Feelin' Small

31^st Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle C

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This man too is a son of Abraham.”

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

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

Have Mercy on Me, a Sinner

30^th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle C

Sir 35: 12-14,16-18

2 Tim 4:6-8, 16-18

Lk 18:9-14

This week we complete St. Luke’s trilogy of stories on prayer. Two weeks ago we heard the story of the ten lepers who were cured by Jesus. Only one returned to give thanks to God. We learned that it is necessary to offer prayers of thanksgiving for all the gifts God has given us. Last week we heard the parable of the corrupt judge, and learned that we must be persistent when we ask God to give us what we need. Today we learn about probably the most important form of prayer of all, praying for forgiveness. Praying for forgiveness is most important because unless we receive forgiveness, we really can’t ask God for what we need and cannot thank him for his gifts to us. Because it is through God’s mercy that he gives us the ability to ask and the ability to offer thanks.

It’s a lot like with our own relationships. If you are on the outs with a friend or relative, you shut down communication with them. You avoid being with them. You begin to think bitter thoughts about them, and you erect barriers between you. You wouldn’t dream of asking them for anything or thanking them for anything, because the relationship is broken. In order for the relationship to be healed there must be mercy. You must show mercy to them and vice versa. Only when that step is made can the barriers come down and you can resume a healthy, happy relationship.

Think of how that tax collector must have felt. His chosen profession and lifestyle had cut him off from his countrymen and from God. Everyone thought of him as a sinner and a traitor because he collaborated with the Romans in cheating people. He must have been torn in two. On the one hand he enjoyed all the things he had because of his ill-gotten wealth. But on the other hand he must have hated himself for betraying his people and his own conscience. That is why he crept into the temple area quietly and couldn’t even raise his eyes to heaven in prayer. But he knew his real situation and his true problem. He didn’t try to justify himself to God. All he did was throw himself on God’s mercy. Who knows, maybe he left there with a change of heart. He had taken that first step of conversion. His prayer left the door open for change.

The Pharisee, on the other hand, thought he had it all figured out. He couldn’t see how he was cutting himself off from those around him just as much as the tax collector was. He was building barriers to others and to God just as much as the tax collector was. The Pharisee did try to justify himself, and in doing so was deceiving himself. We can guess that he left the temple not open to conversion but more firmly fixed in his arrogance. He asked for no mercy because he didn’t recognize his need for it, and so he received none. He was not praying to God, he was praying to himself. His prayer had no value because it had no power to change him.

Why do we pray? Why do we feel the need to communicate with God? God doesn’t need our words or thoughts to know what’s in our hearts. God knows who we are and what we need even before we do. But I think that God likes to hear us say it. Why do we feel the need to tell those we love that we love them? And why do we like to hear them tell us they love us? We know they do, but we still like to hear it. We need reassurance that we are loved.

We pray to God because we need to say it and we need to believe that he likes to hear it. When we love someone it’s natural to communicate with them. We need to know that we’re ok with God. We need to know that we have ultimate value, that we are accepted by our creator, even though we don’t really deserve it. We need to have that hope and know that there’s a purpose to life, with all its joys and sufferings. It is through our prayer that we keep our relationship with God in focus.

But does God answer prayers? Ah, the great question. When we ask it we are usually referring to prayers of petition. We ask God for something and then sit back and wait to see if we get it. Sometimes we do get what we ask for, but rarely does God answer us boldly and loudly, so we can easily recognize it. Rarely do we get that miracle we’ve been hoping for. But then, we never got that pony we asked our parents for for Christmas, did we? And I think we oftentimes make excuses for not getting what we asked for. “God knows best, and I guess I really didn’t need it. So I guess I’ll try to word it a bit differently next time.” Or, we look back and try hard to see how God really did answer our prayers. “Yeah, that was it, right there. It really did work out ok in the end, even if it wasn’t the way I expected it or planned it.” We desperately need to believe that God hears us.

