22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time
Cycle C
Sir 3:17-18,20, 28-29
Heb 12:18-19,22-24a
Lk 14:1,7-14
“Ever since you became a deacon, you’ve been a pompous jerk! I’ve had it with you and I’ve had it with St. Mary’s!” Actually, the language used was a bit saltier, but you get the idea. And that was the nicest thing he said.
Wow, I was stunned. All I could do was sit there and stare at the phone after he hung up on me. This was from one of my oldest and closest friends, and I was completely blindsided. Months and months of anger had just come rushing out. I became indignant. “I’m the jerk? I’m the jerk? All I’ve ever been is a good friend to you. Where do you get off talking to me like that? You’ve blown everything out of proportion. It’s you who’s out of line.” Then, after I’d cooled down a bit, I was magnanimous and understanding. “He’s been having a hard time lately. He’s probably having a bad day. I’ll give him a bit of time and then he’ll call back and apologize.” Then, as the conversation played itself over and over again in my mind, I figured, “You know, he may be right.” A lot of times I do act arrogantly. A lot of times I do think that being a deacon is special, that I know everything, and I’m sure that attitude comes out. And that is not what being a deacon is all about. It’s not what being a friend is all about. It’s not what being a Christian is all about. Finally, I was struck by shame and guilt, and saw things through his eyes. And I was sorry; very, very sorry.
It’s hard to be humble. It’s not how most of us were raised, and it’s not how we are taught to act by society. The meek shall inherit the earth. Right. Tell that to the shy kid on the playground who everyone picks on. Or tell that to the woman who just got passed over for promotion because a coworker was more aggressive. We’re taught to be self-sufficient, self-reliant, proud of our accomplishments. Some people just seem to have it, though. We can’t pin it down exactly, but we know it when we see it, just as we recognize arrogance and pride when we see it. We often pass it off as shyness or insecurity, and sometimes it is, but true humility is a sign of great strength.
Humility is not what you do, it’s what you are. It’s not a character trait that you can cultivate, it’s the attitude you have based upon how you view yourself in relation to other people. Humility is all about relationships. How we view ourselves in relation with others. Including God. Who’s in charge? Who’s the master and who’s the servant?
In a competitive society it’s especially hard to be humble. And we’re taught from an early age to “love ourselves”. There’s even a song about that. And most times we don’t act on it consciously. We don’t ever want to be seen as arrogant, and we can work hard at being humble, but if our attitude towards other people is one of superiority, if we don’t see ourselves as being servants of others rather than masters, that will come out in how we treat other people. It’s all about how we see ourselves and other people. And everyone can sense it, for good or for evil.
Every now and then we get a smackdown, right between the eyes, usually from those closest to us. Most of the time we don’t even realize that we’re hurting others by the little things we say, or by our indifference to other people’s situations, but they remember every slight and dig, real or imagined. And sometimes it all blows up in your face and you lose a friend. When that happens you have a choice to make: you can get all worked up yourself and blame it all on the other person, or you can calmly take stock of your life and humbly try to see if maybe they have a point. Those smackdowns can have great value if they shock us into seeing ourselves as we truly are and lead us to do something to change our attitudes.
The greatest act of humility is repentance. You cannot be the master and ask someone for forgiveness. You cannot be arrogantly sorry. In order to ask for forgiveness you must subjugate yourself and your ego to the other. You have to dig deep within yourself and be truly honest in your assessment of your behavior. That’s what it means to be sincere. And once you see how you have hurt the other, you have to swallow your pride and ask for forgiveness, knowing full well that you may be rejected.
When we ask for forgiveness we are completely vulnerable. We are literally putting our heart in the other person’s hand, hoping that it won’t be stomped on, hoping we won’t be rejected. And sometimes we are. And even though we might think, “Well, God has forgiven me”, it still hurts, sometimes for years, sometimes for a lifetime.
