2nd Sunday of Easter
Cycle C
Acts 5: 12-16
Rev 1:9-11a, 12-13, 17-19
Jn 20:19-31
Faith is such a fragile thing.
Thomas and all the apostles were suffering greatly. They had just witnessed the torture and death of someone they loved deeply. They had pinned all their hopes and dreams on Jesus’ promise, and now he was gone. That promise would not be fulfilled.
Thomas was not unique because he wanted hard evidence before he would believe. All of the gospel accounts of the resurrection say that the apostles did not believe that Jesus had risen from the dead, even though they had seen the empty tomb, seen the angels announcing that he had risen, and heard the witness of Mary Magdalene and the other women that they had actually seen and touched the risen Lord. None of the men believed. So, what was so different about Thomas?
Thomas believed deeply in Jesus. In John’s gospel, just prior to Jesus entering into Jerusalem that last time, Thomas said to his fellow apostles, “Let us go with him, to die with him, if necessary.” Like Simon Peter, Thomas’ faith in Jesus was so strong that he declared he would lay down his life for him. I can imagine all the apostles boasting the same thing at one time or another.
And, like Simon Peter, and like all the other apostles who supposedly had such a strong faith in Jesus, he denied him. All the apostles denied Jesus. They all ran away. Peter just denied Jesus publicly, and dramatically, but they all denied they knew him when they abandoned him. All that big talk about laying down their lives for Jesus was just that; talk. When it came down to their own personal safety they took to their heels. And they were still hiding days later when the women, who were the only ones with the courage to go outside, gave witness to the resurrection.
But wait a minute. There was someone else who had gone outside. Thomas. Where had he gone? Why wasn’t he with the others groveling behind locked doors?
Perhaps he had to get away from them, who most likely were arguing amongst themselves, as usual. Maybe he wanted to go to the tomb to see for himself the destruction of all his dreams. Maybe he was ashamed that he hadn’t had the guts to stand up with Jesus and defend him. Maybe he was running away and came back out of shame.
And he didn’t want to simply see Jesus, he didn’t want to embrace him and hold him. Just seeing his wounds wasn’t enough. Thomas wanted to actually put his hand into his wounds. He didn’t want to see a man. He wanted to see what that man had done for him. It was the wounds, the wounds that counted. On Friday Thomas saw Jesus as a holy man. On Sunday he acknowledged him as the Son of God. Because of the wounds. Thomas wanted to actually enter into Jesus’ suffering. Because he himself was suffering.
Maybe what Thomas doubted was himself.
He wouldn’t be fooled again. Jesus had let him down. He hadn’t called forth armies to overthrow the Romans. He hadn’t come down from that cross and shown them all who he had claimed to be. He hadn’t even defended himself. No, he wouldn’t fall for it again; he had to have solid proof.
But when he did have that proof, when he actually did see the risen Lord, he was the first to worship him as God. “My Lord and my God.” Entering into the wounds of Christ had given him a clarity the other apostles didn’t experience.
Thomas’ story is a lot like ours. We believe we are disciples of Christ, and have been following him for a long time. We sometimes are boastful in our faith. We have all the answers. We go to church on Sunday and we pray…occasionally. And when we read about persecutions of Christians in other parts of the country and the world, we think, “I wouldn’t run away and deny that I’m a Christian if it were me.” But when confronted by a co-worker who tells you that your Catholic faith is false you mumble something and walk away. When the church leaders that we have put so much faith in prove to be a disappointment; we go into hiding. When they are attacked unfairly we don’t rise to their defense. Even worse, we join in the melee. And when our faith in Jesus is inconvenient, or politically incorrect, or infringes too much on our own selfish lifestyles, we fade away into the darkness.
Like Thomas, maybe we doubt ourselves.
We read and pray that we should put all our trust in the Lord, that God wants the best for us, always. We shouldn’t worry about what to eat or what to wear, but then we’re still unemployed after a year. We have lost our home and our self-respect. Our dreams are fading away, and we feel betrayed. Or we hear Jesus say, “Let the little children come to me.” And then we read of the senseless murder of little innocents, or worse yet, we suffer the loss of one of our own children, and all those nice paintings we’ve seen of Jesus with little ones on his lap seem like a lie.
