Feast of Saint Andrew, Apostle

Lectionary: 684

If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead,  you will be saved.
For one believes with the heart and so is justified, and one confesses with the mouth and so is saved. The Scripture says, No one who believes in him will be put to shame.

 

The feast of Saint Andrew invariably falls toward the beginning of Advent. One of Jesus's first disciples leads us into this holy season. And so it is fitting that we should hear Saint Paul’s credal statement from his Epistle to the Romans, If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.

With these words sounding in our ears we are ushered into the Christmas season as into a vast and most sacred basilica. There are several great assurances in the following sentence about justification, salvation, and vindication. “No one who believes in him will be put to shame.”

A world without faith must be managed with fearful instruments of force, manipulation, threats, and persuasive punishment. An especially effective instrument is shame. Those who were shamed physically, intellectually, morally, and sexually from the first days of their life might never rebel against the managers of this world. They are so conflicted with repressed, tormented memories of their weakness they dare not raise their voices even to warn others of danger.

Crucifixion was a very effective weapon of shame as the Romans used it. Victims were suspended near a well-travelled road into and out of the city so that their families, relatives, friends, admirers, disciples, and fellow citizens could hear and see their naked helplessness. Victims cried with fading strength to passersby for help. They begged for relief, water, and food even as they saw people hurrying by, who would not even look at them.

I met an African bishop who remembered as a boy when a band of terrorists invaded his village and murdered one man. They left his body in the street and told the villagers they would kill anyone who removed or buried the body. The corpse lay there for several days until hyenas carried it away. The boy and his companions avoided that intersection for many years after, often walking long distances around the haunted site.

But Saint Paul assures us, “No one who believes in him will be put to shame.” If the crucifixion of Jesus was traumatic for his disciples, his resurrection overwhelmed and healed its pain, grief, and sorrow. The sight of the Risen Lord elated his followers; they saw his wounds like gleaming jewels, more precious than gold or silver, more beautiful than diamonds and sapphires.  They saw his smile and completely forgot the horror of Friday. His immediate presence reassured them of forgiveness for their abandoning him; his gaze healed their scarred consciousness of guilt. Believing in him, they dismissed every feeling, impulse, and thought of shame. The sting of humiliation was gone.

The secular world uses shame more subtly than the Roman soldiers, but it still insists that we conform to its version of Christmas. We should max out our credit cards, eat lavishly and drink foolishly. We should get the Spirit of Christmas or risk being called Scrooge. There can be no relief due to unexpected developments “It’s such a shame that an epidemic would cancel our Christmas! We won’t let that happen, now will we?”

The apostles throughout our history remind us of what’s important. At the Lord’s invitation, Saint Andrew dropped his fishing nets and followed. We might appreciate the world’s occasional nods toward the Christ in Christmas, but we cannot be distracted for we also make intense preparation for the feast. With the Sacrament of Penance, prayer, and works of charity, we “turn away from sin and live by the Gospel.”

First Sunday of Advent

 Lectionary: 2

You, LORD, are our father, our redeemer you are named forever. Why do you let us wander, O LORD, from your ways, and harden our hearts so that we fear you not?
Return for the sake of your servants...

The scriptures, although they are ancient and seem to come down to us from a world that is all but alien to our experience of technology, economics, society, and politics, often sound very familiar. What Christian doesn't ask of God, "Why do you let us wander into sin?" 

Today, as we enter the Season of Advent, our faithful Church, ever ancient, ever new, invites us to turn away from our wandering and, again, learn the Fear of the Lord. 

Rightly do the ancient authorities distinguish between ordinary fear and the fear of the Lord. No one needs to teach me a fear of heights, fire, or wild animals. And it takes little experience to learn a dread of electricity, speeding vehicles, and deadly weapons. But we must cultivate the fear of the Lord. It is a lifelong pursuit, a privilege and pleasure, a source of courage and confidence. Those who fear the Lord fear nothing else. There might come a day when I master high voltage electricity, fast cars, and deadly weapons; and feel only a healthy respect for them; but I will always be a trembling novice in God's Presence. 

There are innumerable stories in the scriptures of men and women who, realizing they are in God's presence, tremble with fear. In many cases, they are commanded to put their fears aside and listen to what is said. In some cases -- I think especially of Moses before the burning bush -- they are told, "This is a holy place!" They should act with reverence; that is, with holy fear. 

The world around us has no time for reverence as they rush pellmell into the Christmas shopping season. They did not hesitate to announce its coming weeks ago! Some have already put up their Christmas trees! 

But as Advent comes upon God's holy people we pause for a moment, as we might in the entrance of a colossal cathedral. We look at ourselves. Am I dressed for the occasion? Am I ready to experience this place, or should I come back later, when I have settled some things? Will I see the mysteries enacted again, as I have before, or am I too preoccupied with immediate crises? 

