Faith, a reflection for the 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C

The Omega Point of Teilhard de Chardin. Chardin was a French Jesuit philosopher, anthropologist, and theologian who taught that all life, created by God, spirals back at the end of time to God and is absorbed into God.

REFLECTION ON THE 29TH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME, YEAR C

We are closely approaching the end of the liturgical year. The scriptures point more and more to the end times, when we, as Christians, believe that Jesus will come again. If we have been observant, the scriptures for the past month or so have been preparing us for that time. Jesus has been teaching us for some time about what it means to live the second part of the Great Commandment, that is, loving our neighbor as ourselves. Now Jesus focuses on the first part of what it means to love God with all our mind, heart, and soul. At the end of the Gospel for today Jesus asks this question, “When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”

What does Jesus mean by the world “faith”? When we speak the word faith, what does it mean to us? By faith, are we speaking about our own religious tradition? Or, when we speak the word, faith, does faith mean something more than our own particular religious tradition?

I remember the definition of religion I taught as a catechist. Religion is how we organize our world. A Christian is going to organize the world differently from that of one who is Jewish, or one who is Muslim. One who is a Hindu is going to organize the world differently from that of one who is Buddhist, and so on. The one consistent between all these different religions is that God is a major part of the world for all these world religions. Atheism is a religion only in so much that an Atheist organizes the world without God. How we organize the world has a distinct way of how we approach life.

Religion, in itself, is not and must not be the object of our faith. Human leadership is a part of all religion, whether it be a Rabbi, a Pope, a Bishop, an Iman, an Orthodox Patriarch, a Swami, or the Dali Lama. In as much that there is a human element to the leadership of a religion, there will always be the chance of scandal and corruption. If we place our faith in a religious institution, our faith will always have the chance of being betrayed. Let’s face it, Jewish religious authorities, both the Sanhedrin and the Pharisees (who were theologically in opposition to each other) betrayed Jesus, who was Jewish, and plotted and set up his execution by the Romans. It is the false faith placed on  religious institutions that has led to the abandonment of much of organized religion by many people.

However, the abandonment of organized religion has led to the heresy of our modern age, individualism. Individualism confines the definition of God to our own individual self. The word, God, is defined by the word, me. The only religious holiday is “my” birthday. The only religious leader to follow is “myself.” It is only “I” who holds, defines, and structures the world and no one else. The universe is only that which I see and experience, and all else that doesn’t have any effect on my life is meaningless. When we make ourselves God, and only have faith in ourselves, then the universe collapses around us. This universe confined to the individual is destructive to the human community and to all of creation.

There is a great need for religion. However, religion must lead us to God. Note the plurality in the use of the word, “us.” Religion is not just about me, but about all of us seeking God. To have faith in God is to believe that God is the source of all goodness in our lives, and all for which we long in our lives. To have faith in God is to have direction in our lives and a purpose to our lives. To have faith in God is to live beyond the narrow limit of our lives and expand our consciousness of God and be aware of God’s presence all around us. To have faith in God is to experience God as immanent to us as our own breath, at the same time sensing the transcendence of God beyond our breath. To have faith in God leads us to trust in that which lay beyond our human senses. To have faith in God leads us to embrace mystery, knowing that the word, certainty, is being content in not having all the answers. Faith in God encompasses all of this and is expressed in the way we treat others (loving our neighbor as ourselves), and, like the widow in the Gospel today, badger God for that which we need knowing that God will listen to us. Faith in God is the knowledge that God always watches our back and will always look after us. 

We are living in the end times. In fact, all of humanity has been living in the end times since the Ascension of Jesus. Jesus asks us, “When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?” So, when Jesus comes again, will he find us standing with those who have faith in God or those who have only faith in themselves?