So, like the apostles, we run away and put up walls of skepticism to Jesus. It isn’t supposed to happen this way, so the promises can’t be true. We have to get out of the upper room and clear our heads. All that bold talk about faith seems to be just that when it’s tested so severely. We want proof that our suffering has a purpose. We’ll believe in Jesus when we can actually touch his wounds. We want to enter into Jesus’ suffering to make sense of our own.
And once we do, like Thomas we feel all the pain and bitterness and our own denial fall away and we can clearly declare, “My Lord and my God.” What little faith we have is enough. It will always be enough, because it will never be enough. We can’t do it on our own. We need to touch the risen Lord and see what he has done for us. We need to draw strength from his wounds. The wounds he endured for us. For you.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Faithfully Yours
6th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Cycle C
Jer 17:5-8
1 Cor 15: 12, 16-20
Lk 6:17, 20-26
Today we hear blessings and curses. Perfect readings for Valentine’s Day!
Wait a minute! Valentine’s Day is all about love. Warm fuzzy, gushy, slobbering, flowers and chocolates, diamonds and hearts and cupids flying about…love. Not a lot of that stuff to be found in today’s readings, so how are they all about Valentine’s Day? Because love isn’t about all those things. Love isn’t always warm and fuzzy, is it? Love isn’t about romance. Love is all about trust.
In our first reading we hear: "Cursed is the one who trusts in human beings..." And, "Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord." Jeremiah is not bringing curses and blessings down upon us. He is simply stating the truth. If you trust in human beings alone you will find curses. If you trust in God you will find blessings. Why? Well, we have to look at what trust is, first. What does it mean to trust somebody or something? When you say you trust someone, what are you assuming about them? You are assuming that they will do what they say they’ll do. You expect them not to betray you. You expect them to be faithful to you and to their promises.
Trust is all about fidelity, and fidelity is all about love, so love is all about trust.
We’re entering the wedding season here in the mountains. Just as Valentine’s Day isn’t about the candy and flowers and jewelry, a wedding isn’t about the dress or the flowers or the music or the reception. A wedding is about the vows the man and woman give to each other. And they’re really quite simple. The bride and groom simply say to each other, “I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love and honor you all the days of my life”. The symbol of marriage is the wedding ring. When the couple exchange rings, each says to the other, “Take this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” We don’t promise that we’ll give each other a big house, or fancy cars, or fine jewelry. We don’t promise that we’ll always be happy and like each other. We don’t even promise to squeeze the toothpaste tube from the end. We only promise to be faithful to each other. And we do it in the name of the triune God who is the greatest, perfect example of faithfulness.
Fidelity has no strings attached. No matter what the future brings, we pledge ourselves to be faithful. Blessed are you who are poor. Because at some time you will be poor. Even if your portfolio is great, you will be lacking something you need. Love, security, fulfillment. Blessed are you when you are hungry. Well you will be hungry sometime in your life. Hungry for food, hungry for God, hungry for companionship. Blessed are you who mourn. And you will mourn. The loss of a parent, or a spouse, or a friend, or a job, or an opportunity. Blessed are you when people hate you, or exclude you or insult or denounce you. Because if you are living your Christian commitment they will. During these times we need to be faithful to each other, but most of all, we need to know that, even though we will fail in our fidelity, our God is always faithful to us, no matter what.
I'd like to tell you about a man who had a beautiful trust in God. It is Valentine story because it's about how he found his wife. It happened back in 1920, long before on-line dating services. What the man did was place an ad in a newspaper. This is what the ad said:
"Middle-ranking civil servant, single, Catholic, 43, immaculate past, from the country, is looking for a good Catholic, pure girl who can cook well, tackle all household chores, with a talent for sewing and homemaking, with a view to marriage as soon as possible. Fortune desirable but not a precondition."
