Thursday, December 24, 2015

I've Been Waiting for You


Christmas Eve Mass During the Night

My father was a holy man. When I was young, my dad became a charismatic Catholic, which meant he went to prayer meetings and Masses where they spoke in tongues, spoke prophesy, and were baptized in the Spirit. He was always saying “Praise the Lord” loudly and in public. I’m ashamed to say that I was often embarrassed by his public displays of religiosity.

Dad started a Charismatic prayer group at our parish. At first there were several enthusiastic participants. They met every Monday night at the church to sing, pray, and hold the needy and the sick up in prayer. People would drop off prayer requests in a little box and the group would pray for their intentions. Over time, however, the group dwindled down and down until eventually only my father was left. He went to that church every Monday night all by himself for years, praying alone in the dark.

My father died about 9 years ago after a long bout with cancer. A couple of months later, my wife and I were at a 50th wedding anniversary party for the parents of my best friend, a couple who were my second parents. At the party, a man in his late forties came up to me and sat down.

“Are you Bill Tosti’s son?” he asked.

“I am,” I said.

“I’m so-and-so and I’d like to tell you something about your father. About ten years ago I was going through a very dark time. So dark that I was seriously contemplating suicide. One night, for some reason, I stopped by the local church and stepped inside. The church was completely dark, except for the light of the presence lamp over by the tabernacle. I was drawn over to the light, and as I got closer, I saw a man kneeling in the pew next to the tabernacle. He had a bunch of slips of paper in his hand, and he was praying. As I approached, he looked up, smiled at me and said, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“That night turned my life around. Your dad helped me do that. I wanted to tell you that. I’ve cleaned up my act, straightened out my life, and I’d like to introduce you to my wife.”

I’ve been waiting for you.

We have been waiting for this night for a long time. We have been buying presents and going to Christmas pageants and listening to carols and watching movies. The children most of all. All in anticipation for what tomorrow will bring.

I remember waking up one year about 5 o’clock in the morning Christmas day. We had a strict rule that my sister and I could not go out into the living room to check out the presents under the tree until my parents called us out of our bedrooms. And so I sat there, staring into the dark for three hours, until stars formed in front of my eyes.

That’s the kind of anticipation I’m talking about. I was looking forward to what was going to be under the tree. Mine was a selfish anticipation. What’s yours?

But it’s not our anticipation of Christmas that’s important. It’s God’s anticipation of Christmas for us.

You see, God has been waiting for you. Wherever you are in your faith journey, God has been waiting for you. No matter if you are a cradle-to-grave Catholic or an avowed atheist, God has been waiting for you.

God is simply waiting for you. Sometimes in the dark, oftentimes in the background rejoicing with you, and especially when times are bad.

The shepherds were waiting that night. They were just doing their job, watching over the flocks, when suddenly everything changed. Their lives were forever changed and so have been the lives of every human being since then. The appearance of the Savior was first met with fear due to a lack of understanding. That fear turned to curiosity. And so they went to the stable. And they were met with wonder and awe.

Is that your story? Are you afraid when confronted by your need for a savior? Do you seek understanding? Are you curious? Come to the stable and be amazed.

Sometimes it’s hard to recognize the truth of who Jesus is and what that means for us. The people of Bethlehem did not stop by the stable to see the newborn baby because of anything special about his appearance or because his mother and father were important people. They came to see this wonderful thing because the heavenly hosts were rejoicing. The shepherds were invited into the stable. They were called to see the wondrous gift God had just given them.

The angels weren’t rejoicing for Jesus, they were rejoicing for us. God’s plan for the salvation of mankind was being put into motion, and they were rejoicing in expectation of our joy.

Every one of us has been called here. God has been anticipating our coming since before we were conceived in our mothers’ wombs. He hasn’t forced us to come, he has been gently calling us. Here. Tonight. To this Mass. Does that sound silly to you? We never know when or where we will encounter Jesus. Everything in our past always leads us to this moment, and that’s all we really have, isn’t it?

Is this Mass the highpoint of your Christmas season? If not, why not? This Mass right now is why there is a Christmas. Not the presents or the food or the company we keep. The reason for Christmas is that we might be aware of the awesome closeness of our God. Maybe we don’t know or live the real meaning of Christmas. Maybe we don’t have our selfish priorities in line. It doesn’t matter. God has come to us anyway. He waits for us patiently, staring out into the darkness looking for us until there are stars in His eyes.

“Glory to God in the highest
and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”

Are you waiting for something more? I can’t think of a greater gift. All you have to do is reach out and take it.

What are you waiting for?

 

Monday, December 14, 2015

Gaudate!


3rd Sunday of Advent
Cycle C
Today is the 3rd Sunday of Advent, Gaudate Sunday, and gaudate means rejoice. It’s time we stop and step out of the whirlwind of parties and shopping and Santa and Christmas carols and simply rejoice in the wonders of our God and all the marvelous things He has done for us.

We have been looking forward to commemorating the first coming of Jesus in Bethlehem, and we have been hearing the message of Jesus to be watchful and prepare for His second coming. Today we meditate on Jesus’ third coming – His entering our lives and the world each and every day.

Rejoice! The Lord is in our midst. Today. That’s the message of our readings today and that’s the message Jesus proclaimed throughout all Judea. Stop looking, you’ve found Him. He is not up in the sky somewhere or anyplace else. The Lord is in our midst. Here.Today. And that is cause for great rejoicing.

I think it is very easy for us today to lose sight of how wonderful we have it. We keep looking for the meaning of Christmas in the sights and sounds and traditions of the season, when all along they’re right here, in our hearts. It doesn’t matter if the secular world has hijacked Christmas. All Christmas is is living as a disciple of Christ, and so for us, Christmas isn’t a day and it isn’t a feeling. It is a way of life.

The Lord is in our midst in such a personal way. How much more intimate can you get than to receive Jesus Christ body, soul and divinity in the Eucharist? You can’t get much closer than that.

We rejoice in the resurrection. Have you ever stopped and considered the ramifications of the resurrection? He came back! When Jesus appeared to his disciples over those 40 days it wasn’t to say, “look at me”, it was to say, “look at you!” The resurrection was Jesus’ present, but it is our future. The glory of the risen Jesus will be our glory as well.

We rejoice in Jesus’ ascension into heaven. We rejoice that he has gone to prepare a place for us, so that where he is we also will be. And His father’s house has many rooms.

We rejoice that He has not left us alone. He has sent the Holy Spirit to us to enlighten us and sustain us. We rejoice that God has chosen to remain such an intimate part of creation, such an intimate part of our lives. We especially rejoice that Jesus Christ continues to live within us and guide us as members of his holy Church. He has chosen to work through us to transform the face of the earth.

