The Care and Feeding of Priests

16^th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle B

Jer 23:1-6

Eph 2:13-18

Mk 6:30-34

 

Today we hear some damning words against the shepherds of the flock in ancient Israel from the prophet Jeremiah. Remember that Jeremiah was the prophet before, during and after the destruction of Jerusalem and the exile of the Jewish people by the Babylonians. He is called the weeping prophet, and his message is often one of woe and warning. In a lot of ways he blamed the actions of the leaders for the suffering of the people. So, it’s easy to understand why he slammed them so harshly. Jeremiah is not the only prophet who chastises ineffective or even dangerous shepherds, and we have been both blessed and cursed with both good and bad shepherds since the time of the apostles.

 

The image of sheep and shepherds is a common one throughout the scriptures, not just in the gospels. Shepherds were a paradoxical group of people in the ancient world. They were both celebrated and despised. They served a very important function, but they did so with a very dirty group of animals. Not only were sheep a great source of wool and meat, they also served a vital function in the sacrificial life of the temple. But they were dirty and smelly, and as Pope Francis has famously said, the shepherds need to smell like the sheep, and so they probably weren’t so pleasant to be around.

 

The shepherds would live amongst the sheep, apart from the community. Oftentimes they would huddle together for warmth at night. The job of the shepherd was to watch over the sheep, to gently guide them to food and water, to keep them together in one flock. But the shepherd was also called to defend the sheep from predators, to fight off attacks, to kill the predator if necessary, even give their life for the sheep. The shepherd was not some wimpy kid who ran away at the first sign of trouble. He was a strong man who was intimately involved in the wellbeing of the sheep. They were his livelihood and probably the most valuable things he possessed. And so he defended and cared for them as if they were his children.

 

The sheep on the other hand were, well, sheep. We think of sheep as being docile, not very bright creatures, who can’t take care of themselves. All they do is eat and drink and bleat a lot. They are prey, not predator, and have no real defense against danger other than huddling together in numbers. They are powerless and sort of just wander about aimlessly, unaware of what is happening around them until they are threatened. Not a very complimentary analogy for us, is it?

 

There is always a tension between leaders and followers in every society, church, organization and group, isn’t there? The people always seem to need and the leaders always seem to fail at giving them what they need in some way or other. Rarely do the people universally acknowledge that this leader or that has generally been good and effective. The sheep always seem to have something to complain about. They never seem to be happy or want to take responsibility for themselves They demand a heck of a lot from their shepherds, and rarely can the shepherds live up to their expectations.

 

We do seem to have a love hate relationship with our leaders, and them with us. For example, we make jokes about and complain about politicians as a group, it seems, but we still get a bit of a thrill when we meet our senator or governor or the president personally. And I think it’s the same way with our spiritual shepherds. You may not like or agree with your bishop or cardinal or even the pope, but it’s still pretty cool if you get to shake his hand and say that you met him.

 

Jesus himself was not acknowledged as good and effective by all during his time, and even today most people still find fault with him and his disciples. In today’s gospel we see the people being so demanding of him that he didn’t even have time to eat. Jesus took the apostles off to a deserted place so they could rest. The Good Shepherd was shepherding the shepherds. But the people would not let them rest. When people are hungry, they’ll do whatever it takes to get fed. No matter how the shepherds feel, the sheep don’t care. They just want to be fed. And the good shepherds continue to feed them, even when they’re tired or don’t feel like it.

We expect our priests to do it all for us. We want them to preside at Mass, perform weddings and baptisms when we want them to, on our schedules. We want them beside our hospital beds and gravesites. We want them to remember our names and our birthdays. We want them there to heal our broken marriages and help us raise our rebellious children. We want them to make us feel welcome and special. We expect them to run our parishes like efficient small businesses, paying the bills on time without ever having to ask us for money on Sundays. We want them live up to the highest standards of discipleship that we rarely hold ourselves to.