Jesus told Peter that we must forgive our brother seventy times seven. What we must also do is repent seventy times seven. Just as we are called to forgive, we are also called to ask for forgiveness. I tell young parents that the most important thing they can do for their children is to forgive them. From the very beginning, forgive them. If only once do they come to you and say they’re sorry and you hesitate, or you offer some condition, or say, “I forgive you…but”, you have lost their trust. They need to trust that no matter what they do, you will accept them back. They must trust if they are to repent. They must trust in your forgiveness if they are to ever have hope. If they can’t trust in your forgiveness, how can they trust in their future spouse’s or even God’s? We all want to trust that we will be forgiven. Why wouldn’t you want people to trust in your forgiveness?
We act with humility when we forgive, just as it takes an act of humility to ask for forgiveness. Have you ever thought about how Jesus practiced humility? How could the all powerful God himself be humble? He did it by forgiving. He called everyone to repentance and then when they came to him he forgave them. Unconditionally. People trusted Jesus because he forgave. And he did more than that, he gave them proof that God forgives also. And he told us to do the same.
And so, for all the times I have acted arrogantly towards you, I am sorry.
For all the times I have acted flippantly and indifferently towards you and your situation, I am sorry.
For all the times I have used inappropriate language and jokes around you, I am sorry.
For all the times I have spoken without thinking, I am sorry.
For all the times I have not taken you seriously, I am sorry.
For all the times I have not truly listened to you, I am sorry.
For all the times I have failed to see your point of view, I am sorry.
For all the times I have thrown my authority around, I am sorry.
For all the times I have gotten on my soapbox and been holier-than-thou, I am sorry.
For all the times I have not returned your phone calls right away, I am sorry.
For all the times I’ve avoided you, I am sorry.
For all the times I have not been truthful with you, I am sorry.
For all the times I have not loved you as I should, I am sorry.
Ok, now it’s your turn.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Vanity, Thy Name Is...Me
18th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Cycle C
Most of us who are middle aged are sooner or later confronted with the reality of our parents’ dying. Oftentimes it is a long, slow, painful process, and we struggle to retain their, and our, dignity amongst all the medications and equipment and medical personnel and dirty linens and family squabbles and tears of joy and pain. But most of all we are forced to view our parents, the towering heroes of our youth, as fragile and weak and helpless. And we feel useless and the whole process seems to be in vain as we wrestle with our conflicting feelings. We wonder if it is all worth it, and we are humbled by the sight of what our loved ones have been reduced to.
But in the middle of the night, when we sit in vigil around the bedside, we are confronted by our thoughts and get ourselves focused on what is truly important in our lives, and it’s not all the things we thought were important before. All the peripheral stuff does seem to be vanity. It is our relationships that last. It is our relationships that give our lives meaning.
But I don’t agree with Qoheleth; all things in life are not vanity, and all things we possess are not empty and worthless. The treasures we store up most of all are our memories of those people and events that have formed us, both positively and negatively. Because it is through those experiences and the memories we have of them that we become the people we are today. That is how we grow in wisdom, because wisdom comes from learning from life’s experiences. We become wise when we use those experiences to improve on the way we treat other people. Wisdom helps us become better in our relationships and our relationships make us wise.
We all have possessions. The thing is not what we possess, but what possesses us. We know that it is so easy to receive the gifts but not the hand that offers them. I was visiting one of my little ladies at the nursing home the other day, and we were discussing how much things had changed for her since she had fallen and broken her hip. She no longer could do things for herself but needed help with even the simplest tasks. It was forcing her daughter to spend more and more time with her, and she felt guilty that she was taking her away from her family so much.
I asked her to think of when her children were little, of all she and her husband had sacrificed for them. I asked her to remember all the long nights sitting with them when they were scared or sick. I told her to recall all the times it was difficult to be parents, of all the joy and pain her children had given her. Was she ever resentful of those times? Did she love her children less because of them or did her sacrifice actually strengthen her love? Did she ever regret any time she was there to pick them up when they needed help? Of course not. Those times are often the ones she cherished the most. Why should she deny her daughter the same experience now?
Now her sacrifice for her children is to accept their help. The ultimate sacrifice we make is to submit to the fact that we need other people. We will all need to rely on our relationships at some time or other, when we are stripped of all the trappings of life and all we have is ourselves and those who love us. And we need to accept their help with humility and grace. Because they also have the need to help us. It’s not payback for all the times we helped them. No one’s keeping score. But we all have the deep seated need to sacrifice for those we love. Because we love them. We need to give and we need to receive with the same grace.
