Knock, knock, knocking on heaven’s door – a homily for the 21st Sunday in Ordinary Time

HOMILY FOR THE 21ST SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME, YEAR C

It is a human tendency to want to exclude those with whom we find disagreement. It grates us to be inclusive of people whose thinking, beliefs, culture or lifestyle differs from our own. Sadly, this human trait has perpetuated like a bad genetic strain from one human generation to the next. In today’s Gospel, Jesus says, “Enough is enough! This thinking of exclusion must end.”

Those Jewish people of Jesus’ time who believed in an afterlife, believed that only the Jewish people would have eternal salvation. Jesus tells them, “Don’t get too cocky.” The net of God’s love and mercy is thrown far wider than the Jewish faith, so much so, that it will be those they exclude who will be the first to enter heaven, long before the Jewish people. God’s infinite mercy and love is far greater than our own feeble-minded , finite human concepts of mercy and love. However, this is only a part of the gospel lesson today. The real lesson lies in this very striking passage from the gospel.

Jesus tells the people that they will come knocking on God’s door saying, “Lord, open the door for us.” God will look at them and reply, “Go away, I do not know where you are from.” Then the people will say, “We ate and drank in your company and you taught us.” Then God will say, “I do not know who you are and where you are from. Depart from me all you evil doers!” When we encounter God face to face, will God know who we are? Rather than waste our time deciding who or who will not enter the Kingdom of Heaven, a decision that is not ours to make, the real question is when we knock on God’s door, will we be able to enter the Kingdom of heaven?

About this time in 2004, I was comfortably serving as a deacon a large southwestern suburban parish, when I received a call from the Office of the Archbishop that Archbishop Flynn assigned me to be the parish life administrator of St. Stephen’s in South Minneapolis. While most parishes in the Archdiocese are for the most part mainstream Catholic parishes, both Archbishop Roach and Archbishop Flynn believed all Catholics must have a spiritual home. So there was established specialty parishes for those Catholics who were more rigidly orthodox in their faith and parishes for those Catholics who were by and large unorthodox in their faith. St. Stephen’s was counted among the latter.

The parish mission statement of St. Stephen’s at that time was that the parish was a spiritual circus tent under which all were welcome. No one was excluded from the parish. The parish was diversely made up of homeless people, the developmentally disabled, gays and lesbians, ex-priests, ex-nuns, ex-offenders, prostitutes, hurting Catholics who were either on their way out of the Catholic Church or reentering the Catholic Church after having been away from the faith for a long time, and the disenfranchised of some mainstream Protestant denominations. I am now beginning my 40th year in church ministry and St. Stephen’s was, by and large, one of the most challenging, perplexing, fascinating, frustrating, and at the same time most rewarding of my parish assignments. The parish was no paradise, no parish ever is, and there were times at the end of the week when I would sometimes sigh and say, “I think we are still Catholic.”

I remember one Sunday after Mass, a man telling me his story. He was gay. He grew up in a large, strict Irish Catholic family. He was educated as a Catholic from time he was in first grade till he graduated from college. He told me tried to heterosexualize himself for many years, dating girls, and even getting married, trying to fight his sexual orientation. However, he could not live a lie. Overwhelmed with tremendous guilt, he fell into a deep, dark depression and despaired to the point of dying by suicide, when he walked into the doors of St. Stephen.  Within this very diverse community of faith he encountered Jesus, who loved him and accepted him as he was, a gay man. He said that this parish saved his life. This man, whose soul had been torn spiritually and emotionally asunder for so many years, finally found peace within himself and with God. He knocked on God’s door and God knew who he was, welcomed him and bid him enter.

Who will be admitted or not be admitted to heaven is a choice that belongs only to God. Would we not best spend the time that we have becoming spiritually the person God created us to be? This requires us to honestly discern and accept who we truly are. Have we grown authentically into the person God created us to be or are we living a lie?

This kind of discerning is like standing in front of a spiritual mirror and one by one removing all the illusions, delusions, and deceptions in which we have been clothed until we stand spiritually naked. To see ourselves as we truly are in that mirror is an unpleasant and shocking experience. It is only when we have spiritually stripped ourselves and clothed ourselves only in humility, that we are prepared to knock on the door of God. And, as we knock upon the door of God, be equally grateful that the mercy and love that God extends to others is there for us, too!

I have come to sow division on the earth. What happened to peace and good will? – a homily for the 20th Sunday in Ordinary Time

sim5var36Did we hear Jesus correctly in the Gospel? Jesus tells the people, “Do you think that I have come to establish peace on the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division.” I remember at Christmas, the angels singing, “Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to people of good will!” Jesus’ birth was to bring peace to a humanity afflicted with illness, pestilence, hatred and violence. Yet today, Jesus is saying that it is not peace he is to establish on earth but division. How does this make any sense?

In our second reading, the author of the letter to the Hebrews writes that human division is a product of Sin. If we are to find peace of which the angels sang, our eyes must be constantly focused on Jesus, who is the leader and the perfecter of our faith. Division, calamity, and destruction that we experience in the world is the result of human eyes focused not on Jesus, but focused on ourselves.

My dad grew up in the mountains of western Pennsylvania and he was fond of telling a story about two women who grew up in those mountains. The women were unmarried, sisters, living together, and  faithful members of their Baptist church. They read the Bible daily. However the two women also had a weakness for  chewing tobacco. Sundays always found them in the front pew of their little church. One Sunday, there was a visiting minister who gave one of those fire and brimstone sermons on the evils afflicting humanity. He preached vehemently about the sin of dancing. The one sister remarked to the other, “Oh, he is a fine preacher.” “Amen to Jesus!” the other sister responded. Then the preacher took up the evils of alcohol. “Oh, he’s ablaze with the Holy Spirit!” said one sister to the other. “Give it to them sinners, Reverend!” the other sister shouted. Then, the preacher began to preach against the evils of tobacco. One of the sisters spat some tobacco juice on the floor and complained, “Well, now he’s just meddling.”