Even as we pause to breathe, compose, and recollect we hear the Church pleading,

Oh, that you would rend the heavens and come down,
with the mountains quaking before you,
while you wrought awesome deeds we could not hope for,
such as they had not heard of from of old.

Advent has arrived; our prayer has begun. And so we pray, 

Lord, make us turn to you; let us see your face and we shall be saved. 

Saturday of the Thirty-fourth Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 508

Beware that your hearts do not become drowsy from carousing and drunkenness and the anxieties of daily life, and that day catch you by surprise like a trap. For that day will assault everyone who lives on the face of the earth. Be vigilant at all times and pray that you have the strength to escape the tribulations that are imminent and to stand before the Son of Man.”

Wow! Is there some divine conspiracy afloat that this gospel should appear today? The world, and the United States in particular, was caught by surprise like a trap by the appearance of a new, unprecedented virus. In less than a year, an unknown illness has swept the Earth and swept away over a million lives. While some might argue they died of "other causes including old age," there are always other causes when someone dies. People die of "complications due to" cancer. A gunshot will kill you if it hits certain organs; and not if it doesn't. 

This virus hit us when we were not prepared; in the United States when both major parties were preoccupied with an empeachment effort. Had it not failed we might be better off. The vice-president doesn't appear as incompetent, though he has not proven otherwise. 

The virus has revealed what everyone should have known and competent authorities have been saying  -- that health care in the United States has been overstressed and underfunded for several years. Given our dread of taxes and our love of diversion, we are not willing to pay the cost of caring for one another. We're not committed to maintaining anyone's health. We can't afford our own medicine. 

And many are eager to risk their health on insane habits like smoking, drinking, eating, and inertia. It's as if they are daring the snake to bite and the mine to explode. Meanwhile, their loved ones -- spouses, children, siblings -- watch helplessly as they wait for the fools to beg for help. 

The Gospel often invites us to be prepared, pay attention, maintain situational awareness, and standard precautions. The Old and New Testaments are profoundly aware of the cost of foolishness, what we might call stupidity. 

Will we learn anything from the experience? 

Our religion offers an answer: 

Unless the LORD build the house,
they labor in vain who build.
Unless the LORD guard the city,
in vain does the guard keep watch.
It is vain for you to rise early
and put off your rest at night,
To eat bread earned by hard toil—
all this God gives to his beloved in sleep. Psalm 127

Recovering from Covid-19 and four years of the Trump administration means returning to the Lord. Human wisdom will never know enough or be clever enough to navigate the perils of human existence. We're not designed for that. As we enter the Season of Advent, we prepare for the Coming of the Lord. We must welcome him to take charge of our desires, urges, and preferences. We must wait upon him to show us where we go from here. 

Friday of the Thirty-fourth Week in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 507

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth. The former heaven and the former earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. I also saw the holy city, a new Jerusalem,
coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.
 

As assistant pastor of a couple of churches and the pastor of one, I presided over many weddings, and I never saw a bride who wasn't gorgeous. But I have to admit, I sometimes wondered during the prenuptial discussions and the rehearsals, how this was going to work out. By the dressmaker's genius, the art of cosmetologists, and God’s mercy they were drop-dead beautiful. And the grooms were usually presentable too.

As a Catholic and a priest, I sometimes wonder how this Bride of the Church might be "adorned as beautiful as a bride for her husband." The husband, in this case, is the Lord himself; and we hope his bride will do what all brides should do, make him look good!

Revelation says little about the veil, dress, or jewelry of this visionary bride, but much about the fabulous city, the New Jerusalem, which is more glorious than the Emerald City of Oz. it’s twelve apostolic foundations are made of precious stones: jasper, sapphire, chalcedony, emerald, sardonyx, carnelian, chrysolite, beryl, topaz, chrysoprase, hyacinth, and amethyst. In whatever way you imagine this vision, see it as sparkling and splendid. It gleams like the Transfigured Jesus on Mount Tabor, his spectacular resurrection, and his second coming on the clouds of heaven.

How might the actual Church, familiar to you and me, resemble such a vision of beauty? My first reaction might not be good. Like everyone else I've had issues with the Church and sometimes spoken badly of her. 

But then I remember the legend of the deacon Saint Lawrence. He readily agreed to hand over all the treasure of the Church to the emperor who demanded her reputed wealth. As treasurer of the Church he had little choice but to agree, and he asked only three days to amass her assets into one place. When the emperor arrived in the piazza where they had agreed to meet, he found a throng of poor, sick, blind, lame, possessed, and pathetic human beings.

