3rd Sunday of Lent – Scrutiny
Ex 17:3-7
Rm 5:1-2,5-8
Jn 4:5-42
This is a love story right out of a Hollywood movie.
Boy meets girl from the other side of the tracks. Girl is suspicious of boy. Boy offers outrageous promise. Girl is skeptical. They talk politics and religion. Boy’s friends think he’s crazy for getting involved with girl. Boy wins over girl. Girl takes boy to meet the family. Everyone lives happily ever after.
This story seems familiar to us because it is so common. We see our own relationships mirrored in the relationship between Jesus and the woman. We never know her name. Maybe because she’s a metaphor for us all. We rarely, if ever, fall head over heels in love with another at first sight. It takes time to get over our skepticism and our differences. We need to delve deeper into the other person’s heart before we can trust. And true love can only be built upon trust.
Jesus strips all the pretences away immediately. He gets right to the point.
One sows, another reaps. Sometimes that sowing isn’t a positive thing. The woman had had five bad relationships. Each one left scars on her that needed to be healed. Why did Jesus bring up her husbands? Was it because her failed relationships were what were causing her the most pain in her life? Did she feel a failure? Was she being ostracized by the townsfolk because of her reputation? Is that what was keeping her from taking the life giving waters?
Jesus wasn’t saying “gotcha”. He knew what was in her heart just as he knows all of us. There is no way we can hide from God. But he had to expose the scars before the woman could be open to receiving his healing waters.
We all come to the well with scars. All of our buckets have holes in them. We often feel unworthy to approach the well. We do it in secret, when no one else is around.
What do we do when we come to the well and find Jesus is already there waiting for us? Are we as skeptical as the Samaritan woman?
This morning we are celebrating the first scrutiny for our elect and candidates. There will be two more in the weeks to come. They’re not here to bare their souls to anyone, and we’re not here to scrutinize them. They have been scrutinizing themselves for a long time, and today we’re here to accept them as they are, just as Jesus accepts them for who they are. Just as he accepted the woman at the well.
This entire gospel is a metaphor for the journey of our elect and candidates. In fact, at all the other Masses this weekend we will be reading completely different readings. Because we have our Elect and candidates here this morning for the Scrutiny we must read these particular readings, from the Gospel of John, because these stories are their stories.
Most of us came to the well first when we were infants. We oftentimes fail to appreciate what that water has done for us, continues to do for us. These catechumens are coming to the well of their own free will as adults. And teenagers. What are they looking for? What scars do they need to have healed?
These folks are also living their own love stories with Jesus. Some stories are very passionate. Others are more calm and methodical. Some started out skeptical of the guy at the well. Others were more sure of themselves. But all have scars. All have history. And Jesus chooses to insert himself into their histories just as he physically inserted himself into the history of mankind 2000 years ago. As he continues to insert himself into our histories today.
Jesus didn’t have to speak to the woman that day. He could have waited for the disciples to return with food and drink and been on his way. But he crossed over the woman’s personal boundary and forced her to take a look at him and at herself. He forced her to scrutinize herself and her life. He asked her to see herself as he saw her. And then he offered a way for her to heal her scars.
Our own personal love stories are far different from Hollywood’s romantic comedies. Oftentimes they’re more like Shakespearean tragedies. But no matter how bad they are from time to time, we keep coming back. We are drawn to love. That’s human nature. We keep on coming back to the well because we thirst for that something we can’t seem to put our finger on. But God knows what we need. Because God is love. He knows what we thirst for because he put that thirst in us.
Have you met Jesus at your well? Are you suspicious of his outrageous promise? Has he won you over yet? Has he healed your scars? Have you introduced him to your friends and family? Do you believe he is the savior of the world?
Will you live happily ever after?
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Doubting Thomas
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.
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, 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.
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