And you know what, all that’s exactly what our priests want to do. That’s why they became priests, and hopefully they entered the priesthood with open eyes. They knew what would be demanded of them. That’s why Anthony is here with us this year. They want to gently teach us and guide us in the truth and treat everyone with mercy and compassion. They want to smell like the sheep and be an intimate part of our lives. They want to show courage and strength in defending us from those who would cause us harm and lead us astray. They desperately want to keep us unified and whole around the truth of the gospel. But they need our help to do so.

We talk a lot about what a good shepherd is, but not so much about what it means to be a good sheep. You cannot learn what it means to be a good shepherd just by studying it in seminary or by being ordained. You learn how to be a shepherd directly from your sheep. Our former pastor, Fr. Bob, told me once that the Church ordained him a priest, but his people made him a pastor. And I can relate to that as a deacon. Much of what I have learned and experienced in my vocation has come from the joys and hard lessons learned in my interactions with my people. We are formed as shepherds through experiencing the amazing love and care we receive from our people, and also through the many mistakes we make in dealing with you. Sometimes the corrections we receive are subtle and other times they hit us right between the eyes. You become a good shepherd by making mistakes, by sometimes unwittingly hurting the sheep, by being horrified when you learn about it, and by being forgiven by those you have hurt.

That’s called wisdom, I guess, and a wise shepherd is probably the one who has been forgiven a lot. And I think that receiving forgiveness is the highest experience of love. We are all sheep and are all shepherds in many ways. And each role requires a deep level of self-awareness and humility if we are to really live them fully. Many people do not want to be sheep. They do not want to be led, or they see themselves as being greater or smarter or wiser than the shepherds. Many shepherds can be arrogant and inflexible and lord it over the sheep. We all make mistakes in our roles, yet we all need to want to live according to the gospels in all our relationships.

If we expect our leaders to have courage and protect us from attacks from without and within, we need to have that same courage when dealing with our shepherds. There have been many times in the history of the Church when some shepherds were incompetent and some outright evil. But today for the most part I don’t think there are many shepherds who knowingly want to lead the flock astray. They are sincere in their interpretations of the gospel, even though they might veer off course from time to time. Just like the rest of us, they have a worldview and a point of view when it comes to discipleship, the church, and its teachings, and that flavors their beliefs and the way they deal with others. We are all products of our upbringing and life experiences. The job of all disciples is to be sufficiently informed about the truth of the church’s teachings, and then to compassionately correct one another when we go astray. The bishops discuss and debate and work out policies and statements, bishops help their priests and deacons, priests and deacons work things out amongst themselves. And the laity are called to have the courage to speak out also. We are all struggling to work out our own salvation in fear and trembling. Everybody wants to be treated with compassion and mercy. The sheep deserve this and so do the shepherds.

So, first shepherd yourself. Allow yourself to be a sheep and be led. Take time to get better yourself by truly studying your faith and making it central to who you are. Then shepherd your family, especially your children. Look at the issues that affect your family through your eyes of faith. Fulfill the promises you made at your children’s baptisms by fully integrating your family into the life of your parish, especially by participating in the Mass. Shepherd your fellow Christians through fellowship and by sharing in each other’s joys and sorrows. Lovingly admonish one another and give each other effective feedback. Never gossip. Cut each other some slack and remember that you will be forgiven by God in the same measure that you have forgiven others. Finally, shepherd your shepherds, humbly and with great compassion. If you have questions about why they are doing something, ask them about it. Don’t assume the worst intentions. If they have hurt you, tell them. I guarantee you they are unaware of what they have done. If they have caused you joy, tell them. They are probably unaware that they had done that, too. Did I say never gossip?

 

I believe that a large part of what keeps many of us Catholic are our personal relationships with our priests. And I truly believe that much of what keeps our clergy faithful is their relationships with their people. How many of you have more than a cursory relationship with your priests? So many come through the doors, give a little nod or a wave, and then never try to get to know the priest. Have you ever met your bishop? When was the last time you invited them to a meal? Our shepherds so desire to smell like their sheep, but so often we don’t allow them to. Be aware of them, care for them, forgive them, and pray for them.

 

Because that’s what they do for you.

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.