“Behold the treasure of the Church!” Lawrence declared.

The emperor was not amused.

Catholics see the splendor of God in the crucifixion of Jesus. We admire his sacred wounds as precious jewels. We too -- wounded, disappointed, pathetic human beings, claiming for ourselves only our faith in Jesus Christ – are gorgeous in God’s sight.

Our religion teaches us this extraordinary way of seeing. Given that the immense power, beauty, glory, and wisdom of God stagger the imagination, we turn to the opposite. We see the glory of the Incarnation in a single star in a dark sky; we see enormous power in a helpless infant in a manger. A small piece of bread contains the God of the Universe. We are overwhelmed by immensity cloistered in the dear womb of the Virgin, as John Donne said. 

 

Our vision surpasses all the cheap thrills of this world's military parades, Hollywood extravaganzas, and Super Bowl spectacles. Saint John suggests the glory with his twelve sparkling stones, as we see the Lord face to face during the Mass. 

Thanksgiving Day

Lectionary: 943-947

Jesus said in reply, “Ten were cleansed, were they not? Where are the other nine? Has none but this foreigner returned to give thanks to God?” Then he said to him, “Stand up and go; your faith has saved you.”

The word thank or thanks appears fourteen times in the four Gospels. While it's used only once to describe a response to Jesus -- in Luke's account of the Samaritan leper -- it is more often (eight times) used during several stories about the Eucharist. Jesus also thanks the Father (in Mt and Lk) for revealing "these things to infants:" once for hearing his prayer as he calls Lazarus out of the tomb, and twice in parables. (One of them in the prayer of a hypocrite.) 

Speaking only for myself, I wish the preferred Gospel for today were one of the Eucharistic passages. It would better fit our celebration of Thanksgiving, which even in secular America is represented most often by a meal rather than by a parade or football game. 

But if I take issue with this particular gospel appearing every single year as the preferred text for Thanksgiving Day, I also recommend our prayerful consideration of Thanksgiving's origin -- not in Puritan pilgrims in Massachusetts but in Abraham Lincoln's October 3, 1863 proclamation. 

The tragic war, in which more Americans died than any other war, would not end for another six months, when General Lee surrendered at Appomattox, Virginia. Nor would the president live to see the day. (For that we still grieve.) 

In light of Mr. Trump's refusal to recognize the decision of the American people, we should recall General Lee's decision. Historian Jay Winik, author of April 1865, The Month that Saved America, said in a radio interview that Lee's Confederate army was still highly motivated and loyal to their general. He might have commanded them to scatter to the hills with their weapons and outrage, and maintain guerrilla resistance to the Union indefinately. In some places that resistance continued in the form of Jesse Jame's gang and the Ku Klux Klan. 

But Lee was no fool. He had been trained in the art and ethics of war and he knew the suffering an endless war of terror would impose on all Americans, "white" and "black." Unlike Mr. Trump, who knows little of history and nothing of warfare, Lee surrendered. He is remembered today, even by his ancestral opponents, as a man of integrity, courage, and patriotism. 

Our Thanksgiving this year must include an appreciation for the arts of democracy and the willingness to concede defeat and compromise with opponents. No one wins a war of attrition, as Mr. Trump carries out even against his supporters. 

Setting aside that pathetic man, we should remember also how little the Civil War settled. Slavery continued in the forms of share cropping, tenant leasing, segregation, and Jim Crow. Prehistoric attitudes of racism, inherited from our European past, could not be uprooted even by the baptism of blood that was the Civil War. 

Thanksgiving calls us to the altar of our feasting tables where everyone is welcome, regardless of their national origin or religious preference. No one is black, white, red, or yellow. All belong to this one race that still trembles in fear before a relentless pandemic. We come before the Lord as one family, grateful for every single member from greatest to least. 

Dear God, show mercy to your people. 

Wednesday of the Thirty-fourth Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 505

“Great and wonderful are your works,
Lord God almighty.
Just and true are your ways,
O king of the nations.
Who will not fear you, Lord,
or glorify your name?
For you alone are holy.
All the nations will come
and worship before you,
for your righteous acts have been revealed.”


When you love someone you're really happy when they're given a great reward. You have admired this person, and enjoyed their company, and nothing could be more wonderful than to see that person admired, enjoyed, and loved by others. Should anyone ask about you during a celebration in their honor, you would name your relationship to that person. But you're not there to tout yourself; you don't want to take any honor from them. 

At this time of year, we consider the Great Day when Jesus Christ will be revealed to the nations as the Lord of Glory. That revelation will be more than a sign in the sky, it will be as real as an earthquake. It will be an undeniable, unavoidable crisis which will permanently, irrevocable alter everything. Something like an epidemic only more so. Far more so. 

