Apocalypse Now

33^rd Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle B

DN 12:1-3

Heb 10:11-14, 18

Mk 13:24-32

We are nearing the end of the liturgical year, and so our readings take a turn to the future. At the end, we focus on the end. Jesus spoke so many times of the end times, of the second coming of the Son of Man. And to the Jews of the first century, this made perfect sense, because they were people looking for deliverance. They were actively searching for a messiah, someone who would deliver them from Roman oppression. One reason the disciples believed Jesus to be the promised messiah was his constant references to and predictions of the coming judgement. And that judgement was not one of punishment but of restoring justice to the world. The judgement of the Son of Man was the restoration of what once was, of setting things right.

Books like the Prophet Daniel and Revelation were written during times of great persecution and distress. They use very symbolic language not necessarily to explain what was happening to the people at that time but to give them hope. Their distress was being caused by powerful political forces, by the superpowers of their time. What the authors of these books were trying to convey was the fact that no matter how mighty earthly powers may be, God is more powerful. No matter how much the rulers of this world think they are in control, God is actually the one calling the shots.

Take the first reading for today, from the Book of Daniel. We heard about a time unsurpassed in distress. We heard that Michael, our prince, the great archangel, joins us in the battle against evil. The name Michael comes from three short Hebrew words: Mi-Ka-El: Who Like God?  The ancient kings who ruled when Daniel was written were considered to be gods. So the prophet’s response is Mi-Ka-El? Who is like God? The answer, of course, is no one. God is the Source who has no source. He is the Light all light comes from. He is the one in charge.

The reading speaks about the end of time and the final judgement of the world. We heard that those whose names are written in God's book will escape the destruction coming upon mankind. We learned that the wise shall shine brightly and those who lead many to justice will be like the stars forever.

Those who lead many to justice will shine like the stars forever. This is where the readings about the end of time become less about something we hope will be in the far future and more about the way that we are living our faith now. We need to lead the many to justice. Biblical justice is more than fair treatment in a courtroom. In the bible, justice means living so united to God that our decisions reflect his presence.

We are called to lead others to justice. We are called to help them see his presence in our actions, our care for the poor, the struggling, the sick, and all who are dependent on our compassion. Pope St. Paul VI, proclaimed, "If you want peace, work for justice." This message has animated many areas of the Catholic Church, particularly the Catholic Campaign for Human Development here in the United States. The Catholic Campaign for Human Development, Catholic Relief Services, the Diocesan Development Drive, missions in Haiti, Africa and throughout the world, the Peace Corps, Doctors Without Borders, and so many other charitable organizations are examples of the wise shining brightly. These organizations of charity exist because there are people of faith in the world, people whose faith is so strong that no matter what horrors have been or are being thrust upon the world, they firmly believe that God will win the final battle against evil. 

Pope Benedict said, "the question of justice constitutes the essential argument - or in any case the strongest argument - in favor of faith in eternal life." True justice may be rare in this life, but eternal life is justice itself. Jesus will come to judge the living and the dead. In today's Gospel we see that after judgment Jesus will gather his elect. If we begin with that end in mind, then wouldn’t we want to know how we become part of the elect? That's the big question. In some ways, the only question. We should want to live as children of the light. Turn to God and renounce those things people do under the cover of darkness. We all bear a burden of shame. Don't run from it; take it to Jesus. Turn to him. As we hear in the second reading, he has offered one sacrifice for sin. In Jesus we can make a new beginning.

The disciples were very concerned about the end times. Mark’s gospel was the first written and that generation took Jesus at his word that he would return before some of them had even died. When the apostles started dying off they had to re-think Jesus’ words to see how they applied to them in particular.

Of course, two thousand years on, the people of today don't think like those early disciples. We tend to have the opposite problem; our temptation today is to think that the world will exist for thousands more years. Believing this we tend not to think too much about the end of the world or even for that matter about the end of our own lives. Like the disciples, we need to re-think Jesus’ words to see how they apply to us in particular.

But we need to prepare for our death, we need to put our lives in order, we need to confess our sins, we need to get ourselves in shape from a spiritual point of view so that we are ready to meet our maker whenever that day comes. But our death and the Final Judgement, while it is something we need to prepare for, is not something that we should be afraid of. Indeed, it is the very opposite, it is something we should hope for, something we should rejoice in. Pessimism is not the Christian attitude. Christians are optimists. Jesus Christ became one of us, died for us, gave us his life, and offers a personal relationship to each of us. He actually came so that we could be part of the elect.

This generation may or may not be around for the second coming of Christ. However, we can experience the second coming in our current life by keeping our eyes open and being aware of Jesus’ presence in our lives each and every day. By living lives of justice we can bring the hope of Jesus’ actual second coming to all those we come in contact with. That is the role of a disciple, that is the good news of the gospel.

This Thanksgiving be grateful for the gift of justice. This Advent and Christmas season commit yourself to performing works of justice. Go to confession and be at peace. Give a little bit more to church and charity. Surprise the people around you with simple gifts – a smile, a touch, an unexpected phone call. Reconcile with an estranged friend or family member. In a word, be the second coming of Jesus in their lives…for now.

Servant Leadership

29^th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle B

IS 53:10-11

Heb 4:14-16

Mk 10:35-45

There is a principle of leadership that is popular today called servant leadership. Robert K. Greenleaf first coined the phrase in his 1970 essay, "The Servant as a Leader." As a servant leader, you're a "servant first" – you focus on the needs of others, especially team members, before you consider your own. It is a management style that, while it does have a kinder, more moral focus, is still ultimately intended to get better results from managing people. The focus is still on the bottom line, not necessarily the well being of the employees. There are entire institutes and training programs that people pay thousands of dollars to attend to learn the simple principle that people follow leaders who do not lord it over them, who put their interests ahead of their own.

