our preparation has been perfect (it has not been perfect), but because we have a Father in heaven who is guiding all of history to his good purpose.
Psalm 68:29-30, 33-36
John 17:11-19
Eventually we all have to turn over the fruits of our hard work to someone else. Whether you have spent forty years building up a company, sixty years maintaining a home, or eighteen years guiding and protecting a child, when the inevitable moment arrives that you have to let someone else take over, it is not possible to simply let go in an instant.
We see this emotion in St. Paul, in the first reading, and Jesus, in the Gospel; they are both saying goodbye. They have both been preparing people for years and the end of the preparation is near. God’s will called each of them to something else. They are ready to do the will of the Father, but they each take one last moment to say goodbye.
Jesus offers his goodbye in the form of a prayer to the Father. He is praying to the Father, but he knows that the disciples are listening. He prays that the Father will consecrate his disciples in the truth. He contrasts being consecrated in the truth to being from the world. His disciples will have to live in the world in order to convert the world, but he does not want them to be from the world. Instead, he wants them to be in the truth.
Jesus knows that he is leaving us in a dangerous place. The world is a dangerous place for a Christian. More dangerous for what it does to our soul than what it might do to our bodies. He knows that he has prepared his disciples. He has given them the greatest possible weapon against the world: truth. He has told his disciples the truth, but he knows that that will not be enough. He has prepared them as well as possible, but they need more. He asks the Father to wash them in the truth, until every lie is gone. Every false promise of happiness that the world tells us is destroyed by the truth that our happiness is in God alone.
If Jesus was willing to leave the Church in the hands of his eleven Apostles, we can surely give up control over anything we have taken care of. We do not need to fear. Not because the world is not dangerous (it is dangerous), nor because our preparation has been perfect (it has not been perfect), but because we have a Father in heaven who is guiding all of history to his good purpose.
April 23, 2012 - Monday of the Third Week of Easter
Today's Readings
The false witnesses reveal their problem with St. Stephen today. According to them, “This man never stops saying things.” I am sure they wish that he would stop saying things, but he never did. Really, the whole point of the killing him, making him the first martyr for the faith, was to force him to stop saying things.
A preacher is required to say things that people may not enjoy hearing. If I came with my own gospel, I promise you, it would be a pleasant and easy gospel, every part of it, because the words I say are directed equally to me as they are to anyone else, but if I preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ, I cannot stop saying things that upset people, because Jesus often said things that upset people.
A crowd crosses the Sea of Galilee to find Jesus. Does he welcome them with open arms? No. He informs the crowd that they are only following him for selfish reasons. They were filled with bread and fish, and they would like always to have abundant food that they did not need to work for. They ought to have seen the miracle as a sign of who Jesus is. Once someone understands who Jesus is, they cannot leave him. Like St. Peter who, after this crowd abandons Jesus, and Jesus asks whether he will go too said, “To whom shall we go? You have the words of everlasting life.”
Jesus does not reject the crowd, but he does push back against them until they leave in frustration. By leaving, they prove that he is right. Nothing that Jesus said should have been able to make them upset with him. They were in no position to judge the words of Jesus, but they do judge him and decide against him. They would have preferred that he keep quiet and keep the bread and fish coming, but he insisted on saying things. If he had to keep saying things, he should have said comfortable, easy things, but he said difficult, confusing things instead.
Who are we to judge the Gospel? We cannot agree with Jesus when he says one thing and disagree with him later. The work of God is to believe in the one whom he has sent. Once we do that, the only logical action is to believe everything that Jesus ever said even if we are sure that it cannot be right.
The false witnesses reveal their problem with St. Stephen today. According to them, “This man never stops saying things.” I am sure they wish that he would stop saying things, but he never did. Really, the whole point of the killing him, making him the first martyr for the faith, was to force him to stop saying things.
A preacher is required to say things that people may not enjoy hearing. If I came with my own gospel, I promise you, it would be a pleasant and easy gospel, every part of it, because the words I say are directed equally to me as they are to anyone else, but if I preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ, I cannot stop saying things that upset people, because Jesus often said things that upset people.
A crowd crosses the Sea of Galilee to find Jesus. Does he welcome them with open arms? No. He informs the crowd that they are only following him for selfish reasons. They were filled with bread and fish, and they would like always to have abundant food that they did not need to work for. They ought to have seen the miracle as a sign of who Jesus is. Once someone understands who Jesus is, they cannot leave him. Like St. Peter who, after this crowd abandons Jesus, and Jesus asks whether he will go too said, “To whom shall we go? You have the words of everlasting life.”