And some people will complain about it for it will be their doom. They will finally realize what we have been saying all along, that "There is no other name in heaven or earth by which we are to be saved!" 

And so we look forward to that wonderful Day of Judgement when the King of Glory comes. 

If we have some trepidation in our hearts, recalling our past sins, we should immediately brush those aside. Our God is God, the Lord and Creator of the Universe, who made Heaven and Earth! Why would I bother to worry about my particular place in Our Savior's Kingdom. Am I so important that I should worry about myself? Am I so faithless that I doubt the Lord will restore all things with Mercy and Justice? God knows I could not do it! Nor anyone else. 

We look forward to that day when the Saints Go Marching In. It will be God's Great Day. Let nothing slow its approach, or spoil its perfect beauty. 

Memorial of Saint Andrew Dung-Lac, Priest, and Companions, Martyrs

Lectionary: 504

“See that you not be deceived,
for many will come in my name, saying,
‘I am he,’ and ‘The time has come.’ 
Do not follow them! 

 

The Gospel teaches us both to trust others intensely, and to practice careful skepticism about other people. If we believe in Jesus, it’s not for what he said of himself but what we saw him do, and for the testimony of God the Father and God the Holy Spirit.

As God’s holy people, we meet in a most sacred place to conduct an intensely personal, yet communal sacrifice. In union with the passion and death of Our Lord Jesus Christ we offer our hearts to Him and to His God and Father. To pray together is to lay our vulnerability before one another; we are defenseless in God’s presence. By our presence and, more especially, by the reception of the Blessed Sacrament, we declare our love for God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength. We are totus tuus, wholly thine. It’s entirely possible that some people, seeing us, will withdraw in embarrassment or laugh in derision.

If this confidence in one another is not immediately apparent when we celebrate the Mass, it is most obvious when we confess our sins to a priest. Not only do we trust that he will forgive us, we hope he never gives a second thought to what he has heard. It wasn’t meant for his ears; it should not affect the way he thinks of us!

And so we hear today’s gospel in the context of our openness to one another, “See that you not be deceived for many will come in my name.” Religion, despite its aspiration to mediate the mind and presence of God, is nonetheless of earth and resembles all earthly things. It can be abused. In fact, it’s so often abused some people suppose it is nothing but abuse. But the Divine Authors of both our Testaments always knew that; and the Church which remembers Judas Iscariot among the Twelve Apostles cannot forget it.

Saint Paul had stern words for those who suppose religion to be a means of gain. They are “people with corrupted minds, who are deprived of the truth.”  He went on to say,

Indeed, religion with contentment is a great gain. For we brought nothing into the world, just as we shall not be able to take anything out of it. If we have food and clothing, we shall be content with that.

Those who want to be rich are falling into temptation and into a trap and into many foolish and harmful desires, which plunge them into ruin and destruction.

Religion inevitably attracts charlatans who exploit the confidence we place in one another. They cause terrible scandal and will certainly suffer an unspeakable punishment.

Even as we hear Jesus urge us to “be not deceived” we should maintain our faith in one another. When Saint Paul insisted, we are saved by faith, that necessarily included our faith in one another; that is, the Church. Those who describe their religion as believing in Jesus without the company of the Church are like the husband who prefers a photo of his wife to the person he married. They worship a fantasy of their own imagination with little connection to Our Lord. 

 

Catholics know that because we cling to the Eucharist; we meet the Lord face to face in the sanctuary of our Church, and time spent apart from the Mass is time preparing for the Mass. 

Optional Memorial of Saint Columban, abbot

Lectionary: 503

“I tell you truly, this poor widow put in more than all the rest; for those others have all made offerings from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, has offered her whole livelihood.”

 

In the hospital ministry I often meet former Catholics and Christians who tell a sad story of disappointment with the Church. They might have been introduced to religious practice as children and accepted without question our standard beliefs, rituals, practices, and moral teachings. As adolescents exposed to a wider world of differing values, they began to question and doubt their training. They saw that good deeds are not always rewarded, and bad deeds are not always punished. They also learned that some Catholics do not demonstrate the values they professed. 

Many were scandalized by the divorce of their parents; and some were traumatized by their own divorce. That spiritual plague cast a pall over all their relationships; it seemed that no one could be trusted. Given the additional abuses of tobacco, alcohol, and other substances plus the demands of an uncaring, competitive society, their faith – which was never deeply rooted – withered and died.

I think of that story when I hear today’s gospel of the widow’s mite. Did she not see the fat cats with their fine clothes, arrogant manners, and snobbish companions? Did she not hear the crowds applauding these blessed betters for their munificence? Did she not feel the worthlessness of her two small copper coins compared to their embroidered sacks of gold and silver coins?