Someday it will be us in that bed and our families will be gathered around us in vigil. How we react to that situation will determine how well we die. In that way the gift and the reception of the gift are sacrament, and our death bed an altar.
I just read a book, Evidence of the Afterlife, written by Jeffrey Long, a medical doctor who claims to be an atheist. While in medical school he was struck by the fact that there had been no formal research done on near death experiences, and so he performed a ten year study on over six thousand people of all nations, races, ages and cultures who claimed to have had near death experiences and out-of-body experiences. One of his findings stood out to me. Virtually all the people who had what were considered true dying experiences, you know the white light, the tunnel, etc., also had an experience of a “judgment”. What they all had in common was that they saw their entire lives flash before their eyes in an instant, and what they saw was how all their actions and their inactions had affected other people. Even people who they didn’t really know very well were affected positively or negatively by what they themselves had done. It stunned many of them to see just how important other people were in their lives and how important they were in the lives of others.
We will be judged on our relationships. How we have treated other people, not on what we have accomplished nor on the legacies we have left behind. Jesus said so. It is not all in vain. Jesus said so. We all touch other people in ways we never even realize. We are all building storage facilities for the stuff that really matters, whether we are aware of it or not. Those storage facilities are the hearts of those we touch.
I was just in Las Vegas a week ago. The epitome of materialism. Just like the rich man in today’s parable, Vegas doesn’t remodel, they dramatically blow up the old and build something bigger and bolder in its place.
What is in your storehouses? Are they filled with pretty baubles and toys, thinking that’s what will be your legacy? If so, maybe you need to tear them down every once in a while and start over. Fill them with all those little things that affect others. The gentle smiles, the small hugs, the thoughtful cards, the simple kindnesses we do along with the great sacrifices we make that we may not realize mean the world to others.
It would be a shame for us to live our lives without ever storing up the things that build up relationships. But it would also be a shame for us to never stop and realize that we are doing it. We need to step back and take the time to examine our lives every once in awhile to acknowledge the good we have done and see the deficiencies. And see the hope in our lives.
It may be easier to give up like the fatalist Qoheleth, to see everything as shallow vanity. To live just for the moment’s pleasure. Or to see no purpose to life or death. I choose not to. Because you see, even though I said goodbye to my mother for the last time yesterday, I was godfather an hour ago to a beautiful baby boy and tomorrow I will baptize another. As long as that continues to happen, life will never be in vain.
Cycle C
Most of us who are middle aged are sooner or later confronted with the reality of our parents’ dying. Oftentimes it is a long, slow, painful process, and we struggle to retain their, and our, dignity amongst all the medications and equipment and medical personnel and dirty linens and family squabbles and tears of joy and pain. But most of all we are forced to view our parents, the towering heroes of our youth, as fragile and weak and helpless. And we feel useless and the whole process seems to be in vain as we wrestle with our conflicting feelings. We wonder if it is all worth it, and we are humbled by the sight of what our loved ones have been reduced to.
But in the middle of the night, when we sit in vigil around the bedside, we are confronted by our thoughts and get ourselves focused on what is truly important in our lives, and it’s not all the things we thought were important before. All the peripheral stuff does seem to be vanity. It is our relationships that last. It is our relationships that give our lives meaning.
But I don’t agree with Qoheleth; all things in life are not vanity, and all things we possess are not empty and worthless. The treasures we store up most of all are our memories of those people and events that have formed us, both positively and negatively. Because it is through those experiences and the memories we have of them that we become the people we are today. That is how we grow in wisdom, because wisdom comes from learning from life’s experiences. We become wise when we use those experiences to improve on the way we treat other people. Wisdom helps us become better in our relationships and our relationships make us wise.
We all have possessions. The thing is not what we possess, but what possesses us. We know that it is so easy to receive the gifts but not the hand that offers them. I was visiting one of my little ladies at the nursing home the other day, and we were discussing how much things had changed for her since she had fallen and broken her hip. She no longer could do things for herself but needed help with even the simplest tasks. It was forcing her daughter to spend more and more time with her, and she felt guilty that she was taking her away from her family so much.
