13th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Cycle C
1 Kngs 19:16b;19-21
Gal 5:1, 13-18
Lk 9:51-62
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights; that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. Next weekend we will celebrate the 234th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. Every year at this time we stop and think about freedom and what it means to us as a nation and as individuals. The Declaration is the defining statement about what we believe it means to be free.
Thomas Jefferson used the Declaration to set forth not only a list of grievances against what the colonists considered to be the actions of a tyrannical British government, he also set the foundation for how we Americans would view ourselves and our inherent rights as human beings, superseding even our rights as citizens. The founders saw freedom as an extension of natural law and acknowledged that it is God who ultimately gives us our freedom.
We have come a long way since those words were written. And we have wandered far from their original meaning. We no longer hold life as an unalienable right for all people, especially when it’s inconvenient for us to do so. Liberty? What exactly is that? We talk about it once a year but I don’t think many of us truly know what it means. We talk about our rights all the time but not about the responsibilities that go with them. But the pursuit of happiness? Ahh, that’s the one we understand, and hold as our most basic right, surpassing all others. For us, freedom has become the unfettered ability to pursue happiness. I should be able to do whatever I like, as long as it makes me happy. You do your thing and I’ll do mine. And we both determine what’s right and wrong for each of us. Freedom is the ability to do whatever we want whenever we want. For Americans today, freedom is something we take for ourselves, not something that is given us by our creator.
George Orwell said that if you control the language you control the people. We use words that all people agree refer to a great good, such as freedom and choice, and we use them to describe things that are actually sinful. We’ve muddied the waters to the point that we have lost sight of what freedom really is. Orwell also said that “doublethink means the power of holding two contradictory beliefs in one's mind simultaneously, and accepting both of them.” We have heard and spoken these words and their twisted meanings so often that we have come to believe in their contradictions. We have descended into doublethink.
What is freedom to God? Has God created us to be truly free, or does He just set up a lot of rules for us to follow? Are we truly free agents or just servants? Actually, it’s both. We are free agents when we are servants. Freedom is not the ability to do whatever we want. That is license. Freedom is not live and let live. It is not license for individuals to act whichever way they want. Freedom is truly the ability to live as we were originally intended to live. As our creator made us.
Freedom to us is really freedom from sin. Because God didn’t make us to be sinful.
He hard wired us for himself, to be like him, and we can only be truly free when we live and act as he wills. It’s not about us and yet it’s all about us.
The Declaration of Independence wasn’t the first declaration of freedom. For that we look to St. Paul. He declared long ago that we have been made free by the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross. Jesus of Nazareth is the example of what it means to be truly human and truly free. Jesus had the power to act any way he chose. He had the ultimate license to do what he pleased. And he was all about the pursuit of happiness. But it was our happiness he sought. He wielded his freedom in the way it was intended to be; by submitting his entire life to the Father’s will. Freedom to Jesus was not living according to his own will but to that of his Father’s.
And he said that he longer considered us to be slaves; we are now called his friends.
We were not created slaves, we were created free persons. In the beginning, humanity was created without the slavery of sin and death. All our needs were supplied by God and we had such a close relationship with our creator that it says in Genesis that God actually walked in the garden with Adam and Eve. As friends. It was through sin that we became enslaved and lost our way. When humanity chose to define freedom as doing our own will in opposition to that of the Father’s, suffering and death came into the world.
We can try and try to fill that hole within us with as much stuff as we can. We can think that we’re the ultimate arbitrators of our own destiny. We can assert our own wills day in and day out, and we will never be happy. Because our pursuit will never end in happiness until we surrender our will to the Father. And that’s hard. Because everything in our culture is pulling us in the opposite direction. Society says that we only have value when we assert our independence. We only have value when we can keep score of our accomplishments. Of our possessions. Of our status. Of our own inner strength. In order to live as we are intended to live we have to fight every day of our lives to keep our perspective clear. We have to declare our independence from the flesh each and every day. That means surrender. Another seeming contradiction. We triumph when we surrender. And it never gets easier, this war against contradiction.
What, did you think that now that you have declared your independence there wouldn’t be a war?
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Out of Sight Out of Mind
Feast of the Ascension
Cycle C
The apostles were all screwed up. They didn’t know what to think. One minute their master was dead, then he just shows up every once in awhile when they least expect it. First he’s here, then he’s there, then he’s over there. What an amazing roller coaster of emotions they must have been on. Was he really not dead? Was he really going to stay this time?
