Thirty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 152

Moses spoke to the people, saying:
"Fear the LORD, your God, and keep, throughout the days of your lives, all his statutes and commandments which I enjoin on you, and thus have long life.
Hear then, Israel, and be careful to observe them, that you may grow and prosper the more, in keeping with the promise of the LORD, the God of your fathers, to give you a land flowing with milk and honey.

 

The Book of Deuteronomy may be the most important book in the Old Testament and, for that reason, the most important influence on the New Testament. Although its final edit occurred after the Exile, it clearly states the principles that govern the interpretation of the Israel's history, the prophetic writings, and wisdom books. Its promises and threats are amplified in the apocalyptic works.

The Jews, returning from Babylon, to rebuild their city and to adapt to the new way of life which confronted them, asked “What happened? Where did we go wrong?” The scholars who assembled and redacted the traditions of Moses answered, we have failed to keep all the statutes and commandments which God enjoined on us. And, we have failed to fear the Lord!

When I would explain the expression which "turns off" so many people, the fear of the Lord, I think of an explanation that came to me by way of a parable:

1. The boy says, “I would never commit suicide. My dad would kill me if I did.” The boy has a good appreciation of his father’s paternal concern, despite the confused way he expresses it.
2. Later, the young man might say, “I would never commit suicide. It would kill my dad.” Maturing, he has realized how his father has sacrificed and suffered for him. He is willing to endure occasional setbacks and defeats, and perhaps the affliction of depression, rather than violate his father’s affection.
3. Finally, the mature Christian must say, “I would never kill myself. It would kill my God.” This person is remembering the sacrificial Death of Jesus, and is profoundly moved.

This fear of the Lord whom we love with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength guides our course in this complex world. Nor is this a fear of the punishing hand of a wrathful god; that caricature does not fit our experience of the Lord who is tender and compassionate. 

Rather, we fear violating the holiness, mercy, and compassion of our God. Nor would we offend the supreme dignity of God which appears in every person as their human dignity. 

In today's gospel Jesus gives us a concise summary of his ethical and moral teachings. The love of God and the love of neighbor are inseparable. Those who would measure their love of God -- perhaps seeking to justify themselves in their own eyes -- need look no further than their love for those around them. We love God no more than we love our enemies. 

Saturday of the Thirtieth Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 484

Rather, when you are invited, go and take the lowest place so that when the host comes to you he may say,
‘My friend, move up to a higher position.’
Then you will enjoy the esteem of your companions at the table. 
For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

The sword of God's word penetrates soul and spirit, and often enters areas of ordinary human interaction where we don't expect it. In today's gospel, the Lord advises us about table etiquette! 

He noticed how his companions were choosing the places of honor at a banquet. We can suppose there was an urgent rush toward those desirable spots, an impulsiveness which was barely hidden by the tight smiles and subtle pushes of the eager guests. I think of Mr. Trump's shoving the prime minister of Montenegro away from the center of the group during a photo op. 

You don't need religion to tell you how embarrassing this crude behavior is. The masks of pleasant smiles only accentuate its stupidity. 

Some Christians suppose that faith and reason are opposed to each other. When it suits them, they can dismiss scientific knowledge in favor of their own opinions. Jesus's teaching about preferring the lowest place at the table, and the possibility that you might be invited to "Come up higher!" demonstrates how realistic the Gospel is. There is nothing outlandish about living in the truth. We have only to ask the Spirit to guide us in all our ways. 

Friday of the Thirtieth Week in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 483

Then he said to them “Who among you, if your son or ox falls into a cistern, would not immediately pull him out on the sabbath day?” But they were unable to answer his question.

I read several years ago of a young Dutchman who went to Japan to study Zen within a Buddhist monastery. It took him many months to settle into the silent, slow ways of the old monks. He often fell asleep during their meditations and stumbled incoherently through their unfamiliar songs and chants. They didn't seem to ride herd on him as he lived among them; he sometimes fell through their paper walls as he returned from a local tavern late at night. They might have laughed at his European foolishness but chose patience over every other impulse. 

On one occasion, during their early morning chants, he noticed that something was amiss. Another student should have lit a certain candle but had failed to do it. Immediately the Dutchman got up, went into the backroom -- we'd call it the sacristy -- and returned with a taper to light the candle. 

Later that day, his mentor praised him to the skies for what he'd done! "You're finally getting it!" he said. 

But what was he getting? Rather than anxiously worrying about what was supposed to be done, and who had failed to do it, and what might come of this unfortunate incident, he got up and lit the candle. As simple as that. 

“Who among you, if your son or ox falls into a cistern, would not immediately pull him out on the sabbath day?”

In healing the man with dropsy in the synagogue on the sabbath Jesus did the immediate, the obvious, and the natural. That could be a problem only for those who were looking for a way to trap him.

In our present predicament, people are searching desperately for ways to stick it to their opponents. They don't need to be reasonable, compassionate, or understanding. They don't want to tolerate ordinary missteps, misstatements, and misunderstandings. If they cannot find an actual faux pas, they'll create one with a malicious misinterpretation.  