But what about those prayers of hopelessness when we are enveloped in deep suffering and poverty of body and spirit? When we are not asking for things but just for an end to our pain? What about the millions of people who go to bed hungry every night, who aren’t asking for a better job or a new car but just to survive? Sometimes their prayers are never answered with the alleviation of their suffering. Does that mean they weren’t answered? Does that mean that God has abandoned them?

St. Paul experienced this. Many times he prayed that he be relieved of an unknown physical ailment, only to get the answer that sorry, he had to put up with it. He came to the conclusion that it was only when he was weak and had to rely totally on God that he was actually stronger. But that still didn’t make him feel any better. And today we heard that even after an entire career of bringing the Good News to people the world over, he was still alone and abandoned by them in his time of need. Just like Jesus. But even when he looked back on his life’s race and saw all the times he’d stumbled and fell, he still kept his eyes on the finish line. He never lost hope.

God does not guarantee that when we ask for things from Him we will necessarily get what we request. He only guarantees that we will receive His mercy and through that mercy, hope. Prayer is always answered with mercy.

And mercy is all about hope. Can you imagine what the world would be like if God were not merciful towards us? What if he left us to our own devices in our evil and sinfulness? Without God’s mercy there would be no good on the earth. Because we sin we need to ask for and receive forgiveness. If God in his mercy does not forgive us we are doomed to destroy ourselves. Without the possibility of forgiveness we would go insane. Without God’s mercy we would have no hope. Because the opposite of mercy is despair.

But what is mercy? True mercy is not a dominance and submission thing, where a superior is judging us and cuts us a break out of the goodness of his heart. Mercy is treating people as they should be treated just because of who they are, children of God. Mercy is acknowledging the inherent dignity of every human person, and then giving everyone what they need to live as true persons.

True mercy actually requires the one giving it to humble himself or herself. It is when another lowers himself to our level and accepts us as equals. Think of the greatest act of mercy in all history. God himself humbled himself to become one of us, and to die for us out of mercy for us.

And true mercy also requires the one who receives it to accept it with humility. Not in humiliation, but with an understanding that even though our actions require forgiveness, we still have great value. Mercy is accepting our true place in the scheme of things and knowing what our true relationship is with our creator. Have mercy on us sinners. We need to accept that we are only the creatures, and we don’t have all the answers. Sometimes it all makes sense and oftentimes it doesn’t. But that doesn’t mean we give up in frustration.

Because we wait with joyful hope for the coming of our savior, Jesus Christ. 

Press On!

29^th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C

Persistence is a virtue we embrace in our society. We will persist in our work year after hard year, hoping to be successful. The harder we work, the more we succeed, the more we are called upon to do, and the more responsibilities we have. It really never gets any easier. Yet we do not question this lifestyle. We hold it up as a goal.

Do we see our lives of prayer differently? Are we as persistent in the things of faith as we are in our careers?  Or do we give up when we don’t think our prayers are being answered?  Why will we press on when it’s our efforts we’re relying on yet give up so easily when asked to submit to the will of God?

But how can we pray all the time? It’s not realistic. We have things to do, people to see, soccer games to attend. It’s hard to find time to pray.

Constant prayer is not talking to God all the time. Prayer is experiencing God in our lives, acknowledging God’s importance in our lives. Prayer is communication with God, and most of the time we don’t use words. Monks in monasteries will pray the liturgy of the hours many times throughout the day. Yet they consider their work to be their main form of prayer. Their lives are their prayer because they offer up everything about their lives to God. The things they produce, the way they get along with others, the small daily sufferings they endure. All are understood as being gifts they give back to God in thanksgiving for all the gifts God has given them. What a wonderful way to look at the ordinariness, joys and challenges of our own lives.

But why do we have to pray at all, when God knows what we need and want and desires to give it to us? And why doesn’t God answer our prayers the first time we ask? Why do we have to ask over and over again? Nothing is more annoying than a little child pestering his parent. Is it because God wants us to really, really want it? Does he want us to be sure ourselves when we ask? Can we change God’s mind or will for us?