We have a God who is so close to us that he rejoices right along with us.

He will rejoice over you with gladness,
and renew you in his love,
he will sing joyfully because of you,
as one sings at festivals.

Jesus shared in our suffering and he also shares in our rejoicing.

It is awesome and it is humbling. The gift that causes me the most joy is God’s mercy. That’s really what it’s all about. Jesus came to show us the depth of that mercy. He took all of our sins upon himself on the cross, and reconciled us to the Father. So that we could be with Him in heaven. We don’t deserve such a gift. It is a gift of pure mercy.

I don’t hear people rejoicing much anymore, do you? We live these things every day but rarely acknowledge the gifts we receive. I saw a movie on TV the other night about Dolly Parton’s childhood. About halfway through the thought occurred to me that the actors were all talking openly about God and their relationship with Him. Right there on network television. There was no parsing of words, no political correctness. It was totally natural that those characters would talk so openly about their faith. It fit the story and it fit the characters. It was not preachy or over the top. Their faith was the thread that held the whole story together. It was the foundation of their lives and not only did they recognize it, they celebrated it.

I thought it sad that I don’t hear that kind of conversation much in public today. I hear it in private conversations with my family and some of my friends. I sometime hear it before and after Mass, but not out there. It seems that our faith has become such a personal thing, just between me and God, and we rarely burst out in genuine thanksgiving. Maybe we’re afraid of the reaction we’ll get. If someone gave you a wonderful gift for Christmas, say a car or something big like that, wouldn’t you tell all your friends? Wouldn’t you have them come over to see it and take a drive with you? And wouldn’t your true friends rejoice with you over it and truly be happy for you?

We will be celebrating Christmas soon, and I’m sure life will be crazy for most of us between now and then. What can you do to acknowledge the most important gifts you will be receiving? How can you see the hand of God in every carol, every delicious meal, every child? How can you rejoice in just being alive and acknowledge the gift? How can you accept the mercy that God has extended to you and then offer that mercy to others, especially to those who have hurt you?

Sometimes it’s hard to recognize the truth of who Jesus is and what that means for us. The people of Bethlehem did not stop by the stable to see the newborn baby because of anything special about his appearance or because his mother and father were important people. They came to see this wonderful thing because the heavenly hosts were rejoicing. The shepherds were invited into the stable. They were called to see the wondrous gift God had just given them.

The angels weren’t rejoicing for Jesus, they were rejoicing for us. God’s plan for the salvation of mankind was being put into motion, and they were rejoicing in expectation of our joy.

People respond to rejoicing. It is contagious. People want to know what the fuss is all about and they naturally join in when they can. People may not want to hear you preach, but they will be drawn to your rejoicing. Who can you invite into the stable this week? Who will want to know what you are fussing about? Who will want to join in your rejoicing? And once they do, what will you tell them?

 

Sunday, November 22, 2015

Jesus Wins


Solemnity of Christ the King
Cycle B

Today we celebrate the great Solemnity of Christ, the King of the Universe. This is the last Sunday in our liturgical year, and it is fitting that at the end we take time to focus on the end of time and God’s great plan for us and for all of creation. Today we come full circle to take stock of the past year, get our priorities straight, and move on to the joyous expectation of the coming season of Advent.

And God’s plan is pretty simple: Jesus says that he is in charge and he wins. Bottom line.

To Christians, this feast is one of great hope. To us, the fact that Christ is king means that He is in control. Eventually, He triumphs over all the other kings of the world. The image of Christ as king helps us focus on the truly important. It gives us hope in the face of all the minor and major setbacks we face in our daily lives and in the world.

Pastor Rick Warren in his best-selling book, “The Purpose Driven Life” begins with chapter one – “It’s not about you”. And that’s how we should all view our lives. It’s not about us. It’s first and foremost about God. We didn’t create ourselves and we are really not in control of our lives. God did and God is. It is especially important that we remember this when we are faced with an ever-increasing secularity and outright atheism in our society. Just because someone chooses to ignore or deny God does not change the fact of God’s existence and power.

Jesus Christ is our king and we are his subjects. Our king does not lord it over us. Instead, He treats us with mercy, an unreasonable and overly-generous mercy. Like the story of the prince and the pauper, God not only does not impose His will on us, he actually got down in the dirt and became one of us. He calls us; He does not force us. He asks for our allegiance; He does not demand it.

And yet Jesus says that as our king he is also our judge. We are called to discern God’s will in our lives and then are called to live it out. We do that by how we treat other people. We will be judged on how we treat the least among us. Therefore, it’s not about us either. It’s about others. We will be judged on how well we feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and welcome the stranger. How we show our love for one another shows how much we love God, and vice versa.

Jesus Christ is king over all, not just Christians. As we heard Jesus say to Pilate in today’s gospel, His kingdom is not of this world. It transcends borders, religions, space and time. As we begin the Jubilee Year of Mercy next Sunday we should remember that our mercy and love must extend throughout the entire world, to every nation and people, no matter what religion – or no religion – they profess. That is sometimes difficult for us to reconcile in our hearts, especially if that mercy contradicts the king of our politics who is fighting for dominance in our minds.

Sometimes our lives seem more like the Game of Thrones. There are many kings in our lives, and they often war with one another for dominance over our lives. Who will we offer our allegiance to?

The king of money? How generous are you with your hard earned cash? What are you planning to do for those less fortunate than you this Christmas season? And will you do it because you want to bring the generosity of Jesus to their lives or just for a year-end tax deduction?

The king of power? What is the power structure in your marriage and family? Do you see your role as spouse or parent as being that of a servant or a tyrant? Or worse, as a hands-off manager not really engaged in each other’s lives?

The king of sensuality? Are physical pleasures and living the good life your main goal? Are you more focused on all the stuff you’ve accumulated than on the physical needs of others?

The king of politics? Have you become so rigid in your views that you cannot and will not tolerate those who think differently? Do you question their beliefs or their motives?

The king of self? Is it all about you? Can you even see it? Others can.

In the middle ages, the great age of kings, there was a power struggle being waged continuously. When I read history, it is usually with that macro view. The kings and kingdoms represented power. The great events of history are usually related through the perspective of the powerful. The common people were just buffeted by the events. They changed their allegiance to this king or that, depending on who was the winner or on who would cause them the least harm.