As this story illustrates, while we may think our eyes are fixed on Jesus, our eyes are often only fixed on ourselves. Even the most well-intentioned of us struggle to drag our eyes away from ourselves with all of our own prejudices, and our own preconceived ideas of righteousness. If our gaze is fixed only on ourselves, we only manifest and perpetuate the sin and evils that have afflicted humanity from the time of Adam and Eve.

In today’s gospel, Jesus acknowledges that the way of God is in direct contradiction to the ways of the world and thus there will be division. Jesus makes it clear that if we, as his disciples, fix our gaze on him, our lives will be lived in direct contradiction to that of the world. The world tells us that we are to destroy our enemies, “an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.” Jesus says in response to the world, “No, that is not the way of God. The law mandated by God is, “love your enemies, pray for those who persecute you.” The world tells us that we are to place ourselves first before others. Jesus says in response to the world, “No! We are to be as servants to one another. The last shall be first and the first shall be last.” The world tells us that we must preserve our lives at all cost. And, Jesus says in direct contradiction to the world, “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” In  Matthew’s Gospel, we hear that when Peter pleads with Jesus not to go to Jerusalem and so avoid dying, Jesus turns on Peter saying, “Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.” To think as God thinks and live as God intends us to live will place us in direct contradiction to those who think only as human beings do. There will be division.

May we take to heart the words of the second reading, today. Let us rid ourselves of every burden and sin that clings to us, keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus who is the leader and the perfecter of our faith. In focusing our lives on Jesus,  we will find the peace of which the angels sang on Christmas morn. For it is only in Jesus that we will find true joy and happiness.

Knocking on heaven’s door – a homily for the 17th Sunday in Ordinary Time.

dore jesus teachingin the synagogue(Jesus teaching in the synagogue. Woodcut by Gustave Dore)

The Our Father is a prayer that is central to Christianity and over the centuries much was been said, preached, and written about this perfect prayer. What I would like to focus on today are the words in the words in the gospel in which Jesus says, “ask and your will receive, seek and you will find, knock and the door will be open to you.”

During my diaconal formation, I spent 5 hours every Wednesday for 9 months as a chaplain in a Twin City hospital of  400 beds. I remember visiting a very elderly man one night. He was despondent and very angry.  I knew the visit was going to be short. Before I left the room, I asked him if he wanted to pray. He glared at me and responded with a very emphatic, “Hell, no!” I asked him if it was okay for me to pray for him. His reply to me was, “Do whatever you want, it won’t do any good!” Respecting his wishes, I left the room and later that night prayed for him. At one time or another in our lives, all of us have harbored similar sentiments as that elderly man.

Yet, Jesus tells us in today’s gospel, “ask and you will receive, seek and you will find.” It’s not that I don’t believe Jesus, but my experience has been that for which I asked God I did not receive, and that for which I asked God to seek has not been found. If that is your experience in life too, know that even Jesus did not always get his prayers answered.  In the passion accounts of both Mark and Matthew’s gospels, Jesus prays in desperation to God the Father that the cup of his passion and death be taken from him. God remains silent. It is only in Luke’s Passion that God sends an angel to comfort Jesus. However, Jesus still dies in agony. When Jesus cries out from the cross, “My God, my God why have you forsaken me?” again, God remains silent. Is our God capricious, mean-spirited, temperamental and unfeeling? The answer to this question is an emphatic no. I think some of the problem we have in experiencing prayers not being answered is how we think about prayer.

Prayer is not meant to manipulate God into doing something for us. That is how the pagan religions thought prayer worked. You do something, you sacrifice something or someone, and that forces the gods to do something for you. I see some of this on Facebook. The post will say, if you respond to the post by typing “Amen” in the commentary, God will do a miracle for you. Really? Typing Amen to a Facebook post will force God to do something? That is plain nonsense. That is not the way prayer works.

Prayer is not superstitious magic. Saying a certain prayer, a certain number of times, on certain days will not manipulate God to give us what we want. I remember visiting a young man in the hospital. Though baptized a Catholic, he hadn’t been to church for a long time. He had a rosary dangling from around his neck like a necklace and felt optimistic about his health outcome because he had “the beads.” When I visited him again a couple of weeks later, he was angry because “the beads” were not working.  He thought that by just wearing the beads around his neck like some magic talisman, he would be cured of his illness. I took the beads from around his neck, placed them in his hands and showed him how to pray the rosary.

When we pray to God we must discern carefully that for which we are asking of God. Jesus asks his disciples this question today. “What father among you would hand his son a snake when he asks for a fish? Or hand him a scorpion when he asks for an egg?” When we pray to God for some need, if God perceives that for which we are asking is really a snake instead of a fish, God will not give us what we want. If God perceives that for which we are really asking is a scorpion instead of an egg, God will not give us what we want. Like any good parent, God will give to us only that which is best for us, that which will help fulfill who we really are as children of God. This requires us to do a serious assessment of what we truly need to become the person God created us to be.

This is why the most important part of today’s Gospel is the ending. Jesus concludes today’s gospel saying, “If you then, who are wicked, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him?” What Jesus is saying that of all for which we pray to God, the most important prayer we can ask of God is to give us the Holy Spirit, so that we are able to discern, to know that for which we truly need from God.

