The Heart of the Matter

Homily for Sunday, October 31, 2010

This past week the U.S. Department of Education put out an appeal to school administrators, teachers and parents, asking them to help stop the bullying of gays that has been going on in schools all across the country.  It seems that the dilemma teachers and administrators are facing is this: if they encourage children to embrace tolerance, it could look like the schools are changing the mores of the nation and pushing an acceptance of the homosexual lifestyle.  That causes a backlash, so they tend to ignore the topic.  That however creates an environment where bullying happens.

            Let me first say that bullying of anyone is completely unacceptable and totally in contradiction to the Christian life. So, let’s look at this bullying dynamic through the lens of today’s Gospel story of Zacchaeus the chief tax collector, and see what Jesus has to teach us.

Poor Zacchaeus!  He’s gotten a bum rap all through the centuries as being a dirty old tax collector.  The classical understanding of what happens in this Gospel is that Zacchaeus has been a real rascal until Jesus comes along and then his life changes because of his encounter with Jesus.

            How many of us have had that experience: being caught in some kind of sin, and then encountering Jesus, and His grace leads us to turn our lives around?  If we choose this interpretation, we would do very well in interpreting this Gospel passage in this manner, especially if we do indeed turn our lives around.

            However, there is another interpretation of this text that I want to share with you, especially in these days of regarding tolerance as the greatest of all virtues. 

            The townspeople of Jericho hated Zacchaeus because it was common knowledge that all tax collectors were the scum of the earth.  In the time of Jesus tax collectors were people who collected taxes on behalf of the Roman Empire.  If that were not bad enough, most tax collectors were extortionists, imposing a tax far greater that what was due.

            Zacchaeus was a chief tax collector, which meant that he was a man of means, even before his becoming chief tax collector.  He was rich enough to have gotten his position by being the highest bidder.  A man became a tax collector by agreeing to pay all the taxes due from a certain region ahead of time. Then he was authorized to charge whatever he liked in order to regain the fortune he had spent on buying his position.   

            Most tax collectors were hated because they were making themselves rich at the expense of the people, billing them at a much heavier tax rate than what was necessary.

            Such was the reputation of Zacchaeus in his hometown of Jericho.  It was a judgment based on prejudice and presumption.

            However, in the original Greek, something fascinating is said.  When Jesus said he was going to lodge with Zacchaeus that night, the people complained that He was going to the home of a sinner.  Zacchaeus stands his ground and clarifies what kind of man he was.  He said, in the Greek, not: I shall give half of my possessions to the poor (like the English translation has it).  The Greek says, I do give, it is my standing practice to give, half of what I possess to the poor.  The Greek also says in effect, If I discover that I have (unknowingly) charged what was more than what was due, it is my standing practice to repay such a person four times over.

            Somewhere along the path of Zacchaeus’s life, he had heard about Jesus not only enough to want to see him, but he had by God’s grace already taken in Jesus’ call to reform his life.  Jesus comes on the scene and allows Zacchaeus to turn upside down the gossip and presumption that his townspeople had spread about him.  Then by Jesus going to his home, Jesus was welcoming Zacchaeus back into the community.  He was being inclusive.

            Here’s the application to our time:

In our time, tolerance has a unique meaning.  It means being welcoming and accepting and inclusive, and, here’s the catch for our time: pretending that evil does not exist.  This means that in our time being tolerant means being inclusive about the sin as well as the sinner.  The choice now before public schools is either to ignore the bullying of gays (which cannot be a choice) or to be accepting of the gay lifestyle.  We cannot do that either.  We need to remember the words of Scripture, “Woe to those who call evil good, and good evil, who change darkness into light, and light into darkness, who change bitter into sweet, and sweet into bitter!” (Is. 5:20) 

            Jesus is the pattern for how we are to be tolerant.  He did not whitewash the sins of Zacchaeus.  Zacchaeus had already come to terms already with sin in his life, and Jesus confirms him in his reformed life, and leads the townspeople to see him differently.

            Somewhere along the way (or even on that very day, as the classical translation would have it) Zacchaeus had changed his ways.  Conversion, therefore, is a key element of the true tolerance of Jesus.  Our 1^st reading from the Book of Wisdom shows us that the method of God’s grace is to “rebuke offenders little by little, warning and reminding” us of the sins we commit, so that we may abandon our wickedness and believe in the Lord.