There were major kings and emperors and minor rulers as well. Usually it was the petty monarch that caused the most trouble for the people, because they were closer to them. Those other kings I just talked about are those petty kings. We switch our allegiance among them all the time because they are so close to us. The image of the King of the Universe can seem so far away at times. That king is in some other place and while He does exercise final dominion I have to deal with this king living in my heart right now. And it often seems like they are at war within me.

But the King of the Universe is not far away. He is not only within us He has become us. And we have become Him. When we were baptized we were anointed with the sacred chrism, the holiest of oils. Chrism represents the anointing of Jesus as king. The word Christ means literally “anointed”. When we were anointed the priest or deacon said “As Christ was anointed priest, prophet and king, so may you live always as a member of His body, sharing everlasting life”. Unlike the peasants of old, we are not simply buffeted by the whims of the king. We all share in His life. We are His body. We share in the kingdom.

The Jews anointed their kings with oil to symbolize that they were set aside by God with a special task. They were called to be wise and holy and strong and faithful to God. When the king acted so the nation flourished. When he acted contrary to God’s will the nation suffered and was even destroyed. Jesus is wise and holy and strong and faithful to the Father’s will. Therefore, when we also are wise and holy and strong and faithful we are Jesus to the world. Our anointing has set us aside for a special mission. We are the envoys of the great King. We are the ones he has sent out into the world to renew the face of the earth. We are called to bring the good news to the poor and lamentation to the powerful.

The kingdom of God is at hand. Jesus proclaimed the kingdom throughout Judea, and he commissioned his disciples to continue to proclaim the kingdom throughout the entire world.

I know this sounds like an impossible task. How can we change the world when we are so small and weak and insignificant? And we can’t. God can. And it has to start in each one of our hearts, first realizing that it isn’t about us, but ultimately it is all about us. The mystery is that it is when we are weak that we are most powerful, because it is then that we are forced to rely totally on our all-powerful King. I take solace in the thought that if it’s not all about me then it’s not all on me, either.

Because remember: Bottom line - Jesus wins.

 

 

Saturday, October 24, 2015

The Joy of the Gospel


30th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Cycle B
Jer 31: 7-9
Ps 126
Heb 5:1-6
Mk 10:46-52

The Lord Has Done Great Things for Us, We are Filled with Joy

Some folks are people of joy. You can see it in their eyes. Even when they are suffering you can still see it in their eyes. Pope St. John Paul was a man of deep joy. You can look at pictures of him throughout his life and he always had a twinkle in his eye. Even when his body was wracked with the pain of Parkinson’s disease, even at the end, he still had that look. Take a look at the poster in the gathering space on your way out and see the look of joy on Pope Francis’ face. His second encyclical is Evangelii Gaudium, The Joy of the Gospel.

You know the look. It is a sense of serenity and almost of mischief. It is the look of someone who knows something. It is the look of a person at peace.

Joy is not happiness. Happiness is a feeling. Joy is a state of being. Happiness is fleeting. Joy is eternal. Happiness can be self-directed. Joy is the result of giving of yourself to others.

Sometimes our joy springs up to the surface so hard we cannot contain it. I remember the look in my bride’s eyes as we made our promises to one another on our wedding day. I remember the deep joy I felt at the birth of our children. It was a physical feeling. You know the feeling, like your heart is going to burst out of your chest. You cannot keep it in, it is so strong.

But in those other times, when events are not bringing your joy forth, it is still there, like an inner current. You know it exists by the way you react to and handle life’s setbacks. I have seen that look in dying people’s eyes. I have seen that look in the eyes of their families as they wait.

Because joy is always based on hope.

We await in joyful hope for the coming of our savior, Jesus Christ. That’s what joy is – hope. The joy of a wedding day is based on the hopes and dreams of the life the couple have before them. The joy of a newborn baby is all about the hope in the potential that child has within it. The joy of the suffering and dying is about the hope of the resurrection.

Without hope there can be no joy, only despair.

Circumstances and events can bring our joy to the surface. Bishop Robert Barron once said that one of the strongest proofs that God exists is the reality of beauty. It is in beauty that we find good. We find good things beautiful, and they give us a visceral, physical and emotional reaction, and that’s as it should be. Even people who have never professed faith in God still react with joy at the beauty of nature, art, music, and people. That’s how God has chosen to reach out and touch their souls.

But we have something more, don’t we? Do you get an emotional feeling when you come to Mass? You should. What is more beautiful that our churches? We surround ourselves with beautiful buildings, with beautiful artwork and furnishings, with candlelight and incense. We wrap ourselves in wonderful music and prayers. But you know, it isn’t the beauty we surround ourselves that creates our joy. Our joy has led us to create these beautiful things. Because we are compelled to try to give expression to our joy, even though we usually fall far short.

I get emotional during Mass sometimes. Sometimes I get such a deep rush of joy while proclaiming the gospel that I choke up. There are many times that a piece of music causes the joy to well up within me. Beautiful music always causes me joy, especially at Mass, and especially when I hear my daughter sing. I get a rush of joy when I see the look in your eyes when you come forward to receive communion, especially when I haven’t seen you in a while.

I often stand at the head of the communion line and some song or other is being sung that brings up a joyful memory and I get teary eyed. Sometimes it’s just the tune or melody that touches me. Or someone steps forward to receive and there are tears in their eyes and I wonder why. Is it because they have been away from the Church for a long time and have finally reconciled themselves with God? Is it the joy of the Israelites returning home after years of exile, like we heard about in today’s first reading? Have they finally received the forgiveness they have so desperately sought for so long and now are part of the Body of Christ again? Or are they tears of sorrow because of some tragedy in their lives, and they are coming to the table to receive the strength they need to get through one more day?

We find joy in one another. We find joy in our families, especially in our children. Joy is always about your relationship with other people.

Do you ever feel joy at Mass? If not, why not? If joy is all about hope, why wouldn’t we feel hopeful at Mass? The Mass is the ultimate hope, the hope of our eternal salvation. The Mass is structured to give us an emotional, intellectual and spiritual connection with God, and it should cause you great joy. That connection brings us joy, and joy gives us the connection.

Many of us were raised to worship with deep piety and solemnity, and that’s a good thing. Solemnity and joy are not contradictory. Have you ever celebrated a solemn Mass with a huge organ and a choir where you didn’t really understand a word they were saying, but you felt the presence of the Holy Spirit there? That’s also joy. Solemnity does not mean dourness. Solemnity and piety are our ways of acknowledging the awesomeness and power or our God, and the hope of the promise He has given us. Respecting the Mass does not mean we have to look grumpy.

A lot of times when I’m out driving I’ll pull up to a stoplight and the person in the car beside me is just rocking out to the music. Really loudly. They’re just singing along at the top of their lungs and don’t care who sees them or hears them.

