Sneaky Thief

1^st Sunday of Advent

Cycle A

Happy New Year!

Here we are again at the beginning of a new liturgical year, and, as always, it lands smack dab in the middle of the early Christmas rush. We’ve all been putting our gift lists together and decorating our homes and writing Christmas cards, and some of us actually woke up at ungodly hours to be the first to take advantage of the after Thanksgiving sales. We’re all getting into the Christmas spirit, we come here to the church decorated so beautifully for the season of advent, and the first thing we hear about in the readings is…the end of the world.

What a bummer! What is the Church trying to do, ruin it all for us? We’re preparing for the coming of Christ at Christmas, full of joy to the world and all that. Shouldn’t we be hearing about angels and mangers and wise men?

For the church, preparing for the coming of Christ at Christmas is exactly that. The true meaning of Christmas is not getting the “Christmas Spirit” by remembering something that happened long ago in Bethlehem. The true meaning of Christmas is the promise Jesus left us. The promise that he would not leave us alone, that he would come again in glory. That’s Joy to the World.

Early Christians didn’t celebrate Jesus’ birth. To them, the defining events of Jesus’ life were his death and resurrection. Only two of the gospels have any mention of Jesus’ birth, but they all have detailed accounts of his passion, death and resurrection. They took Jesus’ words to heart that some of them would not taste death before all these things came to pass. They thought Christ’s coming again was imminent. That’s where the glory was, not in a dirty manger surrounded by animals and shepherds. That’s where the promise was. In the coming.

The church teaches that there are three comings of Christ. The first is the actual incarnation in the person of Jesus of Nazareth 2000 years ago. The second is the final judgment, when Christ will come in all his glory to judge the living and the dead. The third is… today. That’s the coming that most affects us. We weren’t there 2000 years ago to witness the first coming, and we have no idea when he will come again in glory, nor can we control it. The only thing we can control is our acceptance of Jesus’ coming into our lives today.

If we take care of Christ’s third coming, the second coming will take care of itself. It is through the third coming that we are prepared for the second.

One will be taken; the other will be left behind. How many times have we and a friend been at an event, or heard a homily or listened to a talk, or read a book or an article, and one of us gets it and the other one doesn’t? Many times our understanding of these things is due to our openness to their message, or our level of commitment to it, or our level of knowledge about the subject. It’s the same with Jesus’ message. We are all here this morning celebrating together, hearing the same scriptures and saying the same prayers. Who will be taken and who will be left behind? Which of us will acknowledge Jesus’ coming into our lives this day and which of us won’t? And which of us will use that knowledge to change our lives in preparation?

Lew Wallace was one of the most accomplished men of the 19^th century. A general in the civil war on the union side, highly decorated, one of the judges in the conspiracy trial of the Lincoln assassins, the governor of the New Mexico territory and the ambassador to Turkey. He was also, like many people, completely indifferent to religion. One day in 1876, on a train to Indianapolis, he struck up a conversation with Colonel Robert G. Ingersoll, the most accomplished and vocal atheist of his day. For two hours, Colonel Ingersoll regaled Wallace on the absolute certainty that there was no God, no heaven nor hell, and that all who thought there was were fools. He was very effective.

As Wallace puts it, “I sat spellbound, listening to a medley of argument, eloquence, wit, satire, audacity, irreverence, poetry, brilliant antithesis, and pungent excoriation of believers in God, Christ, and heaven, the like of which I had never heard. He surpassed himself, and that is saying a great deal.”

To a man completely indifferent to religion, such a strong argument could have convinced him that what Ingersoll was saying was indeed true. Wallace could have accepted the argument and gone on with his life as before, because it required nothing of him. Instead, Ingersoll put in Wallace’s heart a burning desire to learn more about his religion, to study what it really meant and to put down his findings in writing. Seven years later, he came out with what became the bestselling novel of the 19^th century, a book that has never gone out of print, was made into a play that ran on Broadway for 25 years, and that was made into three major motion pictures. As Wallace puts it, “I did as resolved, with results – first, the book, Ben Hur, and second, a conviction amounting to absolute belief in God and the divinity of Christ.”

Two men having a conversation. Jesus came into both their lives that day.

One was taken, the other left behind. Unexpectedly, on a train.