The mystery of God’s healing power. A Reflection on the gospel for the 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C

REFLECTION ON THE GOSPEL FOR THE 28TH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME, YEAR B

This gospel story, Luke 17:11-19, is a very familiar to us. For Catholics, it is the gospel chosen for Thanksgiving Day in the United States. Ten lepers, among whom one was a Samaritan, cry out to Jesus as he passes by. Their cry is not warning others to stay away because of their infectious disease, but rather they call out to Jesus, “Have pity on us!” He looks at them, and then orders them to show themselves to the priests. As they are on the way, they are healed miraculously from their leprosy.  The Samaritan, realizing he has been healed, does not go to the priests, but rather return’s immediately to Jesus. He prostrates himself at the feet of Jesus and thanks him. Jesus asks as to the whereabouts of the other nine. Jesus remarks to his disciples that this Samaritan, one who is despised by the Jewish people, is the only one who has returned to give thanks to God for his healing. Jesus then commands the Samaritan to rise and go, concluding with the words, “Your faith has saved you.”

One thing we may observe about the story is that the lepers did not wait first to be cured and then show themselves to the priests. Though still afflicted by their illness,  they believe Jesus’ words and turn to go to the priests. It was this act of faith in Jesus’ word that effected their cure. What stands out is the reaction of the Samaritan to being cured. He decides to not show himself to the priests but rather to immediately go back to Jesus and offer thanks to Jesus for restoring his life. It is because of this expression of gratitude on the part of the Samaritan that we often use this gospel story at celebrations of thanksgiving, e.g. Thanksgiving Day liturgies.

As I reflected on this story for the umpteenth time I found myself reflecting on the times in my life when I have been in the place of the Samaritan leper, and in the place of Jesus in this story.

On many occasions I have been the leper who has received the power of Christ’s healing through others in my life. The healing comes perhaps in a word expressed to me, or in some gesture of support, or an action on the part of another on my behalf. It is has been my awareness that that word, or gesture, or action that was so healing and affirming originated not in the person, but in Christ moving through that person to heal me.

And, there have been times when someone has received healing through some word, gesture or action on my part. I find it somewhat disconcerting when someone attributes healing to me, because I am very much aware of my own sinfulness and weakness. I am very much aware that any healing that is attributed to me originates not in me, but in a power that is quite beyond me, namely, that of Christ. Of course, this awareness is not something new but has been recognized and written about by many of our Christian ancestors.  For instance, St Paul writes in his 2nd letter to the Corinthians about a pernicious sin in his life, a “thorn in his side” that never seems to leave him. He pleads to God to remove it and God refuses for it is in Paul’s weakness, his powerlessness, that the power of God’s power is revealed. St Paul concludes this observation saying,  “So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me.” (2 Cor 12:9b, NRSV) And in his 1st letter to the Corinthians, “My speech and my proclamation were not with plausible words of wisdom, but with a demonstration of the Spirit and of power, so that your faith might rest not on human wisdom but on the power of God.” (1 Cor 2:4-5, NRSV)

Whether we hear this gospel in the person of the Samaritan leper or in the person of Jesus, the one dominant point that the gospel story illustrates is that the power of all good originates in God. God uses us to be the conduit through which God’s goodness reaches and touches the lives of those most in need of it. This is expressed in the prayer attributed to St Francis of Assisi, “Make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me bring love. Where there is offense, let me bring pardon. Where there is discord, let me bring union. Where there is error, let me bring truth. Where there is doubt, let me bring faith. Where there is despair, let me bring hope. Where there is darkness, let me bring your light. Where there is sadness, let me bring joy. O Master, let me not seek as much to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand, to be loved as to love, for it is in giving that one receives,
it is in self-forgetting that one finds, it is in pardoning that one is pardoned, it is in dying that one is raised to eternal life.”  

How the goodness and love of God works through us is veiled in mystery. It is not necessary for us to try and unveil that mystery, to try to understand the mystery. Rather, let us be content to immerse ourselves in that wondrous mystery. All that is required of us is to emulate the example of the Samaritan leper in the story and give thanks to God.

HOLY RELICS

My father and mother at their 50th wedding anniversary party, June 11, 1999.