I find it funny and a bit ironic that all the references I’ve read on servant leadership make it seem like it is a new innovation, almost revolutionary, when the idea goes back 2000 years. Jesus was the ultimate people leader, after all. He stated many times that the Son of Man came to serve, not to be serve. He said that the first among you must serve the rest. He washed his disciples’ feet at the last supper and told them to do the same to one another.

There’s a lot of talk these days in the Church about clericalism. Pope Francis keeps talking about it as being at the core of the crisis in the church today. He talks a lot about leaders being too interested in power and prestige, in enforcing strict rules on their people rather than humbly meeting their everyday needs with compassion and understanding. They need to get out of their nice houses and smell like the sheep. Francis thinks that clerics at all levels have lost sight of the type of servant leadership Jesus talks about in today’s gospel. This has led them to believe the rules don’t apply to them, that they can do horrendous acts without consequences, and that this attitude is what has been at the center of the scandals that surround us.

I have a bit of experience in this. It’s hard sometimes to remain humble as a cleric in the Catholic Church. People tend to put clerics on a pedestal. Luckily, permanent deacons aren’t thought of the same way priests and bishops are. I think many people are still trying to figure out who we are and what we do. But still, people defer to us. They call us by our titles and see us serving at the altar, preaching and working with the poor and the sick, and so we are given a certain level of respect that I didn’t get before I was ordained.

Priests are given even more deference. Maybe it comes from the respect that was drummed into us as children. When I was in grade school the pastor would come by our classroom once a week, and we all had to stand up when he entered the room and politely listen to him. Our parents spoke of the priests respectfully, and we all seemed to recognize that these guys in black were special in some way. Some seemed grave and serious, others had a sense of peace surrounding them. There were so few of them compared to us, they dressed differently, and at Mass, they were up there and we were down here. The awesome ability to transform bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ gave them an aura of the divine.

So, I think we the people have something to do with clericalism, too. It’s we who set up those pedestals oftentimes, and put our priests and bishops on them whether they like it or not. It can be hard to remain humble when people treat you as being special. Just like celebrities start to believe their own publicity, clerics can get caught up in the prestige and trappings of the vocation at the expense of smelling like the sheep.

The way the church is organized has a lot to do with the style of leadership priests have, I think. The pastor of the parish really has a heck of a lot of autonomy. He is the ultimate decision maker, the one with all the authority and responsibility. And just like in the business world, it is easy to become autocratic when given all that power. I think also the frustrations of leading a parish, trying to get things done through so many volunteers, many of whom seem to do nothing but complain, can lead to a more dictatorial style of leadership.

And it is even more difficult for the bishops. Bishops have all the authority and responsibility in the diocese. They are very visible, they preside at all the major liturgies and functions, they’re quoted in the press. And in most dioceses, the people rarely meet or spend time with their bishop outside of the confirmations he performs. We view them oftentimes more like politicians than shepherds, and sometimes they act like it, too.

I believe that most clerics feel called to servant leadership and truly strive to serve rather than dictate, but just like James and John in today’s gospel, we sometimes seek power rather than service.

Poor James and John, they go to Jesus asking for positions of power and they get suffering instead. They practically demand that Jesus give them the most prestigious positions among not just the apostles but all of humanity. What hubris. And instead Jesus gives them a choice. Can they accept the baptism of suffering and death that Jesus has accepted for himself? They have no idea what he is really referring to. They do not know what this baptism is, but they figure, if they say yes they’ll get what they want, so they agree. So Jesus says, ok, you’ve got it, but sorry, you don’t get the good stuff you asked for. You really aren’t as important as you think you are.

But then, if you think about it, Jesus did give them what they asked for, because he gave them the same thing he had. Jesus, the greatest servant of them all, was willing to give so totally of himself that he would take the sins of all humanity upon himself, and suffer and die to wipe them out. His total emptying of himself, accepting the ultimate humiliation of dying on a cross for the salvation of the world, actually made him the greatest person who ever lived. By accepting weakness he was made so powerful that he triumphed even over death itself. He was offering James and John that same power. By humbling themselves they would gain eternal life.

Jesus smacked James and John pretty hard, and their fellow apostles didn’t like their attitude much either. But he did it out of love. He used their arrogance as a chance to instruct them in how they should all behave. We are called to do the same with one another. It has been my experience that whenever I get a bit arrogant and self-important, God sends something my way to knock me down a peg or two. It may be the loss of some important position I was expecting to receive, or the failure of one of my initiatives. Many times it is one of you taking it to me, sometimes none too gently.

Clericalism isn’t just for clerics. The people can also be arrogant and condescending to their clerics and to one another. This group feels they know the really proper and true way to worship. That group thinks they know more theology than the priest or deacon, and they tell him so. Most don’t give the priest a thought other than when they see him on Sunday. They are quick to complain and gossip but rarely try to get to know him or ask him what his intent was behind what he said or did. When was the last time you thanked your priest for his dedication to your wellbeing and salvation? When was the last time you told him you were moved by his homily rather than write a nasty letter to the bishop about one you didn’t agree with? When was the last time you invited him over to your house for dinner to get to know him?

We are all called to be servants to one another. Just as our leaders are called to serve us, we are called to serve them. Not out of some misplaced awe of the hierarchy but out of love for them and appreciation for what they do. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if every member of the church truly lived the life of a servant? Wouldn’t it be great if we could put aside all the power trips and prestige-seeking and condescension towards those we disagree with and just concentrate on modeling Jesus? What would the world be like if we could all forgive one another as we have been forgiven?

As St. Paul said, it is when I am weak that I am the strongest. The most influential and revered saints in history have been the most humble. And throughout our history, whenever the Church has been in crisis, that’s when we see our greatest saints. We just celebrated the feast of one of them, St. Francis of Assisi. As it says in the prayer attributed to him:

O Master, let me not seek as much
to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved as to love,
for it is in giving that one receives,
it is in self-forgetting that one finds,
it is in pardoning that one is pardoned,
it is in dying that one is raised to eternal life.

Just Do It!

24^th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle B

Just Do It!