I think she did. But she was compelled to give thanks to God. She had no need to suppose she was superior to others; she knew her worth in God’s sight. She certainly did not see the stranger from Galilee admiring her simplicity. She was not looking for admiration or sympath. Rather, she loved the Lord and would not quench the spirit which compelled her to surrender “her whole livelihood.”

It is that spirit which every Christian must find in their own heart. God’s spirit separates us from the herd and drives us into the Lord’s corral, freeing us from the foolishness around us. We're not watching to imitate what others do; we're watching to imitate what God does for us. If the Church welcomes the whole world into its embrace, you can be sure a lot of people will bring their nonsense with them. That will never be an excuse for my failing to worship God. 

Although Saints Mark and Luke give us no name for the woman -- and we might wish they had that we could canonize her! – she knew her name in God’s presence, even as she knew the Name that none dare speak. Knowing God and known to God, the Christian supports God’s temple, the Church, with time, talent, and treasure.  When we ponder the sacrifice of the Father’s only Begotten Son, we can do no less.

 

The Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe

Lectionary: 160

Thus says the Lord GOD: I myself will look after and tend my sheep. As a shepherd tends his flock when he finds himself among his scattered sheep, so will I tend my sheep. I will rescue them from every place where they were scattered when it was cloudy and dark. 

I myself will pasture my sheep; I myself will give them rest, says the Lord GOD. The lost I will seek out, the strayed I will bring back, the injured I will bind up, the sick I will heal, but the sleek and the strong I will destroy, shepherding them rightly.

Christians who are able to swallow their pride and admit they need good leadership readily turn to the Good Shepherd. 

After a bone-wearying election cycle, as yet unresolved, we are ready to embrace a worthy leader, if only one might appear. 

I have enjoyed long, energetic conversations with Veterans in "substance abuse rehab" about whether the human being has instincts. I argue that we have none; we have only habits. And -- the point! -- habits can be changed, altered, forgotten, or simply "quit." 

But we might have an instinct for flocking like birds, fish, sheep and many other animals. Birds seem to do it without leaders. Feeding, they scan earth, water, and sky for food, while watching one another. When one spots food they go fly toward it; the others, seeing the changed flight and direction, follow suit. But birds also flock, it seems, for the fun of it. Who hasn't watched pigeons and starlings swirling like clouds through the sky in an ecstasy of togetherness? 

Sheep, both wild and domestic, also follow one another. Perhaps wild sheep and goats have their alpha leaders -- I wouldn't know -- but after thousand of years, domesticated sheep follow and rely on shepherds. 

Whether human beings instinctively or habitually their leaders, they do better when they have good leaders. And Christians especially have an instinct -- called the Holy Spirit -- for following their pastors -- a Latin word for shepherds. We cannot know the Lord without the Holy Spirit to lead us to him, and that Spirit gathers us into congregations. 

Self-described Christians who willfully suppress that holy instinct are doomed to sterile extinction. They wander from the fold, fashioning their own moral standards and swearing only by their own opinions. They are lost in the wilderness without progeny. They're sometimes known as goats; and they follow the one who is represented with goat horns and cloven feet. But they do more harm than the silly romantics who call themselves satanists.

Because we welcome the Holy Spirit who guides us with good leaders, we must pray for them -- especially our deacons, priests, and bishops -- and for the discerning spirit that obeys without servility or fawning. We owe our pastors love, support, and respect; and honesty in our discussions with them. We differ from sheep in that we are not stupid! Wise shepherds listen to their flock even as they speak to them, and they speak less than they listen.

Saint John Henry Newman wondered how a pastor could shepherd his flock if he never heard their confessions. He said of the Sacrament:

How many are the souls, in distress, anxiety or loneliness, whose one need is to find a being to whom they can pour out their feelings unheard by the world? Tell them out they must; they cannot tell them out to those whom they see every hour. They want to tell them and not to tell them; and they want to tell them out, yet be as if they be not told; they wish to tell them to one who is strong enough to bear them, yet not too strong to despise them; they wish to tell them to one who can at once advise and can sympathize with them; they wish to relieve themselves of a load, to gain a solace, to receive the assurance that there is one who thinks of them, and one to whom in thought they can recur, to whom they can betake themselves, if necessary, from time to time, while they are in the world. How many a Protestant’s heart would leap at the news of such a benefit, putting aside all distinct ideas of a sacramental ordinance, or of a grant of pardon and the conveyance of grace! If there is a heavenly idea in the Catholic Church, looking at it simply as an idea, surely, next after the Blessed Sacrament, Confession is such. … Oh what piercing, heart-subduing tranquility, provoking tears of joy, is poured, almost substantially and physically upon the soul, the oil of gladness, as Scripture calls it, when the penitent at length rises, his God reconciled to him, his sins rolled away for ever!

