Tenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (June 10, 2018)

In his Introduction to the Devout Life, Francis de Sales does not equate happiness with self-centeredness, self-absorption or self-obsession. However, Francis does equate happiness with what he calls self-possession. The Gentleman Saint writes:

“It is man’s great happiness to possess his own soul, and the more perfect our patience the more completely do we possess our souls.”

What happiness it is to know and accept yourself for who you are in the sight of God! What delight it is to be comfortable – without being complacent – in your own skin! What joy it is to be essentially at home – to be at peace – with the person that God made you to be! Why, it’s the next best thing to Paradise.

Tragically enough, the ability to be at home with ourselves became the first – and the most fundamental – casualty of The Fall. No sooner had Adam and Eve eaten from the fruit of the tree of knowledge than their natural state – their nakedness, their transparency – became a reproach. They were embarrassed – they were ashamed – of who they were. Literally, they were no longer comfortable in their own skin. Suddenly sullied by self-alienation and self-loathing, Paradise was lost…and life became a burden.

As we know all-too-well, so much of the misery, sin and sadness that plagues the human family to this very day comes from either (1) the inability to be who we really are, or (2) the fruitless attempt to become someone we’re not.

In his Treatise on the Love of God, Francis de Sales exclaimed:

“God has signified to us in so many ways and by so many means that he wills all of us to be saved that no one should be ignorant of this fact. For this purpose through Creation God made us ‘in his own image and likeness’, whereas through the Incarnation God has made himself in our image and likeness.”

The redemptive grace of the Incarnation makes it possible for us to experience once again the happiness that comes from possessing our own souls. The restorative power of the Incarnation makes it possible for us to experience once again the joy of being essentially at home with who we are in the sight of God. Wounded as we are by sin, our practice of devotion – our quest to possess our own souls – no longer comes effortlessly as it originally did in Paradise. It requires perpetual practice; it demands tremendous patience.

That said, God not only promises us the joy and peace born of this heavenly self-acceptance; God also shows us how to achieve it on this earth in the person of his Son.

Jesus embodies the power of self-possession. Jesus exhibits the joy of self-acceptance. Jesus exudes the peace of self-direction. Who better than Jesus shows us what it looks like to be comfortable in one’s own skin? Who better than Jesus demonstrates what it looks like to invite - and to empower - others to do the same?

Not unlike what he did with our first parents, The Evil One hits us where it hurts. Sometimes Satan tempts us to believe that we can’t possibly be happy by being who we are. Other times, Satan tempts us to believe that we’d be happier if we were someone else – perhaps anybody else – other than who we are. In very deep, dark places within our minds and hearts, each and every one of us is tempted to ask this question:

Sinner as I am, weak as I am, wounded as I am and imperfect as I am, why should I believe that God wants me to be comfortable – at home - in my own skin?

The Body and Blood Of Jesus Christ (June 3, 2018)

The events of Holy Week are tremendous in importance, but, unfortunately, overwhelmingly crammed into a few days. Holy Thursday is revisited at the beginning of post-Easter, ordinary time. When we review Holy Thursday, we call it “the Feast the Body and Blood of Christ.”

The setting for the last supper is the Seder meal of Passover, the great Jewish celebration of the “passing over” the Jews by the angel of death and the passing from slavery to freedom from Egypt.

The ritual telling of the Jewish story at Seder was called Haggadah – the explanation of Passover to those present, especially children. Our liturgy of the word came out of this.

The second part of our mass also comes from the Seder. The Jews ate unleavened bread, matzo. Because of their urgency in leaving Egypt, there was not time to bake with yeast.

Our first reading today comes from the book of exodus, the story of the ratification of a covenant. Moses relates god’s wishes, and the Jews promise to obey the laws which god enjoins on them as their part of the covenant. The sealing of the covenant takes place at an altar that Moses sets up.

Blood, for a Jew of that day, was equated with life. Understandable! If a warrior bleeds out in battle, he loses his life. They concluded, somehow logically, but not factually, that blood was life.

The blood of the sacrificed lamb offering was put into two bowls. The contents of one are splashed on the altar to symbolize the binding nature of the covenant on God’s part. The other bowl is sprinkled on the people as a sign of their binding to God. Thus, the common life-blood ratifies the union of God and his people in the unity of family blood.

During the Seder, Jesus interrupted the flow of this ritual Jewish meal. After he said the blessing, he interjected the words over the bread: “This is my body.” This is I.

Later, at the third of four cups of wine, called “the cup of blessing,” symbolizing the blood of the Passover lamb, Jesus said the blessing and again interrupted the normal flow of the Seder and said: “This is the cup of my blood.” This is I. Just as the former covenant was ratified with blood [Ex 24:8; Zech 9:11], Jesus establishes a new covenant ratified with his own blood to be shed the next day.

The renowned liturgist, Godfrey Diekmann, after discussing the various theories of what happened to the bread and wine used to challenge his students with these words: “What good is it if the bread is changed and we are not? Do you accept your own participation in God’s divinity? Are you ready to become the food you rise to receive?” Diekmann was saying, “We are what we eat” at Mass.

We may need to remind ourselves of Diekmann’s question; receiving Eucharist is not magic. The celebrant is not a wizard and you, “Muggles” – Harry Potter. Being in church does not any more make us a Christian than standing in a garage makes us a car.

To receive Eucharist requires our awareness of what we are about as Christians; that is, being consciously present to Jesus, being focused on Jesus at the moment of communion – and afterwards for a while.

Being present in that manner will change us just as a weekly visit to Mother Teresa would have changed us.

To say the same thing in a more scholarly way: there is a philosophical – slash – theological principle: “Whatever is received is received by the quality of the recipient.”

Sounds strange, but it is the principle that underlies familiar experiences. It is the principle that underlies our experience of the sun:

• The same sun will harden clay and melt wax.
• The same sun may give you a savage tan, but will sunburn this Irishman.
• The sun is the same, the receivers receive it differently.

Different effects.

What is true of the liturgy of the Eucharist is as true for the liturgy of the word. Jesus taught that when he taught about the same grain falling on different kinds of soil: the rocky, the hard, and the fertile. The Word of God will change us only if we are open to it by attentive listening.

At resurrection we have a built-in reminder. There is a period of silence and dimmed lights to minimize distractions after communion. That helps us to concentrate and to enter within ourselves – and both listen to and talk to our Lord.

We will probably not hear an audible answer, but we find that we somehow get ideas that were not there before we made ourselves present to Jesus. We need to open our minds, our hearts, our spirits and we will change through presence in Eucharist.

Trinity Sunday (May 27, 2018)

Last Sunday, the church marked the end of the celebration of Easter, with the celebration of Pentecost - the celebration of the birthday of the Church. The Church uses the next two Sundays to reflect on two of the most important ways God continues to share: today, who God is; next Sunday, the gift of God’s presence in his Body and Blood.

We know that there is one God - God revealed himself to the Jews. But, Jesus revealed that it is not as simple as that: God is not simply one; he is somehow three. Jesus never said, listen up, guys, today I want to tell you about the Trinity. He never used the word. He did say:

• “The Father and I are one.”
• He talked about sending “the Spirit.”
• In today’s Gospel, we heard Jesus’ command to baptize in the name of “the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.”

Two different groups heard those words and tried to figure them out: Jews, who were the staunchest of monotheists, were not an analytic people. Some were concerned only that Jesus made himself equal to god by speaking of his father - and blasphemously saying that he and the father were one. Therefore, the Jewish solution was rejection of Jesus. They were more interested in obeying the law than listening to god.

Greeks who were analytic [and you and I are cultural descendants of the Greeks], the question arose among Greek Christians of how to handle this father - son - spirit “stuff.” Did you know that the Trinity was not a clear Christian teaching until the 4th century?

So, there is one God, but there is not aloneness in God. There is a loving community within God. There are, as it were, three aspects of God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, which we call “the Trinity.”