There is a great controversy raging these days over the new Nike ad campaign featuring Colin Kaepernick. The tag line is “Believe in Something. Even if it Means Sacrificing Everything”. So, right now about half of you are thinking, “Uh oh, is he really going there? Will I have to write another letter to the bishop?” The other half have just completely turned me off, and a few of you are thinking, “Oh yeah, the Niners are playing this afternoon.”

Take off your political hat for a moment and consider not the controversy but the tag line. “Believe in Something, Even if it Means Sacrificing Everything .” Is that something to strive for, something to stand for? Is it noble? Is just believing in something a good reason to sacrifice everything? You can believe in anything; that doesn’t mean it is noble or good. Hitler believed that Jews were subhuman and deserved extermination. And he “Just Did It”. Is that right? I might believe that I am the reincarnation of Napoleon, and I could sacrifice everything by proclaiming that to the world, but is that rational?

For Christians, how should it read? For us, does believing in Jesus mean that we risk losing everything? Does deep belief always include sacrifice? Is that what Jesus asks of us in today’s gospel?

It makes a difference what we believe in because that drives our view of the world, our behavior, and our actions. But what is worth sacrificing everything for? Is it Jesus? Why? What is it about Jesus that would make you deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow his footsteps? Why would or should you open yourself up to ridicule, deny yourself worldly goods and comforts and maybe even your livelihood, and proclaim yourself a disciple?

Who do you say that Jesus is? That is the key to everything, isn’t it? If you believe he is a great prophet who taught some wonderful things, and was sort of a super social worker, then why would you sacrifice everything to follow him? That is not particularly unique. Even if you believe he is the greatest, most influential man that ever walked the earth, why would you sacrifice everything to follow him? But if we believe that Jesus of Nazareth is who he says he is, if we believe he is God incarnate come to earth to bring us to heaven, then what sacrifice is too great to make to be with him?

Jesus says today that in order to be his followers we must deny ourselves, take up our crosses, and follow him. Jesus suffered, and his way of the cross was brutal and painful. But I don’t think Jesus said that we all have to go out of our way to find that path or endure such suffering. I think he was saying that if we truly do become his disciples suffering will follow in some way or other, just because his message and the life of a disciple are threatening to the way of the world.

Christianity pushes society, and society pushes back. For some it will be physical suffering, for others social ostracization or loss of position and goods. Some will die. For some it will be the painful realization that we truly are not in control and must therefore submit our will to something greater. Change itself can often be a cross to bear.

We sacrifice ourselves when we deny ourselves, but we do not sacrifice everything because of what we believe. We never give up what is truly real and important. Instead, we actually gain everything. We deny our very selves, subjugating our own wills to that of God, so that we can gain the ultimate prize – eternal life.

This passage from James has caused great division in the Church since the Protestant Reformation. It was the great question that Martin Luther raised. How are we saved? Is it through faith alone or through works? Luther was pushing back against the belief that we can earn our way to heaven by doing things. If only we pray the right way, worship the right way, do the right penances and righteous acts, we could win heaven.

Luther was right, salvation is not a game show. It is not a sporting event. There are no winners or losers, just recipients of the grace of God. We can never earn our way to heaven. We can never make ourselves worthy of salvation. Only God can make us worthy. That is the gift of grace. But Luther went a bit too far in believing that grace is all that is necessary. Jesus does not say that we will be judged by the level of our faith but by how we have fed the hungry, clothed the naked, visited the sick and those in prison. We will be judged for what we have done with the faith we have been given. As St. James says today, faith without works is dead.

We are all given faith to some degree or other, and faith can be increased if we desire and pray for it. We can also abandon it. I don’t think we lose our faith like we lose our car keys, and it can’t be taken away from us against our will. We can decide to believe or not because God has given us free will. But ultimately, we would not even have the ability to know God exists, to believe in Him, unless he gives us that ability. We are all given the gift of faith, how we act out that gift is called religion. You cannot have one without the other. You really can’t be spiritual but not religious. Once you believe you have to “Just Do It”.

Faith must go with works, and vice versa. Even if someone fails to act, there is still a belief behind that lack of action. If I fail to act it is because I do not believe there is a strong enough motivation for me to act. Believing that Jesus is the Christ is the starting point, but in order to follow him truly we must be like him, and he was a man of action.

Jesus didn’t just preach and teach, he fed the hungry, healed the sick, took care of the physical needs of people as well as the spiritual. His actions backed up his preaching. He didn’t just sympathize with people, he did something to positively affect their lives. I think we can all spot a phony a mile away, and if all we ever hear is the same old tired rhetoric and sermonizing without seeing any concrete action being taken, we lose faith in that person. How many times do we just want to shout “Enough talk, just do it! Enough talking about empathy and love and healing, why don’t you just do something about it?”

The great commandment is to love God with you whole heart, mind and soul, and your neighbor as yourself. You cannot separate the two. You cannot love your neighbor without loving God, because God is love. And you cannot love God without loving your neighbor, because again, God is love. If you have faith in God you have faith in love. And if you believe that love exists, that it is real and concrete and not just a concept, then you also believe in God, whether or not you name him. Because God is love.

Love by its very nature is an action. Love is compelled to go beyond itself to others, or it’s not love. Love is the creative force that drives all human endeavor. I love my job so I want to go to work. I love my family so I will sacrifice everything for their wellbeing. And love is never evil. It is never directed to harming anyone or anything. So, for we Christians, we sacrifice everything for a belief in the ultimate good – love – God. That is something worth believing in and something worth sacrificing everything for. Not because it is a heavy cross to bear, even though at times it may be. But because of what the way of the cross ultimately leads to. Not glory on a sporting field but eternal glory in heaven.

The way of the cross is like that. Not only do we help others along the way, we help each other. In all the gospels but John’s, Jesus did not carry the cross himself; he had the help of someone else, a complete stranger who was not even one of his disciples. Simon of Cerene did not believe, and yet he took up Jesus’ cross and helped him to Calvary. He did not have faith, but he had works. Which was the more necessary in that situation? And did he come to faith later on because of his works? I would assume that he did.