Persistence in prayer does not change God. God is forever constant. Persistence in prayer changes us. If you have to pray all the time for what you want and need, you become a person of prayer. If you only pray occasionally it’s often hard to get it going again. What if you only ate once a week, only for an hour on Sunday morning, and then didn’t eat again all week? What would that do to your body? Would it increase your lessen your hunger? By Friday afternoon, what thinking would consume you? Eat. We would never dream of doing something like that with food, but you know we all do it when it comes to prayer. Persistence in prayer every day builds in us the habit of prayer, so that eventually it is part of our every fiber, just as the food we eat becomes part of us, is absorbed into us, and nourishes us.

We’ve all heard the saying of St. Francis, “To be a good preacher you must preach constantly, and when all else fails use words.” Francis recognized that we are most effective when we act rather than when we talk.

But isn’t what Francis said even more difficult than preaching out loud all the time? Doesn’t it take even more effort, even more time, to constantly make our lives examples of Christ’s love in the world? I don’t know about you, but I’ve never had someone come up to me and say, “ I really admire you and the way you live your life. It must be because you’re Catholic. I want to be Catholic, too.”

Yet just like in the workplace, when more is given to a person, more will be required. It doesn’t get any easier. You can’t retire from your faith. The more it grows within you, the more you live it out, the more you will be called upon to do. Paul didn’t say to Timothy, “Oh well, your kids are grown, so you don’t have to be a catechist anymore,” or “You’ve put in your time. Let someone else take over for awhile.” He told him to be persistent and consistent, even when it’s inconvenient.

We can’t use those excuses in our careers, why should your life of faith be any different? If we are truly to live the Kingdom of God, then our faith is not something we just think about on Sundays or when we sit down at the dinner table. Our awareness of the presence of God must be foremost in our thoughts and in our actions. You can’t turn God on and off like a switch. He doesn’t think of us only when it’s convenient for him. We are constantly in his thoughts. He is constantly calling to us, wanting us to know that he loves us.

This is hard to hear. Are our lives to be nothing but serving others? Well, of course. That is the crux of Jesus’ call to us as disciples. When you signed on for this life of faith, you knew it wasn’t a part-time job. You knew it wouldn’t be easy. When you were baptized, you were baptized into Jesus’ death. “To be my disciple”, he said, you must pick up your cross daily, and follow me.” Daily.

Giving more and more of ourselves is hard work, and we usually rely on our leaders to do the heavy lifting, after all, it’s their full-time job. Sometimes, like Moses in today’s first reading, they grow weary. Sometimes they can’t do it all by themselves. When that happens, we are there to hold up their hands. We are there to support them in prayer, and by giving of our time and our talents. Being a disciple is a full-time job for all of us.

A few years ago someone coined the term “compartmentalization”, a concept where public figures argue that they can separate their private lives and actions from their public responsibilities. What they do in private shouldn’t be used to judge their public record.  This gives some people a nice excuse to do all sorts of unseemly things. But, as we know, we must be consistent in living our faith all the time, not just on Sundays, because what we do in private can affect the entire community of God, for good or for evil.

Paul tells Timothy, one of his first bishops, that he is charged with teaching people about Jesus. He must use scripture to do so, and he must not just live a good life. He must talk about it. He is called to convince people, to correct them, to reprimand them. He must know his stuff and use it in persuasive arguments to challenge people’s thinking. I think we’re uncomfortable being this up front with our beliefs. Yet, we have political debates all the time. Why do we think we have to persuade others to our point of view politically but not in matters of faith? Are our political convictions stronger than our religious convictions?

Whew! This seems really hard. We have to pray constantly, live our lives as examples of God’s love for the world, and be vocal witnesses to other people. Why do it? Well, why do we work so hard for our careers? Because it’s worth it. We work hard because we know the rewards will be greater still. Because Jesus did it. That’s the story of his life. He pressed-on to the bitter end because he knew how glorious the ending would be.

When the Son of Man returns, will he find any faith on the earth? I don’t know, but I’m going to try.