            So, we must have confidence in the Lord.  And we must remember that we are all sinners.  Heterosexual sex outside of marriage is as much a sin as homosexual sex.  And even within marriage, sex that is not open to the transmission of life is sinful.  

So, we are all sinners, aren’t we?  Therefore, no one can sit in judgment of another.  But we must not “call evil good, and good evil, [or] change darkness into light, and light into darkness, [or] change bitter into sweet, and sweet into bitter!”  Nor can we sit on some high horse and judge others for their sin.  It's a tightrope we must walk.

Anyone’s encounter with us should be like an encounter with the Risen Lord.  That encounter should lead others, and us, little by little, to abandon wickedness and believe more firmly in the Lord. We must have no part in name calling and bullying; these are not the tactics of Jesus.    

Homily for Sunday, October 17, 2010

Have you ever gotten weary praying for some special intention because it seems the Lord does not hear?  Or, will not answer.  Maybe, you wonder, is there anyone out there listening to me?  So, today’s Scriptures help us face frustrations we have in our prayer.  Let’s take a look.

Let me begin by telling a story:  Last weekend I was in Santa Fe on a brief vacation.  I got together with a priest who had served with me back in the 1990’s at Queen of Peace parish in Aurora.  In the course of our conversations he gave me an insight that has transformed me.  He was recalling the image Jesus gave in the previous Sunday’s Gospel of the slave who, after working all day in the field, would come home and prepare the master’s dinner.  And when the servant had done all that he was supposed to do, he (and we) should say, “We are no more than unprofitable servants.  We simply did was we were obliged to do.”

            His insight was about heaven.  What do you think heaven is like?  Do you think it’s all about pleasure?  Where would that pleasure come from? Would it be from having everything our own way?

            Wouldn’t it make more sense to reflect on Jesus, who was the only One to come from heaven?  And what did He show us about heaven?  He showed us that heaven, and the best use of this life, is to serve one another, not to seek after self, but to become unconscious of self.  Heaven is that blessed state of forgetting about self and serving whoever is put into our path. 

            Our world encourages us to be self-seeking and seek after fame, fortune and pleasure.  But Jesus shows us that the far better way is to be free from feeling needy about our reputation, or about our riches, or our health, or even our happiness.  Real happiness does not come from getting our own way.  Nor does happiness come from being concerned about self, or about proving ourselves, or presenting a false image to the world.

            Real happiness comes from doing for others without counting the cost to ourselves, without expecting a reward.  Real happiness comes from the sheer act of doing for others.  Our labors are themselves our reward!  Therefore we too can say, “We are but unworthy servants who have simply done what we were supposed to do.”

            So, how does all of this match up with today’s emphasis on prayer as we heard in the Scriptures?  Another story will help.  While my friend and I were in Santa Fe we took a ride over to Chimayo, a pilgrimage site in the hills between Santa Fe and Taos.  It’s famous for being holy ground where miracles happen. 

            While I was praying in the church, something happened to me.  This past summer I was relieved of all pain for about 2 months.  Then, at the end of the summer, pain came back to me in full fury.  Very discouraging.  So, I had in my mind to go to Chimayo and ask, yet again, for a healing.  I indeed felt like the widow in the Gospel begging to be heard.  I also felt like Moses getting weary of praying for victory over my enemy of pain. 

            Now, I am a man of prayer.  I pray a lot.  And I have prayed again and again for release from pain.  Pain can make us very conscious of self.  But while I was there in the church where miracles take place, I found myself praying: Lord, forget about the release from pain.  Rather, Lord, give me a deeper taking in of the insight of my friend:  that freedom and happiness come not from my getting my way, but becoming free of self-consciousness. 

            How many of us are like the widow in today’s Gospel, feeling that the Lord does not hear our prayers and does not give us the answer we are looking for? 

            Yet Jesus tells us to keep praying and not lose heart.  Why is God slow to answer our prayers?  Well, my Chimayo experience tells me that if we keep praying, the very thing we want God to do for us may in time become no longer what we desire -- because something far more important becomes what we really desire.

            The temptation for us, when we feel that God does not answer our prayers, is to give up praying.  That’s the worst thing we can do.  Why?  Because when we stop praying, we cut ourselves off from God and we sail out into the future all alone, without the grace God gives us to find our way.  If we keep praying, we will see that the answer lies in a change within us!

Homily for Sunday, October 3, 2010

"If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you would say to this mulberry tree, 'Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.”

