The Heart of the Matter

Homily for Sunday, August 31, 2008 (Romans 12:1-2)

As we move through Paul’s Letter to the Romans, we have just left 3 chapters of Paul’s wrenching anguish over his kinsmen’s refusal to allow Christ into their lives.  And now we are heading into 3 chapters of Paul’s answer on how we can lead others to the joy of God’s kingdom.  This section is called the “Therefore Ethics of Paul.”  After having traveled through 11 chapters of Paul’s treatment of the Gospel of Christ, he says, “therefore:” therefore, because we so believe in what God has done for us in Christ, our lives, our ethical decisions will be different from those who do not so believe.

What drives your ethical decisions?  When you are faced with a moral dilemma, how do you resolve it?  For instance, when you look at the political choices before us, what system or pattern of thought do you use to make up your mind?  Or when you are faced with an ethical predicament, what method of deduction do you go through in order to make your moral decision.  Let’s say money is tight and you have an opportunity to spirit money away from your place of business.  What steps do you go through in order for you to make a right decision?  Or supposing your accustomed intimacy with your spouse is not happening for one reason or another, what drives your reaction to your feelings of being deprived, and what do you do about it? 

            Most people make their moral decisions based either on deeply held convictions, or based on the suggestions of a prevailing cultural mindset that allows for ever greater laxity. Instead, Paul teaches us today to make our ethical decisions based on what he calls a transformation, or a renewal, of our mind.

            He is telling us that if we make serious decisions about what is good and pleasing without discerning a way of thinking in accord with the will of God, we will be trapped by one of either 2 things:

• Either: we will be trapped by an external list of do’s and don’ts that our inner self never buys into, and we will resent the Gospel call to be imitators of Christ.  We will see our religion as oppressive, joy-killing, guilt-inducing and intolerant. 
• Or: we will allow ourselves to be led by the lowest common denominator of the prevailing cultural sweep of moral laxity; and in doing so, we will give ourselves over to things that keep us in another trap, robbing us of the surest source of joy.

This transformation of our minds that can set us free comes from our making a decision to live by the cross of our Savior, or as Paul puts it: “offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God, your spiritual worship.”  What does this mean?

            It’s the opposite of the message we receive constantly in our culture.  Our society encourages us to be all we can be, to assert ourselves and drive ahead with our achievements, to be successful, to win at any cost, to do whatever we can do to be wealthy, happy, fit, and engaging in as much fun as we can get out of life.

            See how different the renewal of our minds would be if we imitated Christ, if we sacrificed ourselves for the good of others, if we laid down our lives to raise others up, if we died to self instead of demanding our assertion of self, if we turned the other cheek, if we walked the extra mile, if we made choices for simplicity instead of luxury, if we denied ourselves instead of pampered ourselves, if we found our joy not in distractions but in meaningful engagement with people in need, if we strove not to make millions of dollars but make millions of people happier, healthier, more secure by our day by day decisions to care about others more than to care about oneself.

            If this transformation of our thinking came about because of an ever deepening relationship with Christ, then we would not be gobbling up the world’s resources, we would not be so wasteful, so polluting, and we would not be ever seeking the next thrill to fill our ever growing inner void that nothing on earth can fill.

      “Brothers and sisters, do not conform yourselves to this age but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and pleasing and perfect.”

 

An unexpected opportunity to evangelize!

So, there I was at my brother's house for a big indoor and outdoor party.  All kinds of people.  Relatives, shirt-tail relatives, neighbors, and friends of every stripe and some people I didn't know.  I had just come from celebrating 2 Sunday Masses and baptizing a little toddler whose (huge) family is from Cameroon.  On the way to the party I stopped at a hospice to give Last Rites and Viaticum to a dying 55 year old man.  So, my mind was filled with the beauty of people of faith.

Then, at the party I was standing at a counter noshing on carrots and a woman I did not know came to the carrots and said, "So, you're the Catholic priest?"  Uh oh, I thought, here it comes!  "Well," she said, " I left the Catholic Church and I'm glad I did!"  I asked, why?  "You really want to hear?"  Sure, I said.  Then she took aim and fired away.  After blaming the Catholic Church for one thing after another, she went on praising this her 3rd church she's been in since she left the Catholic Church.  "We have a great band and we don't hear the same thing all the time."

After her tirade I asked her, But don't you miss Holy Communion?  "Oh, we have communion."  Really?  How often?  "Every week."  Oh, I said, it's not the same, is it?  "Of course it is!"  Oh, no, I said; your church now doesn't believe that it is the True Body and True Blood of Christ, do they?

