Satan!

 

22^nd Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle A

Jeremiah 20:7-9

Romans 12:1-2

Matthew 16:21-27

 

Poor Peter.

At first glance, Jesus hits Peter really hard today. Satan? Really? Jesus had just finished giving Peter the keys to the kingdom of heaven, and now he’s likening him to the devil? But then, Jesus typically was a bit stern in correcting Peter.   

Peter didn’t say anything wrong. Of course he didn’t want the person he loved to suffer. He reacted exactly as anyone would at the time. Peter made the statement that “you are the Christ, the Son of the living God”, but Jesus never asked Peter what that meant to him. What did he expect him to say?

What were Peter’s expectations of the Christ? What did it mean that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God? Why was it necessary that he suffer and die? The disciples always had a hard time understanding and accepting that type of Messiah. That’s not who they were taught to expect. Everyone expected the Messiah to be more a military and political leader, a king that would restore Israel to glory. What was all this talk about suffering and dying?

Still, the Spirit led Peter to be the first to make the declaration, but he was only halfway there. I think we also are only part of the way there. We cannot fully understand this week’s gospel without first understanding last week’s, because it revolves around the same question, “Who do you say that I am?”

We all know the definitions, we just have a hard time figuring out what they mean, especially what they mean for us as children of God. I was at a gathering of parishioners last Sunday night, and the main topic of discussion was the gospel and especially Fr. Dass’ homily that day. Father had made a great connection between Jesus’ identity and our own, that we first have to know God before we can really know ourselves. Who you say God is is linked to whom you say you are.

But when we started talking about who we say Jesus is today, everyone went to the textbook definitions they’d been taught. The Messiah, the savior, the redeemer, the Son of God. Jesus’ titles. Sort of like Peter had done when asked the same question. Yet when asked to go deeper and define what those names and roles actually mean to them personally, few could articulate it. Who do You say that I am and what does that mean for You? Just as we usually tie our identities to what we do, it’s often easier to understand what Jesus does than to understand who He is.

Is Jesus an idea for you or is he a person? You can build on the foundation of an idea, but you cannot have a relationship with one. You cannot have a relationship with an identity, but with a person. You can only love a person. Jesus doesn’t see you as an idea, he sees and loves you as a person.

Have you always wondered why Jesus kept telling his disciples to not tell anyone that he was the Christ. Not only was their own image incomplete, until it was complete if they just declared Jesus to be the Messiah they would be misleading the people. They would be fueling their incorrect and incomplete expectations of who the Messiah would be. They would actually be encouraging the people to try to make Jesus King, the king of Israel, not the Kingdom of God. They were thinking as men think, not as God does, and that could lead to disaster.

Things haven’t changed much. We also have certain expectations of the messiah. The messiah we seek today doesn’t ask much of us, does he, because we really don’t want that kind of messiah. Today, it seems that the messiah we seek is someone who will be there when we need him but doesn’t challenge us very much. We are taught from an early age that Jesus loves us, but we rarely consider what kind of love that is. We pray to him for the things we need when we need them, but the rest of the time he’s just a picture on the wall or a piece of jewelry around our necks. We enjoy hearing stories about how much God loves us no matter what we do. We like to hear stories of Jesus’ miracles and compassion. It really doesn’t matter if we sin, because we’re forgiven.

We like these stories because we’ve reduced the Messiah down to a warm fuzzy friend who’s non-threatening. We fit Jesus into our individualistic lives. It’s all about me, so I like the messiah who’s all about me, but don’t ask me to truly follow him. Jesus wants me to take up my cross daily, but don’t ask me to actually change my life. Don’t challenge me to turn from my sinfulness. Gimme but don’t ask me to give.

Does Jesus meet your expectations? Do you see him as a gentle, soft, cuddly person who just wants everyone to love everyone, or do you see him as a stern savior, stern as death, who actually has set up standards for us to live by and that we will be judged by?

As Fr. Dass said last week, our understanding of ourselves starts first with our understanding of who God is, who the Son of God is. Our image of ourselves comes from our image of God. Are we created in God’s image or do we mold him into our images?

Who do you say you are? Do you see yourself as God sees you? Do you love yourself as God loves you?

What does it mean to you to be a disciple? Do you understand that while his yoke is easy and his burden light, we are still called to take up our cross each and every day and follow him on our road to our own calvary?

We all have our Peter moment. Jesus asks us all the same question.We will have our aha moment when we make our own statement of faith in who we say Jesus is, then like Peter we will spend the rest of our lives developing that, trying to understand what that faith really means.

St. Paul says that now I see indistinctly, as in a mirror. Then I will truly know as I am truly known.

We do tend to see Jesus as if we are looking in a mirror. We see him as an image, how we want to see him. Only when we see him face to face will we be able to see him as he truly is and see ourselves in him.

