The 3 Cs

 

32^nd Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle C

2 Macc 7: 1-2, 9-14

2 Thess 2: 16-3:5

Lk 20: 27-38

 

There are some things worth dying for.

 

We hear a story today of great courage based upon strong faith and conviction. The story of the Maccabees isn’t read very often in our liturgy, and in fact, is not even included in Protestant bibles, so you may not be very aware of it. Our first reading today is pretty gruesome, and we only hear the middle of the story. There were actually seven brothers and their mother, and the mother was forced to watch all of her sons be killed before she herself was killed. Why were these poor people being tortured and killed, and what had led them to make the decision to resist so stubbornly?

After the death of Alexander the Great in 323 BC, there was a struggle for control of Israel, Egypt and Syria. Eventually the Seleucids from Syria gained control and began a program of Hellenization that sought to force the Jews to abandon their monotheism for the Greek’s paganism. They erected a shrine to the Greek god Zeus in the temple in Jerusalem, outlawed circumcision, and forced the Jews to either eat pork as a sign of abandoning their law or be tortured and killed. That is the choice that faced the seven brothers in today’s reading.

To the Jews, this was more than just a religious struggle. This was a struggle for their identity as a people. They saw the Law as being both a sign of their fidelity to God and a symbol of themselves as a nation. It is easy to see why they would resist the Greek’s effort to assimilate them. They could not in good conscience go against the Law. They chose death over assimiliation.

They were willing to die for their faith. They had such strong conviction that they were able to withstand horrible pain and suffer death rather than go against the central tenant of their being – faithfulness to God. Do you have such a conviction about anything in your life? Is there anything you would be willing to die for? I think most of us would give our lives for those we love, especially for our family. At least we like to believe we would. But most of us will never be faced with that choice. I know I haven’t and really don’t ever want to be. I have a thing about pain. I can relate with the quote from Flannery O’Connor, “I don’t think I can be a saint, but I think I could be a martyr if they kill me real quick”.

Hopefully we will never face that ultimate choice. Deliver us from evil, we pray. But life is full of thousands of less dire decisions that by themselves probably won’t tip the balance but taken together over our lifetimes actually affect how we will be judged by God. And the driver of all our decisions is our conscience.

When we consider questions of faith and morals, we always refer to the primacy of our conscience. We must follow our conscience. That is true, but that doesn’t absolve us from responsibility, in fact, it increases it. We are each responsible fully for our own decisions and actions. All our actions have consequences and therefore we shouldn’t make decisions, especially important decisions, lightly or without weighing things carefully. All the doctrines and dogmas, rules and regulations of the Church and society are there to inform and guide us, but we are responsible. We are the ones who will be judged by God for what we have done in this life, and so I guess ultimately it is our conscience that is the final arbiter of our decisions. But then our consciences are the final determiner of the consequences, too.

So many people use this reasoning as a rationalization and excuse to do whatever they like, because their conscience tells them it’s ok. You may follow your conscience down the wrong path. And sincerity has little to do with it. You might be very sincere in your beliefs, but you might be sincerely wrong. This is especially the case in today’s society where we believe that there are few or no immutable truths. All is relative to what I believe my conscience is telling me. That is not what we believe as Catholics. While we do believe in the primacy of conscience, that conscience must be formed correctly. It isn’t up to us what is right and what is wrong.

You will form your conscience whether you do it consciously or not. If you don’t do it yourself, it will be done for you by all the outside opinions and pressures of the world.  It is formed by your life experiences, your moral upbringing and belief, and your faith, or lack of faith, in God. As faithful Catholics, we are called to constantly be forming our consciences. It is not that right and wrong are constantly changing, it’s that our understanding of right and wrong develops and grows as we do. As Catholics, we are required to form our consciences within the teachings and guidance of the Church. Not because we blindly follow the law, but because, like the Maccabees, our faith defines who we are. Our relationship with God is central to our lives, because we are all called to build up the kingdom. We can abide by changes in thought and practice in society to a certain extent, but eventually we will be called upon to make a choice. It seems that more and more society’s norms are in direct opposition to our consciences. Some choices are easy and obvious, others are actually between life and death.