"You don't believe that you are eating Jesus at communion, do you!?"    Of course I do!  "No," she said; "communion only represents Jesus and His Last Supper.  I never believed that communion was actually Jesus, even when I was Catholic!" 

Then you never really were Catholic, were you? 

How can it be that she spent 49 years in the Catholic Church not believing that the Eucharist is indeed the True Body and True Blood of Jesus?  Maybe she did, but she mentioned that she went through a divorce at the time of her departure from the Catholic Church; and even though a divorce does not separate one from Holy Communion, some people feel that it does.  That's because they misread their situation, as being unworthy, or somehow dis-graced, so they feel that they have to go elsewhere.  That is truly sad.  So, let's spread the word among our divorced Catholics that it's only a remarriage that so conflicts with the Gospel mandate, "Let no man put asunder what God has joined together," that reception of Holy Communion becomes an issue.

Meanwhile, my brother was sending one after another of his adult kids to rescue me.  Thank God for my family.

Homily for Sunday, August 24, 2008 (Romans 11: 33-36)

I’m reading a book by a Rwandan woman who survived the genocide that was perpetrated in her country back in the 1990’s.  Her name is Immaculee Ilibagiza.  She describes the frame of mind of the killers as seeing other people, namely their neighbors and friends, as “cockroaches” to be fumigated and exterminated.  She tells of the swing of the machetes as they slashed through the flesh of men, women, children and babes in the womb. Thousands upon thousands were overcome with a bloodlust that persuaded them to rape before they killed.  Why?  Why did these people do this? 

            Why?  It’s a question we all face again and again, as if we were the first ones to ask such a question.  Every time we are subjected to some serious form of suffering, we are inclined to demand an answer from God: why are You doing this to me?  Or, why are You letting this happen?  Even Jesus, on the cross, cried out, “Why, why have You abandoned me?”

            Asking why is fundamental to our being human beings.  Animals do not ask “why” when faced with gash or a wound.  We, however, have the mental and spiritual capacity to reflect so as to find meaning for our lives, especially finding meaning in our sufferings.  If we fail to find a meaning, then we will be tempted to think that suffering makes life absurd.  This is the thinking of those who are proponents of euthanasia.  They see no purpose to suffering; and when it comes upon a person who also finds no meaning in it, they see such existence as that of an animal. So, they should be put out of their misery like putting down an aging dog.

            You and I are not dogs.  We are not incapable of finding rich meaning for our lives, especially when we have to suffer - even suffer grievously.

            At an earlier part of Romans we are told that meaning comes from being able to “call upon the Lord,” in other words, to have such a relationship with the Lord that we trust Him no matter what.  But Paul, back in Chapter 10, asks, “How can they call on him in whom they have not believed? And how can they believe in him of  whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone to preach? And how can people preach unless they are sent? As it is written, "How beautiful are the feet of those who bring (the) good news!"  

            My brothers and sisters, you and I, not just me the priest, are called upon by the Lord to be the ones whose feet are beautiful because they enable us to bring the good news of our union with God in Christ Jesus, a union that gives meaning to every comer of our lives.

            So, what did Immaculee Ilibagiza’s wrestling with “why” lead her to, so that now she is the bearer of good news?  Immaculee’s question of why did this genocide happen, and why did God let it happen matured into: why was I not killed when everyone I loved was killed?  Eventually she was given her answer, which she made the title of the book:  She was “Left to Tell,” and bear witness to what went on there, and also to tell, beyond understanding, how she found God in the midst of it all.

Ah, how beautiful are the feet of Immaculee Ilibagiza!

The exercise we go through to find meaning to our sufferings is similar to today’s wrapping up a three chapter, wrenching look in Romans at why Paul’s kinsmen did not accept Jesus as the Messiah.  It was so wrenching for Paul that he said he’d rather be cursed if that would somehow help his kinsmen come to know the Lord Jesus for who He is really is, or as Peter proclaims in today’s gospel, “You are the Christ, the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.”

            For 3 chapters Paul wrestles with the question, but ultimately he declares that the only real answer that has meaning beyond meaning is a stance of faith and praise of God even in the unsettling question of “why?”  We cannot fathom the depths of the mind of God; and no matter what we are facing, we must stand humbly before our God and say, “What have I given You, Lord, that I must be given an answer to my incessant demand for You to give me an explanation?”   That combination of wrestling and ultimately surrendering produce a faith that can endure anything! 