You know, ad campaigns are not supposed to be profound or complicated. They are supposed to sell something. Religion, however, is profound and complicated. And it is supposed to help guide us and focus us on what is really worth believing in and sacrificing for. An athlete does not just get up one day and decide to run a race or play a game. He or she spends countless hours beforehand training, preparing themselves mentally, eating right, practicing their faith I guess you could say.

Religion is our way of training, preparing ourselves mentally and spiritually for our event, our way of the cross. So that if and when we are called to the cross we are ready for it. Not to go the way alone, but with other disciples, all lifting each other up from the dust and carrying each other over the goal line.

Will You Also Leave - Recording

Will You Also Leave?

20^th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle B

This has been a tough week to be a Catholic.

But then, being Catholic is usually a challenge, isn’t it? The scab of sexual abuse and the failure of leadership in the church has been ripped off once again, and I think most of us don’t really know what to do or how to react. We are embarrassed, outraged, saddened, frustrated, outraged, hurt, outraged, and betrayed. Some have circled the wagons and tried to defend the indefensible. Many have used it as an opportunity to attack this group or that. And, just like 16 years ago, I think many will leave the church because of it, and that’s saddest of all.

Coincidentally, last week the Pew Research Center published the results of a study they undertook of Catholics, and members of other Christian denominations, who no longer attend religious services. Among Catholic respondents who rarely attend Mass, 47 percent said they practice their faith in other ways. Under 20 percent said they rarely attended because they haven’t found a church they like, they don’t like the sermons, or they don’t feel welcome. Similarly, under 20 percent said they lacked time, had poor health or problems with mobility, or lacked a church in their area.

About 12 percent of self-described Catholics who rarely attend Mass said they didn’t attend because they aren’t believers. I think that number would be larger if they re-took the survey now. For many without a firm foundation of understanding and belief in the Church, this scandal will probably be the last straw.

Catholic churchgoers were somewhat more likely than other Christian churchgoers to say it was important to attend church to continue the family’s religious traditions; to please family, a spouse or partner; or to fulfill a religious obligation. They were less likely than other Christian churchgoers to attend to become closer to God, to become a better person, to find comfort in times of sorrow, or to be a part of a community of faith.

I find it striking that nowhere is a belief in the real presence of Christ in the eucharist even mentioned. Maybe that’s why they no longer attend. All those reasons listed for no longer attending or even believing are really just symptoms of a total misunderstanding of what being Catholic is really all about. They are really very self-centered reasons that focus on superficial things, me-centered things. There is no sense of gratitude or even understanding of the gift.

Let’s take just one of these findings, the largest percentage, almost half, that say that they practice their faith in other ways. They claim to be Catholic, and believe in God, but don’t come to Mass. For a Catholic, how can that be if we are to believe Jesus in today’s gospel? How can there be any other way to practice your faith than the eucharist? To us, the eucharist is not something we do, it is who we are. You cannot find that anywhere else but here, in the Mass. People who try to fill their souls in other ways will never be satisfied. It isn’t about tradition, or the sermon, or an obligation, or even finding a convenient Mass time. It’s about Jesus Christ giving himself to us in the most intimate way possible.

They don’t understand the gift.

We hear the remarkable declaration of Jesus today that unless we eat his body and drink his blood, we will have no life within us. Next week we will read that when he said this, all but the twelve left him. Each and every one of his disciples, except for his closest friends, left him. Each and every person who had been hoping that Jesus was the promised messiah, left him. Each and every person who he had miraculously fed with the loaves and fishes, left him. Each and every person who had just before wanted to declare him king, left him.

Do you also want to leave?

This reading is one of the main reasons I am Catholic. It is the main reason I remain Catholic. No matter what happens in the world, in the church, and in my life, it is this declaration of Jesus that keeps me here. Because I desire life. I crave life. Not just life here on earth but eternal life.

Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood
has eternal life,
and I will raise him on the last day. 

Isn’t that what it’s all about? Life is one. My life and yours had a beginning, but will have no end. It is all the same. And I want to have it. I want life in its fullest. I want the gift. I am grateful for the gift.

The word eucharist literally means thanksgiving. St. Paul says today to give thanks always and for everything in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ to God the Father. And that is what the Mass is. The Mass is gratitude for the gift. Have you ever been so full of joy about something, so full of the knowledge that something was good and positive and true that you felt it filling your heart? Have you ever wanted someone to feel what you feel and know what you know so badly that it physically hurt? And when the other person couldn’t understand it or feel it like you did you wanted to just grab them by the shoulders and shake them? “Don’t you see it? Can’t you see how important this is? Can’t you see how important this is to you, to me, to all of us? How can you not see it, how can you not feel what I feel? What can I do to help you understand?”

I feel that way oftentimes during Mass, and not because of the people I see here on Sunday. It is because of those who are not here. As western civilization rushes to secularization, our Masses are not as well attended, our churches are closing, and people who once were believers are leaving in record numbers, moving from belief to unbelief in anything. And it saddens me deeply. People are leaving Jesus now just as they left him then. Jesus was saddened by their lack of understanding, but he let them go. He didn’t call after them, “Wait, I didn’t mean it literally. I meant it was just a symbol!” No, he doubled down. “For my flesh is real food and my blood real drink”.

He wasn’t speaking symbolically, he wasn’t using hyperpole, it wasn’t a metaphor, a euphamism, sarcasm, irony, exaggeration, a simile, alliteration, or even a haiku. What is was is crazy. It was plainly spoken and plainly intended. “Eat my body and drink my blood. Do this in remembrance of me.” It is both an invitation and a command. How can this be? This is hard to understand and even harder to take. Who does he think he is?

I don’t understand it and never will. I will never be able to wrap my brain about how it happens. I just know why it happens. For life within me. And that’s enough for me. I trust Jesus. I trust he is who he says he is. I trust that he has given me the church, made up of imperfect people, to guide me along the way. All we are are beggars helping each other to find bread.

