Be Amazed

 

4^th Sunday of Easter

Cycle B

The headlines screamed “Americans' membership in houses of worship dropped below 50% for the first time!” I read the article and it saddened me. Then I got angry. Some news outlets reported it almost gleefully. The Gallup poll showed that in 2020, 47% of U.S. adults belonged to a church, synagogue or mosque, down more than 20 points from the turn of the century. This change is primarily due to the rise in Americans with no religious preference.

Among religious groups, the decline in membership is steeper among Catholics (down 18 points, from 76% to 58%) than Protestants (down nine points, from 73% to 64%). This mirrors the historical changes in church attendance Gallup has documented among Catholics, with sharp declines among Catholics but not among Protestants. 

 

Also, each generation has seen a decline in church membership among those who do affiliate with a specific religion. That’s significant. It makes sense that those who say they have no faith wouldn’t come to church, but now people who claim to have faith no longer go to church. Church membership is strongly correlated with age, as 66% of traditionalists -- U.S. adults born before 1946 -- belong to a church, compared with 58% of baby boomers, 50% of those in Generation X and 36% of millennials. Let that sink in for a minute. It gets worse the younger the population. According to this survey the future of the Church in America is looking bleak. At the least it is a wake up call to us all.

 

In a few weeks we will celebrate the Feast of the Ascension, and we will hear, once again, the great commission that Jesus gave his disciples to go and make disciples of all the nations, teaching them everything he has commanded us. For centuries we did just that. We went to far flung lands and suffered great hardships and martyrdom to bring the truth of salvation through Jesus Christ to whomever would listen. This great nation began as a mission field and was founded on Judeo Christian principles. It’s amazing what has changed in just the past 20 years. What began as a trickle has become a race to the doors, and we’re seeing it most in young people.

 

It seems that we Boomers have done a poor job of making disciples, not just of all nations, but of our own children. We seem to have bought into the conventional wisdom that it really doesn’t matter what someone believes; that there is not one true faith or one true church. I hear it from Christians all the time. That is not a belief that inspires people to join, is it? And our voices are drowned out by those who claim that religion is intolerant or even oppressive. There is no God, they say, there is no absolute truth, just your truth and my truth, and everyone is basically a good person anyway. Heck, as long as they go to some church it’s better than nothing, right. Well, it turns out that more and more people are choosing the nothing. And we have no answer. But we do have hope.

 

Our most recent class of catechumens were all Milennials and Gen Yers. As you know it’s a bit of a process to become Catholic as an adult, yet every year people are called to the Church by the Holy Spirit. Every year we hold a retreat just before they are to be baptized, and during that retreat we revisit the reasons they are choosing to become Catholic. This year there were some interesting reasons. One theme that came out is that all of them have small children or were expecting their first child. All of them said, independently, that they wanted to become Catholic to try to reverse the trend away from faith and non-belief with their children, because they see what that is doing to our society. They are frightened of the world their children might inherit. They want their children to have the faith they have come to know and love. They want to give their children a fighting chance at salvation. They want them to know Jesus. They want to reconnect with the rich tradition of the Church and give their children the values of a Christian life. But most importantly, they wanted to become Catholic because they had come to believe that it is the truth.

 

Those survey results are misleading because they are superficial and do not delve into the reasons why, but they also only give part of the picture. There is nothing about the resurgence of belief and piety among the younger population, those in their 20s and early 30s. Young people and young families are returning. Our newly baptized members are not unique in their hopes for their children. There is a hunger for meaning and purpose in our youth, and they are seeking the truth.

 

St. Peter says today that there is no salvation through anyone other than Jesus Christ, nor is there any other name under heaven given to the human race by which we are to be saved. Do you believe that? Jesus claims to be the way, the truth and the life. Not a way, a truth or a life. That’s a very bold claim, and we hear today that that is exactly how the church, from it’s very beginning, thought of Jesus and of itself. That is the faith that has been handed on to us two millenia hence.

 

Do you believe that? Do you believe there is something uniquely true about the Catholic faith? Is that why you are still here? Is that what you are teaching your children, no matter how old they are? Do you have the courage to state your beliefs when you know now that half the population does not share them? As the community of believers continues to shrink it will take more courage to keep, grow and share our own faith.

 

What has happened in the past 20 years that has changed the belief of the rank and file Christians so? There are so many causes, too many to talk about in a single homily. I believe that it is not just the pressures of a secular society on faith in God, we have lost a sense of sin in general and therefore there is nothing seen to be saved from. By blurring the lines of what is and isn’t sinful, the evil one has brilliantly removed our belief in the necessity of salvation. And if there is no need for salvation there is no need to believe in a God at all. But human nature requires a supreme being, so we replace that belief in God with belief in ourselves. Why would we need to be saved from ourselves?

 

And beyond that, I believe we have lost a sense of the transcendent, of the wonder of our God and how special we are to him. I believe that we can begin to reclaim our faith, begin to make disciples again, by focusing on the wonderful transcendent beauty of God, of the church he established, and of ourselves.