            Today let’s do an evaluation of our faith.  I don’t mean, let’s criticize our faith.  Nor do I mean, let’s decide what in our Catholic Faith we want to believe in and what we don’t want to believe in.  If we have faith the size of a mustard seed, we are not persons who want to move through a celestial department store looking for good deals on pieces of faith that are acceptable to us.  Leave that approach for the tepid of faith. 

            Instead, let’s take a look with St. Thomas Aquinas at what it is we believe in and how well our lives are ordered around our beliefs. Aquinas lived 800 years ago, but his teachings are more needed today than ever.  He teaches that we human beings are wired for God and for the infinite truth of who God really is.  Despite our being made that way, we in our fallen condition choose to believe in and worship finite gods; and when we do that we wind up getting destroyed by these false gods.

            Every false god that people fall down to worship fits into one of 4 idols: the idol of wealth; the idol of pleasure; the idol of power; or the idol of honor.

            Let’s look at those idols and let’s each of us do a bit of soul searching to see if we are misguided in what we worship.

            Wealth.  Think of how our society is geared and think about what we encourage our children to strive for.  Is it not wealth?  And those of us who have some degree of wealth, do we not see it as a very good thing?  After all, it enables us to do so many things, go so many places.  But look how awry it can go.  Just yesterday I was reading about what is to me a new trend: a child-free existence.  Persons go online to seek out others who wish to be child-free so they can be free from having to spend their fortune on raising children.

            The problem with wealth as an idol is that a little bit of wealth can give an immediate buzz and after that buzz fades, the fix is on to strive for more, and then more, and then more wealth.  But in doing this we wound ourselves and start bleeding spiritually from this false worship.  Eventually I find myself saying, “All my dreams have become true but I find myself miserable.”

            Pleasure.  All the time these idol worshipers spend their energy by seeking after the next party, or the next drinking session or the next sexual encounter.  It’s a never ending drive, and as with all addictions, if one gets a taste of pleasure and starts adoring it, then after the initial buzz, one goes on the merry-go-round of seeking pleasure as one’s main occupation.  Ultimately it steals away any desire for the true God and leaves the pleasure seeker unable to deal with suffering while heading for perdition. 

            Power.  JR Tolkien saw that power is the strongest of all desires and the most seductive.  If you get a little power, then you want more, and then after that buzz fades, you get into the cycle of becoming addicted to power over others.  This one becomes the control freak, and runs roughshod over everyone, yet has very little control over his own life. However, God, the real God, will eventually demand that we surrender all our power over to Him as we come face to face with what we have done with our lives. But unable to surrender, what will become of this one’s final days?

            Honor.  This is the person who always wants an Attaboy, craves attention, worships at the altar of self and does not want to say, “I have only done my duty.” Instead, “Praise  me!  Help me celebrate being me!”  Such a person wants recognition, wants titles and degrees and wants everyone to know just how great you are.  Ah, but the Gospel says, “Beware when all speak well of you.”  After all, God, the real God, will call you to do something that will not bring you honor, but will bring you wide scale disapproval. If you come to worship the real God then be ready for the scandal of the cross on which died the Lord of all, stripped naked, scourged and nailed to an instrument of torture.  Utterly deprived of honor.  

            All 4 of these idols cannot satisfy our deepest desires and will destroy us if we do not come to worship the one true God, and God alone. “If today you have heard His voice, harden not your hearts.”

Homily for Sunday, September 26, 2010

How would be a modern day indictment be comparable to the Prophet Amos and his words to us in our first reading?  Amos had a lot to say to the complacent who were insulated from the suffering of other human beings.  Is that not the same indictment in Jesus’ parable about Lazarus and the rich man who never noticed the poor man at his front door?  Even to day the complacent continue in their comfort while the needy cry out to no avail.

            Every age has its problems, just as every person has his or her own problems. But today’s Scriptures invite us to discover the antidote for the overweening vice of our time, a complacency that can so easily leave us like the rich man in the Gospel, completely unaware of Lazarus just outside our line of sight.

Complacency builds on the vices of greed, self-indulgence and blindness to the needs of others.  And complacency’s reward is boredom.

            The antidotes for these vices are two virtues that we need to beg God for: solidarity and simplicity.

            Solidarity.  Solidarity is the opposite of complacency. Through this virtue our lives become injected with courage to think outside the box, and to see human life in a whole new way, with less self-interest and with less boredom.