Just as conscience is not developed in a vacuum, it does not exist by itself. It should always be accompanied by courage and conviction. Conscience is what we turn to to make decisions, but we are then called to act on those decisions. Many times it is easier to make the decision than to do something about it. Where do we get the courage to act? Remember that decisions have consequences. Courage comes into play when we are aware of what might happen if we act.

Some things are worth fighting for.

There are two consequences to every action. One is the immediate consequence and the other is the eternal consequence. In today’s world, acting morally or in accordance with your faith has a real chance of getting you canceled, banned, ostracized, fired or even killed. There seem to be no more private actions. Everyone seems to be in everybody’s business. Even a simple comment to a social media post can destroy you. It takes courage to speak out and live the calling you received at your baptism to be a prophet, to speak truth to power and stand up for the oppressed. But that is what we are all called to do because of our baptism.

What gives courage its power and purpose is hope. Courage lives or dies based upon hope. We weigh the risks against the benefits and decide to act. Just as there are eternal consequences to our immoral choices, there is hope of eternal life in our moral choices. The thing that gave the Maccabees the courage to resist was their hope in what was to come. They believed that they would be raised again by their God to a glorious future. It was that hope that drove them to resist. It was that hope that gave them their courage. It was their courage that led to their conviction. We share that same hope in the resurrection. But do we share their conviction? Is our hope in eternal life with God enough to guide all our decisions, all our actions, even when faced with hardship and suffering?

Some things are worth living for.

Keep your eye on the prize. Our goal is no less than eternal life. All else in this life pales in comparison. Jesus said, “What does it profit a man if he should gain the whole world but lose his soul? Or what should a man give in exchange for his soul?”

Brothers and Sisters, may the Lord Jesus Christ and God our Father,

Who has loved us and given us lasting encouragement,

And good hope through his grace,

Encourage your hearts and strengthen them in every good deed and word.

 

Finish Well

29^th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle C

Ex 17:8-13

2 Tim 3:14-4:2

Lk 18:1-8

 

Jim Redmond died two weeks ago at the age of 81. He was the father of Derek Redmond, the British sprinter who tore his hamstring in the 400 meter qualifying race in the 1992 Olympics. Upon Jim’s death the media ran clips again of that emotional moment in Barcelona when Derek pulled up limping early in the race. He fell to the ground and writhed in pain, but what was really excruciating to see was the agony in his face, the crushing disappointment that all those years of struggle, pain, training and preparation had come crashing down in an instant. He would not fulfill his dream of an Olympic medal after all.

 

Derek could have just laid there, but he struggled to his feet and began limping around the track. That determination to finish would in and of itself have been an heroic example of drive and perseverance, but suddenly a middle aged man came running onto the track. It was his father, Jim, who ran up behind his son, put his arm around him, and helped him limp along towards the finish line. You can imagine he had been there throughout his son’s entire track career, from high school through college, sacrificing alongside Derek, supporting him in his goal of winning Olympic gold. But for Jim it was more than just disappointment. Like any loving father he also felt the pain of his son’s agony. Like any good father he needed to be there to console his son, but even moreso, to continue to support him in the face of disaster. Jim could have told his son to stop, to make the pain go away, to give up. But instead he put his arm around him as he wept and they limped down the track together.

 

Several officials tried to stop him, because helping Derek would disqualify him from the race. Jim kept pushing them away. It was not just Derek’s race; it was Jim’s as well. It didn’t matter if they were disqualified. They had to finish. That was all that mattered. They had started this race years ago together and they had to finish it together. Jim had been there to celebrate all of Derek’s wins, now he was there also at the lowest point in his life. All you heard Jim say was “He’s my son, he’s my son.”

 

Derek never competed effectively again, and if he had won that race you probably would not remember his name today. But his heroic drive to finish, his persistence in the face of terrible disappointment and pain, made his performance, and his father’s actions that day, immortal. So much so that 30 years later his father was remembered for it on the day he died, and the inspiration millions of people have received from that moment in time is his legacy.

 

It’s not how you start that matters, it’s how you finish.

 

Excellence in anything requires hard work, sacrifice, preparation and practice. We believe this, it’s in our DNA. We have something deep within us that drives us and inspires us to win. It’s more than just a competitive spirit; when we have a worthy goal or purpose we can achieve amazing, unbelievable, heroic results. We see it in all areas of our lives, in sports, in our work, in our relationships, and we idolize our heroes who reach the pinnacle of their dreams, especially if they have had to overcome overwhelming obstacles.