A woman named Maria Peintner answered the ad. She was 36 years old, a trained cook and the illegitimate daughter of a baker. She did not have a fortune, but even so, they married four months later. In spite of their somewhat advanced years they had three children - two boys and a girl. The youngest child received the same name as his father: Joseph Ratzinger. He is better known today as Pope Benedict XVI.
After his election, someone dug up the "wife-wanted" ad and showed it to the new pope. The pope, of course, smiled. He knew that his parents gave a beautiful testimony to married love. Pope Benedict would speak often about that love. In fact, his first encyclical is entitled, "God is Love," and it describes marriage as the pre-eminent image and example of God's love for us.
God is the model for married love, and a marriage is the perfect model for God’s love. God is relationship; Father, Son and Spirit, therefore, love cannot exist by itself. It must occur in relationship, and it cannot be fulfilled unless it is given away. Jesus himself described his love for the church as that of a bridegroom for his bride. The ancient Hebrews often spoke of God’s love in terms of romantic love. God’s love for us is that personal, that romantic, that devoted. Each time we speak to each other in words like this we are also describing God’s love for us.
If a person gets up into their mid-thirties (or forties) and they have not found that special someone, they can feel life has passed them by, maybe even that God has forgotten them. That was not the case with Joseph and Maria Ratzinger. From all we know, they were people of deep faith in God. Joseph placed that ad trusting that God would send his life partner his way. And Maria answered that ad trusting that she would not be rejected because of her background and circumstances. Because of their trust in God, they had an admirable marriage and deeply united family.
The important point here is trust in the Lord. In a few days we are going to begin a holy season that emphasizes trust in the Lord. The Church encourages us to sacrifice some of things that are most important to us: food, time and money. We sacrifice food by some form of voluntary fasting, for example, giving up deserts. We sacrifice time by giving a greater portion of our day to prayer. We sacrifice money by almsgiving - by orderings our finances to God's glory and the needs of the poor. You will hear more about this on Wednesday - and next Sunday, the First Sunday of Lent. All of our Lenten practices have one purpose - to increase our trust in the Lord. We force ourselves to give up what we think we need in order to focus ourselves on that trust.
None of us know what the future will bring. We know there will be hunger and plenty, sorrow and laughter, hatred and acceptance. We don’t know when or in what quantity. But we know one thing for sure. That God hungers and feasts with us, laughs and cries with us, feels our humiliation and accepts us for who we are. He knows this because he chose to share in our humanity. He took our weaknesses upon himself and gives us his glory in return.
And he always will. Faithfully.
Cycle C
Jer 17:5-8
1 Cor 15: 12, 16-20
Lk 6:17, 20-26
Today we hear blessings and curses. Perfect readings for Valentine’s Day!
Wait a minute! Valentine’s Day is all about love. Warm fuzzy, gushy, slobbering, flowers and chocolates, diamonds and hearts and cupids flying about…love. Not a lot of that stuff to be found in today’s readings, so how are they all about Valentine’s Day? Because love isn’t about all those things. Love isn’t always warm and fuzzy, is it? Love isn’t about romance. Love is all about trust.
In our first reading we hear: "Cursed is the one who trusts in human beings..." And, "Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord." Jeremiah is not bringing curses and blessings down upon us. He is simply stating the truth. If you trust in human beings alone you will find curses. If you trust in God you will find blessings. Why? Well, we have to look at what trust is, first. What does it mean to trust somebody or something? When you say you trust someone, what are you assuming about them? You are assuming that they will do what they say they’ll do. You expect them not to betray you. You expect them to be faithful to you and to their promises.
Trust is all about fidelity, and fidelity is all about love, so love is all about trust.