The world is starving, humanity is starving, and yet we refuse to eat. There is a great banquet laid out before us, a spiritual feast that will fulfill all hunger and desire, and we refuse to eat. Why do we not recognize nor understand the gift?

Why do you come here? Do you come every Sunday or just when it’s convenient? Do you look forward to coming? Do you participate fully and actively? Not because you are supposed to but because you feel compelled to by the love within your heart? Why are you here? Is it out of a sense of obligation, or is it out of love for the gift? Will you also leave? Where else would you go? Where else can you hear the words of everlasting life? Where else would you receive the gift?

And what do you do with the gift you have received? Do you leave here on Sunday so full of joy that you feel compelled to tell everyone you see what you have experienced? And when they fail to understand, do you want to just grab them by the shoulders and shake them? Do you invite them to join you here? I don’t mean strangers on the street or your friends. What about your children? Your spouse? Why not start by offering the greatest gift possible to those you love the most?

I hope and pray that sometime in your life you feel like that. I hope and pray that you become so filled with the spirit that you just cannot keep it within you.

No matter how the people in the church fail, I will remain. No matter how much I fail, I will remain. Because I want life. Because I understand the gift. Because I understand that I will never be worthy of the gift. Because when all others fail me, when I fail, I know my lord will remain faithful to me. He has not left us orphan. His Spirit still fills the world. In him we live and move and have our being.

Where else will we go? Where else can we go?

I love to see people in procession coming up to receive communion. James Joyce wrote in Finnigan’s Wake, “Catholic means, here comes everybody!” I love to see your faces. Some are stoic, some prayerful or pius, some have eyes alive and others their eyes seem dead. Some come with heads bowed, some with eyes averted. Some seem nonchalant, confused, or bored. I don’t know how many times they come with tears in their eyes and I wonder at what pain, or joy, they are experiencing in their lives at that moment. Some look me right in the eye with a twinkle there. And every once in a while I will see a face of pure joy.

I especially like the small children who come up, clutching their parent’s hand. They look up at me and at mom or dad with a look of wonderment. What is that? It must be really good if mommy’s having some. Can I have some? And sometimes they make a grab for it.

Is that how you feel when you come up to receive communion? Like that little child? What is that? Can I have some? Why can’t I have some? Is there joy in your heart, put there by the knowledge and understanding and acceptance of the gift? That kind of joy cannot be found anywhere else but here. The joy of the eucharist is the deepest sense of gratitude that will persevere throughout all the pain and failures and suffering and betrayals. It is the joy of Jesus, who persevered through all the pain and failures and suffering and betrayals. If he himself was not spared those things, why should we?

Jesus told his friends at the Last Supper, “I have so longed to celebrate this meal with you.” He so longed to offer his body and blood for their redemption. He longed to suffer and die for them. He longs to celebrate his meal with you now, just as he longed to suffer and die for you. Twice in the bread of life discourse Jesus says that no one can come to the Him unless the Father has drawn them to Him. He has called you to Him just as you are. He has called you to become one with Him in the eucharist.

It is the eucharist that will save the church. It is the eucharist that will save humanity. Because it is the bread of life. Because it is Jesus Christ himself, died and risen, physically present before us, physically present within us. We become what we eat. We become Jesus himself, physically present to the world. You receive the gift and become the gift. You receive life and you become life.

Do you recognize that? Do you understand that? Do you realize the awesome responsibility that gives you, to take that gift of life out into the world?

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13^th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle B

You’ve all seen the pro life bumper sticker that proclaims, “Choose Life”. I don’t think one that reads “Choose Death” would sell very well. But is life a choice? Can and do we choose to live? And who really wants to choose to die? Doesn’t life just happen to you? I didn’t consciously ask to be created. Neither did you. And if I had a choice I wouldn’t want to die. I’d want to live forever. And all that pain in the world. Who would choose that? Does pain just happen? If I really had a choice I’d choose to have no pain in my life, wouldn’t you?

The first reading today is tremendously important, addressing some of our deepest questions: “Why do Death and suffering exist?” and “Did God make death?”  The Book of Wisdom says that God did not create death, and He is not happy about it.  All that He created was meant to be wholesome, not destructive. In the Book of Genesis, when God created the world, at the end of each day he looked at what he had created and saw that it was good. Until the sixth day, after he created man and woman, and he looked and saw that it was very good.

God cannot create evil. God is love, and true love cannot be evil, it is always good. Therefore it is not in God’s nature to do or create anything less than good. Evil must come from somewhere else.

Why then do death and suffering exist?  Well, there are two very wrong yet opposite opinions that people hold regarding death, pain and suffering.  The first is sort of like, “Stuff happens.” There is a fatalistic idea that we are the victim of forces beyond our control.  The ancients believed that we have no control over our lives and so have no responsibility for our destiny.  “It’s all in the stars,” they would say, or it’s all up to the will of the gods. And some religions believe in Karma or Joss, or the will of Allah. Fate or luck. That’s not what we believe. The Book of Wisdom tells us that we do have control over our destiny:  if we follow God we will be raised up by Him.  If we turn from Him, we turn to death.

The opposite and perhaps more widespread wrong opinion on why death exists is that somehow God wills it.  A wife, husband or child dies.  Well meaning people and even clergy will say, "It was God's will." This is blatantly wrong.  God does not will death.  We've got to get the concept, "It was God's will" out of our vocabulary when dealing with death.  Remember the Book of Wisdom, "God did not make death and does not delight in the death of the living."

Why, then, does death exist?  Death is not caused by God’s will but by ours. Death exists because we choose to place our will before God’s. Death exists because we can choose good. The ability to choose good means that we can also choose not to do good, and that's sin.  We are ultimately responsible for our own actions, and those actions have consequences. St. Paul says that the wages of sin is death. The ability to choose life means that we can reject life.  That's death.  Evil does not exist for the creatures who do not have the ability to choose it.  Neither does good.