 

There’s a reason why that drive is so much a part of human nature. It’s not just so we can succeed in our earthly goals. God put that drive in us to help us achieve the ultimate goal in life of our own salvation. Never, ever, ever give up on your faith. All other endeavors pale in comparison. Never cease to pray, to study, to train, to practice your faith. It doesn’t matter what setbacks you encounter in life. Keep your eye on the goal and persevere to the end. It’s all about finishing the race.

 

When Jesus told the disciples how difficult it is to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, they threw up their hands in frustration and asked, “Then can anyone be saved?” Jesus gives us the key today. Be persistent in your prayer to the point of annoyance. Pray always and everywhere, pray constantly, make your entire life a prayer, never stop asking your Father for what you need, never stop praising him, never stop asking for forgiveness, never stop thanking him for his mercy. Never stop serving others. Never cease to love.

 

And if you tire, get your friends to help you. Like Moses in our first reading, when you just can’t keep doing it, when the battle seems lost, when there is no hope, surround yourself with people who will hold up your hands for you and keep you steady. Stay faithful together around the common goal and help each other get to heaven. Help each other be faithful. Faith cannot be experienced or lived outside of a community of believers. One person is not an army. Just as top athletes require coaching and support from others, you cannot be saved alone.

If we are truly to live the Kingdom of God, our faith cannot be something we just think about on Sundays or when we sit down at the dinner table. Our awareness of the presence of God must be foremost in our thoughts and in our actions. And so often it is the simple, mundane actions of our lives that can be the most heroic.

Be persistent whether it is convenient or inconvenient. We lost another hero this week. Fr. Gally died unexpectedly on Friday. You probably don’t know him, he was an immigrant from India who had served in our diocese for x years. One of his main ministries, other than being a pastor, was to visit the sick in the hospitals in Salt Lake City. My main experience with him was that each and every time I was looking for a priest to visit someone, especially someone who needed the anointing of the sick or last rites, Father Gally was the one who went. Immediately. No matter the time of day. He would drop everything and go. Whether it was convenient or not.

 

We usually expect that sort of devotion from our priests, don’t we? I mean, it’s their job, right? But they have the same busy lives as we do, they are pulled in so many different directions, they get tired and frustrated, too. Do we hold ourselves to the same standards? It’s inconvenient to drop everything to be by the side of a sick friend. Do it anyway. It’s hard to tear yourself away from your computer to listen to your teenager complain about what her friends did to her that day at school. Do it anyway. Never cease to do good. Never take your eye off of the people around you. Anticipate their needs. Never expect anything in return. Forgive one another constantly. Never hold back your love because you are not shown love in return. Never say it’s someone else’s job to care. It’s yours. Never rest on your laurels. Never give up on God because He has never and will never give up on you.

 

Image Jesus Christ who was persistent until the very end, giving his last ounce of strength and last drop of blood for your redemption. Even on the cross, he forgave those who were torturing him. Even if you run the race poorly you can finish well. He promised paradise to a criminal who at the very last moments of his life repented of his sins. Victory is yours for the taking if you never give up.

 

The story of Jim Redmond is a perfect metaphor for God. God is with us throughout our entire race. He coaches us, guides us, inspires us, and admonishes us. He rejoices with us in our victories and shares in our deepest disappointments and suffering. God doesn’t care how many times we fall and fail. He is there to pick us up from the ground, put his arm around us and limp along with us to the finish line. Like any good father would do. 

Know Your Place

 

22^nd Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle C

Sir 3:17-18,20, 28-29

Heb 12:18-19,22-24a

Lk 14:1,7-14

 

Know your place

 

Christopher West tells the story of an old usher, Mr. Xavier, who served for many years at his local parish church. He was always grumpy about something. He had been an usher for as long as anyone could remember, and he took great pride in pointing out to any other usher that he had seniority. It was his way or no way. And boy, could he pack the people into those pews. He also had the nasty habit of walking up to the family of a crying baby and escorting them outside if they weren’t moving fast enough. Or of  bluntly telling a teenager she wasn’t dressed appropriately.

