Sunday, July 31, 2011

Vanity

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.

Saturday, July 16, 2011

Seeds of Justice

16th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle A

Ws 12:13, 16-19

Ps 86

Rom 8:26-27

Mt 13:24-43

Why do you come here and not to some other church? Why St. Mary’s and not St. Ann’s or St. Ambrose, or Shepherd of the Mountains or St. Luke’s? Most likely it is because you like the people. And most likely you like the people because someone has been kind to you here. Kindnesses are the little things we do for people just because we like them or respect them or care about them.

And we also perform little kindnesses to people we don’t even know all the time, don’t we? We hold the door open for them, we smile at them in the checkout line, we make a comment about how beautiful their baby is. We don’t do these little things because we want something in return. We do them just because that’s how we treat other human beings, just because they are human beings. We don’t even think about it, we just do it.

We hear in the book of wisdom today that justice is played out as kindness. We hear a lot about social justice these days, and not just in the religious sense. The big budget battles going on in Washington lately are couched in the language of social justice. What is fair. But justice is not fairness. It’s not about leveling the playing field or taking from the rich to give to the poor. True justice means giving all people what they are entitled to, just because they are human beings with inherent dignity. We tend to think of justice in terms of crime and punishment, but to God, justice is simply treating you as his child, just because you are his child. And because you are his child you enjoy certain rights and are bound by certain responsibilities.

And just because you think you have a right to do something does not make it just. Justice is allowing you to live the way you were intended to live. Just because you want to live a certain way doesn’t mean you were meant to live that way. Just because you want to do it does not make it right. And so sometimes justice seems unfair, because we don’t always want to live as we were meant to. Sometimes justice means we have to say no. Sometimes justice means someone needs to tell us no.

What makes a person kind? I think the thing people desire most is to feel that they are special and appreciated. We are kind when or actions make people feel that way. Most of us don’t go around working for the great causes of justice, but the mustard seeds of justice are the little kindnesses we do for other people. We can protest on the steps of the capitol, or pray in front of the abortion clinic, but it is kindness that changes people hearts. We change the world when we change the individual human heart. And we do that through kindness.

Have you ever had someone’s kindness to you affect your entire day? Has someone ever said or done something to you that just made you feel good about yourself, and changed your outlook on the day? Have you seen the commercials that show people in a city going about their day and one person does something to help a stranger, like pick up a dropped package or something, and then that person helps another person, and that one helps someone else, until finally it comes back around so that someone is nice to the first person who started it all? Paying it forward? That’s how grace works. That’s how our faith is lived out each day. Yes, we are called to stand up against the great evils of the day, but we act most like God when we do simple kindnesses for people.

These little kindnesses are the mustard seeds of justice. If we see the person in the checkout line as someone worthy of respect just because they are them, it makes it easier to make those bigger, tougher decisions later on, even reaching up to Capitol Hill. Social justice literally begins at home. And if kindness is the way we bring forth justice then we must begin by being kind to those closest to us. There are two types of kindness, active and passive. The greatest active kindness we do is to pray for the needs of others. Then there are the little kindnesses we do for those we love. We bring our spouse a cup of coffee in the morning; we pick up after our kids without complaining; we hold the door for someone at the office. But kindness can also be what we don’t do. We don’t blow up when our teenager comes home after curfew. We patiently wait for our wives to put on their makeup. We have compassion and understanding for the friend who is having a hard day.

It may be the small gestures that help us build our faith, too. We all have faith that began small. Grace is like that. The grace we are given never really goes away. It stays in us, and, like yeast, can cause the entirety of our faith to grow. We have no way of knowing if something that was given to us very early on is what we need today in order to make correct decisions.

That’s one reason we baptize infants. Something profound happens to our souls when we are baptized, and God’s grace enters into our lives in a very special way. A baby is incapable of sinning, however, by wiping away original sin God allows his grace to affect us, so that as we grow we will be more able to make correct decisions. The seeds planted in us as children affect the decisions we make as teenagers and adults.

A life of virtue is made up of thousands of small virtuous decisions, just as a life of evil is made up of thousands of incorrect decisions. Just as faith starts out as a very small seed, an idea planted in our hearts which can then affect our entire lives and the lives of the entire human race, so too evil. People are not born evil, we are all born good, and rarely do people make the decision to act evilly all at once in a big way. You don’t just wake up one day and decide to kill someone. Instead, we make decision upon decision upon decision throughout our lives, often beginning as children, that bring us to an evil, or good end.

Faith starts with a very small idea, and then affects all our other ideas as well. Someone once said that there is nothing more powerful in the world than an idea whose time has come. I’d say that there is nothing more powerful than a single person’s faith. The faith of one person affects their entire family, their workplace, their neighborhood, town, and nation. And I think that is the message of hope we hold for the world. Because while that yeast is only a fraction of the ingredients used in the bread, it causes the entire loaf of dough to rise. The world seems to be growing more and more indifferent to God every day. The rest of the dough isn’t very good, but all it takes is us, that small measure of yeast, to help it all to rise. Do you know that there is a bakery in San Francisco that has been making sourdough bread with the same hunk of mother yeast for the past 100 years! The yeast even gives rise to itself, and they keep it in a special refrigerator under lock and key, because without that special yeast the bread would not have its particular taste and texture.