The Trinity, a non-scriptural word that is a figure of speech, is an effort to speak of the variety of our experience of God as family relationships: father and son. By its very nature, love gives. Love, in the threeness of God, gives. God gives to us both jointly and individually. The church “appropriates”:

• To the Father - the work of creation
• To the Son - the work of redemption and the revelation of God’s love.
• To the Holy Spirit - the work of sanctification

The catechism told us correctly that we are made in God’s image and likeness. So, community/relationship is central to human life as well. Loving is at the very heart of being human and becoming divine. If we are made in the image and likeness of God, then we are capable of being God-like in our giving to others, too.

What does the feast of the Holy Trinity have to say to us? It tells us about: Being creative - like the Father. Coming up with creative solutions to our own and others’ difficulties. It challenges us to be creative in our lives.

Being redemptive - like the Son. Each of us has individual talents that empower us, like Jesus, to free others from bondage, to free others from loneliness, to free a neighbor or relative from need.

Being a sanctifier - that is tricky, because there is only one sanctifier, the Holy Spirit. One of the easiest forgotten truths of our faith is that we can make neither ourselves nor others holy. So, what is our part in sanctification? We can help sanctify:

• By removing obstacles that block the work of the spirit who alone sanctifies;
• By being flexible and re-arranging work-schedules so that a spouse can more easily get to Mass;
• By resisting peer pressure and stepping up for our need to worship our loving, Trinitarian God;
• By refusing social gatherings that impact our worship of God.
• We can protect our children from invasive, weekend sports schedules;
• We can protect our families by overseeing their TV entertainment and computer use. By driving to mass our neighbors’ children who might not otherwise be able to go.
• By encouraging someone whose faith is getting blurry by being present as a catholic Christian friend.

The Trinity is not only “mystery;” it is also agenda; it is not only a home, but also our destiny.

Many of these things we already do; others we may need to think about and work on - in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit

Pentecost Sunday (May 20, 2018)

John and Luke have two very different time-lines for the event: Pentecost. In john’s version, the event takes place in the evening of Easter, the same day as the resurrection. Luke, in his acts of the apostles, tells us that the Holy Spirit came fifty days after the feast of the Passover that had been celebrated on Holy Thursday. Pentecost was a Jewish feast of thanksgiving to god for both the wheat harvest and the giving of the law on mount Sinai. Two different scenarios. Conflict? Dissension?

I remember a scholarly convert who became a catholic after reading such contradictions in scripture. He said that differences in reporting gave credibility to scripture. In real life, eyewitnesses contradict each other; if the reports in scripture all agreed, he would have thought there was collusion and he could not have believed. He would not have converted.

Red is the color of excitement - from red convertibles and red roses & valentines to red fire apparatus and even vestments. It is no wonder the scriptures favor fire for the presence of God. God appears to Moses in a burning bush; he leads the people as a cloud by day and a fire by night. God is described as a consuming fire that will destroy the enemies of the children of Israel. Jesus uses the dramatic image when he says, “I have come to light a fire on the earth; how I wish the blaze were ignited.”

We read in the acts of the apostles: “Suddenly there came from the sky a noise like a strong driving wind, and it filled the entire house in which they were. Then there appeared to them tongues as of fire, which parted and came to rest on each one of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in different tongues, as the spirit enabled them to proclaim.” Jesus’ wish was fulfilled! The blasé was ignited.

All who received the spirit worshiped together, shared their possessions with others according to their need.

The spirit lavished the presence and love of god on everyone present on Pentecost. Like champagne poured on the heads of all in a locker room after a championship, the spirit poured freely on all. The hero of the day gets swamped with champagne and hugs and high fives; but, so do the coach and the ones who sat on the bench, and the ones on injured reserve and the trainers. When there is great joy, no one cares who gets in on the celebration.

The disciples had been huddled in terror in the upper room; they now charge out as fiery preachers courageously proclaiming the risen Lord. Not only their words but also their very lives became proclamation. The time of shock and awe is over. The age of the spirit is inaugurated as they preach, teach, heal, forgive enemies, and love all.

Jesus sets fire to the world by sending his spirit. The spirit comes to make a tired world into a new creation. The spirit fires up the disciples to continue the work that Jesus began. Without that fire, we are “the bland leading the bland.” Going nowhere.

Our bishops, have made the first of two targets for evangelization the already baptized. Why? Because many have lost the fire of enthusiasm - have become “cool” become lukewarm. The second target of evangelization is our neighbor, the one Jesus talks about in the Gospel.

The Holy Spirit reminds us - as Jesus said she would. The Spirit helps us bring back the vision of a personal relationship with Jesus, the relationship that the early Christians had - with fire in their hearts and love in their eyes

What was most basic to the presence of the Holy Spirit? Paul, in Galatians says that the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. In 1 Corinthians, he speaks of other gifts: wisdom, faith, healing, miracles, prophecy, discernment of spirits, tongues and their interpretation. He emphasizes that all of the above are not for individual gratification, but for the common good, the community good, which is the common denominator of the gifts of the Spirit.

The Holy Spirit is the living spirit of Jesus. All of the above gifts have in common the living of Jesus and the common good of all. The Holy Spirit is called the advocate, the consoler. The emerging sense of the Spirit is the strengthener. She acts as a spiritual blood transfusion for each of us and all of us together.

Angelo Roncalli, Pope John XXIII, convoked the ecumenical council, Vatican II, in 1958 to be nothing less than “a new Pentecost,” which he prophetically believed that the church needed. How can we continue to be sources of that spirit of Pentecost today?

Ascension of the Lord (May 10/13, 2018)

We celebrate Jesus’ departure in his physical presence today, the solemnity of the Ascension. Today marks the end of Jesus’ priceless, first stage of God’s saving plan in Jesus, the final chapter in Jesus’ physical presence in the history of salvation and the beginning of the second stage, which involves you and me.

The narration of the ascension appears three times in the New Testament; we hear two of them in today’s readings.

Mark wrote the earliest account and it appears in the longer ending of his Gospel – an account that was added by another author at a later time. The addition is considered part of the inspired word. Mark’s narrative is succinct and right to the point, only one sentence, his usual style and part of the reason that his Gospel is the shortest.

The seven last words of Jesus, the topic of many a Good Friday homily, are actually not his last words. We heard those today in Mark: “Go into the whole world and proclaim the Good News to all creation.”

The mission of Jesus is complete. It now is left to those standing there to take up his mission. Jesus makes it clear in his parting words that the initial mission to the Jews is not enough; it is to be expanded. He calls on his disciples to carry the Good News not simply to the Jews, but to the entire world. There is to be no partiality shown to any people or nation or individual. The disciples are not to serve any earthly kingdom, but the heavenly one.

The story of the church begins. It is a church where, at that time, the temple of Jerusalem still stands – and will for almost forty more years. It is a church that is surrounded by the oppression of the Roman Empire – and will for hundreds of years. In the meantime, the church will begin to spread throughout that empire and beyond -- like the quietly growing mustard seed.

Luke, in his Acts of the Apostles, narrates an element that is included in neither his Gospel, nor in the Gospel of mark [from which Luke copied before copying got the name plagiarism and became a no-no]. Luke adds to the narration: “They were still gazing up into the heavens when two men dressed in white stood beside them. ‘Men of Galilee,’ they said, ‘Why do you stand here looking up at the skies…?’”

The apparent angels equivalently proclaim: “Don’t just stand there, do something.” Perhaps that is a good question for us on this feast of the ascension.

Each of us is called by today’s readings to “do something.” The celebration of the one who inspires and energizes us will be next week, Pentecost.

We are called to continue the mission that the disciples were given – each in our own way to spread by word and our example Jesus’ life-giving message.