I asked her to think of when her children were little, of all she and her husband had sacrificed for them. I asked her to remember all the long nights sitting with them when they were scared or sick. I told her to recall all the times it was difficult to be parents, of all the joy and pain her children had given her. Was she ever resentful of those times? Did she love her children less because of them or did her sacrifice actually strengthen her love? Did she ever regret any time she was there to pick them up when they needed help? Of course not. Those times are often the ones she cherished the most. Why should she deny her daughter the same experience now?
Now her sacrifice for her children is to accept their help. The ultimate sacrifice we make is to submit to the fact that we need other people. We will all need to rely on our relationships at some time or other, when we are stripped of all the trappings of life and all we have is ourselves and those who love us. And we need to accept their help with humility and grace. Because they also have the need to help us. It’s not payback for all the times we helped them. No one’s keeping score. But we all have the deep seated need to sacrifice for those we love. Because we love them. We need to give and we need to receive with the same grace.
Someday it will be us in that bed and our families will be gathered around us in vigil. How we react to that situation will determine how well we die. In that way the gift and the reception of the gift are sacrament, and our death bed an altar.
I just read a book, Evidence of the Afterlife, written by Jeffrey Long, a medical doctor who claims to be an atheist. While in medical school he was struck by the fact that there had been no formal research done on near death experiences, and so he performed a ten year study on over six thousand people of all nations, races, ages and cultures who claimed to have had near death experiences and out-of-body experiences. One of his findings stood out to me. Virtually all the people who had what were considered true dying experiences, you know the white light, the tunnel, etc., also had an experience of a “judgment”. What they all had in common was that they saw their entire lives flash before their eyes in an instant, and what they saw was how all their actions and their inactions had affected other people. Even people who they didn’t really know very well were affected positively or negatively by what they themselves had done. It stunned many of them to see just how important other people were in their lives and how important they were in the lives of others.
We will be judged on our relationships. How we have treated other people, not on what we have accomplished nor on the legacies we have left behind. Jesus said so. It is not all in vain. Jesus said so. We all touch other people in ways we never even realize. We are all building storage facilities for the stuff that really matters, whether we are aware of it or not. Those storage facilities are the hearts of those we touch.
I was just in Las Vegas a week ago. The epitome of materialism. Just like the rich man in today’s parable, Vegas doesn’t remodel, they dramatically blow up the old and build something bigger and bolder in its place.
What is in your storehouses? Are they filled with pretty baubles and toys, thinking that’s what will be your legacy? If so, maybe you need to tear them down every once in a while and start over. Fill them with all those little things that affect others. The gentle smiles, the small hugs, the thoughtful cards, the simple kindnesses we do along with the great sacrifices we make that we may not realize mean the world to others.
It would be a shame for us to live our lives without ever storing up the things that build up relationships. But it would also be a shame for us to never stop and realize that we are doing it. We need to step back and take the time to examine our lives every once in awhile to acknowledge the good we have done and see the deficiencies. And see the hope in our lives.
It may be easier to give up like the fatalist Qoheleth, to see everything as shallow vanity. To live just for the moment’s pleasure. Or to see no purpose to life or death. I choose not to. Because you see, even though I said goodbye to my mother for the last time yesterday, I was godfather an hour ago to a beautiful baby boy and tomorrow I will baptize another. As long as that continues to happen, life will never be in vain.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Get Off Your Donkey!
15th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Cycle C
Dt 30:10-14
Col 1:15-20
Lk 10:25-37
There were two men, Harry and Charlie, who were great friends and avid golfers. Every Tuesday for twenty years they had a regular tee time at a local course, and they rarely missed it. One morning, just as they were finishing the 4th hole, Charlie grabbed his chest and fell down dead of a massive heart attack. When Harry arrived home he told his wife about the harrowing ordeal. "Oh, that must have been terrible," she said. “Yes, it was one of the hardest things I’ve had to endure in my entire life, he said. “All day long it was, hit the ball, drag Charlie, hit the ball, drag Charlie.”