HOLY RELICS

Holy Relics, not the piece
of dismembered bodies
that my religion adores
and venerates in altar stones
and golden reliquaries. No,
there is nothing so macabre
that smells of the grave
in the holy relics I venerate.

The relics I venerate are those
in two boxes of my parents.
I pour through the contents
realizing that these bits and
pieces were that which my
mother and father treasured
enough to set them aside
for posterity, to remind them
of what was truly holy in their lives.

The bits and pieces contained
within, earrings, some mismatched,
and old watch, photographs of
people long deceased, report
cards, Valentine Day greetings,
death certificates, diplomas,
and old watches, those
crayon engraved construction paper
cards created by my brother,
my sister and I for those
special days in the calendar year.

I hold and touch these treasures
my parents’ eyes once gazed upon,
the sacredness of these objects
transferred into my hands
as I hold and finger them.
My paternal grandfather’s
pocket watch fob which
my grandmother fashioned,
braided from her long
brown hair; my father’s
high school graduation ring,
Turtle Creek High School
long worn away on its surface,
this same ring that served
as his wedding band,
the holy card printed at
my maternal grandmother’s
death held in the twelve
year old hands of my mom.

The sacredness of these objects
tell the stories of my parents’
lives, their loves,  their sorrows,
their hopes, their joys, their
values and achievements.
I finger these sacred reminders
of lives well lived, embraced
by loved ones, friends, by God,
and am cognizant that one
day, I will leave my own
unique bits and pieces,
the holy relics of my life,
to be poured over by my
children, grandchildren,
and those yet to be born.

Of Faith And Service: a reflection on the readings for the 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C

REFLECTION ON THE 27TH SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME, YEAR C

In the Gospel for this weekend we hear Jesus speak about faith, and what it means to serve God and neighbor.

Jesus’ disciples ask hm to “increase their faith.” Jesus replies with the parable of the mustard seed. Unlike that in Matthew and Mark’s accounts, in which one having the faith of a mustard seed can move mountains, Jesus compares one having the faith of a mustard see capable of moving a mulberry tree and transplanting it in the sea. Note, that a mulberry tree has a complex root system which makes it difficult to move. Then Jesus follows up with the story of the servant coming in from the field, and being ordered to feed his master. Jesus concludes the story by stating that the servant receives no reward for serving the master. The servant is doing what the servant is required to do.

How does this story apply to us? Everything we receive from God is a gift. We are gifted by God with faith, and we are to use the faith with which we have been gifted. The one thing that all four Gospels hammer home repeatedly is that Jesus came NOT to be served, but TO SERVE! While we may like to project titles like Lord, and King upon Jesus, it was clear that Jesus’ primary title is that of a servant, who serves God and serves those who are in need. Jesus is the “Servant of God.” The point that Jesus is trying to hammer home to his disciples is that just as he came to serve God and others, THEY ARE TO DO THE SAME! It is what is expected of them.

The second part of the story is not to expect a reward for doing that which you have been called to do. We well know that for all the miracles that Jesus worked in the lives of people; for all the teachings he gave to people, the reward Jesus received in serving others was to be rejected, abandoned, and ultimately to be tortured and executed. The disciples of Jesus will, more than likely, be similarly received. If we choose to be a disciple of Jesus, there can be no motives attached to our service other than to serve. If we serve to receive accolades, honors, and prestige, Jesus’ blistering critique of the Pharisees, then we are NOT disciples of Jesus.

This is something that Bishop Welsh told my class during our ordination retreat two days before I was ordained a permanent deacon. His words were stark and to the point. He told us that if we are being ordained to receive status, honor and accolades in the Church, then we should stay home and not be ordained. Ordination is all about being of service to others. We were being ordained to be servants of the Servant of God, Jesus.