The Saint would be saddened if he were to return today and discover how many Roman Catholics shun the Sacrament, avoiding it like Protestant Christians. Many Catholic children have forgotten, if they ever learned, how to examine their conscience, confess their sins, and offer atonement. They are sheep without shepherds. 

This election year has revealed deep pools of racism, distrust, fear, and hatred in our homes and churches. As Advent begins next week, let us return to our Shepherd of Souls through the Sacrament of Penance.

Memorial of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary

 Lectionary: 502

Blessed be the LORD, my rock, 

who trains my hands for battle,

my fingers for war;

My safeguard and my fortress,

my stronghold, my deliverer,

My shield, in whom I take refuge,who subdues peoples under me.

The responsorial psalm today is taken from Psalm 144, one of the "royal psalms." It was a song like the American Hail to the Chief or the British God save the Queen, used on state occasions to honor the king. 

The psalmist intends to remind the king and all the people where their strength and security come from. It is not in force of arms or the hard work of a successful economy. 

Whether we live a thousand years before Christ or two thousand years afterward, we don't kid ourselves into thinking we manage the vagaries of this world. If we enjoy a measure of peace, it's God's gift. If we have adequate income to pay the bills, we thank God who gives us the wherewithal to do that. If our enemies are subdued like the psalmist's, we know it is God who has effected that. 

Nor should anyone suppose they deserve this daily assurance. That predictable stability also comes from God. 

David's kingdom remained united during his and his son Solomon's rule, and then split into the northern kingdom of Israel, and the southern Judah. Neither nation was very powerful, nor was their combined power. Historians tell us they were overrun more than a few times by armies from Asia, Africa, and Europe. Judah managed to survive for over four hundred years, often by forming alliances with Egypt or an Asian powers, much to the consternation of the Hebrew prophets who denounced them. They insisted only God could save them. 

But since neither the rulers nor the people would submit to God's demands that justice and mercy be shown to aliens, widows, and orphans, they had to settle for unholy alliances with foreigners. Of course, that meant they retained their sovereign freedom so long as it fit the purposes of their more powerful neighbors. Israel was overrun in the sixth century bce; and Judah, in the fifth. Since then, Jews have survived admirably as a stateless religion, to the honor of God. 

Jesus ben Sirach in his book Ecclesiasticus shows us where we belong, how we should act, and how we should pray in his 36th chapter:

Come to our aid, O God of the universe,

and put all the nations in dread of you!

Raise your hand against the foreign people,

that they may see your mighty deeds.

As you have used us to show them your holiness,

so now use them to show us your glory.

Thus they will know, as we know,

that there is no God but you.

Give new signs and work new wonders;

show forth the splendor of your right hand and arm.

Our calling is not to be powerful but to be holy. By daily acts of mercy and by justly respecting the dignity of every human being including that of our enemies, we reveal God's holiness to a skeptical world. By protecting us in a turbulent world, by providing us with a measure of prosperity and reasonable stability, God reveals his power. Our faith and devotion in the sight of our foes is a mighty deed; our willingness to forgive, atone, and be reconciled is more astonishing than saying, "Rise and walk." 

Like Jesus on Easter Sunday; we're still here. And God is with us. 

Friday of the Thirty-third Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 501

 

Jesus entered the temple area and proceeded to drive out those who were selling things, saying to them,

“It is written, My house shall be a house of prayer, but you have made it a den of thieves.”

 

Throughout his gospel, Saint Luke stresses the favor that God shows to the poor and lowly. Where Saint Matthew says, “Blessed are poor in spirit,” Saint Luke says simply, “Blessed are the poor.” Mary’s song in the first chapter, upon arriving in Jerusalem and Elizabeth’s house, sounds revolutionary in many ears:

He has shown might with his arm,

dispersed the arrogant of mind and heart.

He has thrown down the rulers from their thrones

but lifted up the lowly.

The hungry he has filled with good things;

the rich he has sent away empty.

Luke tells us that the Infant is announced to poor shepherds near Bethlehem; and revealed to the devout Simeon and Anna in Jerusalem. The Roman and Jewish authorities know nothing about the Baby who will rule with an iron rod. Only the least among us hear the good news.

 

So we cannot be surprised that Mary’s son is angry when he enters the temple in Jerusalem and finds a cacophony of bartering, trading, buying, and selling. “My house” he says, “shall be a house of prayer!”  He must clean his house with a fury like that of the Maccabean army, which rebuilt and purified the temple in 164 BCE.