            Solidarity is the virtue of seeing that we and all human beings are interconnected.  Instead of upward mobility as our first aim, solidarity is a form of downward mobility.  This downward mobility puts its emphasis on people rather than on possessions, on action on behalf of justice rather than on behalf of the ego, and on the God of hope rather than on the god of greed.

            Solidarity shows us the humbling truth that all of us are of a broken, fallen human condition.  When we recognize our solidarity with all human beings, and when we choose not to set ourselves as somehow better than, smarter than, or luckier than the Lazaruses at our door, then we can see more clearly our own poverty before God.  Then, when we truly grasp our own poverty before God, when we sense, to our core, that we are all in need of God’s grace, that we all stand as beggars before God, then we’ll think differently about our image.

Instead of presenting to the world some false image of success, beauty, youth, we will become much more interested in the reality of who we really are.  Instead of investing in superficialities, like how we look, what fashions we wear, how large our home is, we will become far more interested in realizing how needy we really are.  And, if we dare rub shoulders with the poor, we discover that they teach us how much we really need each other and how deep is our need for God.  Who of us here really wants the complacency of the rich man, and then have to face the great chasm separating us from Paradise?

            Simplicity.  Simplicity is the virtue that helps us grow in our sense of solidarity with all human beings. Simplicity is a practical way of trying to live more and more in harmony with the earth.  By choosing to live lives of simplicity, instead of extravagance or waste, we know our solidarity with those who will come after us.  Simplicity is the decision to believe that more is not better.  It is a freedom from giving into the inordinate human desire for more -- and more.

            Simplicity has us focus on being, rather than having, on inner beauty than on outer appearance, on true liberation than on the false freedoms we are fed by our consumerist society.  By choosing a simple lifestyle we dare to question all the premises of the global marketplace.  Simplicity helps us gain the wisdom to see that material prosperity, strangely enough, has not made us better people, or happier people. 

            “But you, child of God, pursue righteousness, devotion, faith, love, patience, and gentleness. Compete well for the faith.”  Compete with your inner passions and choose solidarity and simplicity.  “Lay hold of eternal life, to which you were called when you made the noble confession in the presence of many witnesses.”  Let now stand and make our noble confession in the presence of each other, witnesses to our confession of faith.

[Recommended reading: Globalization, Spirituality, and Justice - by Daniel G. Groody, Orbis Books]

Homily for Sunday, September 19, 2010

Imagine you are the property manager for some real estate investor who owns a goodly number of properties.  You have many responsibilities: collect rents, pay taxes and other bills, deal with the home owners associations, hire people to make repairs and cut the grass, maintain the aesthetics of the property, attend to the complaints of the renters and neighbors, and turn over the profits to the owner.

                Depending on the owner, you would enjoy a certain amount of freedom in getting all of your tasks accomplished, but you would also be accountable to the owner for a good profit and for the integrity of solid and ethical business practices.  

                So, if I were the property manager, I would enjoy a lot of freedom, but I would also have a lot to be accountable for.  

                So also for every one of us.  We enjoy a lot of freedom; it’s called free will.  But we are also going to be held accountable for what we do with our freedom.

                The biblical term for the one who is responsible for the management of the Lord’s holdings is a “steward.”  And stewardship is the practice of recognizing that I am in charge of everything that comes my way, and I am responsible to the real owner, the Lord.

                If we believe and accept our baptism, then we recognize that we have been bought, and at the price of the death of Jesus on the cross.  So, we are not our own.  We belong to Christ.  We are His, and He has given us all that we have, and all that we are, to advance the Kingdom of God, that is to do His will, not our own.  

                If we are not our own, nor are the things we have.  They belong to God.  We steward them for Him. A huge attitude adjustment is needed here, because this is not how the world thinks. Even our bodies are not ours.  They are God’s body; after all we are the Body of Christ.  We are given these temporary bodies to steward and take care of until death.  Then we will receive our permanent bodies at the resurrection of the dead.  The body we have now is mortal, it will pass away.  And God asks us to steward it as we steward every other thing in our lives.  So, I cannot say, “It’s my body and I will do with it what I want.”

Our inclination is toward individualism, which emphasizes, “I was created for myself so that I can satisfy all my needs and wants.”  Not so!  Nowhere in Christianity do we find this concept.  Rather, we are created by God, for God, to serve Him in this world by being responsible for the common good, and to be happy with Him in the next.  