Back in 2011, when I had my first hip replacement, I prayed to God for a successful surgery with no complications. I ended up with a MRSA infection, almost dying from the antibiotic that was suppose to kill the infection, losing the artificial hip, and going for six months without a left hip while the infectious disease doctor tried to discover the right combination of antibiotics that would kill the infection without killing me, went through a total of five surgeries before I finally had the second hip replacement. During that nightmarish time, while I prayed for a cure, that for which I really ended up praying was for understanding, the answer to the question, “where is the grace in all of this.” You see, when Jesus asked God to take the chalice of his passion death from him, he concluded the prayer with, “Not my will but your will be done.” I prayed to God in order to understand what God wanted me to learn from my experience. The infection was eventually killed. I ended up getting a new hip. However, my prayer for understanding? God has answered that prayer many times since. Five years later, I continue to grow from the answers I am still receiving.

My friends, may we always begin our prayers of need to God by praying first for the Holy Spirit to help us know that for which we really need, and then pray for that need. If we do that, then we will ask and will receive. We will seek and we will find. And, any door we knock upon will be opened up for us.

Scratch that off your list – a homily for the 13th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C

DCP_0715If I were to ask you what you hold as the most important value in your life, the loss of which would make life unbearable and intolerable for you, what would it be?

 About 20 years ago, I attended a seminar on suicide and the elderly. While the suicide of the elderly is not the largest demographic in our society, it is the demographic that is most successful in dying by suicide. There are many losses a person experiences while aging. All these losses can lead to depression, and depression is an illness that can kill people just as readily as heart disease, cancer, and many other illnesses. To illustrate the enormity of loss plays on human life, the psychologist presenting the seminar, had all of us attendees take 5 minutes to list in order of importance the ten things or values in our lives that we held most important. He then told us to scratch out two of them, then three of them and so on until we were down to just one. I really struggled as I scratched out item after item on my list. He then had us scratch the lone remaining item. As a group, we all acknowledged to the presenter how hard it was to choose what to scratch out. He looked at us and remarked, at least you had a choice as to what to eliminate from your list. The elderly have no choice.

In the gospel today Jesus is doing something similar to what I experienced at that seminar. Jesus is telling his apostles to examine what they consider most important in their lives. Is it popularity and acceptance by others? Jesus told the apostles, popularity, acceptance, scratch that off your list. The apostles wanted to call death and destruction on the Samaritans when the Samaritans refused to welcome them. Jesus did not rebuke the Samaritans, Jesus rebuked the apostles.

Are the things we own, the homes in which we live the most important in our lives? Jesus turns to the apostles and tells them to scratch that off their list. They are not to hold their homes and that which they own as the most important value in their lives.

Are our families, our spouses, our children that which we hold the most important in our lives? Jesus pushes the apostles to their very limit by telling them to scratch even their families off their list. Not even the burying of one’s dead family members, which is a very high value for most of us, can even be held as the most important value in one’s life.

What point is Jesus trying to make here? It is simply this. Everything that is tangible and attainable in human life is not long lasting. One’s standing in a community, one’s popularity and acceptance by a community is easily lost. It rarely will last a lifetime. Our homes, all that we have and own is also not lasting. Homes are easily destroyed. All those things that we own can easily be broken, stolen, or lost. All the relationships that we have and value, our family members, our friends, are just as easily lost by disagreements, distance, or death. As important as they may be to us, these important relationships will eventually leave us at some point in time in our life.

What is the most important value in our life? What is everlasting? The most important thing in our life is our relationship with God and God’s relationship with us. That is ultimately the highest value in our lives! Jesus refers to this special relationship as the Kingdom of God or the Reign of God. It is only the Reign of God that can withstand time and hardship in our lives. The Reign of God cannot be stolen. It cannot be destroyed. It is indestructible and timeless. The Reign of God is forever. That is why Jesus insists that the Reign of God must be the highest and most important value in our lives. Jesus asks us whether we are willing to abandon everything that has value in our lives for the Reign of God. When we hold God’s relationship with us as such a high value, we will find that everything we hold important, even our family relationships, pale in comparison.

St. Paul expresses the permanency of God’s relationship with us in his letter to the Romans when he asks the question, “What will separate us from the love of Christ?” Paul writes, “Will anguish, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or the sword? No, in all these things we conquer overwhelmingly through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neithouer death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor present things, nor future things, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

 (Epilogue) If you are wondering what I listed as the highest value on the list I made in that seminar twenty years ago, well so did Ruthie when she heard this homily yesterday. She asked, “Where was I on that list, number 9?” I said, “no darling, you were number two. I can’t tell you how much it pained me to scratch you off the list.” The words I wrote as number one on my list that day were the words, “the love of God.” I didn’t have to scratch that one out because I knew that the love of God, my relationship with God, the Kingdom of God is permanent. It is forever.

The one to whom little is forgiven, loves little – a homily in the Year of Mercy

woman washing Jesus feetHOMILY FOR THE 11TH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY

Last December, Pope Francis declared this Church year as the Year of Mercy. Today’s gospel is a beautiful reflection upon the mercy of God and what is called of us who call ourselves, disciples of Jesus. As we listened to the gospel today, we may have found ourselves identifying with two of the principle characters in the story, namely, Simon the Pharisee, or the sinful woman.

There are times I think we can all identify with Simon the Pharisee from today’s gospel. There is not a one of us here who has not criticized others. Often times, as human beings, the critical judgment we level on another person’s character or flaws generally is a judgment on our own character or flaws. In other words, those actions and flaws of others that we criticize are often a judgment about those same actions and behaviors in our own lives.