I think many times in our lives it’s “Hit the ball, drag Jesus. Hit the ball, drag Jesus.” We say we love him with our whole hearts, but sometimes our hearts are more into our jobs or our entertainments. And so we drag Jesus. We say we love him with our whole being, but sometimes our being is more centered on ourselves. And so we drag Jesus. We say we love him with all our strength, but usually we rely more on our own abilities than on trusting completely in God. And so we drag Jesus. We say we love him with all our mind, but we’ve got so much to think about that we forget about God sometimes. And so we drag Jesus.
You know, it’s hard work to drag Jesus. It’s hard work to rationalize inaction. We really have to think about it. Like the lawyer in today’s gospel we try to justify ourselves when confronted with moral truth. The man was a lawyer, and it was a lawyer’s job to study stuff. He knew in his head what he needed to do, and he knew all the right things to say, but he was looking for a rationalization for not doing it. I know what it says in the book, but…There’s always a but in there somewhere.
We know what to do but we fight it. As Moses said, it is very near to us, already in our mouths and in our hearts; we have only to carry it out. We talk the talk but don’t walk the walk. We look for ways to avoid doing what we know is right because it’s inconvenient or hard for us to do.
When’s the last time you had to rationalize doing something good?
The natural thing to do is to act with compassion, because that’s how God made us. Like him. Jesus didn’t have to think about it when he healed someone. He just did it. Do you think the priest or the Levite would have hesitated to help if the victim had been one of their own children? If we spent as much time acting with compassion as we do in trying to figure ways to avoid it, how much easier our lives would be. What a waste of energy.
This parable is not a warm and fuzzy, lovey dovey one. It’s all about action. The priest was of the ruling class, a politician, and he knew that if word got out that he had helped a foreigner he would have big political problems. He might even lose his position and status. So he rationalized that his politics were more important than mercy - and he moved on. The Levite was one who served in the temple, and if he touched the Samaritan it would make him impure. He would have to go through an elaborate cleansing ritual before he could serve in the temple again, so he rationalized that his religion was more important than mercy - and he moved on. The Samaritan was the only one who got off his…donkey and did something about it. Without thinking of the consequences. He did what came naturally and both he and the victim were saved.
Jesus didn’t say “the neighbor to the man was the one who studied the Talmud more or who prayed for the victim”. He said the neighbor was the one who actually did something about his situation. Studying and praying are what we do to lay the foundation for our action. Jesus spent a lot of time praying and studying and preparing for his ministry, but he acted upon that preparation. You may be the most pius, prayerful person in the world, but if you don’t act on it with compassion you’re a fraud.
“You shall love the Lord, your God,
With all your heart,
With all your being
With all your strength,
And with all your mind,
And your neighbor as yourself.”
Why does God want us to love him like this? Because that’s the way he loves us. Switch it around a bit: The Lord, your God loves you, his creature, with all his heart, with all his being, with all his strength and with all his mind, and all he asks in return is that you treat other people in the same way.
How do we know that God loves like this? Because Jesus loves like this. We have proof of his love in the Gospels. Jesus is the Good Samaritan. He loved everyone with his whole heart, being, strength and mind, and he loved his neighbor more than he loved himself. He loved us so much that he died for us. That’s how we know.
Moses tells the people today that it’s not all that complicated. The law of love we are to live by isn’t something that’s written in the stars or is in need of someone to come and explain it to us. The lawyer knew the answer to his question before he asked it, just as we all know deep down how we are supposed to act and feel towards God and our neighbor. If we are created in the image of God we have that knowledge put in our consciences at our conception. All we do with our religion is to deepen our understanding of it and carry it out in our lives.
And it is a simple thing to do. If we have our focus on God, we don’t have to worry about having our focus on our neighbor. If we love our neighbor we don’t have to worry about loving God. They’re both the same thing. You can’t love God and not love your neighbor and you can’t love your neighbor without loving God. Love is one, just as God is one. Anytime we love we are in God and God is in us.
But we’ve got to get off our donkeys and do something with it.
Cycle C
Dt 30:10-14
Col 1:15-20
Lk 10:25-37
There were two men, Harry and Charlie, who were great friends and avid golfers. Every Tuesday for twenty years they had a regular tee time at a local course, and they rarely missed it. One morning, just as they were finishing the 4th hole, Charlie grabbed his chest and fell down dead of a massive heart attack. When Harry arrived home he told his wife about the harrowing ordeal. "Oh, that must have been terrible," she said. “Yes, it was one of the hardest things I’ve had to endure in my entire life, he said. “All day long it was, hit the ball, drag Charlie, hit the ball, drag Charlie.”