Sixth Sunday of Easter (May 6, 2018)

Before we go into today’s readings, let’s recall last Sunday’s message of the biological image of Jesus’ intimacy with us: the parable of the vine and the branches. He taught that as the very life of the vine flows from the vine into the branches, so does the very resurrected life of Jesus flow from him into us.

Today, Jesus speaks more personally. Today’s beautiful letter from john reveals what Jesus’ life is: love. “God is love.” His life/love flows from him into us. It has been suggested that the word ‘love’ in our culture is a word in serious need of a bath. It has become so overused, misused, and abused that it needs to be power-washed to renew its sparkle.

This word ‘love appears in one form or another in this Sunday’s readings an amazing twenty times. God’s meaning of ‘preciousness,’ unconditional faithfulness needs to be our focus for ‘love.’ Our experience of human love is ideally a reproduction of it. Too often, it is a poor reflection.

Is there perhaps a short circuit in our love lives? Our personal experience includes that we are conditioned to think we need to earn love. That has been the experience of every one of us at some level:

• love from our teachers earned for good grades and conduct;
• love from our employers earned for success in the work place;
• love from parents earned by some, unfortunately, for being ‘good’ boys and girls.

To the extent that our personal experience is earning love, it is a stretch for us to accept that god does not work like that. It was Basil Hume who said that it is easier to believe in God than to believe that God loves us. The simple truth is: we cannot earn God’s love. We are blessedly “stuck” with it. He has loved us first.

That wonderful revelation: God is love, is who God is and what God does. We hear: “Love, then, consists in this: not that we have loved God, but that he has loved us.” That is the heart of today’s readings. Love exists not because we love, but because we are loved. God loves us whether we recognize it, whether we accept it or not.

We hear in the Gospel: “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you.” The depth of that statement is often missed. Jesus is saying that the same, intimate relationship that he experiences with his Father is also passed on to us disciples. Living that reality of being unconditionally loved empowers us, as Jesus says, to “love one another as I love you.” We are part of this magnificent circle of love with the Father, Jesus, and one another.

Jesus taught this best at the Last Supper, when he washed the feet of his disciples and gave us example of how to be towards one another -- in service. Then he turned around and gave himself to us in Eucharist, allowing us to commune with him in word and body/blood in the communion called holy.

We need to make this reality of God’s love an essential part of our ongoing dialogue with ourselves. We all have this constant dialogue in our heads and hearts. It is where we talk to ourselves, where our self-image speaks out. It is here that the conviction of God’s love for us needs to prevail. We need to bask in his love. We become empowered to respond in love both to him and with one another. We convey to others the love we have in our hearts, completing the circle of love. This is God’s plan.

If Lenten practice was self-examination, Easter practice needs to be this life-giving, life-enabling exercise in instilling in us the ever-present conviction of God’s love for us.

Our challenge is to appreciate, to really accept that God loves us unconditionally -- just as we are.

Today’s Gospel is the very core of Jesus’ last supper discourse. We all need to keep this reality always in our ongoing dialogue with ourselves, so that we may constantly listen and lovingly live.

Fifth Sunday of Easter (April 29, 2018)

Today’s Gospel comes from the long talk by Jesus at the last supper in John’s Gospel. It is appropriate for the Easter season. It sets before us the type of close, ongoing relationship into which the risen Jesus invites his disciples.

Chapter 15 of John’s Gospel introduces the allegory of the vine. The vine has a long history. Isaiah [5:1-7] makes it very clear: “For the vineyard of the Lord of hosts is the house of Israel and the people of Judah are his pleasant planting.”

The vine is the Jewish national symbol of the relationship between God and Israel. The pillars of the Jerusalem temple were carved with vines and branches thus setting the image in stone. It is like the symbol of the Bald Eagle or the American flag to us.

The famous “I am” sayings of John’s Gospel always reveal some aspect of Jesus’ divine identity. When Jesus says: “I am the true vine, and my father is the vine grower” and “I am the vine; you are the branches,” he makes a soul-shattering statement to Jewish ears and to our ears. He reveals the intimate relationship between himself and the father and also indicates that he replaces the temple with himself as the place for worship, for he becomes the very source of life for people who accept him. [Relationship in the vertical dimension].

Secondly, remember Paul’s metaphor of the body-of-Christ where we are all related as interdependent parts of the same body with Christ as our head, the one who drives the body. Here, we have john’s version of the identical idea: the vine reminds us that we are interconnected not only to the source of our life, Jesus the Lord; we are also interconnected with one another. We need both Jesus and each other in order to bear fruit, the goal of discipleship. [Relationship in the horizontal dimension.]

The Jews of Jesus’ days were people of the land – practical, simple people. For abstract ideas, like what we call “sanctifying grace,” Jesus used common experience nouns, “life” and “light;” for abstract verbs like “transcends” or “interconnects,” Jesus used the verb “lives in.” The verb “lives in” appears four times in four verses. [vv. 4,5,6,7]

If Jesus did anything everyone can agree upon, it is that he gathered a community around him. The model of leadership/followership here is not hierarchy, power, authoritativeness; it is community. Concerned togetherness is essential for the very life of his followers.

We derive our spirit-life from Jesus, the vine. We are, at once, united to Jesus and to each other. We celebrate this fact vividly at the Easter vigil: the light/ life of the paschal candle, the symbol of Jesus, is passed to us individually. With our small candles, we share that light with others around us.

Interrelating, “lives in,” is essential for us. We have both Paul’s image of mystical body and John’s image of the vine and the branches to make that clear. Both reveal rootedness in Jesus the Lord and unity with one another.

By the grace of God we live in an era that has evolved far beyond the people in scripture in the ability to express abstract ideas. We can more readily appreciate the awesome truth that Jesus teaches. We can more clearly understand what Ignatius of Antioch meant by: “God became man, so that man might become God.”

Jesus’ consummate gift to us is a sharing in his life. Theology calls it “sanctifying grace,” a term that lacks the dynamism of actually sharing in Jesus’ resurrected life. We are called to live that life with enthusiasm. The Holy Spirit whom we shall celebrate in a few weeks at Pentecost kindles that enthusiasm.

Let us live Jesus!

Fourth Sunday of Easter (April 22, 2018)

Images are helpful in clarifying an idea. They can also be unhelpful when carried beyond the point intended. For instance, referring to the institutional church as “holy mother the church.” Motherhood connotes loving, caring, nurturing; these qualities should be applicable to the relationship of the church and ourselves. Unfortunately, some church officials carry the image too far and deplore those who are critical of the church saying “it’ is wrong to criticize your mother.” Our institutional church needs criticism, and Vatican II says so.

I surely had difficulty for a long time about today’s Gospel image. Jesus is the good shepherd - fine; bishops are also formally referred to as shepherds. Having lived a novitiate year on a farm, I felt uncomfortable with that. I was well aware of sheep: dumb animals, mindlessly following someone with a crozier in hand. I went one bridge too far - beyond what Jesus was teaching about the relationship between himself and us.

In today’s example of one of the seven “I am” sayings in John, which are Jesus’ way of self-revelation, Jesus here reveals himself to be the good shepherd. In Matthew and Luke, we read of Jesus’ care in finding the lost sheep, only in john is there mention of the shepherd being willing to lay down his life for his sheep.

Five times john repeats that the good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. It was the good shepherd’s, the owner-shepherd’s job to care for and defend the sheep. If a sheep was missing, he would search and bring it back. In ancient times, if the shepherd lost the battle for a sheep and a wolf was killing it, the shepherd would be expected to bring back an ear, or something that he pulled from the wolf’s mouth -- to prove that he had done his job.

The good shepherd warded off would-be attackers by day. At night, on the hills, there were enclosures without gates. Sheep were very vulnerable. At night, the shepherd would put his staff across the doorway and the sheep had to duck, so he could inspect them. When they were corralled, he would lie across the entrance and become the gate. No wolf or thief could touch the sheep without going through him. Jesus elsewhere calls himself the sheep gate. Wonderful images of loving protection!