Goodness and badness are both contagious

Today's saint, St. Bernard of Clairvaux, lived in the first half of the 1100's.  He was so full of the love of God that he attracted all kinds of people to become in love with God as well.  His influence was such that his whole family became saints.  In fact, there is an out-of-print book about him entitled, "The Family That Stormed Heaven."   He had extraordinary influence in his lifetime and in all sectors of society, both religiously and politically.  He is a powerful example of how goodness can be contagious. 

So, by the way, is badness contagious, as in how an evil mentality can take over a whole society, like Nazism in Germany or abortion in our own time. 

People really like to think they are their own person and decide their own path in life.  But we too often fail to realize how easily we allow ourselves to be puppets and swayed by public opinion.  Sanctity is the victory of courage to be faithful to goodness in the face of a wave of badness overtaking a society.  St. Bernard, pray for us.

They're back!

After a quiet summer, they're back!  Our school kids are back in the classroom; and the university students are back in town.  Get ready for lots of life.  And welcome back to school, everybody!

Homily for Sunday, August 17, 2008 (Romans 11: 13-15, 29-32)

All week long I have been mulling over the three chapters in Romans between last Sunday’s second reading and this Sunday’s.  In these chapters Paul shares his anguish over his kinsmen’s not accepting Jesus as the Messiah.  I see a clear link with our anguish over our own Catholic loved ones who have abandoned the Church.  Chapters 9, 10 and 11 of Romans addresses Paul’s love for his kinsmen even though they have preferred a way of life that leaves Jesus out of their lives completely. 

Sometimes, doesn’t it feel like we are standing at the edge of a waterfalls as we watch one loved one after another go over the falls into religious oblivion?  Paul tells us earlier in Chapter 11 that this feeling is similar to what Elijah felt when he went off to meet God, not in the wind or earthquake or fire, but in the still, small whispering sound.  That’s when Elijah tells God that “I, I alone am left.”  And God says, Not so!  I still have 7,000 who have not given themselves over to false gods. 

There will always be a remnant of believers who do not bend the knee to false gods.  The Old Testament again and again speaks of the remnant, and so does the New Testament: a remnant will be faithful.  You and I are part of today’s remnant.    

My reading of Romans shows me that if we abandon a lively faith, we begin to lose our sense of who we are.  By starving ourselves from the Proclamation of the Word of God and from the divine nourishment of Holy Communion, we become like spiritual anorexics.

            Then, when we make a choice against God and God’s ways we begin a series of stumbles that have us fall again and again into a state of alienation from God and from the Church.  The dynamic goes this way: I commit some deed I know is wrong, and then I find it all the more enticing, so I justify my decision and choose this sin as a pattern of life rather than repent of it. 

God so arranged our souls that a choice against Him begets other choices against Him, until it gets bad enough so that we repent.  However, if we justify ourselves to ourselves, we never get to repent because we have chosen to believe that bad is good.  And that’s how we begin to abide in a state of enmity with God, or rejection of the Lord, or, as Paul calls it, disobedience. 

Why is this the way things are?  All I can say is to quote Paul when he says, “But who indeed are you, a human being, to talk back to God?  Will what is made say to its maker, "Why have you created me so?" (Romans 9:20)

So, you see that until we come to acknowledge our enmity with God, we will just slide down a hill of growing apathy until our faith is dead.

There is a big “however” in all of this:  However, we are all enemies of God every time we choose sin against the ways of the Lord.  Paul says, “For God delivered all to disobedience, that he might have mercy upon all.”  (Romans 11:32)

Even the best of us can at times be an enemy of God.  That’s why it’s so necessary to go the confession every now and then.  Without that very necessary repentance, we choose sin and justify it against the clear teaching of the Gospel.  And that does indeed put us in an abiding state of enmity with God.  In such a case we are seeking self-justification, not the justification that comes from recognizing oneself as a sinner in need of God’s saving grace. 

Until we come to know that we need God, desperately need Him, we abide in a state of enmity with God – even if we do lots of wonderful things

Our hope for ourselves and our loved ones is that “the gifts and call of God are irrevocable.”  (Romans 11:29)  Paul makes it very clear that God does not reject the Jews.  Nor does God reject us or any of our lapsed Catholics.  That means that God never gives up on any of us.  It also means that we who are faithful must live such an authentic life of faith, hope and love that our loved ones become jealous of the union we have with God, because that union with God has made us so loving, so forgiving, and so authentic that being a believer has an appeal that becomes contagious.