 

St. John says today, “How wonderful that we are called children of God. But that is what we are.” What does that mean for you personally and for society as a whole? We are so much more than just actors on a stage. Without a connection to a supreme being who is seen as a loving father – much more, love itself – we see the divisions and destruction that seem to be accelerating more rapidly every day. Without hope in something more, something other than ourselves and this life on earth, we see life without meaning, steeped in selfishness, and without real connections with other people.

 

The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him. Maybe the reason the world does not know us is because we do not know him either.

 

Do you know that you are wonderfully made? Do you know the truth that Jesus Christ died for you and your sins so that you could be free from the slavery sin places you in? Do you know that Jesus rose from the dead and in doing so destroyed your death as well? Do you live in the hope that you will someday be just as Jesus is? Do you know that on that day you will know God just as you are known by God?

 

You may have heard that message before many times in your life, but have your children? You may have heard that message many times in your life, but have you really understood it? Have you believed it? Have you been amazed by it? That amazement is what makes disciples. That amazement is attractive and contagious and life changing. The apostles were amazed and overjoyed when they saw the Lord that Easter. It was that amazement, powered by the Holy Spirit, that gave those simple fishermen the courage and conviction to go and begin to make disciples of all the nations, and they changed the world forever.

 

Reclaim the wonder. Reconnect to the beauty of creation and of the creator, of humanity, and of yourself. Experience the beauty and majesty of the church, it’s art and architecture intended to help you image the eternal. Enter into the mystery through the sacraments of the church, especially Christ’s passion, death and resurrection during the Mass. Really study, wrestle with, and be changed by the teachings of the church and be inspired by scripture. Connect with your fellow disciples and reach out to those who really need your help, both physically and spiritually, wherever they may be. Especially in your family.

 

Allow yourself to be amazed. And then tell somebody about it.

 

Open My Eyes

 

4^th Sunday of Lent

Cycle B – Scrutiny

 

What would it be like to be born blind? What would life be like if we never had experienced light, with nothing to compare the darkness to?

 

We equate darkness with evil. We call Satan the Prince of Darkness, and we fear the dark. Because we can see we feel uncomfortable in the dark. We fear the unknown, we fear what we cannot control. We’re afraid we’ll stumble and fall in the dark. Darkness is frightening for us only because we know the difference between light and darkness. If we were born blind we would never have experienced light, so darkness would hold no fear for us. For one born blind, who has never experienced the light, stumbling and falling is a natural thing. Relying on the help of others is a requirement for survival.

 

This gospel begins with Jesus’ own disciples asking a question based upon a belief all Jews had at the time – that physical weakness and disease meant you or your family were steeped in sin. If you were a sinner God punished you with infirmity. If you were righteous you were healthy, wealthy and wise. Everybody believed this: the Pharisees did, the disciples did, and the blind man himself did.

 

The blind man could not enter the temple. Everybody said he shouldn’t be there, and he himself thought he shouldn’t be there. He also thought he was unworthy to be in the presence of God, just because he was blind. He was reduced to begging at the door. The people who passed him every day saw him as unworthy, beneath them, worthless to God and man. And so he saw himself as unworthy and worthless. How could he ever become worthy? How could he ever come in out of the darkness and be included among the seeing?

 

The saddest thing about the blind man is that he bought into his culture’s prejudices and allowed them to make him feel less about himself, to alienate himself from God and his community. Even today, we can allow outside influences to keep us from God. We can beat ourselves up so much that we actually stay away from God. How wretched you must feel to keep yourself from God. Have you ever not come to Mass because you felt unworthy? Or stayed away because you were not in the “right frame of mind” to receive the Eucharist; that you just didn’t think you could come to Mass with all those people there and try to pretend that everything was ok? Why just go through the motions?

 

Do you think that you shouldn’t come to Mass if you haven’t exactly been living a perfect Christian life lately? I mean, why add one more hypocrite to the mix? Do you think that you have to have it all together in order to worship the Lord? I’m not perfect, so I’ll stay away. Does Jesus really only call the righteous? If that were the case there’d be no one here. It’s sort of like saying that I’m starving, so I really shouldn’t come to the banquet. The very thing you think you should avoid is the thing you really need. Sometimes we blind ourselves to what we’re really doing here.

 

It’s ironic that the best way to become worthy of the Eucharist is to experience the Eucharist. None of us can ever make ourselves worthy of being here. If blindness is equated with sinfulness, then we’re all born blind, aren’t we? Only God can make us worthy, just by willing it so. So we have a choice, to beat ourselves up for not being worthy or to accept the grace of God that allows us to see. To exclude ourselves from the banquet or to humbly accept the invitation.

 

Today we hear a story that closely parallels those of our elect who are here with us this morning. Like the blind man, they’re on the outside looking in. Not really sure what they’re seeing. Jesus calls them forth. He makes them uncomfortable at times and calls them to the waters. They do not know the way, so others need to help them get there .When their eyes are opened, they still are not sure exactly who Jesus is, even when he is right in front of them. They come up against opposition. The entrenched prejudices of others try to derail their journey. Sometimes they are thrown out. Sometimes others try to keep them in their places. Finally, Jesus comes to them in the light and they recognize him for who he is. They have become his disciples.