Jesus describes his flock as sheep that he knows. Knowing in the Hebrew mind implies not only intellectual knowledge, but also love. The “knowing shepherd” alludes to the tender image of is 40:11 - “Like a shepherd he feeds his flock / in his arms he gathers the lambs, carrying them in his bosom, and leading the ewes with care.”

There is a profound mutuality of love here, which Jesus compares to the intimate bond between himself and the Father. There is unconditional love that Jesus communicates to us, exemplifies for us, lives and dies or us.

Jesus said: “Learn of me.” We can learn of him in today’s Gospel by becoming like him toward those in our care as parents, as relatives, as baby sitters, as older brothers and sisters, as motorists - in becoming good shepherds. We shall very unlikely be called to literally give up our lives by the shedding of our blood.

If we appreciate the loved poured out to us, we need to respond in kind.

Stephen Levine describes it so well: “You cannot unconditionally love someone. You can only be unconditional love . . . It is a sense of oneness with all that is. The experience of love arises when we surrender our separateness into the universal. It is not an emotion, it is a state of being . . . It is not so much that ‘two are one so much as it is ‘the one manifested as two.” [Who dies? An investigation of conscious living and conscious dying, 75]

Jesus called his followers “my” sheep, not “our” sheep. We are cooperators only. We are called to help in shepherding:

• to lay down our popularity lives by taking the risk of unpopular stances. For instance: TV viewing, computer use, a stance on abortion - to protect the unprotected.
• to lay down our lives for others by giving what seem to be such important pieces of our lives - our time, our talent, our treasure that the “little ones” may be safe

To “be” good shepherds is an essential part of Living Jesus.

Third Sunday of Easter (April 15, 2018)

Luke’s Gospel begins with a resolution to write an account of the events of Jesus’ life. Today’s account comes from the last chapter of his Gospel.

This passage was not an “appearance story.” It relates what happened after Jesus joined two disciples as they walked with their backs toward Jerusalem; they were going out of town. What they heard about the women’s report that Jesus was alive was not important enough for them to stay and find out more. Their hope of Jesus setting Israel free from Rome was dashed. They despaired.

Jesus opened their eyes to the answer to his question: “Was it not necessary that the messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?” They did not understand Jesus as the fulfillment of the prophecies of the Old Testament. Unfortunately, we do not have the record of Jesus’ teaching this day about the Old Testament and himself; that is a loss that was later filled in.

They did not comprehend the connection between the Eucharist and the cross. The connection is not obvious; perhaps it would be helpful for us to look at it. The breaking of bread at their meal near Emmaus was critical. As John Shea says, “the cross and the bread mutually interpret each other.” Like the former wheat that died and became new life as bread; as crushed “vine-juice” died and became new life as wine; Jesus died and became new life in a new, resurrected body. Greater love has no one than to lay down his life for his friends whether it is wheat, grapes, Jesus. The disciples put it together when Jesus made the gesture of breaking the bread at the meal they shared with Jesus. They “got it.”

They returned to Jerusalem and met with the eleven disciples. They heard that Jesus had appeared to Peter. His appearance in his resurrected body was somewhat the same and somewhat different than before he died. Remember, Mary, who loved him and was loved by him, did not recognize him. The disciples on the road did not recognize him. He had to look different. His new, resurrected body was able to pass through closed doors.

One of the most persistent heresies of the early church arose from this different appearance. Jesus was understood by some to be god with a human appearance – a kind of Halloween situation. These people were called “docetists” from the Latin word meaning, “appear, seem.” Much attention was then given to the actions of Jesus that showed that he was not a ghost, some kind of phantom. For that reason, we hear repeatedly in this late-written Gospel that Jesus invited people to touch with their fingers, put hand in side; he ate fish in front of them.

He also opened the minds of the eleven to the scriptures written about him. He commissioned them to be witnesses of him.

The community had a real concern with the delay of the second coming of Jesus. They first expected he would be back “any day now.” Now it was getting toward the end of the first century. What were they supposed to do until Jesus came again?

Their clear answer from Luke is: proclaim the good news - to all! It does not matter that Jesus did not come right back. What matters is that we, his followers, embody the presence of the risen Jesus and be ambassadors of his message of love, forgiveness and reconciliation. May we look for a friend or relative that needs to be asked if he or she might be interested in finding out more about the faith and inviting that person to “come and see.”

Second Sunday of Easter (April 8, 2018)

Do you remember when the worst thing was to doubt one’s faith -- a time when “faith” was thought to include all church pronouncements? Doubting was tantamount to denying the faith. The consequence was eternal damnation. We have long grown past that understanding.

In the Vatican II church we look at what we say we believe, and now understand that doubting can be very healthy. Working through our doubts gives us ownership of our faith. Frederick Buechner says it well: “Doubts are the ants in the pants of faith.” They keep faith stirred up.

Our difficulties with faith are as much a part of becoming more faithful as the multiple falls a child takes when learning to walk. They strengthen our faith – as they did Thomas’. They can increase our understanding of the one who calls us to “walk by faith, not by sight.” They can help us to help others when they are troubled by doubt.

So, what about Thomas? Poor Thomas! All most people remember about Thomas is his short time of doubt. “Doubting Thomas” has become synonymous with being stubborn or a skeptic.

Why pick on Thomas? All the apostles were fearful. Today’s Gospel describes the evening of the day of resurrection. They had heard the report of Mary Magdalene in the early morning; they had heard the reports of the two on their way to Emmaus who had hurried back to tell them of their experience; they had heard the testimony of peter himself to whom Jesus had appeared sometime in between. Yet, the echoes of the murderous crowd in Pilate’s courtyard: “crucify him.” were still ringing in their ears as they huddled in fear.

Perhaps Thomas was the boldest, and the reason he was absent was that he was out at the local Wawa getting much needed supplies. Maybe Thomas’ doubt was not really doubt about the Lord, but doubt about the community who claimed he was alive. The cowering actions of the others belied their conviction that the resurrection was true. Jesus responded to his need.

We know that fear is the opposite of faith. [Remember Jesus walking on the water and Jesus’ identified Peter’s fear with lack of faith?]

The disciples, including Thomas, became fearless after Pentecost. They bolted from the room. They spread the good news not simply because they were told to, but because they were so enthused that they could not do otherwise.

We are the spiritual heirs of that community. At first, you and I received our faith by hearing the word from others - a kind of secondhand faith. Secondhand smoke is bad; secondhand faith is good, but it is only a stopgap form of faith. Later in life, we chose to accept for ourselves, to take ownership by what we had heard from our parents, teachers, others. We are like the townspeople speaking to the Samaritan woman; we can say: “No longer does our faith depend on your telling; we have found out for ourselves...” That is real faith.

We heard Jesus’ mission directive. “As the father sent me, so I send you” applies to us as well.

We need to witness, too. We cannot wait to witness until we are perfect and then invite folks. That day will never come. We have believed in spite of the mixed record of Jesus’ disciples that reaches back to the first ones.

Some of us are low-key; some, up-beat; some, contagiously enthusiastic. Whatever our personality, we are called to witness. The name for this is evangelization. Unfortunately, some associate this word with notorious, television preachers. “Evangelization” is simply church-talk for telling the good news – being a witness.

• It does not mean that we have to know all the answers; the apostles did not.

• It does not mean that we have to be perfect; the apostles surely were not.

• It does not mean that that our leaders can solve all problems; surely they cannot.

• It does mean that we witness to others that we have seen/experienced the Lord’s goodness and love.

What difference has reliving the resurrection really made in our enthusiasm during this past week? What has the Thomas in our family, development, and workplace experienced when they saw us after our experience of Easter?

I invite you, I challenge you, to celebrate the resurrection by reaching out with enthusiasm, to invite: “come and see,” to offer someone the life of the risen Jesus and the compassion and companionship of the community of us wounded healers

Thomas was habitually a questioner, perhaps less a doubter than a deep thinker. Perhaps he was the only one courageous enough to go out to the local Wawa for food.