We’re entering the wedding season here in the mountains. Just as Valentine’s Day isn’t about the candy and flowers and jewelry, a wedding isn’t about the dress or the flowers or the music or the reception. A wedding is about the vows the man and woman give to each other. And they’re really quite simple. The bride and groom simply say to each other, “I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love and honor you all the days of my life”. The symbol of marriage is the wedding ring. When the couple exchange rings, each says to the other, “Take this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” We don’t promise that we’ll give each other a big house, or fancy cars, or fine jewelry. We don’t promise that we’ll always be happy and like each other. We don’t even promise to squeeze the toothpaste tube from the end. We only promise to be faithful to each other. And we do it in the name of the triune God who is the greatest, perfect example of faithfulness.
Fidelity has no strings attached. No matter what the future brings, we pledge ourselves to be faithful. Blessed are you who are poor. Because at some time you will be poor. Even if your portfolio is great, you will be lacking something you need. Love, security, fulfillment. Blessed are you when you are hungry. Well you will be hungry sometime in your life. Hungry for food, hungry for God, hungry for companionship. Blessed are you who mourn. And you will mourn. The loss of a parent, or a spouse, or a friend, or a job, or an opportunity. Blessed are you when people hate you, or exclude you or insult or denounce you. Because if you are living your Christian commitment they will. During these times we need to be faithful to each other, but most of all, we need to know that, even though we will fail in our fidelity, our God is always faithful to us, no matter what.
I'd like to tell you about a man who had a beautiful trust in God. It is Valentine story because it's about how he found his wife. It happened back in 1920, long before on-line dating services. What the man did was place an ad in a newspaper. This is what the ad said:
"Middle-ranking civil servant, single, Catholic, 43, immaculate past, from the country, is looking for a good Catholic, pure girl who can cook well, tackle all household chores, with a talent for sewing and homemaking, with a view to marriage as soon as possible. Fortune desirable but not a precondition."
A woman named Maria Peintner answered the ad. She was 36 years old, a trained cook and the illegitimate daughter of a baker. She did not have a fortune, but even so, they married four months later. In spite of their somewhat advanced years they had three children - two boys and a girl. The youngest child received the same name as his father: Joseph Ratzinger. He is better known today as Pope Benedict XVI.
After his election, someone dug up the "wife-wanted" ad and showed it to the new pope. The pope, of course, smiled. He knew that his parents gave a beautiful testimony to married love. Pope Benedict would speak often about that love. In fact, his first encyclical is entitled, "God is Love," and it describes marriage as the pre-eminent image and example of God's love for us.
God is the model for married love, and a marriage is the perfect model for God’s love. God is relationship; Father, Son and Spirit, therefore, love cannot exist by itself. It must occur in relationship, and it cannot be fulfilled unless it is given away. Jesus himself described his love for the church as that of a bridegroom for his bride. The ancient Hebrews often spoke of God’s love in terms of romantic love. God’s love for us is that personal, that romantic, that devoted. Each time we speak to each other in words like this we are also describing God’s love for us.
If a person gets up into their mid-thirties (or forties) and they have not found that special someone, they can feel life has passed them by, maybe even that God has forgotten them. That was not the case with Joseph and Maria Ratzinger. From all we know, they were people of deep faith in God. Joseph placed that ad trusting that God would send his life partner his way. And Maria answered that ad trusting that she would not be rejected because of her background and circumstances. Because of their trust in God, they had an admirable marriage and deeply united family.
The important point here is trust in the Lord. In a few days we are going to begin a holy season that emphasizes trust in the Lord. The Church encourages us to sacrifice some of things that are most important to us: food, time and money. We sacrifice food by some form of voluntary fasting, for example, giving up deserts. We sacrifice time by giving a greater portion of our day to prayer. We sacrifice money by almsgiving - by orderings our finances to God's glory and the needs of the poor. You will hear more about this on Wednesday - and next Sunday, the First Sunday of Lent. All of our Lenten practices have one purpose - to increase our trust in the Lord. We force ourselves to give up what we think we need in order to focus ourselves on that trust.
None of us know what the future will bring. We know there will be hunger and plenty, sorrow and laughter, hatred and acceptance. We don’t know when or in what quantity. But we know one thing for sure. That God hungers and feasts with us, laughs and cries with us, feels our humiliation and accepts us for who we are. He knows this because he chose to share in our humanity. He took our weaknesses upon himself and gives us his glory in return.