The Son of Man will come when you least expect him. When you don’t think he’ll show up. When you don’t want him to show up. When you think everything’s hunky dory and you don’t need him. When you don’t have time for him in your busy lives. He has a habit of just showing up, uninvited, at the weirdest times.

Many of us are like the master of the house in today’s gospel. If we knew when the thief would come we would not let him break into our house. Unfortunately, for many of us the thief is Jesus, and if we knew when he was going to enter the houses of our hearts we’d bar the door and refuse him entry. We know that if we allow him in we’ll be asked to change our lives, and we like things just the way they are. We like our orgies and promiscuity, our drunkenness and lust, our rivalries and jealousies. We like our swords just the way they are, thank you. God can keep his plowshares. That’s just a pipe dream anyway.

Ah, but thieves are wily, aren’t they? No matter how well you prepare, they seem to find a way in. You really can’t prevent it. In the opening prayer this morning we heard Father pray that we “run forth to meet Christ.” Jesus came to earth once. That’s a historical fact. He will come again whether you like it or not. That’s his promise. How you meet him is up to you. 

Happy Eucharist!

Sir 50:22-24

1 Cor 1:3-9

Lk 17:11-19

Happy Eucharist!

Why not “Happy Thanksgiving”? But that’s exactly what I just said, because the word Eucharist literally means “thanksgiving”. Did you know that? Wouldn’t it be great if every time we entered the church to celebrate the Mass we greeted each other by saying “Happy Thanksgiving”! Because that is what it is. The Mass is our greatest prayer of thanksgiving.

When Jesus offered himself up on the cross he did so in thanksgiving. The Last Supper was a memorial meal of thanksgiving. The Jews celebrate the Passover supper in thanksgiving for all that God has done for them throughout the centuries, especially when he rescued them from slavery in Egypt. Jesus was giving thanks to his Father for giving him his disciples and for giving him the opportunity to come down to earth to draw all people to him, and yes, even for the opportunity to die for us.

The Mass should be a happy event. It is a feast, just as much as our dinner later today will be a feast. Have you ever thought about the structure of the Mass? It’s the same as the banquet you are preparing today.

We prepare for this Mass long before we celebrate it, just as you have been getting ready for your dinner today for a long time. We greet each other at the door. We catch up on the latest goings on with each other. We enter the dining room and gather together around the table. We prepare ourselves spiritually by saying we’re sorry for anything we may have done to break our communion with each other since the last time we met, just like we apologize to Great Uncle Lou for getting in that fight over politics last Thanksgiving. We sit and hear stories about our family’s past and remember all who have gone before us in faith. Then we offer up prayers for our needs and the needs of others.

We get ready for the meal by bringing our gifts to the altar, because we’d never dream of going to someone’s house for dinner empty handed. We say grace, our prayers of thanksgiving over the gifts we have brought to the table. Those gifts are from God and from us. We don’t bring grapes and wheat, we bring bread and wine, having taken what God has given us and transformed it into something else.

We hear the most beautiful prayer of the Mass, the Eucharistic Prayer, the Thanksgiving Prayer, when God takes our transformed gifts and transforms them even more into his very self. Jesus has physically joined us at table. And those transformed gifts in turn transform us. We offer one final prayer of awe at the gift God has given us. “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.” No, we can never make ourselves worthy, but God wants us to be worthy to be with him forever.

Then we eat and drink. We acknowledge the gift by receiving the Body and Blood of Christ in communion with one another. We receive, we do not take. And we become the Body of Christ as we receive the Body of Christ.

Then we sit back for a bit and take it all in. We’re stuffed and couldn’t eat another bite. We clear the table and do the dishes. We announce when the next get together will be, and we say one final prayer and receive a blessing before we go out into the world once again, where we live the fruits of our thanksgiving.

We set aside a special day once a year to give thanks as a nation for all the blessings we have been given. We give thanks for the gift, but what about the giver? Who are we giving thanks to? If you look at all the decorations and all the advertising, you’d think we are giving thanks to the turkey, or the pilgrims, or something. You never see decorations giving thanks to God, do you. You rarely see or hear mention of God in any of the big celebrations being held across the country. There was no big Jesus balloon in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade this morning. Thanksgiving has become a completely secular holiday, all about food and football. It really should be called “Black Friday Eve” because that’s what all the focus seems to be on.