Seeing is not believing. Observation is a form of scientific proof - Thomas got that. We, on the other hand, enjoy Jesus’ final beatitude: “blessed are those who have not seen, yet believed.” Paul says in Romans: “Faith comes from hearing.”

We may have become smug: I have the blessing of the final beatitude. “Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed.” I qualify; I have not seen the resurrection, yet I believe! How blessed I am! “Thank God I am not like the rest of men.”

Thomas’ second lesson: make sure when you have doubts that you are willing to doubt your doubts.

Easter (April 1, 2018)

Easter is Jesus the Christ’s finest hour. It is, therefore, his follower’s’ finest hour. “Finest hour” is a phrase made famous by Winston Churchill to describe Britain’s survival of the siege bombing of London and other English cities in 1940. Churchill wrote, “Should the British Empire last a thousand years, it will still be said this was their finest hour.”

The church has celebrated the resurrection of Jesus as its finest hour for over two thousand years. This is our proclamation every time we come together on the first day of the week, made holy by this singular, triumph-ant event.

Unlike Britain, Easter has not become the church’s finest hour because of us humans; it has become our finest hour because of Jesus and our father. It was the father’s will to teach us the unlimited nature of divine love through his son’s teaching us the lesson of listening to our father and himself. It took a horrific event like the crucifixion to get and fasten our attention, to enable us to see beyond our selfishness the selfless love of Jesus.

The resurrection has meaning only in the light of Jesus’ unspeakable suffering and death. Easter raises our spirits only after we allow the passion of Jesus on Good Friday to plunge our spirits as we see the love that enabled Jesus to suffer so terribly.

Many who cheered him at his entry into Jerusalem early in the week jeered him on Good Friday. This is the polarity we find so often in human experience and especially in Holy Week.

Besides the polarity we experience, there is also paradox. Polarity expresses difference and distance; paradox expresses the combining of contradictory ideas [or things] into a meaningful whole. The richness of paradox is lost on the poorly educated and the immature – yet another reason for weekly mass and continuing, catholic adult education. Those who stop with high school education of religion try to battle the experiences of adulthood with the tools of elementary or adolescent education, and in adulthood, unfortunately, view Christianity through the lens of immaturity. Many settle for Easter outfits and cute, yellow chicks and Easter candy for their own children. Christianity is an adult religion and spirituality.

Jesus has profound paradoxes in his teaching: we gain life by losing life; we gain love when we give love. His Easter paradox involves death and life. Death gives life its meaning. Remove one and we lose both. We want the crown of life, but we do not want the cross. We hear the promise of eternal life and have a tendency not to take up our cross and follow him. For Jesus, both are necessary. We want Easter Sundays in life without Good Fridays.

Jesus calls us to life, but surely does not want us to choose the cross in order to get the crown. That is not love; that is a deal – something for something. Jesus accepted the cross out of love for his father and for us. Jesus was not “dealing;” he was giving us example of how to live life.

In Jesus’ mind he did not die to be raised to eternal life (he already had that). He died to fulfill his father’s will and proclaim the message of love regardless of the violent reaction to hm. He dearly suffered for his efforts. God raised us to the possibility of joining us to them in eternal life.

Were we to be asked what was our finest hour, we might think of some “big win” in our lives. We would be surprised, as were the sheep, Jesus’ answer to the question. Our finest hour may have been at a most difficult or painful time when we gave the gift of ourselves to someone who needed help, peace, love.

In Matthew’s gospel, the people Jesus called “sheep”- as in separating the “sheep and goats” - asked Jesus: “when did we feed you, clothe you, visit you?” Jesus replied that what they had done for the least of their brothers, they had done for him. The gift of ourselves to others is our Christian vocation. Sometimes we see the difference we make; sometimes, we do not. Love becomes its own reward both here and hereafter.

May the paschal mystery, the paradox, fill your hearts this Easter. May Jesus’ gift of self inspire us all always to Live Jesus more deeply.

FIFTH SUNDAY OF LENT (March 18, 2018)

The connection between the first reading and the third reading is not hard to discover today. God tells Jeremiah that the upcoming, New Covenant will not be like the Sinai covenant with Moses. The new covenant will be one written on the hearts of his people. Relationship. Our Gospel tells of Jesus’ revealing that covenant.

John tells us of two Greek gentiles who have a request: “Sir, we would like to see Jesus.” Philip, one of the apostles with a Greek name receives the request and tells his fellow, ethnic apostle, Andrew. Together they convey the request. As often happens, Jesus does not address the situation directly; he uses this occasion to reveal a positive change in the way that his followers are to relate to God, one another, and to creation. The passage also prefigures the church’s future mission to the Gentiles.

Jesus says, “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit. Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will preserve it for eternal life.” Jesus, of course, is speaking of his personal death and resurrection as the proto-example to his followers. He generalizes; he extends the teaching to us with “whoever hates [loves less] his life.”

This “life” that is to be lost can take different forms. For alcoholics and those addicted to drugs, it means to trade their non-lives of addiction for sobriety, being clean. For us not addicted, the genius that articulated “life” by naming life’s principal components; time, talent and treasure have surely served us well. If we serve ourselves and not serve others with our time, our talent, and our treasure, we fail this challenge of dying to self and bringing life to others.

When couples become parents, they seem to learn this lesson of life very quickly. With a child who is the expression of their love, they unhesitatingly give their time, their talent, and their treasure to their child. Fortunately, it is still “news” when a parent serves oneself, fails miserably, and neglects a newborn.

Serious students and serious new-hires know the wisdom of the denial of self that is required for graduating or holding a job.

Did you notice the difference in Jesus’ attitude in john’s gospel from the synoptic gospels [Matthew, Mark, and Luke] where Jesus prays that the cup of suffering will pass, that he will not have to drink it? Today’s Gospel from john admits that he is troubled, but does not struggle with the agony of suffering. He says, “It was for this purpose that I came to this hour.” This is another example of John viewing Jesus as more divine than human. It is in the Synoptic Gospels we see Jesus as more human than divine.

Jesus’ issue is the urgency of “his hour.” The tone is set by the image of the “grain of wheat.” There is no “cheap grace.” Jesus must die to produce the “fruit” of the community of believers who will be united with him and form what Paul will call “the body of Christ.” Jesus’ prayer is quickly affirmed by his Father.

As we move downhill toward the conclusion of Lent, we need to determine if there is any part of ourselves as grains of wheat that must die to produce the fruit of metanoia, the change of heart/mind that will allow us, as believers, to live Jesus more deeply at our celebration of Resurrection on Easter and our union with our God and our fellow believers both here and hereafter.

FOURTH SUNDAY OF LENT (March 11, 2018)

Regardless of make or model -- be it a clunker or a Lamborghini -- your automobile needs a periodic check-up beyond its regular oil changes. A check-up is preventive maintenance. The examination tells you what part is wearing, what needs to be replaced. It also brings you good news: your tires are in good shape; so are your brakes.

The Church has us do the same thing for our spiritual maintenance. The time for this is called lent. For the last three and a half weeks we have had the opportunity to look hard at ourselves. We may have seen that our patience is not working smoothly, and we take steps to improve it. We may have seen that out prayer life needs some adjustment, so we take steps to improve our timing.

Today is Laetare Sunday. Laetare Sunday is the time when we get to hear the good news from our church in our annual check-up. We hear some especially good news: the most popular verse in the entire bible, words that have been hung on banners in recent years in front of the seats on stadium walls: John 3: 16. “For God so loved the world that he gave his only son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish, but might have eternal life.”

You and I are part of that “loved world.” It is to you and me that those words are addressed.

Please note that those words do not say that God was so angry at the world, so furious with the world, so disappointed with the world. No, it says God so loved the world.