Oh wait, that’s me.

Whatever, music has that effect on us, doesn’t it? We sing because we are joyful and the action of singing makes us feel joyful. We should all sing at the top of our lungs during Mass.

Would Thanksgiving dinner be the same if everyone just sat there and said nothing? Or if just the person at the head of the table did all the talking? It’s the same with the Mass. We are all called to full, active participation in the Mass, and that’s why it’s important that we hear with our ears and our hearts, that we pray along with the priest, join in the musical celebration, and enter fully into the mystery of the Eucharist, the sign of our greatest joy and unity.

Sometimes I see someone out in the congregation who has a wide smile and a twinkle in their eye, and I find myself looking at them all the time. We are drawn to joyful people, we want to know what they know that we don’t know.  I remember one time I was serving as the deacon of the Mass during the adult confirmation at the cathedral with Bishop Wester. There were about 150 people who were being confirmed that day, and so it was taking a long time. Almost everyone who came up did so with either a blank look on their face or a look of fear that they would do something wrong. After about twenty minutes of this, a teenage girl stepped forward with such a profound smile on her face. When the bishop said “Be sealed with the gift of the Holy Spirit” she replied with a resounding “AMEN”, and then returned his embrace with enthusiasm. The bishop  turned to me and said, “Finally, some joy”.

Isn’t that sad? All those people were receiving the Holy Spirit into their hearts and souls in such a profound, life-changing way, and only one of them had informed their face. We today have been given the same wonderful gift, but has it brought us any joy? We have been led in beautiful music, and we have added our voices to the chorus. We have recited the Gloria together, a prayer giving glory to the God who created us and has given us such blessings. We have sung Alleluia and we will pray Holy, Holy, Holy. We should show our joy to those around us.

I truly believe that if we do not ever feel a deep joy in our hearts and souls during the Mass or any of the sacraments we will not truly understand what God is all about. We must have a gut reaction to God, we must have that personal of a relationship with Jesus, or I don’t think we can be joyful people. I remember when my son was born, my firstborn. I couldn’t even stay in the delivery room I was so happy. I had to rush out and call everyone I knew to tell them the joyful news. Joy cannot be contained, it must be shared.

I think our Evangelical brothers and sisters have something there when they pull out all the stops during their worship. Or like the Charismatic Catholics do who met today/yesterday for the Life in the Spirit Seminar. They let their joy spill out. I wonder how we can fulfill our mission of going forth into the world, sent from this Mass, to tell the world about the good news we have just heard and experienced, without joy.

I wonder what someone who had never been inside a Catholic Church or been to a Mass would feel and think if they saw us worship on any given Sunday. Would they see joyful people praying and singing and worshiping happily together? Would they be attracted to that experience and to our community? I hope so. Joy is why I come. Joy is why I am a deacon. Joy is why I stay. What about you?

“Our Savior Jesus Christ destroyed death
and brought life to light through the Gospel.

That is the promise we have received. That is the hope we have been given. What a wonderful promise. What a wonderful hope. What a deep, abiding joy it can bring to us.
Let it out!

Sunday, September 27, 2015

For the Children


26th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Cycle B

Stop them, Moses, they’re doing it all wrong.

Didn’t Moses know that these things had to be done a certain way? Only certain people were authorized to prophesize. There were rules to follow. These people over here are doing it right, those there are doing it wrong. As if God were limited by human beings on whom he chose to bestow his Spirit.

It is we who place limits on God’s grace. Not God. God wants all his people to be prophets. God calls everyone to prophesize his good news to everyone, not just while sitting in churches. Especially those who remain in the camp. The camp is our everyday lives. That’s where we are called to prophesize the most. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if everyone was a prophet of the truth of the gospel just to those around us?

I think that has been the message of Pope Francis. It has been a regular Popeapalooza this week, hasn’t it? All Francis all the time. His message is one of mercy and less on the trappings of faith. Get out among the people and evangelize to them where they are. Bring the gospel to the world, since that’s where most of the people are. In the camp, not in the church. He has been a living example of that gospel himself. And it is wonderful to see how the world is reacting to him, no matter the reason. Is Francis just the latest celebrity. I hope not. All I really know is that he is a prophet, and everything he is saying and doing is calling us to also be prophets, especially to those on the peripheries of society. Exactly the same way Jesus did.

People are being moved to tears just to be in his presence. But surveys are showing that there is no real “Francis effect” yet, meaning folks are not returning to the pews because of him. There is still 30% of the American public who have become “nones” in the past ten years; people who have left the church and now profess no belief.

Some things are just not priorities and are not necessary for salvation. Too many times we get hung up on those things and overlook what is necessary. In some things it doesn’t matter if you get it just right. That’s what mercy is all about. But it is important to get it right in the things that truly matter. We are called to pass on the correct teachings of Jesus, as given to us by the apostles. It matters because our salvation depends upon it. There is a plan and there is truth. Jesus told us to go and make disciples of all the nations, and teach them everything he has commanded us. Not just those commandments that are easy or that we agree with. They are commandments, after all, not suggestions.

It does matter what you believe and how you pass that on to others, especially to our children. I think we parents will be most harshly judged on how well we have prepared our children for heaven. You know, that’s the first and most important job of a parent, to help our kids get to heaven. I think our generation will be most harshly judged. At least our parents gave us some sort of Catholic identity. We have abandoned even that to the god of political correctness, and the result has been empty pews.

Are we doing it all wrong? Jesus is pretty harsh in condemning those who lead the little ones to sin.

There are two ways to get it wrong with our children. First, by our inaction and inattention. Do we teach them anything at all about their faith? Do we live up to the promise we made at their baptism that we will be their first and best teachers in the ways of faith? Or do we leave it up to the catechists who we take them to for 45 minutes once a week, until they get confirmed, then they’re on their own? We have over 500 children in our religious education programs here at St. Mary’s. Where are they today? They can’t drive themselves here.

What are we teaching them when we don’t come to Mass ourselves every week? What are we teaching them when we allow all the other activities in our lives to change our priorities? When they stand before Jesus, will he care if they were great soccer players or skiers? I hear all the time from parishioners that their greatest pain in life is that their children have left the faith. Well, what did they do themselves to give them a reason to stay? We would never dream of letting our children decide whether or not to go to school, because we know how important an education is for their success in this world. Why do we not think that their spiritual formation is that important? Is it because it is not that important to us?