It wasn’t intended to be that way, and it isn’t that way for us. We don’t just remember our blessings, we remember the one who blesses us. When Abraham Lincoln issued his Thanksgiving Day Proclamation in 1863 he did it to recognize and celebrate all the wonderful things God had given to our country, even in the midst of the most terrible trial we have ever been put through. And he wanted to thank God for all that. That wonderful proclamation was actually a prayer.

“No human counsel hath devised nor hath any mortal hand worked out these great things. They are the gracious gifts of the Most High God, who, while dealing with us in anger for our sins, hath nevertheless remembered mercy. It has seemed to me fit and proper that they should be solemnly, reverently and gratefully acknowledged as with one heart and one voice by the whole American People. I do therefore invite my fellow citizens in every part of the United States, and also those who are at sea and those who are sojourning in foreign lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next, as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens. And I recommend to them that while offering up the ascriptions justly due to Him for such singular deliverances and blessings, they do also, with humble penitence for our national perverseness and disobedience, commend to His tender care all those who have become widows, orphans, mourners or sufferers in the lamentable civil strife in which we are unavoidably engaged, and fervently implore the interposition of the Almighty Hand to heal the wounds of the nation and to restore it as soon as may be consistent with the Divine purposes to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquility and Union.”

The way we give our greatest thanks to God is through the Eucharist, so it is entirely fitting that we gather here this morning to link the two celebrations together. What better way to show our national thanksgiving than through our greatest prayer of thanksgiving! So, Happy Eucharist! We are a Eucharistic people, and every day for us is Thanksgiving Day!

Jesus, Remember Me

Feast of Christ the King

Cycle C

How do you want to be remembered?

Many people worry about how they will be remembered. It’s a big deal to them. They pay millions of dollars to have their names inscribed on buildings, they set up foundations with their names attached so that the world will remember them as good benefactors, long after they’ve gone. They erect impressive tombstones that will last for centuries, their names carved deep into the granite. Is that how you want to be remembered?

Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.

We don’t want to be left behind. There’s a series of wildly popular books out, the “Left Behind” series, that deals with what may happen during the last days, when the world will be in turmoil before the second coming of the Lord. They have sold millions of copies in dozens of languages. Why are people so enthralled about what will happen during the last days? Why are we so worried about being left behind?

On this last Sunday of the liturgical year, we look forward to the coming of the kingdom. We utter our own hopes for life with Jesus, just like the good thief did on his cross.

But who remembered Jesus on that Good Friday?

Jesus was totally abandoned on the cross. The only person who believed in him was a murderer, a criminal who wasn’t even one of his followers. How did Jesus feel when someone, anyone, finally expressed some belief in him during those horrible last moments? It must have been almost as painful for Jesus to see his friends run away as it was to undergo such horrific torture. The people he had come to save had rejected him. His own best friends had abandoned him. Was his mission a failure? Was there any hope at all that the world could be saved?

Yet, a common criminal showed faith in Jesus. “Any chance you could put in a good word for me? Just in case?” Jesus’ own closest friends, James and John, had asked that they be placed one on his right hand and one on his left, in the kingdom. He didn’t give it to them. However, this loser has the audacity to ask for the same thing, and Jesus gives it to him. For whatever reason, whether he truly believed that Jesus was who he said he was or if he was just covering his bases, the good thief’s request gave Jesus the hope he needed.

“You will be with me in paradise. Yes, there is a paradise and we will soon be in it. There is hope, for both of us.” We end this year with a message of hope. Just as Jesus was given hope on the cross, we are given hope because of that cross.

Jesus saw that hope in the plea of someone who needed him, someone who was completely hopeless himself.  The good thief’s request got Jesus’ mind off his own sufferings. He could perform one last miracle. He could show mercy to someone who didn’t deserve it. He could offer salvation to one of the very people he had come to save. The thief got it. He got the message. Jesus’ mission on earth had not been a failure. And if someone who had not been one of his followers got it, there must be lots of other folks who got it, too. There really is a kingdom.

Jesus, remember me, when you come into your kingdom.