And he always will. Faithfully.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Lord, I Am Not Worthy
5th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Cycle C
Is 6:1-2a,3-8
1 Cor 15: 1-11
Lk 5:1-11
There is a parishioner I have known for many years; one of the most unselfish, generous, and loving people I know. She especially loves little children. A few years back she asked to serve as a Eucharistic Minister. I began to notice that she never chose to distribute the hosts, only the Precious Blood. Even when she was a lead minister, she always chose the cup. Finally I asked her why, and her answer surprised me. She said that she never gave out the hosts because that meant she would also have to give a blessing to the babies and little children, and she felt unworthy to do so. With all the goodness I knew she had in her, she didn’t think she was good enough to touch the children. That saddened me.
It seems to be a common attitude. We consider Isaiah to be one of the greatest prophets. We call St. Paul “The Apostle”, even though he was not one of the twelve. We revere St. Peter as the leader of the apostles and our first pope. All three are heroes and saints. Yet all three really didn’t think much of themselves either, did they? They didn’t think they had what it takes to serve the Lord. It wasn’t some false sense of humility. They really didn’t think they were worthy to serve as God was calling them, and, like my friend, they really didn’t want to do it, either. Many of us feel the same way.
What is worthiness? Where do we get it? Is it something that we earn? Is it an inner feeling we have or something bestowed upon us by others? Is it just our sense of self esteem or is it something more? Why do some people worry about it so much that they cannot even see the ultimate good in themselves?
Why would something keep you from touching the children?
We feel worthy when we believe we deserve to get something or do something. We feel worthy when we’re proud of our actions, when we see ourselves as good people who do good things. But we don’t always see ourselves as good, do we? We don’t always do good things, and that affects how we view ourselves. But that doesn’t affect how our God sees us.
God does not create evil. He does not create bad things. He creates only good.
We think of worthiness in terms of our own productivity and actions. We are worthy because we do something. Not so with God. You are worthy simply because God has made you worthy. We cannot earn worthiness with God; we can never pretend that we can be perfect as God is perfect on our own. God has willed you to be with him. He has created you good. He has willed you to be worthy.
Last week we heard the Lord tell the prophet Jeremiah, “Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you.” Before you were even conceived, God knew you. God knew what you would look like, who your family would be, where you would live, how you would grow up, what career you would choose, who you would marry, who your children would be, and how and when you would die. He knew all the good you would do and all the sins you would commit…and he created you anyway. Because even with all your imperfections and failings, you are still inherently good. Because God created you that way. In His image. Which is the ultimate good.
That is the basis of every Church teaching…that human beings have been created with great inherent dignity and worth. Simply because God has chosen to look on us that way. Every teaching on human life – abortion and euthanasia, sexuality and marriage, economic equality and immigration – has its basis in that fact. You are worthy. You have worth, even if you cannot do anything for yourself. Even if you are not productive. Even if you have no money or title. God cares not for these things. He cares only for you.
Catholic Christian belief is that God has created everyone inherently good. We’re good people who sometimes screw up. We sin, we confess, and we change our lives. Some other Christians see humanity as the opposite, as inherently sinful and evil people who need to be saved. Catholics are optimists, and our view of the world is optimistic. We do not ignore the sin and evil present in the world; on the contrary, we are some of the most vocal denouncers of that evil wherever it rears its ugly head. But we do not paint humanity with one broad brush. We take it down to the level of the individual, who has dignity and not only needs to be saved, but can actually be saved.
There is hope for everyone, even for Saul of Tarsus, who went so far as to persecute and kill the followers of Christ. There is hope for Simon Peter, who actually denied he even knew Jesus in his darkest hour. Because Jesus didn’t see Saul as a Roman Citizen, or a Jew, or a Pharisee, and therefore dismiss him out of hand. He didn’t see Simon Peter as a dirty, illiterate fisherman, and therefore ignore him. There were many people on that lakeside beach. Jesus knew all their hearts. He chose to hop in Peter’s boat. No labels or prejudices. Jesus saw them as individuals. He knew them before they were formed in the womb. He knew who they were destined to be, with all their imperfections. He loved them even though he knew they would both reject him at some time in their lives. And he created them anyway.