 

Some people, recalling this and similar passages in the Bible, and innumerable scandalous stories about the Church and money, conclude that a truly spiritual religion should have no money. They might take up a collection for the poor and needy and assign the most competent, trustworthy persons to distribute the funds, but they will build no infrastructure to maintain the faith community. Indeed, the church has survived some difficult periods when it had no buildings, as during the brutal Japanese persecution, and in the German death camps.

Although Jesus may have had a home in Capernaum, he certainly didn’t use it. He remarked, “Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” He maintained his homelessness even as he was crucified outside Jerusalem and buried in a borrowed grave. 

We find neither church buildings nor church construction in the Acts of the Apostles, but they often meet indoors. Philemon, who claimed Onesimus as his slave, certainly had a house large enough to accommodate the local church. The word basilica originally designated large, splendid homes with ballrooms.

Thirteen centuries later, Franciscans would confront the problem of money when Saint Francis died. Brother Elias is still despised among some friars for his campaign to build one of the most important Christian shrines in the world, the basilica in Assisi. Elias believed the Spirit of the saint required a beautiful temple with an original design and pioneering frescoes to describe the revolutionary vision of the Poverello. Were the friars to settle into the old structures their customs and habits would inevitably conform to the old styles.

The Franciscan experience, in particular, reminds us there is no escaping money and its messiness. Although it is measured with numbers it is liquid and those who handle it often get their hands wet. But since the Word of God has made his dwelling among us, we should not hesitate to use money, property, and many forms of infrastructure to promote the Word of God.

With that said, we hear Jesus’s prophetic warning. Custodians of this world's goods, we are only obedient stewards of property and administrators of the mysteries. We own nothing; we claim nothing.

Thursday of the Thirty-Third Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 500

“Worthy are you to receive the scroll and break open its seals, for you were slain and with your Blood you purchased for God those from every tribe and tongue, people and nation. You made them a kingdom and priests for our God, and they will reign on earth.”

 

In today’s first reading we hear a choir of heavenly voices declaring that Jesus -- the Lamb who was slain -- is worthy to receive the scroll and break open its seals. I don’t often hear the word worthy in public discussion.

Our secular culture does not readily recognize worth in people, though it doesn’t hesitate to estimate the worth of property, stocks, bonds, and money. People must earn their standing and position. Their worth is another matter, often estimated with tawdry symbols like $, €, ¥ or £.

 

Trust, of course, is a matter of degrees. We give and withhold trust, measuring it out as we consider persons worthy of it. Naivete is often too ready to trust; cynicism, too reluctant. People marry those they deem supremely worthy of trust; they incarcerate those who have utterly failed the test. We entrust people with offices in government, business, and religion; and hope they prove trustworthy.

It is no small matter to regain the trust of those we have betrayed. We may prove ourselves trustworthy a thousand times over in our own minds, but those proofs might carry no weight for those who were betrayed. If we ask them to trust us again, to bestow that merit upon us despite what has happened, we must wait upon their decision. We can neither control nor force them.

As I have considered the troubles of our time and especially the complaints against God, the Church, and religion in general, I have thought that this Man Jesus is worthy of my trust. I have contemplated his life, teachings, sufferings, and death and realized he trusted his Father utterly, and invites me also to trust his Father. I believe his faith in the Father was vindicated when he was raised up on the third day. His resurrection was far more than a resuscitation, which could not have justified the pain and humiliation he endured. By the resurrection the Father has revealed the Glory he gives to his Son, who has proven himself worthy to be the Son of God. He could not have done so -- he could not be the Son of God -- without the Crucifixion. 

Moreover, with all the Church I am drawn to this demonstration of trust and fidelity. If a devoted husband and a faithful wife naturally draw admirers who want to know them better, all the more are we drawn to this Man and His Father. As he said, "When I am lifted up I will draw all people to myself." As iron is drawn to a magnet, so we must come to God. 

This trust is a gift we give to God. It is an oblation, a gift received which we give back. We could not believe in, or hope in, or give love to God if we had not received the gift of the Holy Spirit from God the Father and his Son Jesus Christ. 

So even as we come to believe in God -- that God is trustworthy -- we prove ourselves worthy of God's trust. 

In that way, again, the Lord leads us, for, as the angels say: 

Worthy are you to receive the scroll

and break open its seals,

for you were slain and with your Blood you purchased for God

those from every tribe and tongue, people and nation.

You made them a kingdom and priests for our God,

and they will reign on earth.”

Wednesday of the Thirty-third Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 499

I, John, had a vision of an open door to heaven, and I heard the trumpetlike voice that had spoken to me before, saying, “Come up here and I will show you what must happen afterwards.”
At once I was caught up in spirit.