And our responsibility to raise our children in the faith doesn’t stop once they’re confirmed. Studies show that the vast majority of adults between 18 and 30 who leave the Church lose their faith while at college. How could they not, with the pressures there to question their beliefs and replace them with…what exactly? Even if you have been doing everything right since they were little, I don’t know how you can fight the tide of secular society. We all struggle just to keep up. We are all trying our best to be faithful. But, how many of us with adult children even know what they believe? When was the last time you discussed your faith and theirs with them? When was the last time you prayed with them? How are you helping them raise your grandchildren for heaven?

If you look at all the social and moral hot buttons today, surveys show that Catholics hold the same basic beliefs as the general population. We have bought into the conventional wisdom of the day. We are not counter-cultural; we are the culture. We watch the same television shows and movies, listen to the same degrading music, and when the social activism d’jour pops up that turns everything on its head, we not only cower before it, we embrace it and wonder why our Church can’t keep up with the times. And then we complain and blame when our children leave.

And that’s how we lead the little ones astray. Is it because we do not know enough about our own faith to know that what we’re embracing is wrong? Wrong for our spiritual, mental and emotional health and wrong for humanity? Spirituality abhors a vacuum. If we do not fill that hole in our souls with the living God, then other things, unhealthy things, will fill it for us. Society will fill it for us.

Jesus slams the false teachers pretty hard today. If you do anything to lead a simple believer to sin it would be better if you were dead. Not just dead, but thrown into the sea with a huge stone tied around your neck. Dead and gone to the deep, forgotten. Jesus didn’t often get this graphic. He said something like it one other time, when talking about his betrayer. “It would be better if he had never been born”. Non-existence was preferable to the sin of betrayal. And that is what leading someone astray really is; a betrayal. Betrayal of the sacred trust given us by God to learn the truth about Him and then faithfully pass that on to others, especially to our children. That sacred trust calls us to be prophets.

Is Jesus just speaking in hyperbole today? I don’t think so. And he wasn’t given to euphemisms, either. Sometimes he could be pretty blunt.

If your technology causes you to sin because you are more concerned with answering that text than you are about hearing about what your son did in school today, cut it off.

If your viewing pornography has distorted the way you view your spouse to the point where you cannot be satisfied in your relationship any more, cut it off.

If your political beliefs have become so hardened that you cannot even bear to be in a relationship with someone with a different point of view, pluck them out.

If you judge yourself superior to another Catholic because they do not live up to your understanding of piety, cut it out.

If you have so bought into the conventional wisdom of our secular society that you reject the most basic teachings of your church because you know better, pluck it out. Even worse if you attack and try to destroy those who try to be faithful to them.

It is better that you enter heaven without these things then to enter Gehenna with them. Let go of what is keeping you from prophesying the truth. Let go of what is keeping you from being an effective, loving witness - a Francis - to those in your everyday world. To everyone. To those left in the camp. Especially to the children.

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

Am I a "Bad" Catholic?


Dear Leah, Facebook is really a poor venue to discuss matters of this importance, and these issues cannot be distilled down into bumper sticker slogans or a simple yes or no, so I will try to address what I think is the core issue you ask about: Do you have to believe, and obey, every teaching of the Catholic Church in order to be a “good” Catholic? Sorry if this is longer than you anticipated.

You have come to me in my role as your teacher. I believe my role is to lay out for you as clearly and as concisely as I can what the official Catholic Church teaching is. If I give my opinion I will note that. As a deacon, I offer my humble obedience to the Church, and I hope I can get out of the way and let the truth out. If I can make it easier for you to make decisions, great. But I can only propose, not impose, and I try not to make judgments. Hopefully you will read this with that in mind.

First of all, I think it has nothing to do with being good or bad. I would say that all of us fail to live up to the gospel all the time. I think the question should be, not are we good or bad but are we faithful Catholics? And what are the consequences of being faithful or unfaithful? It is far easier to determine and less judgmental to talk about being faithful than to question someone’s motives or character.

I think it gets down to two basic questions: 1) What is my belief in what the Church is and what is its role in my life and in the world and 2) Why do I want to live as part of the Church?

I believe there is one God, and that God is truth. Therefore, I can and should search for the truth where it can be found. I am also a disciple of Jesus, and he left His Church here on earth with a mission.  The mission of the Church is to preach the good news of Jesus Christ risen to the world. The gospel is not a set of guidelines. It is not a suggestion. It is a radical realignment of my beliefs and life to Jesus. And Jesus explicitly set up his Church to speak with his authority. When you hear the Church today you are hearing Jesus. “He who hears you, hears me.” (Lk 10:16)

Along with the truth goes responsibility and authority. St. John says that we are Jesus’ friends if we keep his commandments. Jesus explicitly gave the apostles his authority in his physical absence. “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations. Baptize them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Teach them to carry out everything I have commanded you, and remember, I am with you until the end of the age.” (Mt 28:18-20)

That word “therefore” is important. Jesus claims all authority and then gives that authority to his apostles. He says that he will be with the Church always, and so we have always believed and acted that the Church is Christ visible and working in the world throughout history and today. The Church, through its adherence to scripture, sacred Tradition, and the Magisterium (the teaching authority, ie. the bishops in communion with the pope) have the authority of Jesus and so can speak the truth. This belief is not based on the whim of some people in Rome but upon Jesus’ statement, “What you bind on earth is bound in heaven, and what you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.” (Mt 18:18) “By this appreciation of the faith, aroused and sustained by the Spirit of truth, the People of God, guided by the sacred teaching authority (Magisterium)…receives…the faith, once for all delivered to the saints…The People unfailingly adheres to this faith, penetrates it more deeply with right judgment, and applies it more fully in daily life.” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 93)

We believe we are more than just a bunch of people who believe that we need to love one another. All major religions believe that. Christians follow the authority of Jesus and his Church. You can’t claim to be a Christian without being part of the Church. And the Church has always taught and believed that the ultimate sign of love of neighbor is to want our neighbor to get to heaven along with us. To that end we pray for, instruct, and sometimes admonish each other. A true friend will tell us whenever we are doing something that is not in our best interests.

However, the Church does not force anybody to be faithful. Every one of us needs to make our own choices. Jesus himself never forced anyone to follow him. Even when he received pushback on his teachings on divorce and the nature of his body and blood, he didn’t change his position in order to win people over. Instead, he asked, “Will you also leave me?”

The Church’s role is to try to save souls. We are all trying to get to heaven. When all is said and done, that’s the real issue, isn’t it? The Church is charged with telling the world Jesus’ commandments. That’s it. We will all either accept or reject them. The consequence of accepting and living those commandments is eternity with God. The consequence of rejecting them is eternity without God.