Those are the words that provide the reason for naming this Sunday “Laetare Sunday.” Laetare means “rejoice,“ have joy at the good news. Out of curiosity, I looked up the word “joy “ in the newest, catholic theological dictionary. It was not listed. There was no entry between “Jesus” and “Judaism.” Joy is a fruit of the Holy Spirit, but it is not listed in the scholarly, catholic dictionary. I think that that is sad.

Joy is natural in our lives as Christians. St. Francis de Sales said it well: “A sad saint is a sorry saint.” Christian joy is based on what Jesus did for us. Surely, joy in us is necessary to attract others toward appreciating what is the source of our joy. “See the Christians; see how they have love for one another.” Observed love is joyful.

I like the story of “spotted tail.” Spotted Tail was a chief in the Sioux Nation. He resisted all attempts of Christian missionaries who came to his reservation. In fact, he would throw a bucket of water on any missionary who approached him -- mocking the baptism they preached. One day in the autumn of 1876, a Roman Catholic nun was visiting the home of the commanding officer of the Indian Agency. Both she and Spotted Tail were invited to a reception hosted by the officer’s wife. Lemonade, not firewater was probably served. The nun, who seems to have had a wonderful, whimsical streak, stood up and raised her glass toward spotted tail. The chief immediately responded by standing and raising his glass towards her. She began to dance joyfully. Glass raised, and laughing aloud, she approached the chief, who did the same. The two met in the center of the room laughing together and toasting each other. This moment of joy changed spotted tale’s image of Christianity to the degree that he sent one of his daughters to the nun’s convent-school in Kansas City.

Dour faces neither reflect the face of God nor draw people toward RCIA. Think of all the “holy cards” and religious paintings [sacred art] that you have ever seen: how many of the faces are smiling? How many reflect the joy of receiving the gift in today’s Gospel? The next time you receive an absolutely delightful gift -- try opening it with a dour face. We can’t. It should not happen with our Lord’s gift of life -- here and hereafter.

When we “Live Jesus,” when we “put on Christ” may we not forget to absorb and reflect his joyful smile.

THIRD SUNDAY OF LENT (March 4, 2018)

For Jews, the temple in Jerusalem was the center of Jewish belief and worship. The holy of holies was the most sacred part of the temple for it contained the Ark of the Covenant. The ark held the tablets of the Ten Commandments, a most important message from God and understood to be the presence of God.

All four Gospels relate the temple cleansing, so, obviously, it held great significance in the first generations of Christianity.

The incident is treated differently in the synoptic Gospels [Matthew, Mark and Luke] than in the “different” Gospel, John. In the Synoptics, the cleansing occurred during Jesus’ only visit to Jerusalem as an adult, near the very end of his ministry -- celebrated at the beginning of “Holy Week.” The three Synoptic Gospels see this event as the final straw, the motive, for the Jewish hierarchy to seek the execution order for Jesus.

In the Gospel of John, the event occurred at the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry [ch 2]. The difference in placing the time of the event is significant.

We learn at least two lessons from this episode: first, a shift in the locus of God’s presence. The temple was the most tangible place of the presence of God in the Jewish faith. It was the destination point of sacred pilgrimage and the place of ritual-worship along with the sordid businesses that preceded that worship and riled Jesus.

By the time John wrote his gospel - about the year 100 - the Romans had destroyed the temple. The Jews then saw the presence of God in the synagogues where the torah was studied. By that time, John tells us that the presence of God in the Christian era is neither in the temple of Jerusalem nor in the synagogue. The Jewish system had failed to fulfill its mission. From the Christian perspective the Jewish buildings were replaced with a new “place”: Jesus, forming what we now call the “mystical body of Christ.”

Jesus said today: “Destroy this temple [his body] and in 3 days I will raise it up.” Jesus will later tell the Samaritan woman about the appropriate place for worship: neither Mt. Gerizim in Samaria nor the temple mount in Judea will be the place for worship; divine presence is the person of Jesus himself.

But, there is more. We remember after the events of Holy Week; Saul, the Jewish persecutor out to capture Christians, was knocked on his humility, and Jesus asked him the soul-searching question: “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” This is revelation: Jesus identifies the Christian community with himself. He, together with his body, the community, replaces the temple and becomes the locus of the presence of god in the new era. Mega change.

The second lesson of today is the powerful insight that relationship is now the key category in Christianity. In John’s Gospel, Jesus said, “I have called you friends,” a relational word; “When you pray, say ‘our father...’” a relational word whereby we also hold Jesus to be our brother - a relational word.

The holy of holies housed the tablets of the Ten Commandments that we heard about in the First Reading. Of the ten, eight are stated negatively: “Thou shalt not.” Only two are stated positively: “Keep holy the Sabbath” and “Honor your mother and father.” The one speaks of honoring God; the second speaks of honoring our first neighbors, our parents, and our first community.

Curiously, many centuries later, when Jesus was asked the question: “What is the greatest commandment?” He answered that the greatest is love God; the second is like it: love your neighbor. Jesus expanded our very first community of parent-neighbors to include everyone . . . Even enemies. Love is the ultimate relationship.

The advantage of negatively phrased commandments is that we can be fairly sure that we have obeyed them completely. Positively phrased commands keep holy the Lord’s day or honor your father and mother in the Old Testament, love god and love your neighbor in the New Testament have no specified lids that empower us to say. “i have kept the commandment; I have sufficiently loved; I can put the lid on. Lack of clarity always remains. Who of us can ever say, “I have loved enough?”

Focus on the things of religion parallels the sad situation of a spouse or other loved one who would attempt to substitute “things” like gifts for presence, conversation, affection, the accoutrements of relationship.

As we approach the midpoint of Lent, we are reminded: “Rend your hearts [the seat of relationship] and not your garments, ‘things’.”

SECOND SUNDAY OF LENT (February 25, 2018)

This story of Abraham is scary. In the first reading, Abraham did not know as he climbed Mt. Moriah that his son would be spared at the last second. He came from the land of Ur where child sacrifice was common. Some years before, Abraham and his wife, Sarah, had been sent into a spasm of laughter when God told them at their advanced age that they would have a child. Sarah stopped laughing when she found she was pregnant with the future Isaac. Isaac comes from the Hebrew verb, “to laugh.”

Isaac was growing nicely and loved dearly when the Lord told Abraham that he must go to mount Moriah and sacrifice his only son, knowing that that would end his dream of being the founding father of the nation the Lord had promised.

Abraham’s heart was heavier than the wood he carried on his back; the pain of grief was sharper in his heart than the knife in his belt as he and Isaac trudged up Mt. Moriah.

Abraham is called in our Eucharistic Prayer “Our father in faith.” Today’s first reading tells us why. His faith, that is, his trust in God’s promise, was as high as the mountain he was climbing.

Like Abraham and everyone else, each of us carries a vision of the life ahead of us. We do not know for sure whether that vision will be future reality. But, many of us take our vision as pretty much a given reality-- until something happens. More mature men and women know that totally unforeseen events can upend that vision. A spouse or a child has an accident; our lives will never be the same. A child is born with Downs Syndrome or is severely handicapped; the family will never be the same. A family home is destroyed in a Florida hurricane, a California earthquake or mudslide, a Louisiana flood; the family will never be the same.

Peter, James, and John were all fishermen. We can be sure that they, like us, had a vision of where their lives were going. They would probably inherit the business and the boats from their father Zebedee. Peter, we know was married -- no mention of children. Surely each had to reconstruct his vision of life when Jesus invited, “Come, and follow me.” A new vision was formed.

At first, James and John missed the message; we have heard them arguing about who would be sitting next to Jesus when the earthly kingdom - as they envisioned it - would come. Their second vision of life had to be reconstructed; Jesus would not be the conquering Messiah who would drive out the Romans and restore Israel to glory on earth.