The apostles had been overcome by their grief at Jesus’ death. And it was so hard for them to believe and accept that he had risen. They didn’t even believe their own eyes. Their grief turned to rejoicing, because he was there again. But Jesus knew they couldn’t take it if he left them again like he had before. They thought he was gone forever when they sealed him up in that tomb. But then he appeared again to them, and they had hope. Can you imagine what they would have felt if he simply disappeared from their lives again?
Luke says that he was taken from their sight, hidden in the clouds. Not that he was gone, just hidden from their sight. For now. If he had not ascended, if he had not just been taken from their sight, they would have been crushed forever. If he had just stopped appearing to them they would not have had the hope that he was going to come again, and stay this time.
Their belief in the imminence of the second coming came from his ascension. They believed him when he said he was coming back soon, because he had come back once before. He didn’t seem lost to them anymore. He was not dead to them any more.
It’s like when someone we love goes on a trip. They are taken from our sight by that airplane, but we know they are not gone forever. They will return, and we anticipate their return. We miss them, but we take solace in our hope. My daughter, Kimberly, just got back last night from a two week tour of Ireland with her college choir. Her plane landed at about 10 o’clock, and Nancy and I drove down to pick her up and take her to her apartment, even though her boyfriend lives in Salt Lake and could have done it. Instead, we drove an hour each way down there just to pick her up. On the way down, Nancy commented that we were driving two hours to see Kimi for ten minutes. All I could say was, “But I miss her”. Even though we had talked and texted practically every day she was gone, I still needed to see her. I couldn’t wait another day.
If someone we love dies we do not have that same anticipation. We miss them, but the solace of the resurrection is not the same as if we knew we’d see them next Tuesday. We know that we’ll be reunited in heaven, but that seems so far away.
And so we grieve and call it a loss.
Sometimes we lose Jesus. Jesus is hidden from us all the time. Sometimes he chooses to seem far away in order to force us to do things for ourselves, like he did with the apostles. Other times he is right next to us and we cannot recognize him, as he was with the two disciples on the road to Emmaus on Easter evening. But most of the time we push him from our sight. He is hidden from us by our own sinfulness and unwillingness to bend our will to his. We hide him away in his room, like a crazy uncle, because what he has to say can be offensive to the world. His message is crazy to the world. We’re embarrassed to bring him out into the open, because we’re afraid of what others will say about us. And most of all we’re afraid. We’re afraid that maybe he has left us here on our own. Maybe he’s not coming back. Like the apostles, we’ve been hurt and have felt very alone many many times. It’s hard to trust. So we keep him here, in this church, and we come to see him every once in awhile. Because it’s safe in here.
How many of you remember the movie “Michael” with John Travolta? Remember at the end of the movie, Michael the Archangel dies and is taken up into heaven, after spending a couple weeks carousing here on earth. The two main characters, who had fallen in love, had a falling out and weren’t speaking to each other. One night, the man is walking in downtown Chicago, and he thinks he catches sight of Michael turning a corner, but he isn’t sure. All he sees is a quick glimpse of his back as he hurries through the streets. He pursues the angel, or what he thinks is the angel, until he runs around a corner and bumps right into his lover’s arms. She too had seen glimpses of the angel, and was running after him to catch him. What they found was not the angel but love love. And they lived happily ever after.
Maybe that’s how Jesus likes it. How often do we run after Jesus, only catching glimpses of him, running and running after him until we run smack dab into each other’s arms. We find him in each other.
The apostles did the same thing. They found Jesus in each other. After the ascension they didn’t split up and return to their old ways of life. They didn’t go off by themselves into the hills or take up their old professions. They stuck together, as a community. They did all things in community, shared all things in common. They worked and prayed and hoped in common. They told stories of Jesus to each other. They broke bread together. They lived and died together. It seemed the natural thing to do.
Because it is. And that’s why we also follow Jesus in community. Because we’re all in this together. It is natural for us to get together each week and share Jesus stories, to break bread together. To pray and to hope together. To live and die together. That’s the way Jesus intended it to be, because that’s the way we know he is still with us. Here. Today. Now.