There is a lot of talk about following our consciences in these matters, and to an extent, that’s correct. Ultimately I am the only one responsible for my actions. But how do I inform my conscience? Through the media? Based upon my politics? Through the influence of others? Do I even do it consciously? To be faithful, I must inform my conscience according to the beliefs of the Church. Having an opinion and then accepting or rejecting a teaching on that subject based upon whether or not it agrees with my opinion has it backwards. I have not the authority to declare the Church wrong on issues of faith or morals. Jesus gave that authority to his Church. I only have the authority to accept or reject it.

The Church issues teachings and makes statements on many, many things, and each statement or teaching may have different levels of importance or authority. There is a “hierarchy of truths”. Some teachings are binding on all who wish to be faithful to Catholic beliefs and some are not. Whenever the Church says a teaching is binding on all Catholics, it states that clearly and up front. Things like protecting life from conception to natural death, the obligation to go to Mass every Sunday (and the rest of the commandments), the definition of marriage, the preferential option for the poor, etc. are some examples of these. Therefore, it’s pretty easy to determine which teachings I am called to follow if I am to live my faith as a Catholic.

The Church usually is very clear and specific on what it teaches on issues like abortion, marriage, etc. But most Catholics never read those teachings. Rather, they get their information on them from the media in short, headline-grabbing soundbites. If the teaching jives with my beliefs it’s good, if it doesn’t, it’s bad and I can ignore it. Or, if it’s from a pope or bishop I like, it’s good, but if it’s not, forget it. Sometimes we do theological and semantic gymnastics to force a clear teaching into our own belief system to justify ourselves.

Sincerity has nothing to do with it. There are lots of folks who sincerely believe things that are harmful to themselves and others. It takes time and effort sometimes to get to the truth. Just issuing a stubborn NO or a blind YES without really knowing what they’re rejecting or accepting shuts down the conversation and keeps us from forming our consciences in the Truth.

For myself, if I feel conflicted on issues where I feel my own beliefs or politics are out of sync with Church teaching, I start with prayer and ask for God’s wisdom. Then I go to the source and read what that teaching actually is. Usually I go to the Vatican website or the website for the US Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB). I try to read with an open mind, knowing that there is 2000 years of really smart thinking behind it. Plus, there’s Jesus’ promise to send the Holy Spirit to guide His Church to consider. Then, I talk to people I trust in leadership in the Church, folks who have studied these things and can help me understand them.

In my experience, on the important stuff the Church has gotten it right. I trust the Church, even though sometimes its members have screwed up. Truth is not declared untrue just because I fail to live up to it or even believe it to be untrue, because truth is from God.

It’s comforting to me to know that even though I am oftentimes one of those screw-ups, there is a constant, consistent authority I can turn to in order to help me inform my conscience. That conscience helps me to navigate the myriad of spiritual, moral, and temporal issues confronting me in the world today. There is truth, and if I am faithful to the truth, as I believe it to be found in the body of Christ, I will ultimately go to heaven. And maybe we can help each other get there. That’s why I choose to be Catholic.

You asked specifically about the SCOTUS decision on marriage this week. If you haven’t already done so, you can to read exactly what the Church teaches on homosexual unions here:http://www.vatican.va/roman_curia/congregations/cfaith/documents/rc_con_cfaith_doc_20030731_homosexual-unions_en.html. This was written by Cardinal Ratzinger as head of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith before he was Pope Benedict, and was approved by Pope Saint John Paul II and affirmed by Pope Francis. Here is the statement of the US Bishops on the Supreme Court ruling: http://www.usccb.org/news/2015/15-103.cfm. The best place for most folks to go for exactly what the Church teaches is the Catechism of the Catholic Church, which can be found online or at any bookstore.

I hope this helps. See you at Mass!

 

Sunday, June 21, 2015

Our Father


Father’s Day

Cycle B

Today is Father’s Day, and so I would like to talk about fathers. I don't usually preach on a secular holiday, but I think it is appropriate to do so today because we will hear God referred to as father many times in this Mass and in every Mass. We will also all pray the Our Father together. When we were baptized we heard that as disciples we would call God our father in the midst of the Church. And so today is about much more than honoring our own fathers. It is also about recognizing and celebrating the image of God as our father.

Why do we call God father? Doesn’t that limit God? Isn’t that sexist and exclusionary? The Episcopal Church just last week began a movement to begin calling God mother. Does it matter if we image God as male or female, mother or father? Actually, it does.

We call God father because that is how God has chosen to reveal himself to his people. As Christians, we trust Jesus and believe him to be who he says he is. Jesus himself called God father. Actually, he often called him not father but daddy. Abba. He said that no one knows the father but the son, and no one knows the son but the father, and anyone to whom the father chooses to reveal him.

So we believe Jesus knew what he was talking about. Jesus didn’t call God father because he was raised in a patriarchal society where women were inferior. Give Jesus more credit than that. Jesus busted out of his culture all the time. Jesus called God his father because he knows the nature of God better than anyone. He knew that the image of father most closely described the true attributes of the creator, and he knew his disciples would understand those attributes.

In Jesus’ day, the father was everything to a family. He was the provider and protector, the one who could continue the line of descendants to build up the family. He had all the rights and privileges and held total control over the lives and property of the family. He was actually like a king in his rights and responsibilities. And it was the role of the father that held the society together. The father was the center of the family and therefore was due great respect. So much so that there is even a commandment to honor your father and your mother. The Jews did not see this as an image of repression but as an image of strength, stability and love.

The insight Jesus gave us into the nature of God is of a strong, loving, compassionate, forgiving father. Isn’t that a good thing? If you think about it, isn’t that the nature of Jesus as well? Whenever he modeled those behaviors wasn’t he showing us what the father is like? He told Philip, “When you see me you see the father,” and “The Father and I are one.”

Jesus, even though he had no biological children, often acted as a father. We see Jesus imaging a father in today’s gospel. I love this image. Dad is sleeping on the couch after a long, hard day. The kids are causing chaos around him but he is oblivious to it all, until a fight breaks out and they run to Dad to act as referee. “Daddy, wake up, Johnny hit me. Tell him to stop!” And so Dad gets up, rebukes the chaos and it obeys him. Quiet ensues, Dad mutters something to the kids like, “Why can’t you guys get along?” and goes back to sleep. 

The disciples turned to Jesus in their fear and he set things right. A good father is like that. Fathers are supposed to be in control. From the time we were little, Dad has been the one who protects us. Dad rights the wrongs. Dad is a strong figure, someone who is loving yet firm. For me, Dad was the one who calmed the storm. Dad was the one person who I could count on to do what was right, to be that pillar of strength.