Faith and service to God and others is what is expected of us. There are no rewards attached to our faith and service on Earth. Anything recognition we receive from humanity is shallow and temporary. However, as the scriptures of the Christian Testament teach, our true treasure, and true reward await us by God. As the prophet Habakkuk states in the first readings, “For the vision still has its time,
 presses on to fulfillment, and will not disappoint; if it delays, wait for it,  it will surely come, it will not be late.  The rash one has no integrity; but the just one, because of his faith, shall live.”

feast of our brother, Francis of Assisi

A familiar depiction of Francis, pretending to bow a viol (the violin of his era) playing music for birds and other creatures. I believe it was Thomas of Celano, who in his first biography of Francis related a scene in which Francis picked up two sticks and pretended to play music. (artwork in the public domain, hermanleon.com)

Though Francis of Assisi is the patron saint of ecology, he was more than what is depicted for most people, namely, a garden statue or a figurine in a bird bath. Coming from a wealthy merchant family, Francis eschewed wealth and chose to live a way of life embracing Gospel poverty. He put on the garment of a beggar, and would beg money for food, or eat that which people threw away in their garbage. He did this so that the rest of the time he could devote himself to preaching and living the Gospel. A famous saying attributed to Francis is “Preach the Gospel at all times. And, if necessary, use words.” His way of life was to copy as closely as humanly possible the life of Jesus depicted in the Gospels. Not burdened with the stuff that weighs down human life, purchasing a house, working to maintain a house, etc, he was free to devote himself to living for God 24/7. He traveled with the Crusades to Palestine and was so shocked at the behavior of the Crusaders (who were prone to raping and pillaging everywhere they went), he knew that the Crusade would fail utterly. Abandoning the Crusaders, he walked into the Muslim army camp with the intention of converting the Sultan. He was brought before the Sultan, who, instead of having him executed, admired the gutsy behavior of Francis. Francis failed in turning the Sultan from Islam. The Sultan awarded Francis the ability to visit all the holy sites of Palestine without any harm. Francis was able to visit the Grotto in Bethlehem in which Jesus was born. He walked the way of the cross to Golgotha and visited the place in which tradition believed Jesus was laid to rest in Joseph of Arimethea’s grave.

When he returned to Italy, because the people were not able to visit these holy sites, he recreated these sites for people locally. In a cave in Grecio, he found a cave that resembled that which was in Bethlehem and he and the local people celebrated Christmas Mass in that cave. The Christmas creches that we have in our homes and churches reminding us of that momentous time in human history when the Son of God was born in our midst. In many Catholic Churches are the Stations of the Cross in which, every Lent, we recall the Passion and Death of Jesus. That is something that Francis brought to Europe.

Many biographies have been written, good and bad about this simple man, whose way of life attracted so many that he established three religious orders that followed his way or order of life: The First Order, Friars Minor (the little brothers) for single men; The Second Order (Poor Clares), for single women (named after Clare of Assisi); and the Third Order (now called Order for Secular Franciscans) for the laity of men and women, married and single who live in the world. We all live lives of Gospel poverty, in which we live very simply, viewing the things we have around us as a gift from God that is meant to be shared with those most in need. We keep what we need to sustain us and give all the rest to those most in need. I was professed a Secular Franciscan in May of 1980 and have strived to live a life of Gospel poverty all these years.

Francis is one of very few who received the stigmata of Jesus (the five wounds of Christ on the cross). He wanted to be so one with Christ that he prayed that he would also share in the sufferings of Christ on the cross. In a mystic vision a Seraph visited Francis as he was praying and fasting, and gave him the wounds of Jesus in his hands, feet, and side. Those wounds were examined and substantiated by others of his time. They were not self-inflicted. The wounds never healed would bleed all the time, yet, Francis did not die from the loss of blood. They remained with him the rest of his life. The most known stigmatist of modern times was the Franciscan Friar, Padre Pio. I believe he died in the 1970’s.

Francis receiving the stigmata (from hermanoleon.com)

During the late 70’s I compose a piece of music for piano (which I later composed for organ) entitled, “Fanfare For Brother Francis.” I recomposed the piano music for this in 2016 and included it in my music collection Opus 6. In honor of this great man of faith, I have included it here.

Fanfare for Brother Francis, Psalm Offering 2, Opus 6 (c) 2016, Robert Charles Wagner. All rights reserved.