Perhaps you may be saying to yourself, "Then wouldn’t we be better if we couldn't choose at all."  Would we?  Do you really wish you were a robot? Or a slave? Do you realize that if you could not choose you could not give and receive love?  After all, real love is a matter of a choice.  If people truly love each other they choose each other over others.  In fact, they even choose each other over their individual selves. 

The ability to choose results in the ability to love and be loved. It also results in the ability to hate and be hated.  God did not create hatred, but He gave us free will which means we have the ability to hate.  He created life and gave us the ability to choose life and receive life.  That also means that we have the ability to choose death and to be victimized by the choices that others make.  Still, it is better to love and suffer hatred then to be incapable of ever experiencing love.  And it is better to suffer the effects of death than never to live.

So then, how do we understand death?  Death is due to the decision for evil we all suffer from.  To fight death we have to choose life.  At the same time, we recognize that ultimately we will all die, but if we have worked for what is good and right, our death will only be physical.  We shall live forever with God.

Death doesn't just happen.  Nor is it God's will.  It is the effect of evil in the world brought about by the ability to choose.  God does not want anyone to die, but He does want us to be able to choose life, and to be able to choose love, even if this means that we can also choose hatred and death. And remember, God took the very thing that keeps us from him – death – and turned it to be the thing that brings us to eternal life. Jesus’ chose his own death to bring us life forever with him.

It is no coincidence that Jesus was a healer. He knew the reality of suffering and death caused by human sinfulness, so he chose to alleviate it whenever possible. Sometimes healing came about because of the sick person’s own faith, as with the woman with the hemorrhage. Sometimes it was due to the intercession of someone else, like with Jairus’ daughter. Other times it was for the glory of God, as with the raising of Lazarus. But every time Jesus healed out of compassion. He chose to use the person’s suffering for something good. Jesus always chose life over death.

It’s a bit more complicated than a bumper sticker, but then, most important things are. But I find that phrase, “Choose Life” to be very comforting, because it gives me hope that no matter what the world throws my way, I still have a choice. Life is mine to embrace or mine to throw away.

As Mother Teresa once said,

Life is an opportunity, benefit from it.

Life is beauty, admire it.

Life is bliss, taste it.

Life is a dream, realize it.

Life is a challenge, meet it.

Life is a duty, complete it.

Life is a game, play it.

Life is a promise, fulfill it.

Life is sorrow, overcome it.

Life is a song, sing it.

Life is a struggle, accept it.

Life is a tragedy, confront it.

Life is an adventure, dare it.

Life is luck, make it.

Life is too precious, do not destroy it.

Life is life, fight for it.

A Walk in the Clouds

5^th Sunday of Easter

Cycle A

There was a movie that came out in 1995 called “A Walk in the Clouds”, about a married soldier returning from World War II who poses as a pregnant woman's husband to save her from her father's anger and honor. Her family had come from Mexico several generations before and owned a vineyard and winery outside of Sacramento, California. Her father was very strict and stern, and his family’s heritage and honor was the center of his life.

He took special pride in an ancient vine root that his ancestors had brought from Spain to Mexico and subsequently to California. That root was the grandfather of all the vines in the vineyard, and from it came the special character of the grapes. When a fire broke out in the vineyard that destroyed all the vines, the root survived and from it the family was able to take a pruning that they used to seed the revival of the vineyard.

That ancient vine root was the foundation on which every branch in the vineyard depended. Without it there would be no other vines, and without it the vineyard would bear no fruit. It was more than just a vine, it was the foundation and lifeblood of the family itself. As long as it endured the family would endure and flourish.

Jesus used many metaphors to describe his relationship with his disciples. In last week’s gospel he called himself the Good Shepherd. Today we hear Jesus claim to be the root vine.  In all of them there is a theme of dependency and unity. We are the sheep that follow our shepherd, and there is one flock. We are the branches that are part of the vine, each distinct yet dependent on the vine for survival and bearing fruit.

A vineyard owner has no use for vines that do not bear fruit. The whole reason for a vine’s existence is to provide grapes. The vineyard owner takes great care to provide the vines everything they will need to thrive and prosper, so that they can give him what he needs. The Father is the vineyard owner, Jesus is the vine, and we are the branches. The Father sets up the vineyard so that it can bear fruit. He plants the vine and takes care of it. The vine provides the structure and foundation on which the branches can flourish. The branches cannot survive on their own. They must be attached to the vine. But it is not on the vine that the fruit grows, it is on the branches. The plant seems to be one, but each part has its role to play.

Just as a vine cannot survive without being connected to the earth, to water and to sunlight, so the vine of the church cannot survive without being connected to Christ. The church cannot be fruitful apart from Christ, and we cannot truly be fruitful apart from the church.

St. John tells us today, “Let us love not in word or speech, but in deed and truth.” The whole idea of bearing fruit means we actually have to do something. Words are useless unless they inspire us to act. We heard today that the early church did not trust that Saul of Tarsus had had a change of heart and become a disciple until they saw his actions. Words were not enough. They had to see results. And Saul on his own did not bear fruit, in fact, he was destructive to the church. It was only when Saul was part of the vine did he do great things.

The second part of John’s admonition is truth. We can only bear fruit through deeds done in truth. It is possible to do good deeds while professing no faith, but every good act is always done through Jesus, whether we acknowledge it or not. Jesus says today that apart from him we can do nothing. Think about that for a minute. Apart from Jesus you can do nothing. Nothing at all. As St. Paul says, “In him we live and move and have our being.” That is the truth we believe in and profess.

Every spring we find that something in our yard has not survived the winter. Branches in the trees have died, the grass is spotty in places, bushes have been crushed by the snow. And so we have to go along and cut out the deadwood, aerated the lawn, and rake out the flowerbeds. If we don’t, then not only will the dead things be an eyesore, they will actually hinder the healthy plants from growing strong.