It is at the time of our denial of God that God holds us closest and gives us the opportunity to love him. Saul was on his way to arrest Christians when he had his conversion. Peter’s moment of truth was in that courtyard right after he denied his Lord, and he wept bitterly. At that moment he realized what he had done and determined never to deny Jesus again, even unto death.
In a few minutes we will all take part in the greatest sign of our worthiness, as Jesus Christ himself will become part of our very selves. Before we receive him, body, soul and divinity, we will say together, “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word, and I shall be healed.” This is not a moment of penitence. We already had the penitential rite at the beginning of Mass. We don’t have to say we’re sorry one last time before we receive communion. No, our declaration is one of hope. In saying it, we acknowledge our true relationship with God. We state that we know we are not worthy and can never make ourselves worthy. Only God can do that. And just as all creation was willed into being by God with a word; it is by the Word of God that we shall be healed. Jesus. And he does will us to be worthy. He does will us to be able to be in his presence. Both today and forever.
Once we come to grips with this awesome gift from God, once we use it to realize our own place in the great scheme of things, once we embrace exactly what our relationship with God is, only then can we live lives of true humility. Unworthiness leads to humiliation. Freely given and freely accepted worthiness leads to humility. And humility leads to a life of true service to God and to his people.
He makes us worthy to be sent out as his prophets, apostles, and fishers of men. Because that’s the ultimate result of God’s plan for us. He makes us worthy to represent him to the world, to be sacrament to mankind. Isaiah, Paul, Peter and all the apostles came to the realization that once they were made worthy they had to do something with it. They couldn’t just sit at home and think they had it made. They were all called to go out and spread that same message of worthiness to all of God’s people. Even though for all of them it meant a martyr’s death.
We may not be called to be martyrs, but we are all called to love.
We are all called to touch the children.
Cycle C
Is 6:1-2a,3-8
1 Cor 15: 1-11
Lk 5:1-11
There is a parishioner I have known for many years; one of the most unselfish, generous, and loving people I know. She especially loves little children. A few years back she asked to serve as a Eucharistic Minister. I began to notice that she never chose to distribute the hosts, only the Precious Blood. Even when she was a lead minister, she always chose the cup. Finally I asked her why, and her answer surprised me. She said that she never gave out the hosts because that meant she would also have to give a blessing to the babies and little children, and she felt unworthy to do so. With all the goodness I knew she had in her, she didn’t think she was good enough to touch the children. That saddened me.
It seems to be a common attitude. We consider Isaiah to be one of the greatest prophets. We call St. Paul “The Apostle”, even though he was not one of the twelve. We revere St. Peter as the leader of the apostles and our first pope. All three are heroes and saints. Yet all three really didn’t think much of themselves either, did they? They didn’t think they had what it takes to serve the Lord. It wasn’t some false sense of humility. They really didn’t think they were worthy to serve as God was calling them, and, like my friend, they really didn’t want to do it, either. Many of us feel the same way.
What is worthiness? Where do we get it? Is it something that we earn? Is it an inner feeling we have or something bestowed upon us by others? Is it just our sense of self esteem or is it something more? Why do some people worry about it so much that they cannot even see the ultimate good in themselves?
Why would something keep you from touching the children?
We feel worthy when we believe we deserve to get something or do something. We feel worthy when we’re proud of our actions, when we see ourselves as good people who do good things. But we don’t always see ourselves as good, do we? We don’t always do good things, and that affects how we view ourselves. But that doesn’t affect how our God sees us.
God does not create evil. He does not create bad things. He creates only good.
We think of worthiness in terms of our own productivity and actions. We are worthy because we do something. Not so with God. You are worthy simply because God has made you worthy. We cannot earn worthiness with God; we can never pretend that we can be perfect as God is perfect on our own. God has willed you to be with him. He has created you good. He has willed you to be worthy.