Cycle C
The apostles were all screwed up. They didn’t know what to think. One minute their master was dead, then he just shows up every once in awhile when they least expect it. First he’s here, then he’s there, then he’s over there. What an amazing roller coaster of emotions they must have been on. Was he really not dead? Was he really going to stay this time?
The apostles had been overcome by their grief at Jesus’ death. And it was so hard for them to believe and accept that he had risen. They didn’t even believe their own eyes. Their grief turned to rejoicing, because he was there again. But Jesus knew they couldn’t take it if he left them again like he had before. They thought he was gone forever when they sealed him up in that tomb. But then he appeared again to them, and they had hope. Can you imagine what they would have felt if he simply disappeared from their lives again?
Luke says that he was taken from their sight, hidden in the clouds. Not that he was gone, just hidden from their sight. For now. If he had not ascended, if he had not just been taken from their sight, they would have been crushed forever. If he had just stopped appearing to them they would not have had the hope that he was going to come again, and stay this time.
Their belief in the imminence of the second coming came from his ascension. They believed him when he said he was coming back soon, because he had come back once before. He didn’t seem lost to them anymore. He was not dead to them any more.
It’s like when someone we love goes on a trip. They are taken from our sight by that airplane, but we know they are not gone forever. They will return, and we anticipate their return. We miss them, but we take solace in our hope. My daughter, Kimberly, just got back last night from a two week tour of Ireland with her college choir. Her plane landed at about 10 o’clock, and Nancy and I drove down to pick her up and take her to her apartment, even though her boyfriend lives in Salt Lake and could have done it. Instead, we drove an hour each way down there just to pick her up. On the way down, Nancy commented that we were driving two hours to see Kimi for ten minutes. All I could say was, “But I miss her”. Even though we had talked and texted practically every day she was gone, I still needed to see her. I couldn’t wait another day.
If someone we love dies we do not have that same anticipation. We miss them, but the solace of the resurrection is not the same as if we knew we’d see them next Tuesday. We know that we’ll be reunited in heaven, but that seems so far away.
And so we grieve and call it a loss.
Sometimes we lose Jesus. Jesus is hidden from us all the time. Sometimes he chooses to seem far away in order to force us to do things for ourselves, like he did with the apostles. Other times he is right next to us and we cannot recognize him, as he was with the two disciples on the road to Emmaus on Easter evening. But most of the time we push him from our sight. He is hidden from us by our own sinfulness and unwillingness to bend our will to his. We hide him away in his room, like a crazy uncle, because what he has to say can be offensive to the world. His message is crazy to the world. We’re embarrassed to bring him out into the open, because we’re afraid of what others will say about us. And most of all we’re afraid. We’re afraid that maybe he has left us here on our own. Maybe he’s not coming back. Like the apostles, we’ve been hurt and have felt very alone many many times. It’s hard to trust. So we keep him here, in this church, and we come to see him every once in awhile. Because it’s safe in here.
How many of you remember the movie “Michael” with John Travolta? Remember at the end of the movie, Michael the Archangel dies and is taken up into heaven, after spending a couple weeks carousing here on earth. The two main characters, who had fallen in love, had a falling out and weren’t speaking to each other. One night, the man is walking in downtown Chicago, and he thinks he catches sight of Michael turning a corner, but he isn’t sure. All he sees is a quick glimpse of his back as he hurries through the streets. He pursues the angel, or what he thinks is the angel, until he runs around a corner and bumps right into his lover’s arms. She too had seen glimpses of the angel, and was running after him to catch him. What they found was not the angel but love love. And they lived happily ever after.
Maybe that’s how Jesus likes it. How often do we run after Jesus, only catching glimpses of him, running and running after him until we run smack dab into each other’s arms. We find him in each other.
The apostles did the same thing. They found Jesus in each other. After the ascension they didn’t split up and return to their old ways of life. They didn’t go off by themselves into the hills or take up their old professions. They stuck together, as a community. They did all things in community, shared all things in common. They worked and prayed and hoped in common. They told stories of Jesus to each other. They broke bread together. They lived and died together. It seemed the natural thing to do.
Because it is. And that’s why we also follow Jesus in community. Because we’re all in this together. It is natural for us to get together each week and share Jesus stories, to break bread together. To pray and to hope together. To live and die together. That’s the way Jesus intended it to be, because that’s the way we know he is still with us. Here. Today. Now.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
A Hollywood Love Story
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?
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?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)