You don’t have to be a man to give a strong witness to the fatherhood of God. Many of you have assumed the roles of both father and mother in single parent households. It is important that you have a healthy image of what a father should be. Even if your own father has failed to live up to the ideal, you always have the perfect father in heaven. Even if you fail to live up to your mission as a child of God, you still have Jesus to emulate and follow.

By focusing on God as your father you can become a better son or daughter. By focusing on Jesus as the son you can become a better child of God and a better disciple. We ourselves serve more than just one role, don’t we? Whether we are male or female, sometimes we are called to live the attributes of a father, sometimes those of a mother, and sometimes we live as children. What’s wrong with that? If we know that about ourselves why do we get hung up on one single image of God, so that if that image is challenged in any way we feel threatened?

We have multiple images of ourselves, just like we should have multiple images of God. God is neither male nor female, yet God has chosen to reveal himself to humanity throughout the millennia primarily as Father. So, is it safe to say that being father is not necessarily male or female? God has not set himself up as an oppressive male authority figure. Some have given him that image. God wants us to relate to him in a healthy image that is extremely close to each one of us personally.

Studies show the deep influence a father has on a person’s life. Some of that influence is positive and some is negative, but there is no denying how important a father is in the development of each of us as children. We carry the effects of our fathers’ relationship with us throughout our entire lives.

Why should imaging God as Father take away from you as a woman or as a single man? What does it take away from you to see yourself with the attributes of God as father? How does it diminish you? Why can’t we let it add to us, rather than sticking ourselves in a box of labels?

I understand that for some people it is painful and difficult to image God as father because their relationship with their own father has been less than stellar. Not all fathers are pillars of the community. Not all fathers treat their families as they should. Some are violent and abusive. None of us live up to the image and example of our heavenly father. Being a father has been the most difficult role of my life, and one I’ve failed in more than succeeded. But that doesn’t mean I give up and choose to stop trying to be a good dad.

Just because we fail to live up to our role as father does not take away from that aspect of God. To diminish the image of God as father just because our own fathers, or we ourselves, fall far short can lead us to bitterness and despair. That would be like saying that Jesus was the perfect human being so that makes me less human. In fact, the opposite is true. Because something or someone is good does not make us less so. It’s not zero sum, you win, I lose. God gives us the image of the perfect father so that we can see our own value in that role.

Our image of God as father says less about God than it does about us and our relationship with God and with our families. Whenever Jesus spoke of the father he always spoke in terms of his and our relationship with the father. It was always about us. It was always, “My father” or “Your heavenly father.” We image God as father because that makes us children of God. It tells us what our roles are and how we are to relate to one another. We will never be our parents. In that relationship we will always be the children. We will never be God. We will always be his children, and so we should not try to be God. And yet we so often set ourselves up as God, don’t we?

It’s good that we have days set aside to recognize and celebrate our fathers and mothers. Not because they are perfect, but because they can be perfected, and because we are all called to live as father and mother, and we too can be perfected. We celebrate the traits and attributes that make them, and us, holy. Because isn’t that what fatherhood is all about? Holiness? Loving as God loves? Providing the strength and stability our families need, our society needs? Calming the storm when those around us are afraid? It is when we are holy that we are truly fathers, living the image of God to the world.

 

 

 

Sunday, March 15, 2015

Light and Darkness


4th Sunday of Lent
Cycle B

I think one of the main reasons people reject Christianity is because they think that we’re all about condemnation. That we sit up on our high horse and judge people’s behavior against some sort of unreasonable, out-of-date standard. A standard that we ourselves cannot even uphold. We don’t change with the world, we try to change the world, and that can be painful. Painful not because we have the power to condemn or force people to behave as we’d like them to, but because deep down most folks realize that they’re not living as they should, and they may need to change their thinking and their behavior.
It is the struggle of the ages, isn’t it? We read today the story of the Jewish people’s exile to Babylon and subsequent return to Jerusalem 70 years later. The people and their leaders had turned away from God and rejected Him. They practiced all sorts of immorality and didn’t think the God of their fathers was good enough or applicable for them anymore. They stopped listening to the prophets and the word of God. Sound familiar?

In the Old Testament God works his will through people, often through the actions of the leaders. The scripture writers interpreted the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple as just punishment for the sins of the people. They were just getting what they deserved. The Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzer was doing God’s will when he carried the Jews off into slavery, and the Emperor Cyrus was doing the same when he allowed the Jews to return to Jerusalem. I don’t know if those kings actually saw it that way, but the Jews did, and that’s what counts.

There is a definite cause and effect relationship throughout the scriptures. If you do God’s will you will be rewarded; if you don’t you will be punished. God will show you mercy after you have paid for your sins. He will allow you to come back to him. That’s an incomplete and unsatisfying understanding. Jesus doesn’t see things that way, does he? Jesus is not about judgment, he’s all about mercy and forgiveness. Mercy before you have paid. He says so today in his conversation with Nicodemus.

For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, 
but that the world might be saved through him.
Whoever believes in him will not be condemned.






The way Jesus sees it, God is not the one who condemns; we condemn ourselves. God does not choose pain and separation for us, we choose it for ourselves. Jesus does not say there is no condemnation, only that it is not God who will condemn us. God is all about mercy, and He will do everything possible to call us back to Him and welcome us home into his presence. He will show us the way, even going so far as to send His only Son to us to show us the way, to be our light and guide.

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.
Light and darkness are such strong images for us. We equate darkness with evil. We call Satan the Prince of Darkness, and we fear the dark. We feel uncomfortable in the dark. We fear the unknown, we fear what we cannot control. We’re afraid we’ll stumble and fall in the dark. Darkness is frightening for us only because we know the difference between light and darkness. We fear the darkness because that’s where bad things can happen. But sometimes we prefer the darkness because that’s where we can hide.

The light came into the world, 
but people preferred darkness to light,
because their works were evil.
For everyone who does wicked things hates the light
and does not come toward the light, 
so that his works might not be exposed.

The ironic thing about Nicodemus is that he was attracted to Jesus, but he only wanted to meet him at night. He didn’t want his friends and neighbors to know that he was a disciple of Jesus, because he was a high ranking Pharisee. He should have known better. And so he wanted to hide it. Jesus didn’t mind. He met him where he was in his faith and came to him. It wasn’t about who Nicodemus was now. It was about who he could become. Jesus knew that eventually Nicodemus would come out into the light.
The saddest thing about living in the darkness is that we feel less about ourselves and alienate ourselves from God and his community. We can beat ourselves up so much that we actually stay away from God. How wretched you must feel to keep yourself from God. Have you ever not come to Mass because you felt unworthy? Or stayed away because you were not in the “right frame of mind” to receive the Eucharist; that you just didn’t think you could come to Mass with all those people there and try to pretend that everything was ok? Why just go through the motions?