 

 

Wisdom

 

17^th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle A

1 Kgs 3:5, 7-12

Rm 8: 28-30

Mt 13:44-52

 

Wisdom

 

I was in a conversation with someone last week, I can’t remember who it was or what exactly we were talking about, but she said that I was wise. I was taken aback a bit, because wisdom is not a virtue I usually think about or even think I have. Wiseguy maybe, but I’m not how I would imagine a wise man to be. I have the image of the guru sitting on top of the hill dispensing pearls of wisdom. Someone who is gentle and compassionate, who seems to always say the right things, profound things. Someone who people go to for advice. That’s not how I see myself. I feel that more often than not I play the fool. Maybe it’s my age or my position or ministry that give people that impression. Maybe it’s the white hair.

 

We seem to equate wisdom with age. I joke that wisdom is knowing the right way to act or the right thing to do, and the way to gain wisdom is to choose the wrong way and do the wrong thing. Wisdom comes from learning from your mistakes. I’m sure that is a large part of it, if we truly learn from our mistakes and work to avoid making the same mistakes again. That’s the hard part.

 

But now I see that wisdom is an example of God’s grace working in our lives. It is an attribute of God himself. It doesn’t necessarily come with age. There are lots of foolish old people. And how many times have we taken advice from someone we trust and have found it wanting? Solomon was young, he hadn’t made a lot of mistakes to learn from yet. Interestingly, when he got older, he made a lot of mistakes, and he actually lost his wisdom. But he asked for the gift, and God gave it to him. And as usual, God went overboard with the gift. When we act humbly God blesses us more abundantly.

 

Wisdom can come from many places. As a gift from God, through our own experiences, from study, and from observing and learning from others’ experiences. You can work at being wise, and like faith, wisdom is a gift that can increase and like grace, it builds upon itself, so that we can become wiser and wiser if we choose. Or not. Just because we know how we should act and think doesn’t mean that we always choose to do so. What’s that saying that common wisdom is not necessarily common sense, and common sense is not necessarily common practice?

 

Maybe part of being wise is realizing your limitations. Wisdom begins with self-awareness. Wise people say and do things that make us stop and think. They give us those aha moments of self-awareness and self-reflection. And those moments should lead to a change of heart and commitment to action. True wisdom is not kept to ourselves, it only works if it’s given away, both by what we say and how we live our lives. Mostly it shows itself in the way we treat other people. And doesn’t that make sense, because it’s the same with love, and if God is love then God’s wisdom would be a sign and effect of love.

 

If God is wisdom, then the best way to develop wisdom in us is to image God, to be holy. And the best way to do that is to learn from Him through His revelation to us. We are so fortunate that we have such a long and rich deposit of faith in the Catholic Church to draw from. Not just sacred scripture but the teaching tradition of the Church. Jesus ends his parables today by saying that every scribe who has been instructed in the Kingdom of Heaven is like the head of the household who brings from his storeroom both the new and the old.

 

Ours is a living God and ours is a living Church. There is such an unfathomable storehouse of wisdom that has been handed on to us, beginning with the apostles and built on by so many amazingly wise, capable, thoughtful and holy teachers. I think that the strongest evidence of the Holy Spirit alive and working in the Church is that there has never been deviation in the core traditions of the Church. All church teachings that are true all build on what has gone before.

 

However, we truly bring from that storeroom both the new and the old. The old are those immutable truths in sacred tradition. Those are the “big T” traditions, the ones that we must believe and adhere to if we are to be faithful Christians. We continue to declare those core traditions whenever we recite the creed. Things like Jesus is the Son of God and rose from the dead. That sort of stuff. The new are the ways we hand down and live those truths throughout the ages. Those are the “small T” traditions. That kind of tradition is simply how we adapt the big T traditions to the contemporary world. For example, celebrating the Mass in a particular language.

 

Both the old and the new are good and necessary. There should be no living in the past or discarding it for something completely different. For the Church it’s never either/or, it’s both. It’s not the past was better than today, nor vice versa.

 

It’s like with the study of history. If you don’t understand what happened in the past you will misunderstand what is happening today. Nothing happens suddenly in a vacuum. Current events are always influenced by past events and beliefs. And it is a great mistake to judge past actions by today’s standards. You need to understand so much about each era’s thoughts, culture, and influences in order to weigh the pros and cons of each. St. Paul tells us to question everything through the eyes of faith, weigh what is right from wrong and discard what is wrong. Isn’t that wisdom?

 

And one of the greatest dangers is to let a misunderstanding of sacred tradition cause divisions in the Church. The Church has the authority and responsibility to organize itself and the sacraments. That is a “big T” tradition. Personal interpretation of Church teachings and practices to the point of declaring that this practice or that council is true and this or that one isn’t is to put yourself outside the Church, especially if you condemn those who don’t think as you do.