This is the Feast of Christ the King. Yet, what a strange king we have. Kings have thrones. Jesus had a cross. Kings have crowns of gold. Jesus had a crown of thorns. Kings have a court of attendants to wait upon them. Jesus’ friends all ran away. Kings have rings of gold on their fingers. Jesus had nails driven into his hands. Kings receive accolades. Jesus was mocked by everyone, even by the guy hanging next to him.

We don’t do kings well in America. In fact, we fought a long war of independence to get rid of the yoke of kings. We chafe against anyone and anything that curtails our freedoms. But how do we see freedom? Is it just being able to do what we want without interference? That’s not freedom, that’s license.

Jesus is a different kind of king. He doesn’t take away our freedom, he gives it back to us. By humbling himself on that cross, Jesus showed us what real freedom is. Freedom in the kingdom of God is freedom from sin, freedom from the shackles of our own selfish humanity, freedom from death.

People in Jesus’ day understood what it meant to have a king. Everything they owned could be forfeit at his command. Their very lives were in his hands. At his whim they could be put to death. Signs of the emperor’s influence were everywhere, from the heavy taxes he levied against them to his ever-present legions of troops. To them, the emperor was the center of their lives, whether they liked it or not.

Who are our kings today? Around what does your life revolve?

Do we embrace the cross or just work ever harder for the comforts of this life? Do we resent our sufferings or enter into them, joining them with those of Jesus, to give them meaning? Many enter this season of Advent with feelings of hope and joy. But many others approach it with dread. For some it is a time of great loneliness. Perhaps they lost a spouse, or parent, or close friend this year and this will be the first Christmas without them. Maybe they’re out of work and fear they won’t be able to provide their family with even the basics of a Christmas celebration. Maybe they are very ill and realize this will probably be their last Christmas. They long for a sense of hope.

Jesus, remember me, when you come into your kingdom.

Jesus understands these feelings. He understands loneliness, fear, and death. He experienced them. He conquered them. The message of today’s gospel is that no matter how hopeless things seem, we will not be forgotten. How could Jesus forget us? The same good shepherd who would leave the 99 sheep to find the lost one would never forget us. The same Lord who showed mercy to the good thief on his cross will show mercy to us as well.

We won’t be left behind.

YOLO

33^rd Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle C

What a strange thing to say.

Imagine if you and some friends were visiting St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome or even the Cathedral of the Madeline here in Salt Lake and you were oohing and ahhing about the beautiful architecture and artwork and someone in the group said, “You know, all of this is going to be destroyed soon. You’d probably think, “What a downer! Who asked for your opinion?” Awkward.

But Jesus’ disciples didn’t have that reaction. They didn’t say to Jesus, “What do you mean, it will all be destroyed?” They asked him when it would happen. Not if but when. It’s almost as if they were expecting it to happen, and Jesus just confirmed that expectation.

That’s because they were.

The Jews of Jesus’ time were apocalyptic, eschatological. They were looking for the Messiah, and they believed that he would bring about the end days. This belief was in the writings of the prophets, and during the last few centuries it had risen to fever pitch. They saw the end and the coming of the Messiah as relief from their own suffering. They weren’t afraid of the end; they saw it as a good thing. And so, if they believed that Jesus was the Messiah, it was natural that he would say such a thing and natural that they would respond as they did.

What they didn’t expect was that Jesus’ answer included not glory but even more suffering and persecution. They thought the end was going to be the glorious restoration of Israel to its rightful place atop the nations. They did not expect destruction. They thought the Messiah would destroy the Romans. They didn’t dream that the Messiah himself would have to suffer under their hands. They never dreamed that their beloved temple and city would be crushed into the dust by them.

And yet that is what they got. The temple was destroyed by the Romans in 70 AD. Not one stone was left atop the other. And in 135AD Jerusalem and the entire nation was wiped out by the Romans during the rebellion of Bar Kokhba. The Jewish people would be dispersed throughout the world, to suffer even more persecution and suffering, for the next 2000 years.

Jesus was talking about something that would happen within one generation of his death and resurrection, yet his prophesy has rung true throughout all generations. There have always been wars and the threat of war, famine and natural disasters, and the end has not yet come. And so, I think we get complacent about the end and get lulled into a false sense of security.