                God owns everything. When I accept that, then I begin to understand that I am a steward, a caretaker, a property manager and I realize the fiduciary trust the Lord have given to me: to tend to all that I have under my control as God’s faithful steward.

Even our children are given to us not to be our possession, but to be guided and cared for so they can eventually take their place as persons who are responsible to the Lord for all that He has given, and will give, to them.

                If I am not my own, then all the things I possess, are not mine either.  They are lent to me by God – for a time – so that I may exercise good stewardship on behalf of God, the real owner.

                Did you notice in the story Jesus tells in the Gospel that “the master commended that dishonest steward for acting prudently. For the children of this world are more prudent in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light.”

                Jesus is not suggesting that we be dishonest, but He is telling us that we can get very clever in our business side of life, but be terribly neglectful of our spiritual lives, so that we put ourselves at great risk.  Then Jesus goes on to say, “I tell you, make friends for yourselves with dishonest wealth, so that when it fails, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings.”

                The Lord is telling us to be good stewards.  Manage everything in our lives as if we were the Lord’s property manager – because we are!  Let us learn how to ask the Lord to be a part of every decision we make.  That’s being a good steward.

Homily for Sunday, September 12, 2010

The neighborhood one block west of Broadway was told Thursday night to be ready to evacuate at a moment’s notice if the winds should bring the fire over the mountain and into the city.  So, being only a block away, I started making a plan in case the fire did indeed come our way.  I asked Father Miljenko to be ready to rescue the Blessed Sacrament and necessary liturgical items from the church, and our chapels.  Then I started making a list of what I would take if we had to leave suddenly.  As I looked over that list I realized how relatively little I needed to take.  Since we didn’t need to evacuate, my question now is: How much of my stuff can I now share with those who have lost everything?

            Such a catastrophe also puts into better perspective the very familiar Prodigal Son parable in today’s Gospel.

            The younger son did indeed lose everything, even his self-respect.  And the older son, who didn’t lose anything, never enjoyed what he did have.  He had become very dutiful, but very bitter at the same time.  He had no joy in his heart and could not see what the father saw: the reason to be joyful and forgiving.

            The younger son, when he was in dire straights, came “to his senses,” the text says.  You know: that very rare commodity, common sense, which is not so common, after all.  What brought on his coming to his senses?  It was that he was so desperate that he was desirous of even eating the corn husks that had been thrown to the pigs.  Imagine, a Jew reduced to tending the one animal that was symbolic of everything unclean in the world.  And eating corn husks is just filling the belly with no nourishment at all.  This is symbolic of our misguided attempts to seek satisfaction in things that cannot satisfy.

            Sometimes common sense only comes to us when we have been brought so utterly low that we can go no lower.  This is what happened to the younger son.

            Notice that the father allows all of this to happen.  Notice, first of all, that the father gives in to his son’s demand that he receive his inheritance as if it were owed to him, even while his father was yet very much alive.  This offending son says, in effect, to his father, “To me you are dead!  I’ve had it with living here! I’m outta here; and I want my inheritance now!”

            What father would give in to such an insolent demand from such an offensive son?  And yet, the father Jesus presents to us is exactly that indulgent.  And we know that Jesus is revealing to us the kind of Father He knows and wants us to know.

            The real actor in this story is the father, an image of God the Father.  He allows us absolute freedom; and even finances it if we wish.  But if we misuse that freedom to the point of being brought to ruin, even then the Father still loves us. 

            Missing his father’s home is what makes the younger son realize that his selfish pursuits have only made his life a shambles. That’s when he makes his way back to his father and his father’s house.  How often does it happen that we forget about the Father’s love until we botch things up so badly that we are brought to our knees and then we make a return to our Father’s house?  How many here have wandered away from the Father’s house and then made their way back when all else was lost?

            Then, there’s the other son, the dutiful one, the one who did everything right, the one who never left home, the one who obeyed every one of his father’s orders, the one who had no clue as to what made living in the father’s house an image of heaven.  He had no clue as to what life with the Father was all about.  All he could do was to be dutiful and count up and remember every offense he could think of.  And yet the Father comes out to him, not leaving him to stew in his juices, but he comes out to him and pleads for him to enter the banquet of life and reconciliation.

            On this weekend when we are extremely sensitive to those who have lost their homes in the Fourmile Canyon Fire, let us take stock of what it means for us to abide in our Father’s house.  If the fire can do anything for us, let it bring us to appreciate what we have, living in the Father’s house, and let us share with those who have lost everything.