 

As I grow older, I feel myself softening. When I was young things were more black and white, and I was more of an absolutist and a legalist, which led to being judgmental. Everything had to be done a certain way, typically my way. I tend to let things go more now, probably because I can more easily determine what is important and what isn’t. The parables today tell us that the ultimate wisdom is desiring the Kingdom of Heaven. As there are more years behind me than before, my desire for heaven has increased. If part of wisdom is knowing one’s limitations, the awareness of our mortality focuses us on our greatest limitation here on earth. That understanding should cause us to show more grace to one another, to cut each other some slack, be less judgmental. To realize that everyone has some wisdom to offer me. That I need to be more flexible. I know I’ve been trying.

 

“In essentials, unity; in doubtful matters, liberty; in all things, charity.” This is so important, especially the charity part. True wisdom is always loving and welcoming. It is gentle and kind. It understands that while there are some immutable truths that are black and white, people are always gray. True wisdom is always exhibited as mercy. Yes, we are called to instruct and admonish each other, but always out of concern for the soul of the other. The flipside is that we are also called to be instructed and admonished ourselves. We don’t know what we don’t know.

 

Wisdom is not a concept. It is not an idea. It is not a value. It is a person. True wisdom is entering into relationship with God. Not just the idea of God but God himself and his Son, Jesus Christ, in unity with the Holy Spirit. Wisdom is recognizing what is ultimately valuable in this life, and then doing everything in our power to obtain it, even if it takes letting go of everything else we value.

 

Is that relationship that valuable to you?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I Am Third

 

13th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle A

2 Kings 4:8-11, 14-16a

Romans 6:3-4, 8-11

Matthew 10:37-42

 

Whenever I hear a Gospel like today's, I find myself thinking, Being a Christian is really hard.

 

I mean, listen to what Jesus says. "Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me." In St. Luke's Gospel He goes even further: "If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother...he cannot be my disciple."

 

Those are hard words. It's tempting to say, "Well...He didn't really mean that. He's just exaggerating." But I don't think we should dismiss them that quickly. Jesus is trying to wake us up. What He's really doing is restating the First and Greatest Commandment: Love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your mind, and all your strength. And don't miss what that means. Jesus is claiming the place that belongs to God alone. He's saying, "Love Me the way you love God."

 

Because He is God.

 

Now here's where I struggle. How do I square those words with another thing Jesus says: "My yoke is easy, and my burden is light"? Because, honestly, giving Christ first place over everything else doesn't sound easy.

 

Unless...Unless that's actually what sets us free.

 

Think about the way Jesus lived. He had no permanent home. He owned almost nothing. He depended on others for His daily needs. It wasn't because possessions are bad. It was because nothing possessed Him. He was completely free. Free to love His Father with His whole heart. Free to love every person He met without selfishness. Free to pour Himself out completely.

 

That's how we were created to live.

 

God gave us this world as a gift—not something to worship, but something to use well. We were meant to master the things of this world, not be mastered by them. And if we're honest...we know how easily that gets turned upside down.

 

Our work can master us. Money can master us. Comfort can master us. Our reputation can master us. Even the people we love most can become disordered loves if they begin to occupy the place that belongs to God alone.

 

That's what Jesus is getting at. He's not asking us to love our families less. He's asking us to love God first. Because when God is first, everything else finally falls into its proper place.

 

Then Jesus says something else that sounds just as difficult: "Take up your cross."

Sometimes we think that simply means putting up with suffering. I think it's deeper than that. The cross is the daily surrender of anything that competes with God for my heart. Every act of forgiveness. Every sacrifice made out of love. Every temptation resisted. Every attachment surrendered. All of it becomes a participation in Christ's own saving work.

 

That's exactly what St. Paul is talking about today. He says we were baptized into Christ's death. Think about that. We aren't spectators watching Jesus save the world. He actually draws us into His saving work. Just as God lets us share in His work of creation, He invites us to share in His work of redemption.

 

That's an incredible privilege. Maybe that's why it's actually easier to love our neighbor than it is to love God. Even people who don't know God can be generous. They can be compassionate. They can sacrifice for someone they love. But making God the center of everything? Making Him the standard by which I measure every decision? Letting Him have first claim on my heart? That's different.

 

That's discipleship.

 

So maybe that's the question Jesus is asking every one of us today. What owns my heart? Because make no mistake...Something does. Whatever sits on the throne of my heart will shape every decision I make, every relationship I have, and ultimately the person I become.

 

Jesus isn't trying to take anything away from us. He's trying to set us free. Free to love our spouse better. Free to love our children better. Free to enjoy His gifts without becoming enslaved by them. Free to carry our cross without fear. Free to become the men and women we were created to be.

 

Because here's the truth. Every one of us is going to give our life to something.

Every one of us. The only question is whether we'll give it to something that cannot last...or to the One who conquered death. That's why Jesus asks for everything.

 

Not because He wants to take everything from us. Because He wants to give us everything.