Jesus does not reject the crowd, but he does push back against them until they leave in frustration. By leaving, they prove that he is right. Nothing that Jesus said should have been able to make them upset with him. They were in no position to judge the words of Jesus, but they do judge him and decide against him. They would have preferred that he keep quiet and keep the bread and fish coming, but he insisted on saying things. If he had to keep saying things, he should have said comfortable, easy things, but he said difficult, confusing things instead.
Who are we to judge the Gospel? We cannot agree with Jesus when he says one thing and disagree with him later. The work of God is to believe in the one whom he has sent. Once we do that, the only logical action is to believe everything that Jesus ever said even if we are sure that it cannot be right.
March 31, 2012 - Saturday of the Fifth Week of Lent
Today's Readings
It is so sad to see the convoluted logic of the Pharisees. Jesus is healing people. Jesus is converting sinners back to following God. Jesus is raising dead people back to life. The Pharisees are worried how they can put a stop to all of it. It will be very difficult. His life, his words, and his miracles are all very convincing. Of course, the Pharisees could have just been convinced. If they had just believed that Jesus was the Messiah, they would not have had to work so hard to prevent others from believing.
They seem more worried with preventing the Romans from coming and destroying Jerusalem than with whether Jesus was actually the Messiah. Their worries are not unfounded. Forty years later, a false Messiah would start a war with the Romans, and Jerusalem would be destroyed, and the Jews forced to leave. The Pharisees were right about the consequences of a false Messiah, but they seem to have lost real hope in the coming of the actual Messiah.
They had become cynical, whereas a Christian needs to be trusting. They had lost hope, whereas a Christian lives by hope. They loved themselves and their positions and their situation, whereas a Christian must love God above all things and their neighbors as themselves. The words of Caiaphas, “it is better for you that one man should die instead of the people” are said with the lowest intention: to betray an innocent man because his words and actions might not be looked upon favorably by the persecuting Romans. Caiaphas has turned into a collaborator.
However, the words of Caiaphas are also, St. John tells us, a prophecy. Caiaphas was the high priest, and God would use him for God’s own purposes. It is better for us that an innocent man should die in our place. It is better, for us, that Jesus gave up his life to save ours. It is better, not because we should be such cowards that we gladly see someone else die for our sins, but because if we died for our own sins, we would not have risen again, but when Jesus died for the sins of the whole world, the innocent for the guilty, he had the power to lay his life down and take it up again. It is better for us that an innocent man should die instead of the whole world, but only if that innocent man can, by his death, destroy death.
It is so sad to see the convoluted logic of the Pharisees. Jesus is healing people. Jesus is converting sinners back to following God. Jesus is raising dead people back to life. The Pharisees are worried how they can put a stop to all of it. It will be very difficult. His life, his words, and his miracles are all very convincing. Of course, the Pharisees could have just been convinced. If they had just believed that Jesus was the Messiah, they would not have had to work so hard to prevent others from believing.
They seem more worried with preventing the Romans from coming and destroying Jerusalem than with whether Jesus was actually the Messiah. Their worries are not unfounded. Forty years later, a false Messiah would start a war with the Romans, and Jerusalem would be destroyed, and the Jews forced to leave. The Pharisees were right about the consequences of a false Messiah, but they seem to have lost real hope in the coming of the actual Messiah.
They had become cynical, whereas a Christian needs to be trusting. They had lost hope, whereas a Christian lives by hope. They loved themselves and their positions and their situation, whereas a Christian must love God above all things and their neighbors as themselves. The words of Caiaphas, “it is better for you that one man should die instead of the people” are said with the lowest intention: to betray an innocent man because his words and actions might not be looked upon favorably by the persecuting Romans. Caiaphas has turned into a collaborator.
However, the words of Caiaphas are also, St. John tells us, a prophecy. Caiaphas was the high priest, and God would use him for God’s own purposes. It is better for us that an innocent man should die in our place. It is better, for us, that Jesus gave up his life to save ours. It is better, not because we should be such cowards that we gladly see someone else die for our sins, but because if we died for our own sins, we would not have risen again, but when Jesus died for the sins of the whole world, the innocent for the guilty, he had the power to lay his life down and take it up again. It is better for us that an innocent man should die instead of the whole world, but only if that innocent man can, by his death, destroy death.
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