The Church is like that. Though the dough of the world has been mostly poor throughout history, the yeast of the Church has helped it to rise. We must guard it and cherish it and protect it so that it can continue to give mankind its special taste and texture. Our yeast is what God uses to bring justice to the world.

Christians are like mustard seeds. We can and are the yeast for the entire world. The world is a big place, but our faith can raise up the entire world, even if there are only a few of us left. Remember, Jesus started with twelve.

Jesus was kind. If you think back about all he did in his life what he really was was a kind man. He did things, great and small, for other people just because they deserved it simply because they were his children. Pope Paul VI said if you want peace work for justice. I will add, and do it by being kind to one another.

Margaret Mead said, "Never doubt that small groups of thoughtful committed citizens can change the world; indeed it's the only thing that ever has." We can change the world, one heart at a time. And the first heart that must change is my own.

Sunday, June 26, 2011

Eucharistic Rant

Feast of the Body and Blood of Christ

Cycle A

Jesus says in John’s gospel that if we are to be his friends, we will keep his commandments. And he didn’t have very many of them. Love one another as I have loved you. Go and make disciples of all nations. Do this in memory of me. How many of your friends put that condition on your friendship? If you are my friend you’ll do as I command you. I imagine none of them do. But none of our other friends has the authority to command us. None of our other friends is our Lord and Savior. Jesus’ commands are reasonable because of what he offers us in return.

Today is the feast of the Body and Blood of Christ. Corpus Christi. And so it’s time to take a look at that final commandment of Jesus. Do this in memory of me. He didn’t say to just think of him from time to time. He said to do this. Perform the supper of the new covenant, just like he did with his friends. In other words, come to Mass. To Jesus it isn’t an option. He’s very clear about it in today’s gospel. "Amen, amen, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have life within you.” Not even a little bit, Jesus? What if I go out into the mountains on my bike on Sundays? Isn’t communing with your creation enough? No life? That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it? I mean, I’m spiritual, just not religious. Do I have to have a religion to have life?

And he also said that “For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink.” You mean it’s real? Not just a symbol? And if I don’t eat and drink I won’t have eternal life? We can look at it as a negative, “If I don’t do it then I won’t have life.” Or we can see it as a wonderful gift, “I actually get to receive Jesus physically into my body and soul.” Going to Mass shouldn’t be an obligation; it should be something we long to do, joyfully.

It’s easy to take it for granted. Most of us have been coming to Mass our entire lives. We received our first communion in second grade. And so we can tend to lose sight of the life-changing capability of the Eucharist. I have actually seen people coming up to communion with tears streaming down their faces, because they had not been receiving the Eucharist for a long time for some reason or other, and now they’re back. I have seen the longing in the hearts of our catechumens as they prepare to be in full communion with us, wanting so badly to receive the Body and Blood of Christ. They see us mechanically shuffle up the aisle and want to shout out, “Don’t you realize what you are being given the privilege to do?” I wonder how we would view the Eucharist if we were deprived of it for awhile. Would we appreciate it more?

We have been given a great gift. Our God has chosen to give us his very self in the form of bread and wine. We have been given the chance to share so fully in our Lord that we actually become what we eat. We have the chance to literally become Christ to the world. I think some of us have lost sight of the wonderfulness of that gift. You know that almost 30% of American Catholics don’t believe that the Eucharist is actually the body and blood of Christ, but only a symbol? When did it change? Is it simply a lack of education or is it easier for us to believe the symbol over the reality? If it’s just a symbol then we are just remembering something that happened 2000 years ago. It’s nice, but there’s no challenge for our lives. We really don’t have to do anything. But if the Eucharist is truly Christ present to us and in us, then we are forced to see things differently. We are forced to conform our lives to that of Christ, and that’s sometimes scary and challenging.

What would you do if Jesus was standing right here this morning? How would you act? How would you dress? How would you approach him? Would you wear ratty clothes, and shuffle up to him while chewing gum? Would you pass him by without acknowledging his presence? Probably not. We wouldn’t even do that if some senator or congressman or other dignitary was here. But we do it all the time with Jesus. Because Jesus is right here, physically present to us. We approach him every Sunday, and oftentimes too casually.

Why do we have a certain way we approach the Lord in Holy Communion? Is it because some old white guys with too much free time on their hands have come up with all these silly rules for us to follow? Or is it because we really should show a certain level of seriousness and respect when receiving Him? We have a responsibility to protect and honor the Eucharist. We don’t and can’t take it lightly. And it is the responsibility of the Church to help us understand what it’s all about and how to prepare ourselves to receive Jesus.