The difference between us and the Jews of Jesus’ time is that we would be surprised by his statement. Maybe even embarrassed and offended that he brought it up. We’d not only be surprised by his description of the end times, we’d be incredulous that there even would be an end. For us, the end of the world is something out of a Hollywood movie. Sometimes it’s an alien invasion that does us in, other times it’s a huge asteroid or some other environmental disaster. 

This year it seems to be zombies.

Most of us are not looking towards the end times. We rarely even think about it. We live for the moment. Heck, less than 30% of us are even planning for our own retirement, let alone the end of the world. We don’t look towards our own ends, our own deaths, so why should we think about the end of the world? We are indestructible and can overcome anything.

Throughout the centuries, the end times have been depicted in art and popular culture as the violent destruction of the world, but where does Jesus say that? Jesus said that in the end all things would be made new. He never said the world would be destroyed, just transformed. How do we know what form the end will take? How can we know the time? We can’t and we shouldn’t. Like the Jews of the first century, we should not see the end of the world as a frightful thing, but the time of our redemption.

The Jews looked forward to the restoration of Israel. We look forward to the restoration of all creation. Judgment for us is not punishment. Judgment for us is justice. When the Son of Man comes in his glory we will share in that glory. Isn’t that what we are always hoping for?

And when we see the suffering and persecution of the followers of Christ, we should not be afraid, even if it happens to us. Jesus’ message to the disciples today is be not afraid. Don’t worry about these things happening, they are inevitable. The nature of being a Christian is to be misunderstood and even attacked. But we are not to fret about what we are to do or what we are to say. The Spirit will guide us in what to say and what to do.

St. Padre Pio is famous for saying, “Pray, Hope and Don’t Worry”. What a wonderful mantra. I have a printout of it hanging on the wall of my prayer room. I wish I could live by it. It is so easy to worry about all the bad things that might happen to us, even though 90% of what we worry about never happens and we can’t do anything to change the other 10%.

It’s funny. We don’t look towards the future yet that’s all we worry about. We live our lives for the moment yet worry about the unknown. Isn’t that a new mantra for today’s youth, YOLO, “You Only Live Once”?  The kids are right; we do need to live like there’s no tomorrow, not because we want to cram as much pleasure into our lives as possible with no consequences, but because there will be consequences. When the end happens it happens. Nothing we can do can change it. We need to live in the moment yet be prepared in our hearts and souls.

Just because we are not to worry doesn’t mean we aren’t to reflect on our lives and our actions from time to time and make corrections. I’m not saying don’t worry because you’re ok no matter what you do. I’m saying that we are all struggling to live our lives as true disciples and we shouldn’t worry about bad things happening to us. We understand that all our actions have consequences, both good and bad, but that should not cause us to fear and worry about it.

We will be hearing similar readings at Mass the next few weeks as we prepare to celebrate the coming of the Lord at Christmas. The church gives us these readings not to scare us into submission but to give us the opportunity to ponder the true meaning of our lives and God’s loving gift of redemption. We do this as we enter into the cold days and long nights of winter because we know that in a little while it will be spring.

You see, we are also apocalyptic people. We too are looking towards the end of time. We say it at every Mass: We look forward with joyful hope to the coming of our Savior, Jesus Christ.

Feelin' Small

31^st Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle C

Last week we heard the story of the prayer of the Pharisee versus the prayer of the tax collector. Today we meet the tax collector.

Luke says that Zacchaeus was short of stature, and that he ran ahead to climb a sycamore tree in order to get a good look at Jesus. Zacchaeus was not a man concerned with appearances. A grown man in Jesus’ time did not climb trees. It would not be dignified. But then, Zacchaeus was not overly concerned with what other people thought, was he? He was the chief tax collector for Jericho, and he had gotten rich mainly by charging exorbitant fees on top of the taxes he collected from his neighbors for the hated Roman Empire. He had chosen wealth over prestige and honor long ago.

Why did Zacchaeus need to climb that tree? It wasn’t because he was short. If he were a man of influence and respect, the people would have let him move up to the front of the crowd so he could not only see Jesus but meet him. But no, his countrymen despised him and crowded him out. He was forced into that tree. He was forced into the humiliating position of having to climb a tree in order to see. Zacchaeus was probably used to being humiliated. He knew what his neighbors thought of him, and even his great wealth could not insulate him from their insults.