Homily for Sunday, September 5, 2010

Did it ever occur to you, 

when you pray 

the First Joyful Mystery, 

the Annunciation, 

what was being asked 

of Mary? 

She was being asked to surrender to the mysterious, incomprehensible will of God: to be a virginal mother, and to be the Mother of God.  Such things were impossible, and yet the angel waited for her answer.  Was it her enthusiasm for God, or her youth and idealism that led her to say, “I am the handmaid of the Lord, let it be done to me as you say”?

            Surrender to the will of God; accept the impossible; be open to things beyond you; you can do the impossible, if the impossible is what God asks of you.

            However, surrendering goes against every basic instinct of ours.  By our fallen nature, by our pride, by our assertion of self, we desire to be in control; and we see surrendering as a sign of weakness.  But what could be stronger than a willingness to trust God so much that if He asks the impossible of us, then we will do the impossible, if He but gives us the grace to do it.

            When a spouse has been unfaithful can we find it in ourselves to be forgiving?  Impossible, you say?  By God’s grace, it is not impossible.  If you have a pregnancy that indicates a probable deformity in the child, can we find it in ourselves to proceed with the pregnancy and even bring a deformed child into our lives and treasure that child as much as a healthy child?  Impossible, you say?  But by God’s grace, it not impossible.

            When a couple considers the number of children they will have, is there any openness to asking God what His desires are?  Or do we seize control and limit procreation without even asking the Lord what His desires are for us?

            Every human being is sooner or later going to come face to face with a decision: surrender to the will of God, or continue to assert self over and against God.

            Jesus tells us dramatically today to learn how to surrender, for this is the real way to live.  Consider the parable about the army that is twice the size of the other army.  The Lord is telling us that His army is far stronger than ours is; and unless we learn how to surrender to His will, we will spend our lives in a state of battle weariness. If we want to run our lives as if God did not exist and not let Him in on our planning, then we will just get so far in building our lives and will not be able to finish in His grace.

            An excellent example of learning how to surrender is the Letter to Philemon by St. Paul.  Philemon was a wealthy member of the church in Colossae, where Paul had been and had evangelized the people there to create a Christian community.  Philemon was in Paul's debt because he had been converted by Paul. 

Some time later, when Paul was visiting and evangelizing Ephesus, things got rather hot for Paul.  The artisans there realized that Paul’s message about Jesus would mean the eventual elimination of the greatest engine of their economy: silver statue making.  They made thousands of statues of the local idol, Artemis, and now Paul was talking about a God who did not reside on the local mountain but in the hearts of those who believed in Jesus.  Their economy was in danger and they led a rebellion against Paul which landed Paul in jail.

            While Paul was in jail, he met Philemon’s runaway slave, Onesimus, and led him into knowing about Jesus and being baptized.  When the sentence Onesimus was serving was finished, he was about to be transported back to Philemon to serve as his slave yet again.  So Paul writes a letter, asking Philemon to treat Onesimus as a brother, not as a slave deserving punishment. 

            Then Paul tells Philemon how he would have loved to have Onesimus work with him in spreading of the Gospel, and says, “But I did not want to do anything without your consent, so that the good you do might not be forced but voluntary.”

            My brothers and sisters, Jesus is telling us today that in the end we will all see that surrendering to him and to His will voluntarily is the way to life, indeed is the way to eternal life.  However, if we persist in self-assertion, self-importance, and self-will, we will lose our way.  Let instead learn how to surrender to the will of God - voluntarily.

Homily for Sunday, August 30, 2010

Have you ever met someone with a deep abiding sense of entitlement?  You know: someone who thinks and acts in such a way that presumes that everyone else should adjust their lives so this entitled person gets what he or she wants.  And if entitled people do not get what they want, then watch out for the wrath that is about to spew forth from their mouths.

            We see this sense of entitlement in kids’ sports programs when a dad demands that his son get more play time because, “My son is the best player on the team and deserves to get more play time than every other team mate gets.”

            We see this sense of entitlement in the work place when one worker thinks the rules do not apply to her.  If work begins at 8 AM, the entitled person will saunter in at 8:30 or even at 9 o’clock.

Or, if no personal phone calls are allowed on work time, or no internet use is allowed for personal surfing of the web, then, "These rules simply do not apply to me because I am entitled."