Repeatedly in all four gospels, Jesus addresses our human tendency to condemn others. Jesus tells the people in Matthew’s Gospel, “How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me remove that splinter from your eye,’ while the wooden beam is in your eye? You hypocrite, remove the wooden beam from your eye first; then you will see clearly to remove the splinter from your brother’s eye.”

We see this played out in everyday life.  No matter what religion or political party, how many religious leaders or politicians have been found guilty of the very same behaviors or issues they preach against? This is reminiscent of the gospel story of the woman caught in adultery. Jesus tells those ready to stone the woman to death, “let the one among you who is without sin cast the first stone.” As you recall, everyone dropped their stones and silently walked away. I have often wondered how many of those men holding stones were guilty of the same sin as the woman they were ready to kill?

In today’s gospel account, Jesus challenges the behavior of Simon the Pharisee. Simon treats the woman, who was more than likely a prostitute, with a superior air of scorn and disgust. The woman, contrite to the point of being distraught, weeps upon the feet of Jesus. She then dries his feet with her hair, then, anoints his feet with perfumed ointment. Jesus challenges Simon, “I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven because she has shown great love. But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.” Jesus makes it very clear to us that we will be judged and forgiven by God in the same manner we judge and forgive others. God will hold us accountable using the same measure by which we judge and condemn others. Everytime we pray the Our Father, do we not petition God to forgive us our sins in the same manner we forgive those who sin against us? Pope Francis has declared this Church year, “The Year of Mercy.” If we are to be disciples of Jesus, we are to be merciful as God is merciful.

On the other hand, we might find ourselves identifying with the sinful woman in this story. At one time or another in our lives, most of us have committed a sin that, even though it has been forgiven, has left us with a tremendous amount of guilt and regret. We might even think of this sin as unforgiveable. In his tremendous gesture of compassion, love and mercy given to the woman Jesus tells us that in God’s eye there is no such thing as an unforgiveable sin.

Look at the behavior of King David in the first reading. King David uses his power, and his privilege as King to commit adultery with a married woman. From his rooftop, which overlooked many other rooftops, he sees her bathing, and desiring her, orders his servants to bring her to him. Though she is married to one of his soldiers, he, nonetheless, forces himself upon her. In doing so, he commits the sin of adultery. As if this was not bad in itself, when the woman finds herself pregnant with King David’s child, King David plots and then has the husband of the woman murdered. By most human standards, David commits two unforgiveable sins, adultery and murder. How could God ever forgive David the things he had done? When David fully sees the horror of his actions, like the woman in the gospel, he falls to his knees in guilt and sorrow. While he must atone for what he has done, David is forgiven by God. As Jesus explains to Simon the Pharisee, God’s standards of forgiveness are the not the same as human standards. The compassion, love and mercy of God is never denied those who are sincerely sorry for their sins, whatever that sin might be.

I would like to close with a portion of Psalm 51. This psalm written by King David speaks to the love, compassion and mercy he received from God. May these words always be on our lips, in our minds and in our hearts. “Have mercy on me, O God, in accord with your merciful love; in your abundant compassion blot out my transgressions. Thoroughly wash away my guilt; and from my sin cleanse me. For I know my transgressions; my sin is always before me. Against you, you alone have I sinned; I have done what is evil in your eyes so that you are just in your word, and without reproach in your judgment. Cleanse me with hyssop that I may be pure; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow. You will let me hear gladness and joy; the bones you have crushed will rejoice. Turn away your face from my sins; blot out all my iniquities. A clean heart create for me, O God; renew within me a steadfast spirit. For you do not desire sacrifice or I would give it; a burnt offering you would not accept. My sacrifice, O God, is a contrite spirit; a contrite, humbled heart, O God, you will not scorn.” Amen.

Don’t just stand there, get busy – a homily on the Solemnity of the Ascension, 2016

The Ascension of Jesus, Rembrandt_van_Rijn_192The Ascension of Jesus (Rembrandt)

Today we honor Mary, the Blessed Mother of God, as at the same time, we honor all women who live out their vocation as mothers not only to their children, but to all for whom they care. And over all of this we celebrate the Solemnity of our Lord ascending into heaven.

Jesus ascended into heaven body and soul. It was something he had to do to fulfill his mission. As long as he was on earth and inhabited a human body, he, like all of us, could only be in one place at one time. He ascended into heaven so that he could be everywhere at one time, through you and through me. We who have been baptized into the Body of Christ, are to bring the presence of Jesus to all we know and meet in life.

In the first reading, after receiving the mandate from Jesus to witness to the gospel throughout all the world, the apostles stood staring in the sky. Two men in white, presumably angels, basically said to the apostles, “Why are you just standing around here looking at the sky? Go back to Jerusalem and get busy doing what he just told you to do.” This is a message that is one not only for the apostles, but for all of us. As disciples of Jesus, we are to be actively engaged in being a witness to Jesus in our own part of the world.

Being a witness to Jesus implies that we live the Gospel of Jesus Christ. As St. Francis of Assisi told his followers, “preach the Gospel at all times, and, if necessary, use words.” The way we live out the gospel in our lives is a more powerful witness to Jesus, than what we say. There is an old Italian story about a young mother that perhaps illustrates this the best.

Long ago, Italians believed that Jesus and St. Peter would often visit the earth, often disguised as two poor men making a pilgrimage to a shrine. They did this to see how well people were carrying on the Jesus’ command to continue to give witness to the gospel. In one story, Jesus and St. Peter, dressed in tattered, weather-beaten clothes walk into a small Italian town.