Have you ever been really embarrassed by something you did? Were you ever picked on as a kid? How did you feel? Did you want to curl up in a ball and disappear? Did you want to become small and invisible? I think Zacchaeus is a metaphor for what our sins do to us, how they make us feel. When we do something that we know is wrong, we feel small. We want to hide ourselves and our sins from view. We don’t feel very good about ourselves. When we are proud we stand up tall. When we are embarrassed we hunch over and make ourselves small. A good man is a pillar of the community. We say a man without honor is a small man. That was Zacchaeus.

But Jesus found him. Jesus was actually looking for him. He didn’t say, “Zacchaeus, can I come over to your house?” He said, Zacchaeus, come down quickly, for today I must stay at your house." He didn’t ask permission, he told him that he was compelled to stay with him that day. Do any of you remember Father Reyes Rodriguez? He was serving here at St. Mary’s and St. Lawrence for awhile several years ago. Once, on Super Bowl Sunday, just before the game was to start, the doorbell rang and it was Fr. Reyes standing on my porch unannounced. He said, “Hello, Zacchaeus, I must come and watch the Super Bowl at your house today.” Then he proceeded to plop himself down on the couch, kicked off his shoes, and put his feet up on the coffee table to watch the game. I was so surprised all I could do was grab him a beer.

Something happened to Zacchaeus that day, something that changed his life forever. We have no record of what Jesus said to him or what he did, but we know the effects. Jesus gave Zacchaeus a way out of his sinfulness. He offered him redemption. Zacchaeus felt small because his neighbors shunned him. Jesus gave him prestige when he chose to stay with him out of all the people in Jericho. He gave him honor and value when he told the good Jews, “This man too is one of you. He is also a son of Abraham. You may not like him or approve of how he lives his life, but he has value. He has so much value that I want to dwell with him.”

Zacchaeus was hunkered down and Jesus lifted him up. Zacchaeus responded to Jesus’ offer of redemption. And it brought salvation to his house. How many times do we feel unworthy of love? How many times do we make poor choices in our lives and think ourselves worthless failures? How many times do people humiliate us because of it? How many times do we feel small?

Zacchaeus had the advantage of having Jesus himself to lift him up, but all we have is each other. We may intellectually know that God loves us no matter what. We may tell ourselves that at least God will never reject us. We can hear the words from Wisdom today, “For you love all things that are and loathe nothing that you have made; for what you hated, you would not have fashioned,” and that’s all very good, but do they ever really change things in our lives? Do they stop the bullying? We can hear these words of comfort yet still live in fear of humiliation from our neighbors who don’t approve of our lifestyles. Bumper stickers that proclaim, “Jesus Loves You”, are all well and good, but unless someone actually lives that love for us in the real world they are just words.

We know that Jesus loves us, but we want the love of other people, too, don’t we? Jesus went straight to the sinner because he was compelled to. Do we do the same? Jesus knew that Zacchaeus felt small because of his sins and was hiding in a tree on the outskirts of town, hoping to see him. Jesus knew that his lifestyle was sinful, but he went to him anyway. Remember that the next time you judge someone because you think they are living a sinful life. Remember that the next time you see a gay couple walking down the street holding hands, or a couple who is cohabitating or divorced and remarried outside the Church. Remember that the next time your teenage daughter comes home late with her deadbeat boyfriend and you know what they’ve been doing. Remember that when you make them feel small with a snide comment or a disapproving glance just to make yourself feel superior. We say we hate the sin but love the sinner, but do we?

“This man too is a son of Abraham.”

All Zacchaeus wanted was a chance to repent. All he wanted was someone to accept him and give him a way out. He repented far too quickly for it to have been a spur of the moment decision for him. He knew he was doing wrong. He had been thinking about this for a long time; he just needed a plan and a push. He needed someone to give him the invitation with no judgments attached. He needed to feel he had value as a human being, just because he was created by a loving God. Jesus gave that to him. Do you think the people in our lives are any different? Are we ourselves really any different from Zacchaeus?

In a short while Jesus would be walking down another road, surrounded by people who were mocking and hitting and humiliating him. You could say he also climbed a tree, but not because he wanted to see, but in order to be seen by all.