 

It’s funny, isn’t it, that the ones who thought they were worthy – the Pharisees – were the ones that Jesus said were blind. Their sin was their prejudice against people like the blind man, people they thought were sinners. They could not see their own shortcomings, and that we’re all blind in one way or another. And I am blind about many, many things. I am blind to the plight of the poor because I have never gone hungry in my life. I am blind to prejudice because I have never really experienced it personally. I am blind to the hurts suffered by other people because I am so focused on my own.

I guess in many ways we’re all Pharisees; we’re the good church going folks who think we have all the answers. We’re the ones who go along with the conventional wisdom of our day, blinded to how we are actually making things worse in our ignorance.

 

This morning we are celebrating the second scrutiny for our elect. We’re not here to scrutinize them. They’re here to scrutinize themselves. We all need to scrutinize ourselves. That scrutiny can be painful, but it must be undertaken with open eyes. Only then can we remove the blindness from our hearts. Blindness to our own sinfulness, and blindness to the needs of others, no matter how sinful they have been.

In many ways these elect see more than we do. They hunger for the light that we take so easily for granted, and they don’t have all the barnacles we good Pharisees have built up on our carcasses over time. But just as they have needed our help to see from time to time, we too can draw on their light as we all stumble together towards our Lord.

 

Open my eyes, Lord. Help me to see your face… in everyone. Open my eyes, Lord. Help me to see.

 

Falling in Love with Jesus

 

3^rd Sunday of Lent (Scrutiny)

This is a love story.

This is the story of all of us, but in particular, it is the story of our elect with us today who have been searching, praying, and drawing closer to Jesus these past several months. And that is why we have read these readings today, because we have our elect present. At all the other Masses today we will hear different readings, but the Church says we must read these readings today, for them to hear, because they are nearing the completion of this stage of their faith journey, to enter fully into the life and love of Jesus in his Church through baptism, confirmation and first eucharist at the Easter Vigil.

Many people think that the RCIA program is all about knowledge, all about learning about the Catholic Church, and partly it is. But mostly, it is about falling in love. There are lots of people who have knowledge of the Church and its teachings, but not a lot of us are actually in love with it. There are lots of people who have a rudimentary knowledge of Jesus, but not a lot of us are actually in love with Him. Because knowledge is not enough.

Unless we move beyond just knowledge to love, our faith will never be fulfilled. It is through reason that we understand with the head. It is through prayer and contemplation and worship that we understand with the heart. If all you have is book learning then your faith has no motivation. If all you have is emotion, your faith has no roots. It is like the person Jesus said builds his house on sand. When trials and tribulations blow there is no conviction there to keep it from being torn down.

Just like there are stages of grief, there are stages of love. And the woman at the well goes through all of them. This seems almost like a sparring match, sort of like an old romantic movie. There’s a chemistry between Jesus and the woman, a reaching out, a pushing back, and gradually the woman comes closer to Jesus who is calling her to conversion.

First there is a connection. Sometimes it’s a strong attraction and sometimes it’s tentative. This is followed by a mutual give and take where both people reveal things about themselves over time. This either leads to a stronger attraction and more revelation that leads to knowledge of the other, and a growing sense of trust. Only after trust is established can love truly happen.

The woman at the well came to love Jesus only after he “told me everything I have ever done”. But that was not what turned her heart. Everyone in her village knew her past. It was the fact that even though he had such intimate knowledge of her and her life, he did not judge her for it like her neighbors did. Instead, he offered her eternal life. How liberating that must have felt for someone who felt so ostracized and worthless that she had to go to the well in the middle of the hot day, when no other people were expected to be there! Jesus gave her back her dignity. He spoke to her when he wasn’t supposed to. He conversed with her as an equal, without looking down on her. And he offered her himself, the life-giving water that would change her life forever.

And like anyone who has fallen in love, she ran and told everyone about it. She told her neighbors who had totally ostracized her that she had found the messiah, and she was compelled to bring them to him. How much courage that must have taken! But people in love do great acts of courage without thought sometimes, without considering the consequences.

We are all the woman at the well. We all have a past that includes things we aren’t particularly proud of. We all have sinned and have felt the worthlessness sin can bring. And we have all encountered Jesus in some way or other. Some of us have moved our relationship with him to another level, to the level of trust. Some of us have gone all the way to love. We have fallen in love with Jesus.

This morning we are celebrating the first scrutiny for our elect. 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.

We will share with them the statement of our beliefs. We will profess once again the truths that have been revealed to us by God himself, the truths that make us Christian, the truths that bind us together, the truths that lead us to love of God and of one another, the truths that lead us to eternal life.

The woman at the well was faithful to her understanding of her beliefs, but that alone would not ensure her salvation. It was not until she had a conversation with her God, one to one, face to face, did she begin to understand. And that conversation was brutal and honest. It brought into the light what had been going on in the darkness. We are all called by Jesus to that conversation. Our elect even more so. But that conversation should not be something to fear; it is necessary to remove the barriers we have set up to loving God. Just as we must move from knowledge to trust to love of God, we need to confront our own selves with all our imperfections, if we can allow ourselves to trust, if we can allow ourselves to be loved.