They see a big, beautiful home with lovely flower gardens, and a well-manicured lawn and decide to stop there and ask for food and shelter. The woman of the house, who was very well-to-do, answered the door and looked very suspiciously at the two ragged men standing at her door. Jesus told her, “Good lady, my companion and I are on a pilgrimage to a shrine. We are wondering if you could give us a little food and perhaps a place in the stable in which we might sleep tonight.” She replied rather sternly, “I cannot help you. However, there is a family across the road who might be able to assist you.” Then, she slammed the door in their faces.

Jesus and St. Peter looked across the road. There was a small, little house that was in need of repair. It was very obviously the home of someone who was poor. So they crossed the road and knocked on the door. A young woman, who had a baby in her arms and three small children hanging on her patched dress, opened the door.

Jesus said to her, “Good woman, my companion and I are on pilgrimage to a shrine. We are wondering if you could give us a little food and perhaps a place in the shed in which we might sleep tonight.” She replied, “My husband and I do not have much, but what we have is yours. Please come in and make yourselves comfortable from your journey.” She sat them down in front of the hearth as she got busy making supper and looking after the needs of her children. When her husband got home from work, she invited Jesus and St. Peter to the table for a shared meal, meager as it was. Following supper, the woman and her husband cleaned up the dishes, and got the children ready for bed.

Jesus and St. Peter got up and Jesus said, “My companion and I will go out to the shed in back so that you and your husband can get some rest.” She replied, “Nonsense! I will not have you sleeping with the chickens. I insist you sleep here in our house.” She went and got a couple of pillows and blankets and set up a space near the hearth for Jesus and St. Peter to sleep so that they could be warm through the night. Then she and her husband went to bed.

Early the next morning the woman arose, prepared a little breakfast for her husband, her children, and Jesus and St. Peter. As Jesus and St. Peter were getting ready to leave, she pressed into their hands some bread, a little cheese and two flagons of water. “This is food for the long journey you will make today. May God bless you!”

Jesus looked at her with great kindness and love. He told her, “Though we may look like poor pilgrims, I am Jesus, and this man is St. Peter. You have treated us with great kindness and generosity. In thanksgiving, I give you this one gift. After we leave today, the first thing you do today, you will do very well throughout the rest of the day.” Then they left.

The young woman thought, “I have much wool that needs to be spun into thread. So she got her spinning wheel and the raw wool she had. She sat down at her spinning wheel and spun thread throughout the day so well, that by the end of the day she had an overabundance of thread by which she could make clothes for her family.

The rich woman who lived across the street came over to the poor woman’s house and asked about the two strangers who stayed the night. The young woman told her how the two men were really Jesus and St. Peter, and how they blessed her so that she could spin all this wool into thread. The rich woman, jealous of the blessing given to the young woman, said to her, “If ever they come back through town looking for lodging, send them to me.” The young woman said that she would.

Jesus and St. Peter made a return trip through the town and immediately went to the young woman’s house. She welcomed them with great joy and told them, “The woman who lives across the street regrets that she treated you so poorly. While you are very welcome to stay here, might you give her a second chance?” Jesus said that he would. St. Peter said to Jesus as they crossed the street, “You know this rich woman is only going to welcome us for the blessing you will give her when we leave.” Jesus replied, “Her true intentions will reveal whether she will receive a blessing or a curse.”

The rich woman welcomed them with open arms. She treated them well and prepared for them a great feast. They then slept on featherbeds next to a warm fire throughout the night. As they prepared to leave, Jesus said to her, ““Though we may look like poor pilgrims, I am Jesus, and this man is St. Peter. You have treated us with great kindness and generosity. In thanksgiving, I give you this one gift. After we leave today, the first thing after we leave, you will do very well throughout the rest of the day.” Then they left.

The rich woman got out her spinning wheel and all her raw wool and said to herself, “I am going to spin even more wool than did that poor woman across the street. But first, I better go to the bathroom.”  And, it was in the bathroom that the rich woman spent the rest of the day.

The young woman gave witness to Jesus in the way she cared for the strangers at her door. On this feast of the Ascension, we give thanks for the many ways our Blessed Mother and our mothers have given witness to Jesus, not so much by what they have said but on how well they have lived the gospel in acts of love for us and others. May we, in turn, emulate the example of the Blessed Mother and our mothers, by giving witness and preach Jesus in the way we live out our faith in acts of love.

Good Shepherd Calling – A Homily for the 4th Sunday in Easter

a pensive bobFor the first part of my childhood, my family lived in Chicago. It was always an exciting time for my brother and sister and I when our parents would take us to downtown Chicago, especially during the weeks leading up to Christmas. Marshall Fields was a huge department store filled with all sorts of exotic sights and smells. I would suppose for most who are young, the experience I had of Marshall Fields department store would be like going to the Mall of America for the very first time. There was so much to see and so much of it just filled a kid like me with wonder. The overwhelming scents coming from the perfume counter area alone could nearly knock a person out. However, for a five year old kid, the best part of that department store at Christmas was the vast area devoted only to toys.

The toy section consisted of aisles upon aisles of toys of all kinds. A kid could wander the toy section of the store for several hours and never see the entirety of what was displayed there. I remember as a five year old kid being mesmerized by all that was on display. After being in the toy section for a while, my mother told me it was time to leave and follow her and go look for clothes. Ugh! There is nothing more boring in the world for a 5 year old kid than to go shopping for clothes. I heard my mother’s voice, but the Siren’s call of the toys was stronger. They called out to me, “Come back, come back!” I made like I was following my mother, and then circled back into the toy section.