 

Today’s first reading from Revelation presents a marvelous image of the grand throne room in heaven where the Lord sits in majesty, surrounded by saints and angels, where every creature is caught up in ecstatic song. Something like our Sunday morning services, only better.

Scholars can tell us little about the earliest worship services of the Church. The Evangelists’ four gospels and the letters of Saint Paul suggest the “institution” of the Eucharist in the words of Jesus; especially with his three commands to: Take and eat; Take and drink; and Do this in memory of me.

An ancient document called The Didache gives us more detail about the prayer which evolved into many variations of the Eucharistic Prayer. (Our Roman Missal today has nine.) The essential formula was a reworking of a daily Jewish prayer offered before every meal. (For that reason, the Church celebrates the Eucharist daily although we require attendance only on Sunday.)

Saint John’s vision bears a greater resemblance to a royal ceremony than to the Christians’ daily worship. But it is not hard to imagine, as I do in the hospital chapel, that the doctor amid the pews, me, the TV camera, and the microphones are surrounded by enraptured saints and angels crying, “Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty!” It doesn’t take a crystal of LSD to hear the tramp of saints as they go marching in, or the flutter of angelic wings. Even the smell of incense, which is never used where smoke detectors would erupt in anguish, seems to hang redolent in the air. Nor do I doubt that Catholics throughout the world, hearing the same sacred readings; keeping the same solemnities, feasts, and memorials; and responding to the same prayers, have joined us in solemn simplicity. And finally, I am sure millions of devout persons would join us if they could. We pray with and for them. If they are missing the Mass, we feel their presence in their absence.

Despite the monotony of this quotidian ritual, we need frequent reception of the Eucharist to fortify us as we cope with the stresses of a plague-infested society. If we cannot attend Mass daily or weekly, we are assured of its continual expression in the eternal presence of God. The universe can do no less for the Lamb who was slain.

 

Memorial of Saint Elizabeth of Hungary, Franciscan Tertiary

Lectionary: 498

So, because you are lukewarm, neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth. For you say, ‘I am rich and affluent and have no need of anything,’ and yet do not realize that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked.
I advise you to buy from me gold refined by fire so that you may be rich....

 

I don’t like to write a harangue. I know I sometimes plant one in this blog and wish I hadn’t. But when certain passages of scripture are harangues, a sermon, homily, or reflection upon it will necessarily sound the same. And so…

The Spirit of Revelation describes the American mindset in his words to the Church of Laodicea, although Americans do not ordinarily admit they are “rich and affluent.” They might allow that "the poorest man in this country is still better off than anyone in Asia" -- which was true fifty years ago -- but so long as there is "someone richer than me" they cannot boast of their wealth. 

For that reason, not many Americans will take to heart Pope Francis’s admonitions in his recent encyclical, Fratelli Tutti. They do not see themselves as greedy, nor do they aspire to great wealth.

Trained from their earliest years to compete in school and on the playground, in the family against their siblings, and often against their own parents, Americans are impelled by the fear of losing, not by greed. They must succeed at all costs and never fail. They need unconditional surrender from their enemies, without regard to the enemy's merit or worth. 

This gut-loathing of second place, disappointment, failure, and loss – when it’s unrecognized – is more dangerous than simple greed.

They might be willing to play on an even playing field against disadvantaged individuals, smaller companies, or poorer nations. But as soon as they start losing the Desperation to Win, Succeed, and Overcome kicks in and they do whatever it takes to avoid Failure. This obsession in a nation with enormous natural resources must add up to excessive, toxic wealth.

Compelled by such fear, they do not realize they fit the Lord’s description: "wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked." Europeans regard us with a pitying amazement; they wonder, “Why do Americans act like that?”

That fear of losing also inspires a dread of immigrants, who are often hardworking, ambitious people with strong family values, traditional Catholic beliefs, and a willingness to work hard in thankless jobs. Instead, many Americans rally around demagogues who accuse immigrants of crime, despite the evidence. They blame "illegal aliens" for homegrown terrorism, and would rid themselves of evil by expelling defenseless people. We have an obvious need for low income workers but shudder at sharing space with them.

These attitudes disgust the Spirit of Revelation who says, “I will spit you out of my mouth.”

The Lord urges us to “buy from me gold refined by fire so that you may be rich.” Fratelli Tutti describes an economy, guided by skilled politicians, based on love. Christians and Catholics, especially, should recognize their entrenched fear of loss and gently set it aside as they make their political and economic decisions. Faced with a catastrophe born of irrational obsessions, we should crave the Lord’s heavenly wealth which is stored where neither rust corrodes nor moth consumes. It cannot be lost to swindlers, bad loans, or bank defaults; and is infinitely more secure and satisfying than anything this poor earth can offer.