 

One Sunday morning Mass was particularly crowded. Folks were squeezed in as tight as they could be, and some were even forced to stand around the perimeter of the church. Just about halfway through the homily the back door opened and a young man entered. He was obviously homeless. His clothes were filthy, his hair unkempt, and his shoes were practically disintegrating off his feet. Bathing was a forgotten memory for him, evidenced by the way peoples’ heads snapped around in dismay as he shuffled past them.

 

On he walked down the aisle. Every time he passed a pew that had a little bit of room left in it the people on the end would shift over, closer to the aisle, blocking him out. Sometimes it was subtle, sometimes not. Finally he came to the front row, where you know there’s always a seat left. He sat down.

 

Suddenly there was Mr. X, striding purposely down the center aisle. He’d spotted the guy. All eyes turned and followed his progress towards the front of the church. You could practically hear the people thinking, “Xavier’ll get him. Watch this. He’ll practically drag him out if he has to. Maybe he’ll even rap him on the head a bit.” Everyone, even the priest, was watching, wondering how this would turn out.

 

Xavier came to the first row, stopped beside the young man, and simply sat down next to him. That’s all he did. Just sat down next to him, and he remained there throughout the rest of the Mass. No scene was made, no comment was spoken. He just sat there as he would’ve next to any other parishioner. And in that moment of humble acceptance Mr. Xavier gave that young man back his dignity.

 

I wonder where Jesus sat.

 

When he arrived at the banquet, what did he do first? Where did he sit? He didn’t have expensive clothes. His sandals were probably filthy from tramping around Galilee all day. He probably had not bathed in a while. And his group of friends were not much better off. The other guests were watching him closely. Why? Was it because he was a famous rabbi they were all curious to see? Was it because the Pharisees were waiting to trip him up on some point of law, to humiliate him in public? Or was it because he didn’t look like he fit in with the crowd. Sort of  like that homeless young man.

 

Did his host lead him to a place at his side, or did he leave him there to fend for himself, to find out where he fit in on his own? Was the parable he told just a piece of wisdom he had heard, or had his own experience taught him about humility and humiliation?

 

To Americans, humility is often seen as weakness. We train our children to have good self-images. We build their self-esteem by praising them constantly. Rarely do we teach them to submit. Rarely do we teach them to live within themselves. Rarely do we allow them to fail. Perhaps we have given them a false sense of themselves, making them self-centered rather than humble. Perhaps so many marriages fail because we do not know how to be humble with each other. We have never learned to be obedient to each other. We have never learned how to submit to each other. We are always trying to be something we’re not, scrambling for the best place, the biggest house, the shiniest car, the best job. We tend to cover up our insecurities and weaknesses with boastfulness.

 

 

I see and hear all those commercials for those online dating services. Every one of the testimonials in the ads says something to the effect “He loves me for who I am”, or “I finally found someone who accepts me for who I really am”. That’s a bit arrogant, isn’t it?  Most of us assume that our true selves are lovable. Are we asking people to accept us when we are unacceptable? Do we really lack so much self awareness?

 

Psalm 139 tells us that viewing ourselves truthfully, with sober judgment, means seeing ourselves the way God sees us. That’s humility. A humble person makes a realistic assessment of himself or herself without illusion or pretense to be something he or she is not. The humble regard themselves neither smaller nor larger than they truly are. Humility is acceptance. It is submission. It is obedience.

Humility is knowing your place and being ok with it. Humility is knowing your limitations, repenting and seeking forgiveness. God knows your limitations, and he loves you just the same, but He still requires something from you.

 

The greatest act of humility is repentance. The master does not ask the servant 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. 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.

 

And just as we are called to repentance, we are called even more to forgive. 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 we want others to trust in our 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. Even from the cross.

 

We have the example of what it means to be truly human in Jesus Christ. He was no pushover. He was not weak. He never needed praise to raise his self-esteem. The term “self-esteem” is found nowhere in scripture. But nowhere in history can we find someone so comfortable in his own skin. He was God, yet he chose to be obedient. He chose to submit to the will of the Father, and he handed himself over to lesser beings. He put himself in their control. St. Paul says that Jesus emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, ...who humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross. For us.

 

That’s what it means to be truly human. His self-imposed humility led to Jesus’ submission to the Father’s will, which led to his obedience to the Father’s plan, which led to his death, which led to his glory, and ours.

 

Humbling, isn’t it?