Jesus talks about the necessity of pruning the vine of those branches that do not bear fruit. The image of pruning can seem a bit harsh, almost a violent act, with Jesus cutting off those branches that don’t measure up. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of mercy there. But Jesus doesn’t cut off the entire branch - the person - only those parts of the person that do not bear fruit. We all have parts of our souls that have died or withered up. Every time we sin a bit of ourselves dies. Every sin is a wound and leaves a scar. And if we do not remove the vestiges of that sin, unless we are healed through reconciliation to God through Jesus, it’s as if that dead branch clings to us as a dead weight.

I believe there is a deep need in all people to connect with the spiritual, to be attached to the vine. Everyone, consciously or unconsciously, seeks fulfilment and meaning in their lives. Everyone is searching for their creator in some way or another. For those who do not have God or seek God, they will create their own, and most times that God is themselves. They prune themselves from the vine and think they can still have life. But that is self-deception, because it is working against everything they were created to be. God created every human being to be a part of him, to be an extension of him, and to be his face in the world.

Pruning is a painful but a healthy thing. We prune the deadwood of our lives, hearts and souls so that what is left can grow stronger and thrive. The church also prunes out unhealthy practices, thoughts, and ideas so that the truth, the things that make the church the vine of Christ, can continue to thrive and bear fruit. The church does not cut off people, it just removes the barnacles so that the people can enjoy the fruit of salvation.

So in a way pruning is a great act of God’s mercy. God is constantly renewing us and is constantly renewing the church, so that we can be rid of anything that will keep us from living as he intends us to. Like a grapevine, we are rooted firmly in the soil of the gospel, and we draw our sustenance from God himself. Like a vine, we are all interconnected and unified, yet maintain our own particular character and fruit.

I think it is interesting that Jesus chose the image of a vine rather than a mighty tree. A tree might be more imposing and stronger than a vine, but a tree has deep roots that fix it in place. A tree grows vertically, a vine spreads out in all directions, always reaching out with new branches that extend indefinitely yet are ultimately connected to one another and to the vine. Even the mightiest tree can be blown down in a strong gale, and once it falls it dies. A vine is much more resilient, and, like in “A Walk in the Clouds”, even fire cannot destroy it, as long as it is rooted in ancient stock.  

The ultimate fruitfulness of our discipleship is to bring others to salvation in Jesus Christ. That is the ultimate truth because Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life. He said that no one comes to the Father but through him. We are called to work and bear fruit so that the vine will flourish and grow, filling all the earth.

Stewardship

Feast of the Ascension

Cycle B

There is always some confusion, and sometimes controversy, around the date that we celebrate the Feast of the Ascension every year. In our province we celebrate it on the Sunday following the Thursday that falls 40 days after Easter. I don’t get too hung up on these things, I’m sure God will work it all out. But this year I think it’s serendipitous that it falls today, on Mother’s Day, because the Ascension is all about stewardship, and what better stewards are there than mothers?

It seems that a mother’s work is never done. There are countless things to do and people to take care of. Moms don’t get sick days. Moms these days are juggling so many things, and yet, they don’t seem to complain very much. At least that’s my experience. I don’t remember my mom ever feeling sorry for herself or wishing that she weren’t a mom. It may have been different for my mom because she had adopted me, and so maybe she was just grateful that she was even able to be a mom at all.

But one thing I think all moms…and dads…have in common is a natural instinct and desire to nurture and protect our children. It’s really amazing that the first time you lay eyes on your child when it is born, you instantly feel the strongest bond to another human being you ever have. You just met this little person, and you feel you would die to protect her. God has instilled in every parent a fierce desire to protect their children, and parents don’t think twice about making every kind of sacrifice for the sake of their children. Not out of some sense of duty but because of love. An intense love that often seems irrational and yet so natural.

We naturally support what we love. Mothers know this love so well.

We Christians see our roles as mothers and fathers as being our vocations, what we are called to do by Christ. We see our stewardship of the gift of our children as a holy task, our main purpose in life. I often tell parents who are preparing to have their children baptized that their main purpose in life is to help get their children, and each other, to heaven. We did not create our children on our own, but with God’s direct intervention, and so we see them as gifts, not possessions. We have been given them by God to do something with, to grow and nurture and prepare, so that they can also live as disciples of Christ.

The love of a mother is the same love we as church are called to show to the world. We call her Mother Church for a reason. Jesus not only told his disciples that he would not leave them orphans, he entrusted the fate of the entire world to them. They were not to keep their faith to themselves, they were to spread the good news to all the earth. Just as a mother sees her children as gifts not possessions, so too must the disciples of Christ treat all of creation. Just as a mother is fierce in the love she shows her children, just as she will make any sacrifice for their benefit, so must we the Church show love and make sacrifices for all humanity.

I have often contemplated the role of the church in my life and in the great plan of creation. I believe that Jesus gave his church a seemingly impossible task – to bring the entire world to salvation. And there are so many facets to that task, physical, spiritual, intellectual, emotional, that can seem so overwhelming. But it really all comes down to what St. Paul tells us today:

I urge you to live in a manner worthy of the calling
you have received,
with all humility and gentleness, with patience,
bearing with one another through love,
striving to preserve the unity of the Spirit
through the bond of peace:
one body and one Spirit,
as you were also called to the one hope of your calling;
one Lord, one faith, one baptism;
one God and Father of all,
who is over all and through all and in all.

To me that describes the family. All of us were born into a family, and it is in the family unit that we first experience love. The family is all about unity. The family is all about hope. The family is all about bearing with one another through love. The love of the family unit extends beyond to the Church, and from the Church to the world. We as Christians see all humanity as our family, to be nurtured and grown and loved and protected. We do not see ourselves as isolated but as interconnected. And the same stewardship we have for our families extends to our parishes, our dioceses, our nations, and to the world.