After some time had passed, I thought I had better go and find my mother. What I had not counted on in my great plan was that in a store as big and vast as Marshall Fields filled with busy Christmas shoppers, all who were at least 2 or 3 feet taller than I, trying to find my mother in that huge crowd was going to be impossible. I wandered around calling for my mother. “Mom, where are you?” I called out. It hadn’t occurred to me that there was more than one woman who answered to the name, “Mom.” I couldn’t see her anywhere and I was getting very scared. I was lost in a huge store, in a huge city, surrounded by grownups, and had no way of knowing how I was ever going to get home to my family.

What I didn’t know was my mother missed me right away and knew exactly where I was. She decided that a good lesson in obedience needed to be taught, and withdrew from me, keeping me in eyesight, but letting me sweat out my huge mistake. When I was on the verge of panic, she finally answered my call, and I ran to her. I was so very grateful and hugged her waist tightly (remember I was a little kid, then). For the rest of the day I was so close to her, you would swear I was stuck to her with super glue.

On any given day, we listen to many voices. Do we pay attention to the voice of the Good Shepherd who calls out to us? In that department store many years ago, instead of listening to my mother, I chose to listen to the voices of all those toys beckoning to me. The sight and the sounds of all those toys bedazzled me luring me further and further from my mother to the point that I became completely lost, alone in a vast crowd of people, and scared to death. Just as I ignored the voice of my mother telling me to follow her in that department store, do we tend to shut out the voice of the Good Shepherd and follow other voices? And at those times when we do so, do we also find ourselves lost and scared?

There are many voices in the world luring us away from Jesus. There is the vast wasteland of imagined wealth that beckons to us, promising us riches and fame and security. There are those who hold themselves up as political Messiahs making all sorts of promises, promises based on nothing but air, with no guarantee of fulfillment. There are the voices of self-gratification, promising to titillate all of our senses, all of it just another fantasy among many, and no more. All of these voices invade our lives through television commercials, radio, emails, the vast world wide web, all telling us what to do and how to live. Where is the Good Shepherd amidst all of this noise, this cacophony of sound?

Like a mother keeping an eye on her lost, disobedient son, Jesus is always near, ready to call out and save us as we get lost. In the midst of the chaos and panic of our lives, Jesus calls for us to just turn around. As we do so, we find that he has been there all along just waiting for us to find him. All we can do then is to embrace him in gratitude, and be thankful to be safe and sound once more.

Jesus is the only sure thing in our lives, the only sure thing on which we can count. The rest of the world is just all smoke and mirrors and nothing more. Just as a mother loves her children to death and never abandons them, so Jesus does not abandon us even if we abandon him, for we are precious in the heart of our loving God. It is the hand of God who created us in love and shaped us, and who has given us to the care of the beloved, Jesus, who is the Son of God, the Good Shepherd. As the beloved of our God, Jesus offers us more than what the world can offer us. Jesus gives to us eternal life and happiness. All we need to do is to listen to his voice and follow him.

Homily for the 3rd Sunday in Easter, Year C

salvador dali, john of the cross

Painting: Christ of St. John of the Cross (Salvador Dali)

Several Sundays ago while I was assisting Fr. Kevin at Mass, a little girl of 4 or 5 years of age and her dad approached me as I distributed Holy Communion. The little girl had her arms folded over her chest wanting a blessing. I extended my left hand over her and said, “May God bless you and keep you!” She looked at my extended hand and then in a joyful gesture, giggled and high fived me, slapping my hand, saying, “Alright!” At first, I was startled and then amused, as was her dad. I thought to myself, “If only all people approached Holy Communion with the same joy and excitement as this little girl!”

In all of the scripture readings for today we hear similar expressions of joy. In the Acts of the Apostles, the apostles left the Sanhedrin, “rejoicing that they had been found worthy to suffer dishonor for the sake of the name [of Jesus].”  In Revelations, we hear all living creatures and the elders joyfully crying out, “Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power and riches, wisdom and strength, honor and glory and blessing.”  In the John’s Gospel account, the disciple rejoiced when they recognized the risen Jesus on the shore of the Sea of Tiberias. Then the Gospel writer tells us that Jesus takes Peter aside and says to him, “Amen, amen, I say to you, when you were younger, you used to dress yourself and go where you wanted; but when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go.” Then the Gospel writer concludes, “Jesus said this signifying by what kind of death he would glorify God.’” 

In all of these readings there is an association of unbridled joy to suffering and death. Joy is not the normal emotional state we generally associate with suffering and death. In the Gospel, Jesus talks about Peter glorifying God by dying. How is there any glory in dying? We usually associate misery, pain and grieving to suffering and death but not joy.

Each and every one of us has experienced some kind of suffering in our lives. Our suffering may be physical from an illness or some kind of injury. The death of a loved one, the broken relationships that occur in divorce, the breaking off of a long term romantic relationship or a friendship with someone significant, depression, the loss of employment or of a home can bring upon us great emotional and spiritual pain and suffering. But why do the scripture writers insist on associating joy with suffering?

Ordinarily, I think we would all think a person rather sadistic who would find joy in all this kind of suffering. The difficulty we encounter in suffering is that we can get so stuck in our suffering, that we dwell in it and make it an end unto itself. We wonder why God is punishing us.  What have we done that God is punishing us with such suffering? What the scriptures tell us today is that human suffering is not permanent, rather it is temporary,  a process through which we must pass in order to find true and complete joy. This is what the Paschal Mystery of Jesus teaches us.