Seeing the Hound of Heaven in Romans: Chapters 9, 10 and 11

In preparation for this coming Sunday's homily, I am mulling over the three chapters in Romans where Paul shares his anguish over his kinsmen’s not accepting Jesus as the Messiah.  I see a clear link with our anguish over our own relatives who are not abiding by our Catholic faith.  The fundamental issue is the same: the demand of the Gospel is faith, but the preference of Paul’s kinsmen (and of fallen away Catholics) is a different preference:  both groups attempt to establish their own righteousness rather than submit to the righteousness God wants from us: that is, faith.

   

Oh, they may even have zeal for God, but their zeal is not discerning.  They want to live not by faith, but they want to live as if a good life could be accomplished by doing good.  The Lord makes very clear, however, that "everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved."  Yet, how many of the baptized do not practice the faith.  Have they not heard the faith proclaimed and taught?  They have; but not everyone has lived according to what they heard.

Perhaps they did not understand what they were taught?  It has more to do with a willfulness to be disobedient to the Word of God than not understanding.  Does that mean that God rejects them for their disobedience?  Of course not!  God does not reject either the Jewish people or the baptized people!  And even though it may feel like everyone has departed from the life of faith, it is not so.  Look at us!  Just as in the Old Testament, so in the New Testament: a remnant will be faithful.  You and I are part of today’s remnant. 

  

The rest, however, have become hardened in their hearts, or as Scripture puts it: "God gave them a spirit of deep sleep, eyes that should not see and ears that should not hear.” 

   

Can we, therefore, say something radical: that their loss of faith is the work of God?

Well, when we choose against God and God’s ways we begin a series of stumbles that have us fall again and again into a state of further alienation from God and the Church.  Such as: I commit some deed I know is wrong, and then I find it all the more enticing, so I justify my decision and choose this sin rather than repent of it.  How is this the work of God? God arranged our souls so that a choice against Him begets other choices against Him, until it gets bad enough so that we repent.  The huge problem with self-justification is they we never get to repent because we have chosen to believe that bad is good.  And that’s how we begin to abide in a state of enmity with God.  It is the work of God whenever a soul recognizes that this state of enmity with God is no longer wanted.

   

Has God, therefore, rejected those who have chosen to be His enemies?  No!  But they do abide in a state of disobedience to God.  That makes them enemies of God.  There is a big HOWEVER here.  The “However” is this: we are all enemies of God every time we choose sin against the ways of the Lord.  Even the best of us can at times be an enemy of God.  That’s why it’s so necessary to go the confession every now and then.  But to choose sin and justify it against the clear teaching of the Church does indeed put us in an abiding state of enmity with God.  In such a case we are seeking self-justification, not the justification that comes from recognizing oneself as a sinner in need of God’s saving grace.  Until we come to know that we need God, desperately need Him, we abide in a state of enmity with God – even if we do lots of wonderful things.

       

We have the face the music that God has so set things up that there is a state of alienation (i.e. enmity) for those who fall away but a kindness for those who abide in faith – and not any faith, but the faith He called us to in Baptism.  

         

So, in respect to the gospel, the fallen away are enemies of God; but in respect to having been chosen as sons and daughters of God, they are beloved because of the faithful witness of their ancestors and those who went before them, the saints.  

   

“For the gifts and the call of God are irrevocable.”  This is the great message of hope and it means that God will not stop seeking the lost sheep.  He is the Hound of Heaven chasing after us until we finally realized how loved we are.  That is our hope; that is the hope of all who have been baptized; and this is the hope we can have for our fallen away brothers and sisters.

Homily for Sunday, August 10, 2008 (Romans 9:1-5)

During this Jubilee Year of the Apostle Paul I committed myself to preach every Sunday on the second reading, from Paul’s letters.  Today we enter into Romans, Chapter 9, one of three chapters dealing with the greatest heartbreak of Paul: that most Jews did not accept Jesus as the Messiah.  

            To help us make a practical connection between ourselves and Paul’s dilemma, let me translate today’s second reading into our own context.

            “Brothers and sisters: I speak the truth in Christ, I do not lie; my conscience joins with the Holy Spirit in bearing me witness that I have great sorrow and constant anguish in my heart.  For I could wish that I would be dammed to hell and cut off from Christ for the sake of my parishioners who have fallen away from the Church.  They are the Church, theirs is the baptismal dignity of being sons and daughters of God, theirs is the glory of being beloved by God, theirs is the forgiveness found in the new and everlasting covenant, theirs is the Sermon on the Mount, theirs is the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, theirs is the promise of heaven, theirs are the apostles, the martyrs and all the saints who have done God’s will throughout the ages, theirs is the Mother of God, Mary most holy, and from her, according to the flesh, is the Christ who is over all, God blessed forever. Amen.”