Last week we heard the Lord tell the prophet Jeremiah, “Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you.” Before you were even conceived, God knew you. God knew what you would look like, who your family would be, where you would live, how you would grow up, what career you would choose, who you would marry, who your children would be, and how and when you would die. He knew all the good you would do and all the sins you would commit…and he created you anyway. Because even with all your imperfections and failings, you are still inherently good. Because God created you that way. In His image. Which is the ultimate good.
That is the basis of every Church teaching…that human beings have been created with great inherent dignity and worth. Simply because God has chosen to look on us that way. Every teaching on human life – abortion and euthanasia, sexuality and marriage, economic equality and immigration – has its basis in that fact. You are worthy. You have worth, even if you cannot do anything for yourself. Even if you are not productive. Even if you have no money or title. God cares not for these things. He cares only for you.
Catholic Christian belief is that God has created everyone inherently good. We’re good people who sometimes screw up. We sin, we confess, and we change our lives. Some other Christians see humanity as the opposite, as inherently sinful and evil people who need to be saved. Catholics are optimists, and our view of the world is optimistic. We do not ignore the sin and evil present in the world; on the contrary, we are some of the most vocal denouncers of that evil wherever it rears its ugly head. But we do not paint humanity with one broad brush. We take it down to the level of the individual, who has dignity and not only needs to be saved, but can actually be saved.
There is hope for everyone, even for Saul of Tarsus, who went so far as to persecute and kill the followers of Christ. There is hope for Simon Peter, who actually denied he even knew Jesus in his darkest hour. Because Jesus didn’t see Saul as a Roman Citizen, or a Jew, or a Pharisee, and therefore dismiss him out of hand. He didn’t see Simon Peter as a dirty, illiterate fisherman, and therefore ignore him. There were many people on that lakeside beach. Jesus knew all their hearts. He chose to hop in Peter’s boat. No labels or prejudices. Jesus saw them as individuals. He knew them before they were formed in the womb. He knew who they were destined to be, with all their imperfections. He loved them even though he knew they would both reject him at some time in their lives. And he created them anyway.
It is at the time of our denial of God that God holds us closest and gives us the opportunity to love him. Saul was on his way to arrest Christians when he had his conversion. Peter’s moment of truth was in that courtyard right after he denied his Lord, and he wept bitterly. At that moment he realized what he had done and determined never to deny Jesus again, even unto death.
In a few minutes we will all take part in the greatest sign of our worthiness, as Jesus Christ himself will become part of our very selves. Before we receive him, body, soul and divinity, we will say together, “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word, and I shall be healed.” This is not a moment of penitence. We already had the penitential rite at the beginning of Mass. We don’t have to say we’re sorry one last time before we receive communion. No, our declaration is one of hope. In saying it, we acknowledge our true relationship with God. We state that we know we are not worthy and can never make ourselves worthy. Only God can do that. And just as all creation was willed into being by God with a word; it is by the Word of God that we shall be healed. Jesus. And he does will us to be worthy. He does will us to be able to be in his presence. Both today and forever.
Once we come to grips with this awesome gift from God, once we use it to realize our own place in the great scheme of things, once we embrace exactly what our relationship with God is, only then can we live lives of true humility. Unworthiness leads to humiliation. Freely given and freely accepted worthiness leads to humility. And humility leads to a life of true service to God and to his people.
He makes us worthy to be sent out as his prophets, apostles, and fishers of men. Because that’s the ultimate result of God’s plan for us. He makes us worthy to represent him to the world, to be sacrament to mankind. Isaiah, Paul, Peter and all the apostles came to the realization that once they were made worthy they had to do something with it. They couldn’t just sit at home and think they had it made. They were all called to go out and spread that same message of worthiness to all of God’s people. Even though for all of them it meant a martyr’s death.
We may not be called to be martyrs, but we are all called to love.
We are all called to touch the children.
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