In order for the joy in the Resurrection to occur, Jesus had to first experience being betrayed and abandoned by his most trusted followers, tortured, beaten and executed. Jesus had to pass through his passion and death in order to experience the joy of the Resurrection. You and I would not have the joy of receiving the Body and Blood of Jesus in Holy Communion had not Jesus first suffered and died, then rose from the dead. We reap the benefits of Jesus’ passion, death and resurrection every time we receive Holy Communion. 

We find meaning and purpose to our human suffering in the Paschal Mystery of Jesus. In his letter to the Romans, St. Paul writes that In our baptism we have been united to Jesus and have suffered and died with him. However, we also have been resurrected with him. Our union with Jesus is so intimate and close that in our own suffering we share in his suffering. In our sharing of his suffering, our suffering takes on the redemptive quality of his. As Jesus had to pass through his suffering to reach the resurrection, our suffering, too, is only temporary. Our suffering is not a permanent state, but a temporary condition through which we must pass to reach our ultimate joy, our own resurrection.

When the time comes when our ultimate suffering occurs and our human bodies wear out and die, we will not remain dead. We will rise from the dead. This is why we sing following the consecration at Mass, “When we eat this bread and drink this cup, we proclaim your death Lord Jesus, until you come again in glory.” When we receive the Body and Blood of Jesus in Holy Communion, our suffering and our death are united to his redemptive suffering, death and resurrection, until it is no longer necessary when Jesus returns in glory.

None of us need to seek out suffering or death. These all come our way eventually. However, when we do find ourselves in the throes of suffering, let us not get stuck in it. Let us not dwell on our suffering as permanent. Rather let us look beyond the suffering we are experiencing to the joy that awaits us. When we do so, the anticipation of that joy will help sustain us.

As the apostles left the Sanhedrin in joy for having suffered for the sake of Jesus, as the Lamb who was slain received all power, riches, and glory, and as Peter would give glory to God in his own suffering and death, may we find within our own suffering the promise of God’s joy, that same joy that filled that little girl when she high fived me at communion several weeks ago.

 

Death, the glory of God revealed: a homily for the 5th Sunday of Lent, Year A readings

From the moment Mary’s lips parted and said, “yes,” to the Angel Gabriel, God’s glory was made manifest in human history. The glory of God was revealed as a pregnant Mary approached her very pregnant cousin Elizabeth, and the baby in Elizabeth’s womb leaped for joy. God’s glory was revealed by the angels to the shepherds at the birth of Jesus, and later to the Magi who traveled from distant lands to worship the Messiah of all humankind. The glory of God was revealed at the baptism of Jesus by his cousin, John, in the Jordan River, on the mountain top at his Transfiguration, in his conversation with the woman at the well, and his healing of the man born blind.  The glory of God was revealed as Jesus raises a very dead and decomposing Lazarus back to life. Next Sunday, Jesus will reveal God’s glory in his triumphal entrance into Jerusalem, and in his passion and death on the cross. And, then, on Easter Sunday, the greatest of all manifestations of God’s glory will be in the Resurrection of Jesus. The purpose of Jesus’ life, very simply, was the revelation of God’s glory for all to see.

You and I have been baptized into Christ Jesus. You and I are the living manifestation of Jesus in our world. We have been given the same mission as Jesus, to reveal the glory of God. How well have we done this?

Jesus reveals God’s glory in the joys, the confusion, the sorrows, and the tragedies of human life. In his own human condition and in the human condition of those Jesus met and touched, God’s glory is revealed. The death of someone we love reveals our human condition at its most raw and harshest level, our emotions and spirituality stretched to its utmost.

When someone we love dies, we may find ourselves closely akin to the people in this gospel story. We may find ourselves like Martha, not understanding the death of our loved one, but believing fervently in the power of Jesus to conquer all. Or we may be like Mary, who is so distraught by the death of her brother, she locks herself away in her room to grieve in isolation. We might find ourselves like the mourners who question why Jesus could cure the man born blind, but refuse to heal his best friend, Lazarus. Or we might find ourselves like Lazarus, emotionally and spiritually dead, awaiting to be raised by Jesus. Wounded by death, left in doubt, grief, confusion, and perhaps emotionally and spiritually dead, how can we reveal the glory of God within us?

My brother, my sister, and I never knew our maternal grandparents. Both our maternal grandmother and grandfather were dead by the time my mother got married. As we got older, my mom began to tell us the stories about her mother and father while they were alive. Though mom would reference their deaths, it really wasn’t until we were much older, specifically for myself, when I was 40 years old, that she began to talk in detail about their deaths.

When my mom was 12 years old, her mother and her 5 year old little sister died within two weeks of each other. Her mother died two weeks before Christmas. My mom’s little sister died on Christmas day. Days before she died, my 12 year old mother was summoned to my grandmother’s deathbed. On her deathbed, my grandmother told my 12 year old mother, “I named you Regina when you were born. Regina is another name of our Blessed Mother. The name means “Queen.” I am going to die.  I have asked our Blessed Mother to be your mother. She is your mother now. Go to her when you need her.”

At that time, when people died, their families would wake their dead loved ones in their own homes. The wakes lasted two days and two nights. I asked my mom how it felt to have her dead mother and her dead little sister waked in her home. My mom that she was kept busy cooking food for the guests who came by to pay their respects, and to clean up after the guests. She told me how great a comfort it was to have their bodies of her mother and little sister there. After all the guest left, she said that in the middle of the night she would go downstairs and sit next to the bodies of her mother and her sister. She said that the closeness of their presence felt like they were embracing her.