            If I am an entitled parent of an entitled child in school, but my child gets corrected by the teacher and principal, then all hell breaks loose because surely the teacher and principal are in the wrong!

            If I am a spouse with this sense of entitlement, then the spoken or unspoken message to the other spouse is that all necessary adjustments should be made, "So I can be happy."

            In this surreal world of entitlement then, if an unexpected pregnancy comes along, then I am entitled to think that this child must die so I can live the way I want.  Or, if the pregnancy continues until the second amniocentesis, when it is discovered that there may be some deformity in the child, then I am entitled to be free from such problems, even if a child must die.

            If I think that life is unfair, or if I think that I shouldn’t have to deal with the problems that come along in life, then I am living a lie: the lie is that somehow I, the great I, should be exempt from this kind of suffering that is the lot of other people, surely not me!

            If I think I deserve better, or if I think I don’t deserve this (whatever the “this” is), then I am living under the illusion that entitled persons live under.

            If I have some traumatic event come along that makes my life miserable, then in my entitlement I will think: I want my life back!  Remember, that was the complaint of the BP executive whose yachting was interfered with because of the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico.  Talk about being entitled!

            This sense of entitlement was at play at the dinner Jesus was invited to.  The other guests thought that they were in a position that entitled them to keep an eye on Jesus to discover what missteps He might make; they thought they could sit in judgment of Him.  And in their “me first” mentality, they went looking for the best seats at the table.  He taught them a thing or two in His parable about humility. 

            Jesus also took the occasion to address the universal sin of pride, of looking down on the less fortunate people in life.

            The entitled person thinks he deserves all the good things in life; and does not deserve anything bad.  It’s all an illusion.  The truth is that everything is a gift.  We have done nothing that earns us salvation.  Salvation is a gift.  Blessings are a gift; so are the problems of life. 

If I see everything as a gift, even the crosses that come along, then I will not be an entitled, arrogant person with a sense of superiority.  Instead I will move into a right relationship with God, ever increasing in my gratitude for His gifts.

I’ll see things as they are.  When I see things as they are, then I will be standing in the truth.  And the truth is this:

I am a sinner, but I am loved.  

I am so undeserving, but oh, so blessed.

Now that’s humility!

Homily for Sunday, August 22, 2010

So, Lord,

are there many

who are going to be

saved?  

“Wrong question.  The right question would be: what must you do to be saved?”  

Why, Lord, is that a wrong question?  I’d really like to know how all of this works out.

“It’s a wrong question because you’re not taking seriously enough your own salvation.  Once you’re well on the way, then we’ll look at other people’s salvation.”

OK, then what must I do to be saved? 

“Ah!  Aim to get into the Kingdom of God by way of the narrow gate, for many I tell you will seek to enter but will not be strong enough.”

What is the narrow gate?

“Do you not remember My saying, ‘I am the gate?  Whoever enters through me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture.’ Salvation is experienced by going through Me.  Remember that I have also told you that to be saved you must love the Lord your God with all your strength.”

But Lord, what does it mean to love You with all of our strength.  I know what was said by a French bishop, Blessed Chaminade, who lived through the reign of terror during the French Revolution.  He said that to love God with one’s whole strength means to observe all of God’s laws, to conform to His will, to employ in His service (without reserve) all that we possess, and to be devoted to His service with all the fervor and all the intensity of which our nature is capable.

            “Exactly!  But there are two things more that are needed today.  One is being careful of how to interpret things; and the other is the need to spread the Good News.”

            Lord, on that matter of being careful on how to interpret the events of life: do You mean that we should look upon all struggles, sufferings, and trials as Your disciplining us?

            “Yes, too many people think that I am not a part of their lives.  Do you remember My saying that not even a sparrow falls to the ground with out My Father’s knowledge, and that every hair of your head is counted?  So, of course, every event in life is packed with grace.  To see your trials as discipline is to know that a loving God is with you in every event, especially events of suffering.  When you have that sense of God’s presence and care for you in every moment of life, then you can turn to Me and ask for My help, My guidance, or strength to endure the discipline and to learn from it.  I have never promised you that you will not suffer; but I have promised you that I will be with you in your trials.”

            “Too many think that I have abandoned them in their trials and then they live as if I were not a part of everything that goes on.  That’s the wide way, the way that leads to destruction.