I was talking to a friend of mine the other day and for some reason the subject of fasting for an hour before receiving communion came up. He was surprised that that rule was still in effect. “What are we, still in the Dark Ages?” he asked me. I guess he really didn’t understand why we would fast. The Eucharist never changes, so why should how we treat it change? Are we so sophisticated and evolved today that we don’t need to act any differently around Jesus? Are we that arrogant? Or have we just become indifferent?

Someone once told me that the Mass is not a sit down dinner, but a potluck. In a sit down dinner we come to be served and waited upon. We are there to experience the meal and enjoy it. It happens to us. In a potluck we are actively involved in preparing and serving it to others. We bring our best dish to it, the one we’re most proud of and that everyone enjoys. And if someone doesn’t bring a dish there may not be enough for all. The meal is incomplete. We are not served in a potluck; instead we serve. If you come here and just sit there and take it all in, or parts of it when you aren’t looking out the window or reading the bulletin, then you’ll never get the true meaning of Eucharist and communion. When you take part in preparing the meal, you understand what it’s all about and what goes into it and why we do it. If you just come in and expect to be served or entertained then you never get below the surface and you cannot be transformed by it. And the liturgy suffers because you are there to take and not to give.

And part of that preparation is preparing ourselves to take part in it. Just as we would dress properly if Jesus were coming to dinner, we would also be sure that our souls were properly disposed. Just as many people think that the one hour fast prior to Mass is a thing of the past, they think they can come to communion just any old way also, with all their sins unforgiven. We are all called to come before the Lord to receive him in holiness. And that means without having any serious sin on our souls. Yes, that means going to confession, but it also means that we strive to make our entire lives holy. To be constantly in a state of grace. It’s not just a ticket we punch in order to receive communion worthily. It’s understanding what we are really doing here and naturally wanting to be ok with God in order to become one with him.

For the past twenty years there has been a movement in the Evangelical Protestant churches to build mega churches, those that seat thousands and have everything from snack bars to free child care, with rock bands and computerized audio visual systems. Jesus as entertainment. And for many years these churches grew and thrived, especially among the younger, digital generation. But recently these churches have seen a steep decline in membership. Because it’s not about entertainment. It’s not about going to get what you need. It’s about Jesus. We come to worship God because that’s what we were created to do. Not to be entertained. There is a great herd of people who bounce from church to church, preacher to preacher, searching for their needs to be filled. But it’s not about their needs, it’s about the needs of others. It’s about Eucharist. We come here to be fed and refreshed, but only so we can then take that food out into the world to radically transform it. If you are looking for fulfillment outside of receiving the actual body and blood of Christ you will never find it. You will never have life within you unless you do. Because the Eucharist isn’t something we do, the Eucharist is who we are. No Eucharist, no church. No church, no Eucharist.

A big complaint about the liturgy in the past forty years is that there is a lack of solemnity and reverence. And I agree with that. We act much more respectfully in a library than we do in a church. That’s one reason some people have been pushing for a return to the Latin Mass, because there was a sense of the awesome, of the transcendant, that seems to be missing now. That’s one way to try to get it back. Another way, one I think is much more effective and life-changing, is if we all really understood what we are doing here, and take an active part in worshiping.

In Sacrosanctum Concilium, the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy from Vatican II, it states that the people are all called to full, active, and conscious participation in the liturgy, the Mass. We are not spectators here, but active participants. In fact, one of the four ways Jesus is present in the Mass is in the community. No community, no Mass. And it says participation, not observation. We are called to be active in the Mass. One way that action manifests itself is in the number and types of ministries in the Mass – Eucharistic ministers, lectors, ushers, altar servers, choir members. But that doesn’t let the rest of us off the hook. This isn’t a concert, it’s a sing along. The prayers we say don’t just wash over us, we all say them together, in one loud, holy noise. Actively praying in community means our lips should be moving; we’re not just following along in our heads. And we need to be consciously aware of what we are doing and why we are doing it.

Some of you may be annoyed by my little rant here this morning. It may make you uncomfortable. Every once in awhile we need to take stock of the important things in our lives, and today’s feast is a good time to do so with our Eucharistic lives. We can choose to go along as we have been, or we can try to be better disciples. Remember that immediately after Jesus said these words to his disciples, all but 12 left him. They couldn’t take it. It was too hard for them to understand and to carry out. And so they left him. We are faced with the same hard choice today. Jesus is pretty clear on this. And just as he didn’t go running after those who left and say, “You know, you’re right. I’m just being symbolic. I’m using a figure of speech. I’m just issuing you some guidelines. Come on back.” He won’t change his commandments just because they don’t fit into our lifestyles. It’s us he challenges to change.

He asked the twelve, “Will you also leave?” St. Peter replied, “Lord, to whom shall we go?”

To whom shall we go?