I think many times in our lives it’s “Hit the ball, drag Jesus. Hit the ball, drag Jesus.” We say we love him with our whole hearts, but sometimes our hearts are more into our jobs or our entertainments. And so we drag Jesus. We say we love him with our whole being, but sometimes our being is more centered on ourselves. And so we drag Jesus. We say we love him with all our strength, but usually we rely more on our own abilities than on trusting completely in God. And so we drag Jesus. We say we love him with all our mind, but we’ve got so much to think about that we forget about God sometimes. And so we drag Jesus.
You know, it’s hard work to drag Jesus. It’s hard work to rationalize inaction. We really have to think about it. Like the lawyer in today’s gospel we try to justify ourselves when confronted with moral truth. The man was a lawyer, and it was a lawyer’s job to study stuff. He knew in his head what he needed to do, and he knew all the right things to say, but he was looking for a rationalization for not doing it. I know what it says in the book, but…There’s always a but in there somewhere.
We know what to do but we fight it. As Moses said, it is very near to us, already in our mouths and in our hearts; we have only to carry it out. We talk the talk but don’t walk the walk. We look for ways to avoid doing what we know is right because it’s inconvenient or hard for us to do.
When’s the last time you had to rationalize doing something good?
The natural thing to do is to act with compassion, because that’s how God made us. Like him. Jesus didn’t have to think about it when he healed someone. He just did it. Do you think the priest or the Levite would have hesitated to help if the victim had been one of their own children? If we spent as much time acting with compassion as we do in trying to figure ways to avoid it, how much easier our lives would be. What a waste of energy.
This parable is not a warm and fuzzy, lovey dovey one. It’s all about action. The priest was of the ruling class, a politician, and he knew that if word got out that he had helped a foreigner he would have big political problems. He might even lose his position and status. So he rationalized that his politics were more important than mercy - and he moved on. The Levite was one who served in the temple, and if he touched the Samaritan it would make him impure. He would have to go through an elaborate cleansing ritual before he could serve in the temple again, so he rationalized that his religion was more important than mercy - and he moved on. The Samaritan was the only one who got off his…donkey and did something about it. Without thinking of the consequences. He did what came naturally and both he and the victim were saved.
Jesus didn’t say “the neighbor to the man was the one who studied the Talmud more or who prayed for the victim”. He said the neighbor was the one who actually did something about his situation. Studying and praying are what we do to lay the foundation for our action. Jesus spent a lot of time praying and studying and preparing for his ministry, but he acted upon that preparation. You may be the most pius, prayerful person in the world, but if you don’t act on it with compassion you’re a fraud.
“You shall love the Lord, your God,
With all your heart,
With all your being
With all your strength,
And with all your mind,
And your neighbor as yourself.”
Why does God want us to love him like this? Because that’s the way he loves us. Switch it around a bit: The Lord, your God loves you, his creature, with all his heart, with all his being, with all his strength and with all his mind, and all he asks in return is that you treat other people in the same way.
How do we know that God loves like this? Because Jesus loves like this. We have proof of his love in the Gospels. Jesus is the Good Samaritan. He loved everyone with his whole heart, being, strength and mind, and he loved his neighbor more than he loved himself. He loved us so much that he died for us. That’s how we know.
Moses tells the people today that it’s not all that complicated. The law of love we are to live by isn’t something that’s written in the stars or is in need of someone to come and explain it to us. The lawyer knew the answer to his question before he asked it, just as we all know deep down how we are supposed to act and feel towards God and our neighbor. If we are created in the image of God we have that knowledge put in our consciences at our conception. All we do with our religion is to deepen our understanding of it and carry it out in our lives.
And it is a simple thing to do. If we have our focus on God, we don’t have to worry about having our focus on our neighbor. If we love our neighbor we don’t have to worry about loving God. They’re both the same thing. You can’t love God and not love your neighbor and you can’t love your neighbor without loving God. Love is one, just as God is one. Anytime we love we are in God and God is in us.
But we’ve got to get off our donkeys and do something with it.
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