Where, in the midst of this horrible tragedy that befell my mother and her family, was the glory of God  revealed? My dying grandmother revealed God’s glory in handing over her daughter, Regina, to the loving care of our Blessed Mother, Mary. God’s glory was revealed in all of my mother’s Irish aunts and uncles who rallied around her, her remaining brothers and sister, and, her dad. God’s glory continued to be revealed following the funerals of her mother and her sister, in all the relatives, the nuns of her parish school of St. Rosalia, Fr. Coglin, her parish priest, who supported my mom and her family from that time forward. When my grandfather died when my mom was 25 years old, Fr. Coglin took on the responsibility of watching over my mom as a surrogate father. Many a young man had to run the gauntlet of Fr. Coglin before he could date my mother. Fr. Coglin was not just going to let any man date and/or marry Queenie, as Fr. Coglin called my mother. Fortunately, my dad passed the very exacting scrutiny of Fr. Coglin and married my mother.

Baptized into Christ Jesus, we are the living manifestation of Jesus in our world. Today’s gospel reveals to us that the glory of God can be made manifest in all the conditions of our human life. Let us open our lives to God so that God’s glory may be revealed in our joys and our sorrows, in our health and in our illnesses, and in our life and in our death. Ultimately, as with Jesus, the greatness of God’s glory will be revealed for all of us to see in our Resurrection.

Blinded by the light … a homily for the 2nd Sunday of Lent, Year C

Transfiguration_of_Christ_Icon_Sinai_12th_century

Photo: 12th century Icon from the Sinai.

We have entered our second week in our Lenten desert. As we do so, through the eyes of Peter, James, and John, God allows us a glimpse of the glorified Jesus.  We see Jesus as he truly is.

As we, with the apostles, behold the image of Jesus glorified, let these words of St. John’s 1st letter resonate within us. “Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we shall be has not yet been revealed. We do know that when it is revealed we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.” Listen to that 2nd sentence once more. “We do know that when it is revealed, we shall be like him for we shall see him as he is.”

We shall be like him, transfigured. When you got up this morning and looked into the mirror, did you notice a certain glow about you? Was there some kind of aura of multiple colors of light surrounding the image looking back at you from the mirror? Bloodshot eyes don’t count, just in case you were wondering.

If we believe what St. John wrote, in beholding Jesus today, we also see that which will be for all those who faithfully follow Jesus. We, too, will assume the glory that the apostles saw in Jesus.

If we all have this ability to be transformed beyond who we are at this very moment, how on earth do to get to the state of being Transfigured? The “how” by which we may become transformed is clearly outlined by Jesus in all four gospels. However, there is one passage from Luke’s gospel in which Jesus indicates the path we must take in order to become Transfigured. It is a passage that many of us do not want to hear.

Jesus said in Luke’s gospel, “If anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.”

This saying of Jesus is not widely embraced in our present age in which the glorification of the individuality of each person has taken on narcissistic qualities. This is best understood by the old light bulb joke. How many narcissists does it take to screw in a light bulb? The answer is one. He holds the bulb and the whole world revolves around him. Today, it seems that which holds importance for many people is only that which benefits their individual self. When the only criteria used to judge something is the question, “What’s in it for me?”; if the answer is negative, then it is rejected, no matter how much benefit it might hold for the common good of all people. Jesus is telling us that the glorification of the individual self by this means is a false glorification. It is a glorification that is baseless.

Jesus tells us that it is only in a loss of self that we gain knowledge of our true self, in which our glorified self can truly be revealed. To deny ourselves, is not to neglect our self-care, for self-care is a necessary part of discipleship. Jesus practiced good self-care. In order to do the work he did, he had to find time for recreation, nourishment, for rest, and for prayer. However, his principle focus in life was not on himself, but rather in doing the will of God his Father, and in serving others. He emptied himself in love for God his Father, and in love for the people he served.

To lose ourselves, is to let go of the selfishness and self-centeredness of our lives. When the prejudices that we harbor, the false gods of pride, power, and greed that were all a part of the temptations we heard in last Sunday’s gospel, get stripped away from our lives, we come to know that which is most important, that which is most vital for eternal happiness and life.

As our prayer life deepens, when we do more than just talk at God, but quiet ourselves and really listen to God, we enter the cloud that enveloped the apostles today. Rather than being frightened by the voice of God speaking to us in prayer, we are able to listen to the voice of God and enter into the mystery of God’s message to us.

As we model our lives after that of Jesus, and pour our lives out in loving service to others, we will find happiness that is eternal. True happiness is not in the acquiring and receiving of things, but rather in giving, especially the giving of ourselves to others. Those who give of themselves in loving service to others find that they receive more from those they serve, then that which they gave.

From our baptism we carry upon our foreheads the mark of the cross of Jesus. This mark was first signed on our foreheads by our parents, our godparents, and the priest or deacon. This cross holds the key to our destiny, to our own transfiguration. As we daily deny ourselves, and pick up our cross, whatever it may be, to follow Jesus, we know that when our cross becomes too burdensome, too oppressive, he will be there alongside us to help us. He knows firsthand what it means to carry a cross, and he will lift the cross from our shoulders and carry it for us. Jesus knew that the path to the Resurrection was only by taking up his cross first and carrying it. It is only in carrying our own cross that we can journey to the Resurrection and the Transfiguration that awaits us.

To be transfigured takes a lifetime. It is a gradual transformation. As we increasingly live a deepening prayer life, and a lifetime of service to others, we will find as we look into the mirror that gradually, the dark layers of the false self that cloak us is stripped away, and that which remains is the glorified light of who we truly are.