            “Before we leave this conversation about salvation, I want you to know that salvation is open to everyone; and all those who believe in Me are called by Me to go out into the world and proclaim this good news, even ‘to Tarshish, Put and Lud, Mosoch, Tubal and Javan, (in other words, everywhere, even) to the distant coastlands that have never heard of My fame, or seen My glory; and they shall proclaim My glory among the nations.’
            "Yes, salvation is open to everyone, but if people do not take the offer of salvation seriously, then the time will come when the door will be locked and, despite last minute appeals that are too late, the terrible words will be said, Depart from Me all you evil doers.”

            This is why I recommend to you the Fatima prayer that was added to each decade of the rosary almost 100 years ago: O my Jesus, forgive us our sins, save us from the fires of hell.  Lead all souls to heaven, especially those most in need of your mercy.

            This is a prayer that takes seriously the care we should take about our salvation and the necessity of caring that others also will strive to enter by the narrow gate.

Homily for Sunday, August 8, 2010

"For where your treasure is, there also will your heart be."  

Did you know that missing Sunday Mass is a mortal sin; and did you know that the remedy is going to confession?  Remember, it’s one of the 10 big ones: You shall keep holy the day of the Lord.  Of course, as in all cases of mortal sin, there has to be knowledge that missing Mass on Sunday (or Saturday evening) is a mortal sin.  Then, one has to be free in choosing not to go to Mass; and then one has to give full consent of the will to break this commandment.  There can be extenuating circumstances to remove any culpability on missing Sunday Mass, like sickness, attending to someone who is in dire circumstances, an impossibility to get there due to old age, etc.

Let me explain why missing Sunday Mass is a mortal sin.

Faith is a precious gift given by God directly to the soul.  “Faith is the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things not seen,” as we heard in the second reading.  Like all gifts it can be taken for granted, or it can be thrown away, or it can be opened up and treasured.  

            If we open up the gift of faith, it suffuses our interpretation of all that happens in life.  Faith strengthens us in our daily trials; faith encourages us in our experience of the valley of tears; and faith enables us to see the Hand of God at work in every event of our lives, even the most terrible events.  Faith made it possible for Abraham to put his confidence in God’s promises to him and Sarah, that those promises would indeed be fulfilled. 

            In our own day, an age of disbelief, faith is easily lost.  Ask any college student who leaves home as a faith-filled high school graduate who in college finds one attack after another for daring to believe in “all those myths.”  Ask anyone who has faced a tremendous tragedy how easy it would be to give up on the faith of our fathers, holy faith, when tested by tragedy.    

            Yet, tragedy is when faith is tried like gold in a furnace; and when purified by trial it becomes the most precious gift in our lives.  Some of us here know exactly what this kind of tried and true faith is like.  When we have gone through extreme testing, our faith is more valuable than any possession.

            How awful, how dreadful to lose one’s faith!  Imagine having to face disaster, catastrophe or heartbreak without the consolation of our faith!  Yet some choose to throw away this gift given to us when we were baptized.  

It begins when we choose something else over God.  It begins when make a deliberate decision to stay away from the banquet table of the Lord.

            Those who are Eucharist-fed, those who hunger for the extraordinary union we have with Christ in Holy Communion, have found the true object of their desires.  It is the Lord!  And in Him we can do all things, face all trials, climb any wall, and endure whatever comes – because of the great love of the Lord.  Because of faith, I know I am not alone.  I know there is a future that we call the Kingdom of God, which becomes the greatest of desires for one who knows he or she is the beloved of God.

            Choosing something else than the Sunday Eucharist is a first step away from faith. It is choosing some treasure other than God.  Missing a second Sunday Mass becomes easier.  Attending Sunday Mass occasionally becomes a matter of doing God a favor.  Letting months pass since the last Sunday Mass allows our faith to pass away as well; and then we find that we disagree with this or that, and instead of humbly coming for the Judge of all, we become the judge ourselves.  We have exonerated ourselves and now see that we are in a position to find what is lacking in that which the saints have died for.

            Missing Sunday Mass is in the mortal sin category because losing one’s faith is the worst disaster than can come upon anyone.  Taking even one step in that direction is of the gravest concern for one’s soul.  For one who loses the faith chooses to live in fear and cannot believe Jesus when He says:

“Do not be afraid any longer, little flock, for your Father is pleased to give you the kingdom.  Sell your belongings and give alms.  Provide money bags for yourselves that do not wear out, an inexhaustible treasure in heaven that no thief can reach nor moth destroy. 
For where your treasure is, there also will your heart be."