Do you think that you shouldn’t come to Mass if you haven’t exactly been living a perfect Christian life lately? I mean, why add one more hypocrite to the mix? Do you think that you have to have it all together in order to worship the Lord? I’m not perfect, so I’ll stay away. Does Jesus really only call the righteous? If that were the case there’d be no one here. It’s sort of like saying that I’m starving, so I really shouldn’t come to the banquet. The very thing you think you should avoid is the thing you really need. Sometimes we blind ourselves to what we’re really doing here.

It’s ironic that the best way to become worthy of the Eucharist is to experience the Eucharist. None of us can ever make ourselves worthy of being here. Only God can make us worthy, just by willing it so. So we have a choice, to beat ourselves up for not being worthy or to accept the grace of God that allows us to see. To exclude ourselves from the banquet or to humbly accept the invitation.

You see, it’s not cause and effect. It’s all mercy. It’s not darkness. It’s light. No matter how long we have stumbled around in the dark, we can change and come into the light. As long as we sincerely seek the truth we will never remain in the darkness. It is our choice.

But whoever lives the truth comes to the light, 
so that his works may be clearly seen as done in God.

 

 

 

Saturday, February 14, 2015

The Shamers


6th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Cycle B

Last Thursday, the New York Times published an article by Jon Ronson entitled “How One Stupid Tweet Blew Up Justine Sacco’s Life”.  In it he talks about a 30 year old public relations executive who, while traveling from New York to South Africa for the Christmas holidays in 2013, fired off a series of tweets about the indignities of international travel. Most were just harmless complaining, but the last one completely changed her life. On December 20, just before boarding the plane for an 11 hour flight to Cape Town she tweeted, “Going to Africa. Hope I don’t get AIDS. Just kidding. I’m white!”

Little did she know that her inappropriate statement would go viral far beyond her 170 twitter followers to almost immediately become the number one trending tweet in the entire world. And she was completely oblivious to what was going on as she slept on the flight. By the time she arrived in Cape Town, there were tens of thousands of angry tweets in response to her comment, all calling for her head. But it went beyond that to become a form of entertainment, as thousands of people anticipated what Justine’s reaction would be when she got off the plane and turned on her phone to see what had happened. Someone even went to the airport to tweet to the world about what she was like as she deplaned.

Justine’s entire life since then has been a living hell. She lost her job and received hate mail and death threats. She has been mocked virtually the world over. She cannot date because any potential suitor runs away after Googling her. Her family in South Africa has been hiding in shame. She eventually took a job at a Non-Governmental Organization in Africa, trying to hide from her detractors, but as one of her friends tweeted, “Sorry, your tweet lives on forever.”

Ronson goes on to chronicle many more instances of public shaming today, usually because someone posted something stupid or insensitive on social media, or because a post was taken completely out of context. It is a sad reality of our times that the practice of shaming has become so widespread and vicious.

It was the same for the early Jews. We hear today Moses’ prescription for the treatment of lepers by the community. Lepers were to be treated as outcasts from the community. Even the suspicion of leprosy meant exile. There were two reasons for this; first, it was a public health issue. Leprosy is extremely contagious, so it made sense to isolate those suffering from it. However, it was also a question of morality. The ancient Jews believed that the sick suffered because they were sinners. If you pleased the Lord He would bless you with good health, wealth, long life and children. If you were poor, sickly or barren it was because you or your parents had done something sinful, and God was punishing you for it. Lepers had to actually take the posture of the penitent - rending their clothes and uncovering their heads – not because they were sick but because their sin had made them impure. They were unclean and to have contact with them not only exposed you to their illness but to their sin. To touch the unclean made you unclean.

And people would be very cruel to the unclean. They would drive them away, throw rocks at them, and cut them off from everything they loved. They would be publicly humiliated and shunned. Like poor Justine Sacco, they would lose everything and live in desperation. All because of ignorance and a mob mentality. Look! There’s the evil one. Not me. You!

And so Jesus’ compassion towards the leper in the gospel today has several meanings. Of course the leper wanted to be returned to health. He did not want to suffer and eventually die all alone. But he really wanted to have his dignity restored. He wanted to be clean again, both in body and soul. He also believed that he was suffering because of something he or his parents had done. His self-guilt was probably worse pain than his physical suffering. And he wanted the shaming to stop.

It was easy for Jesus to heal him physically. But what about the emotional scars? What about his family and neighbors? Would they really believe that he had been made whole? And even if they believed the evidence of his cure, would they ever think of him as more than a sinner? Would his tweet live on forever?

The leper came to Jesus out of desperation. He had nothing to lose. He fell at Jesus’ feet and groveled in the dirt. And he said basically, “You are the only one who can make me clean. You are the only one I trust not to judge me. You are the last person I can turn to and I desperately hope you won’t turn me away. Please make me clean. Please see me as a person of value. Please don’t join in the shaming but accept me.”

And Jesus did. What else could he do? He didn’t see before him a sinner being punished for what he had done. He saw him as a complete human being. He returned his dignity to him. And he made him feel that he was free from the effects of sin. It’s as if all had been wiped clean.

But what about the cultural norms of the day? Jesus was also telling Jewish society that this poor leper was a human being and should no longer be cut off from the community. Instead of joining in shunning him, he accepted him and gave the example of how to treat people with illness. Jesus did this often. “Which is easier to say, your sins are forgiven, or rise, pick up your mat, and walk?”

We fall into the same prejudices today against the sick, the poor, the elderly and the infirm. We often see them as unproductive, worthless, people to be shunned. Our hospitals and nursing homes are filled with people who suffer all alone. We visit folks every week here in Park City whose family and friends have abandoned them. They wait to die alone. All they want is to be made clean.

We look back on the public humiliations of the Middle Ages and think them to be ignorant and cruel. But we do the same thing today all over social media. We sit here in Church on Sunday yet tomorrow will revel in the vitriol that is hurled all over the internet against those who do not share our political beliefs, our nationality, our sports teams, or who simply make a mistake. Just ask Brian Williams. The only difference between now and a thousand years ago is that we can do it anonymously. The mob has only gotten bigger and meaner and crosses international boundaries.

With four simple words Jesus can change things. “I do will it.” God’s will is what is what matters, and he does will that we be clean. And he wants us to see those around us who are hurting as clean also. He wants us to step out from the mob and not join in the shaming of the vulnerable.

Because you know, some day that vulnerable, suffering, worthless-feeling person will be you.