            Paul’s greatest grief was that a very large majority of his kinsmen would not come to faith in Jesus as the Christ, the Son of the Living God.  How could this be?  God had chosen the Chosen People to be the people from whom would come the Christ, the Messiah, who would transform the world and save the human race.  How could it be that so many rejected Him?

            Has it not happened in our own times as well, that many of the people God had chosen to be His own have walked away?  Is it not true that many of God’s chosen ones, who were allowed early previews into heaven by means of Baptism, Confirmation and the Eucharist, have walked away and no longer accompany us along life’s sacramental, pilgrim road to heaven?  

            This great sorrow and constant anguish on Paul’s part does not come from his not getting his way with other people.  This reaction of Paul’s does not come from wanting other people to do what he thought they should do.  No.  Paul’s sorrow and anguish came from a sure and certain love of Christ and grasp of what the love of God does for us in Christ.  It was a sorrow and anguish that God’s greatest gift to the human race was rejected by the very people who should rejoice over Him.  It also came from a profound love for his kinsmen because they willingly chose to miss the target with what they were being invited to.

            In these 3 chapters of Romans Paul will treat the reason why his kinsmen rejected Christ, and the same will apply to our loved ones.  Next Sunday we will be given the sure and certain confidence that God does not withdraw his promise to the Chosen People.  “The gifts and call of God,” Paul will say, “are irrevocable.”  This will be next Sunday’s message of hope that we can have regarding our loved ones who have abandoned the Table of the Lord.  That’s next week.

            Today’s selection from Romans 9 is not about why they don’t believe, or what will happen to them.  Today’s selection has this purpose for us: to challenge us to care, even to the point of anguish.  

            Settling for a shrug and an indifferent attitude of, “well, everyone has to find their own way,” is unbecoming of someone who is passionately in love with God and the Church He gave us.

            Is Jesus so important to us that anyone’s “not getting it” is a source of sorrow for us?  Are the sacraments so valuable to us that others, who used to celebrate the sacraments and now don’t, are like spiritual black holes of profound absence among us, their brothers and sisters?  Is our Catholic faith so meaningful to us that seeing a loved one’s falling away is like losing a hand or a foot?  Is our love for the Lord and the Church and for our loved ones so strong, that we too could wish to be cursed if that would help them find their way?

Check out my newly published book

A Lenten Journey Toward Christian Maturity: Daily Prayer Guide has just been published by 100 Talents Press and is now available in book form through Amazon.com and is also available as an e-book through Powell's Books, and I hope it will become available as a Kindle book sometime soon.

Though we are far away from Lent, I prepared this book well ahead of time so it can be publicized and purchased by the time Lent arrives on Ash Wednesday, which will be on February 25, 2009.  The book is written as a daily prayer guide to help the reader move through the season of Lent so as to arrive at a greater spiritual maturity by the time Holy Week begins. 

Think about giving it as a Christmas gift!

Why do we pray for the dead?

The news tonight had an item about a tragic fire where a number of people died.  A vigil was held tonight "to pray for the victims."  About 200 hundred people showed up to pray for the deceased. 

Why?  Why is there in us an impetus to pray for the deceased?  Lot's of people would say, after some thought, that we pray for the families of the deceased loved ones, or we pray for ourselves who have been traumatized by their deaths.  However, our initial impulse is to pray for those who died.  And that impulse, I believe, is from God.

So, why do we pray for the dead?  Because in our heart of hearts we know that when we die we meet the Lord face to face.  Historically much of the past has witnessed a lot of preoccupation about that encounter with God at the end of our lives.  Just think of the famous mural of the Last Judgment in the Sistine Chapel by Michelangelo. 

The epoch of time we are living in wants to deny the reality of death and the accountability we owe at the of our lives for what we have done in the body, whether for good or for bad.  Such a denial is foolish because if there is no accounting after we die, then we won't know that we were right.  But if, as human history has insisted (except for now), there is indeed an accounting, then why not be better prepared for it?  That's what lies at the heart of our initial impetus to pray for the dead.  In our heart of hearts we know they are facing the music.  And people of faith can face the prospect of this accounting with hope by trusting in a merciful God who forgives those who are repentant.