Mark sandwiched the story of the transfiguration between Jesus’ predictions of his passion and death. That is the event that puts in perspective Jesus’ suffering and death. The cloud of glory is meant to evaporate the cloud of gloom that came with realization of suffering, rejection, and inevitable murder.

In today’s Gospel we read of Peter, James, and John who experienced what has come to be called “The Transfiguration.” We hear that Peter who could so regularly put his foot in his mouth, “hardly knew what to say.” That had to be a low voltage transfiguration for Peter.

In our most difficult times, when our vision of the direction of our life is shattered by illness, death, loss of job, loss of a relationship, financial nose-dive. We need to remember our peak moments - times when God was present to us, was walking beside us -- sometimes dramatically, more often not dramatically.

And God has been present. If we cannot remember any times, we may need to be more introspective. As the author of “Footprints” recalled: when there was only one set of footprints in the sand, those were the times when the Lord was doing the carrying -- and we were not even aware. These recollections give us courage for the times when we have to pick up and go on.

We also know the fact that at the end of our journey we too will be in the presence of the great light at the end of the tunnel - our transfiguration for all eternity.

FIRST SUNDAY OF LENT (February 18, 2018)

Today’s Gospel depicts a personal battleground for one’s soul, one’s spirit. Jesus went into the desert, a place of death, where people went to learn about life. They went to learn in the place where there were no distractions of sight or sound, or smell, or taste. In the desert, stripped of creature comforts and the usual supports one has. One’s only companion to oneself: one’s God.

Jesus spent forty days there. “Forty” connotes a long time in Jewish thought. Reminiscent of Moses’ forty days on the mountain of the commandments and Israel’s forty years in the desert where the Jews battled hunger, thirst, fear -- and were tempted to give up on their dream of the promised land and go back to Egypt. “Going back” can be a serious temptation.

Mark does not recount Jesus’ battle in detail as Matthew and Luke do, but simply says that Satan put Jesus to the test.

When we demythologize Satan, we understand Satan as the internal, devious forces of individuals, groups of people, and the structures they conceive that cause suffering to others. These forces alienate people from God and one another – forces diametrically opposed to God. Jesus’ purpose is to bring the Kingdom of God to God’s people.

Lent is surely not simply a time for “getting ashes” and not being able to eat meat on Fridays and fast on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. It is not a time for simply “giving up something” to lose a few pounds for cosmetic reasons to make yourself and the world a more beautiful place. From the spiritual standpoint such practices are senseless -- even harmful. If we were to limit ourselves to these externals, we would be on the right side for the wrong reason -- which T.S. Eliot calls “the greatest treason.”

Lent is well called a “desert experience.” We do not leave our homes and jobs and travel to a desert. We make time to create a desert atmosphere in our hearts, in our spirits. We strip away some of the good things in our lives and provide a quiet place, a “venue” where we look back at the world and into our own lives.

Or, should I say we have the opportunity to do that. Whether we do that or not is our choice. Whether lent is spiritually profitable is largely in our hands. Jesus brought the kingdom of god to us. “Bringing” is only half the story. The other half is that the Kingdom of God needs to be accepted by us.

Some insights and a question that John Shea raised and answered are very helpful: why were Jesus and the Kingdom of God he preached, and the love of the father he lived and spread not more broadly accepted? Why have these not been more broadly accepted in the two millennia since?

Many of us heard the words last Wednesday, “Turn away from sin and be faithful to the Gospel.” I suspect that the reason that I am not more deeply living Jesus and, perhaps, that you are not lies in the competing values in life. We tend to hold on to more tangible values like money and power. Turning away from sin has a second part – turning toward Jesus in metanoia and belief.

Money and power may be reduced to money alone – as Scripture says elsewhere: “ The love of money is the root of all evil.” Money begets power and obtains more power as we have so sadly learned in the national economy. So many believe that they are identified by their money and by power in many forms: personal appearance by expensive beauty aids and wardrobes; education by attending the “right schools” and prestigious, higher institutions; and more. The worse new is that we are not aware of it.

Repentance is gained, first, by recognizing our values. “Values clarification” exercises of some years ago are still helpful; if my house was on fire and I could make one trip out, what would I carry? Who are my closest friends – and why? Also, our knee-jerk and repetitive responses unveil our hidden values: “Gotta take care of number one – I owe it to myself – you only go around once in this life.“

We own values that are the mindless internalization of cultural assumptions that are alien to Living Jesus. Growth in the spiritual life is cultivating the consciousness of Jesus, “Living Jesus.”

Repentance is done, secondly, by letting go of those values that conflict with or opposes the Good News of Jesus, however difficult that may be and replacing them with Jesus-like values.

Jesus proclaimed, “The time is fulfilled; the Kingdom of God has drawn near.” So it is with us. Our life in time needs to be permeated with eternity; therefore, time is fulfilled in Living Jesus.

May the desert experience that began last Wednesday be eternally profitable to us all.

SIXTH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME (February 11, 2018)

A curious thread runs through the readings today: community.

The first reading regards what is destructive of community: isolating someone. We heard the plight of lepers. Leprosy included many skin disorders in a more primitive medical era. Those called lepers were ostracized. In our day, Hansen’s disease is treated. But, many contemporary groups suffer the fate of ostracism: physical reasons like being HIV positive, obesity; racial reasons like being Hispanic or Black; political reasons, like being a member of the “other” party; theological reasons like being conservative or progressive; sexual reasons like a different orientation.

Too often we read of the violent reaction of an ostracized, lonely student. We have other lepers: the annoying person at work, the demanding in-law, and the difficult neighbor. A current term for shunning is “NIMBY,” not in my back yard.

The leper must have heard of Jesus’ healing. He, against the rules, approaches Jesus. Jesus, against the rules, reaches out and touches the leper. Healed. He may now rejoin the community with unimaginable joy.

In our Gospel, Jesus teaches that instead of ostracizing those different from us, we are to “do community” by being always inclusive, letting community happen.

Jesus exhibited his ever-present compassion. John Shea wrote so well: “When the consciousness of sameness and connection replaces the consciousness of separation, compassion arises. Compassion is a felt perception of sharing a common world that drives us toward action.” Jesus showed us that real cleanliness is a matter of the heart. Compassion engenders community. Community engenders compassion in wonderfully non-vicious cycle.

Less than two decades after this incident, Paul will write to the Galatians [4:27-29]: “All of you who have been baptized into Christ have clothed your-selves with him. There does not exist among you Jew or Greek, slave or freeman, male or female. All are one in Christ Jesus.” We are one community. In Christ no one is an outsider except the self-righteous who really believes others to be unworthy and therefore shuns them.

We see Jesus takes three steps in today’s Gospel. First, he feels compassion for the suffering and he sees the outreach of the leper. Second, he stretches out his hand and touches a man known to be “unclean”-- thereby making himself ritually “unclean.” Finally, he wills the healing to happen. He does something.

Jesus‘ three-step process teaches us to do as he did. We need to begin with compassion, daring to connect with people whose situation or condition turns us off or inclines us to avoid them. This calls us to deal with our own prejudice and insecurity. We may not want to “go there.” But, we need to go there. We have to be willing to touch lepers. We need to visit the sick, look the homeless person in the eye, and be faithful to members who reveal what we do not want to see. We need to develop respectful relationships - not stances with folks - regardless of what makes them “different.” We have to will to challenge any attitude, behavior, or structure that keeps people outside our circle. We have to will that no one be considered unclean or unworthy.

The Lord Jesus lavishes us with countless favors through the gift of his sacramental touch at the sign of peace and sharing Eucharist as we build community. May we realize that we have great value and dignity, so we can always reach out and show the same for others.

FIFTH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME (February 4, 2018)

February is a difficult month. We are between the festive seasons of Christmas and Easter. We walk on the frozen tundra in relative darkness, trying to avoid the flu and the “Febs” bundled in our warmest clothing. Today, the Church presents us with the Book of Job as a beacon of light that leads us toward the light in an atmosphere of gloom.