Jesus said to go and make disciples of all the nations, but he didn’t say how to do it. He himself never ventured more than 100 miles from Nazareth. He started with his own family, then built a small community of disciples. It is no coincidence that the first thing Jesus did when he started his earthly ministry was to surround himself with friends. He said his mother and brothers were not just blood kin but those who believed in the good news.

That small community grew into the Church today. And we are all his brothers and sisters because we have heard the good news and have believed.

That is true stewardship. Seeing your family and friends, your parish and your community, your nation and everyone in the world as worthy of your support, your nurturing, and your protection. We understand that stewardship is not something we do, it is who we are. You see, the Father gave us to Jesus to steward. He taught the disciples and prayed for them and healed them and fed them. In the end, He prayed to the Father, “When I was with them I kept them safe and watched over them in your name that you have given me.” He also feeds us spiritually and physically in the Eucharist. And his church continues to teach and pray and heal and feed the entire world.

We are our brother’s keeper. We are called to imitate Jesus in giving of our time, talent, treasure and testimony. The most important thing about stewardship is not what we do but that we do. God give us what we need to steward one another. Paul says today,

But grace was given to each of us
according to the measure of Christ's gift. 

Sometimes we are called to give the gift of our presence, other times of our abilities, still other times of our pocketbooks. And we are always to do so in the knowledge of and desire to spread the good news.

Many of the things a mother does are instinctive and some are mundane, but the most valuable gifts they give us are those given by choice. Mothers choose to be present to us. Mothers choose to go without for our sakes. Mothers choose to love. Mothers choose to give us hope in this life and for the next.

What a wonderful image and model for the Christian life. Take some time today to thank your mother, here or in heaven, for how she has prepared you for life. And take a moment to contemplate how you can best choose to share that same type of stewardship with the world.

Destiny

Tattoo

6^th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle B

Lv 13:1-2,44-46

1 Cor 10:31-11:1

Mk 1:40-45

Imagine for a moment that you wake up tomorrow, lift yourself out of bed, and trudge into the bathroom to brush your teeth. You peer bleary eyed into the mirror and see something truly horrible. Overnight, in bold colors, the name of a sin you had committed the day before had appeared written on your forearm, sort of like a tattoo. No amount of soap and water or hard scrubbing would remove it. Horrified, you put on a long-sleeved shirt to cover it up.

But that’s not the worst of it. Every day afterwards, when you wake up another sin you had committed appears tattooed somewhere else on your body. The little sins are little tattoos and the big ones are big tattoos. Some are in inconspicuous places that are easy to cover up, but one morning after a particularly fun night out, a large red tattoo appears right in the middle of your forehead. And this sin is a doozy, a particularly embarrassing one. There’s no easy way to cover that one up, so you decide to stay inside until you can figure out just what’s going on.

Each day your sins are always before you. You can’t escape them and the guilt you feel. They are constant reminders of your failures. You are desperate to wash them away, to remove them from your sight. And finally, you have to leave the house. You have to go out into the world, and now everyone can see your sin. It has physically altered you and you no longer look like other people. Just like Hester Prynne in the Scarlet Letter, you are shunned and mocked by everyone you meet. You will do anything, anything at all, to be rid of them. You vow that if they are removed you will never sin again. Ever.

What if your sin was as visible to you as leprosy? What if your sin was always before you? How would it make you feel? To what lengths would you go to remove it?

What if your sin was as visible to the world as leprosy? What if everyone you meet knows exactly how you have sinned? How would they treat you? How would it make you feel? To what lengths would you go to remove it?

We hear today Moses’ prescription for the treatment of lepers, and it seems pretty harsh. 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. Sin was just as contagious as leprosy, so sinners were shunned and ostracized. To touch the unclean made you unclean. To consort with sinners made you a sinner.

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. They would lose everything and live in desperation.

The only way the leper, the sinner, could return to the community was to prove that the ailment no longer existed. If the outward signs of the illness were gone, that indicated that the inner sinfulness was gone, too. That is why the healed had to show themselves to the priests. The priests were the representatives of the faith community. They had to verify that the person had turned from their sin and could then be reconciled to the community.

The leper didn’t come to Jesus because he believed he was the son of God. He had just heard that Jesus was a powerful healer, and believed that he could be healed himself. He would do anything, try anything, to remove the stain and the pain of his disease. He also believed, like everyone else did, that he was suffering physically because he was a sinner. 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. Forgive 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. He forgave him his sins. And he made him feel that he was free from the effects of his sin. It’s as if all had been wiped clean.

We are the same. All we need to be cleansed of our sin is to turn to Jesus and believe that we can be forgiven. For some that is really hard to believe. Sin makes us feel dirty, cut off from those we love, unworthy. We have to believe that there is hope. I think that today most people do not have a sense of sin. They have moved away from God and so have lost hope in forgiveness. They feel those feelings of being unworthy but do not know the reason why. They cannot name their sin and therefore cannot hope to be cured of it. It would almost be better if we could see our sins pasted right between our eyes.

We can also turn to Jesus and be healed. It was no coincidence that Jesus tells the man to show himself to the priest. He calls us to do the same so the priest can declare us clean.

The man could not contain his joy at being healed. He went and told everyone he could about what had happened to him. Whereas before he cowered before others, now he stood tall. What if we felt that same way when our sins are forgiven? What if we left the confessional and went out and proclaimed to everyone that our sins have been forgiven and we are now clean. What if instead of a big red tattoo on our foreheads there was a shining light surrounding our faces, a glow of deep joy that everyone could see? How would that make you feel? How would that affect the people around you?

The season of Lent is upon us. What better time to be healed? Why not take a good, close look at yourself in the mirror every evening and take stock of how you had lived that day? See all the blemishes for what they are, even the ones that are hard to find? Why not sit down with those closest to you, the ones who can also see your sins as if they were tattooed on your forehead, and ask for forgiveness and reconciliation? Why not go see Jesus, throw yourself down before him in the confessional and say, “If you will to do so, you can make me clean”.

I assure you, he wills to do so. And I guarantee you, your joy will be great and your joy will be contagious.