The book of job is part of “wisdom literature.” Job was the perfect man, honest and true, and he experienced unlimited prosperity. It is the story that the human author weaves about a fictional man from the Land of Uz who never existed, but will always enlighten us as a guide into the mystery of why the innocent suffer. It also teaches the place of possessions in our lives. The Book of Job raises our question: why does God allow the innocent to suffer? Rabbi Harold Kushner used Job’s plight for his classic book, When Bad Things Happen to Good People.

God leads job toward an attitude of humility. God does not have to justify to job or to us either his actions or his non-interventions in our lives. God is mystery; we cannot comprehend all the whys and wherefores of god. Job ceased questioning when he came face to face with god’s immensity and turned instead to simple faith and trust. Job finally said to God: “I am of little account; what can I answer you? I put my hand over my mouth.” Wisdom! God contents Job with his power and mystery.

Today we are blessed with more than Job’s story, more than what Rabbi Kushner can provide from his Jewish faith-insights in his attempt to answer the question. We Christians recognize Jesus as our Savior. Jesus does not give a final answer to Job’s questions, but does reveal deeper truth to us, and he corrects a faulty perception of gifts.

Jesus also broadens our understanding of suffering. Job’s conclusion, and the conclusion of many even today is that the world’s goods give indication of God’s favor; their absence, a sign of God’s disfavor. Jesus advances this understanding when he tells us that his father allows rain to fall on the good and the bad without discrimination. “Bad things” are not punishment for what we have done. Let us also remember that Jesus did not heal everyone who was sick or raise every dead person to life in his lifetime.

St. Francis de Sales sheds additional spiritual insight in asking, “What goods have we which we have not received; and if we have received, why should we take pride in it? [Intro. Iii, 5]

God will not answer all our requests as we might wish. There is some small consolation when we see Jesus’ undeserved suffering. Even after agonizing prayer to his father asking him to take the cup away, Jesus recognizes and accepts suffering, we hear him speak: “Let it be done to me according to your word.”

How can we expect that all our prayers will be answered as we wish? God’s plan is beyond us. Jesus tells us: “I will be with you all days . . .” He will remain with us in the midst of our trials and pain. He promises to send his Spirit, the Consoler. We can count on no more; we can count on no less.

Our anxious moments can be alleviated by a deeper awareness of God’s power, loving presence, and wisdom in our effort to humbly “Live Jesus.” Who of us has not gone through pain and in hindsight not seen personal growth? We are transformed into a more faith-filled, trusting and humble person in our relationship with our Father.

4th SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME (January 28, 2018)

Jesus was asked several times: “By whose authority do you say these things?” – or in today’s Gospel – “What is this? A new teaching with authority.”

The old, authoritative, teaching from scribal wisdom, was passed on from older scribes and founded on avoidance, no-no’s: people, like lepers and tax-collectors and sinners; things: like, like pork, unwashed whatevers – persons, places, and things to be avoided.

Our idea of authority is two-fold:

1. There is, first, authority from outside. Someone else confers this authority - like being appointed a cabinet member, a CEO, a bishop. It is usually accompanied by an oath of office.

2. There is also the authority that comes from inside, from within a person. It is the authority that comes from experience, education, it is being “an authority,” for example, on Benjamin Franklin, on diamonds, on astrophysics.

Actually, inner authority is the root of the word ”authority” itself. The “auth” in authority comes from two Greek words: autos and epha: “He himself says so.”

It is the ideal to have both kinds of authority. The authority, which Jesus emphasizes in today’s Gospel, is inner authority. Jesus possessed no conferred, Jewish, earthly, authority. It takes an act of faith to accept that his authority came from his father. Repeated incidents like this convinced many that that was true.

The scribes would quote famous rabbis when asked a question. Jesus did not; he spoke boldly for himself. He held people spellbound, hanging on his every word because he possessed a profound inner authority. Jesus held complete authority both the authority conferred by his father and a life of openness to learning truth. It freed him to challenge the status quo. It ultimately got him killed.

A lot of folks with external authority do not see the difference between external authority and internal authority, and, in their frustration at not being recognized as “the authority,” get aggressive, even violent. It happened to Jesus . . .

Outside of military service, external authority is never sufficient by itself. The scribes rested on the laurels of their external authority. They lost respect among those who listened to and compared the scribes’ and Jesus’ teaching.

This raises the question of church authority. We believe 100% of the important church teachings in the apostles’ and Nicene creeds concerning doctrine. Main line Protestants agree 100% with us.

What about the moral decisions about which the church invokes its authority over us? Does the church always speak god’s will? Historically, the answer is no. Slavery and usury are two easy examples.

Most times, directives make good sense. Sometimes, however, they do not. “Discernment” is the traditional word for learning God’s will for oneself. We are to listen carefully to church directives; that is the literal meaning of “obedience.” ob + audire means to “listen carefully.” When we do not agree, we pray for the Holy Spirit’s guidance, examine the issue, our motives and the circumstances of the situation, and prudently make our decision. A habitual, good relationship with God is necessary.

Jesus trusted his God-given, Spirit-inspired gifts and powers; we are called to do the same. Like JESUS, we need to have the courage of our convictions.

When we are reflectively in tune with God, we, like Jesus, will do courageous and marvelous deeds in breaking scribal, fearsome boundaries - with authority, as did Jesus.

3rd SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME (January 21, 2018)

I’ve never been to mainland Europe, but I have been told that some cathedrals from the 17th century have pulpits built in the shape of the mouth of a great fish. The preacher speaks to the people, standing as the prophet Jonah recently emerged from the mouth of the whale.

You remember the story; Jonah was sent to the east by God to Nineveh, the capital of Assyria -- modern day Iran. Assyria was the nation that earlier held the Jews in cruel captivity. Jonah, instead, headed west to the Mediterranean Sea and shipped out to go further west. Where, of course, he comes face-to-face with the whale.

This is a story loved by children, but it is primarily an adult story. Let us not get distracted by the story of how a man could be swallowed whole by a fish and live. This is not ichthyology, but theology. It is a comedic story more about what goes on inside a person than about what goes on inside a whale.

The Assyrians had done the Jews dirt; Jonah had been raised to hate the Assyrians. Jonah could not stand facing the truth that his own personal enemies were not God’s enemies.

God was threatening Jonah’s learned bigotry, threatening that puffed-up feeling of moral superiority. According to the scripture scholars, the Jonah story targets Jonah and fellow, narrow-minded Jews who were wrongly secure in being the “chosen people.“

There is good news: God brought about the single, most-sweeping renewal movement recorded in Scripture through the preaching of a man who was far from perfect. It proves again that God can write straight with crooked lines.

Who are our Ninevites? Terrorists, child-molesters, people of different national origin, different social standing, different racial background or sexual orientation? Could it be that God is sending us to bring his love to them?

In the beginning of Mark’ s Gospel, Jesus speaks to four Jewish fishermen. Each, like the Ninevites, responds promptly with his “yes” to Jesus. These, also, would stand out in sharp contrast to the many Jews who refused to accept Jesus.

So, the connecting link between the two readings is: God’s call & our response. The church, in placing these readings together, encourages a prompt, non-judgmental response, like the Ninevites and the four apostles.

How do we respond?

Perhaps we are like Jonah. Do we spend a good part of our life avoiding God by distracting ourselves with television or something else, so we don’t have to face our god?

Perhaps we are like the ancient Jews. We live out our personal exiles, bruised in heart with real or imagined hurts that we hold onto and stew over endlessly.

Perhaps we are like the apostles who quickly said “yes.” Peter and Andrew say “yes.” Jesus comes before business; James and john say “yes.” Jesus comes before family.

For both the apostles and for us, the journey may later get rough, and we need to remember that just as the apostles fell and got up, so must we. Our “yes” is not a once and for all decision. We, like them need to get up when we fall and begin again to live our ongoing “yes.”