A Texas teacher in a quiet discussion among her colleagues warned them that someone might demand "an alternative opinion" to the story of the Nazi murder of six million Jews. And the Washington Post jumped on the story. Someone in the room had surreptitiously recorded the conversation without her knowledge or consent.

The Bible is familiar with our situation. The Lord teaches us how to respond to it. 

Feast of Saints Simon and Jude, Apostles

Lectionary: 666 

Jesus went up to the mountain to pray, and he spent the night in prayer to God. When day came, he called his disciples to himself, and from them he chose Twelve, whom he also named Apostles: Simon, whom he named Peter, and his brother Andrew....

I often hear people declare they are "spiritual but not religious." To which I reply, "I read the Bible; I am religious; thank God." 

I have no idea what they mean by spiritual, but it seems to mean they don't like people; they will never agree to work with, share prayer with, or believe in people. That doesn't augur well for society in general, nor any form of governance. 

The Church testifies often to the organized religion of Jesus. He had many admirers; he preferred seventy-two disciples; of those he chose twelve apostles; among them the most trusted were Peter, James, and John; and he chose Peter as the spokesman for the Twelve. He blessed that particular apostle with the Keys of the Kingdom. That, in my book, is pretty organized. 

Some would argue that Jesus didn't actually do the organizing, but his movement organized itself after he rose from the dead. Perhaps, in true democratic fashion, they elected Peter as the pope and then Mathias to replace Judas Iscariot. That narrative persuades a lot of people despite its lack of evidence. Once you prefer your own historical theories over the gospel accounts, you've entered the Lala Land of Make-Believe. If you happen to be starting a new religion, the odds are good your theories will place you in a position of dominance over those who believe your hogwash. But why would anyone believe your peculiar ideas when they can generate their own which are just as harebrained? 

The Church trusts the integrity, witness, and tradition of the apostles. We celebrates their faith several times a year. We prefer to name them even when we know little more than their names. They are real people who kept the faith and announced the gospel just like those we have known in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries who introduced us to the Lord. We admire their courage, appreciate their integrity, and are grateful for their friendship. We make no claim to know the Lord without their companionship; gratitude will not let us do that. 

And finally, we pray that we will demonstrate the same fidelity, integrity, courage, and generosity as we invite the next generation to know and love the Lord. 

Wednesday of the Thirtieth Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 481

The Spirit comes to the aid of our weakness;
for we do not know how to pray as we ought,
but the Spirit himself intercedes with inexpressible groanings.
And the one who searches hearts
knows what is the intention of the Spirit,
because he intercedes for the holy ones
according to God’s will.
We know that all things work for good for those who love God,
who are called according to his purpose.

"When I find myself in time of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me..." sang the Beatles as their run began to unravel. It's hard to suppose that their "Mother Mary" is not the Virgin Mother of God, or a very close relative. Mother is a universal symbol of both life and compassion.

 

Saint Maximillian Kolbe, one of many martyrs of Auschwitz, taught that she was the "incarnate Holy Spirit." Or at least, the Holy Spirit embodied. 

Saint Paul knew that compassionate, reassuring person in the Holy Spirit, who intercedes for us in our weakness. And confusion, distress, and anxiety. When we do not know which way to turn. Assailed as I am lately by personal distress, I wait upon the Spirit to show me the way. 

Tuesday of the Thirtieth Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 480 

For creation awaits with eager expectation
the revelation of the children of God;
for creation was made subject to futility,
not of its own accord but because of the one who subjected it,
in hope that creation itself
would be set free from slavery to corruption
and share in the glorious freedom of the children of God.

 

We know that “Creation was made subject to futility”  especially when an institution is in decline. Whether that institution be a business, church, or nation, discouragement stalks those who are dedicated to it. Whatever we do seems bound to fail. 

Having acknowledged that America will never be great again – whatever that expression meant -- futility revealed itself. Alcoholism, drug abuse, obesity, violence, and suicide were its harbingers. The exorbitant costs of education and health care cancelled any vision of a bright future. The bright promises of progress through technological innovation has proven to be empty glitter for a dispirited people. 

It is precisely in this era of widespread depression that our faith must check in. We see a phoenix emerging from ashes, babies baptized in deep baths of water, and Jesus leaping from his tomb. We find courage, willingness, generosity, and confidence welling up from the empty cisterns of our hearts. They are unexpectedly full of grace.

Monday of the Thirtieth Week in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 479

The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ, if only we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him.

On a recent Sunday we heard a fellow asking the Lord how he might "inherit" eternal life. When the Lord explained the sacrifice it entailed -- a sacrifice which is not terribly heavy to the vast majority of humankind -- the man "went away sad for he had many possessions." 

The words heir and heirs appear eleven times in the New Testament; and inheritance, seventeen times. From its frequent appearance in our sacred texts, it's obvious that the legal principle was extremely important in the Roman empire. Short of crime and conquest, there was no other way to become wealthy. The rare entrepreneur, (if we can assume this from the parable of the talents,) was also a slave and his earnings belonged to his owner.  

In today's text from Romans 8, we learn that "heirs of Christ" should expect suffering and a glorious reward. As the holy sage Job said, "We accept good things from the Lord. Should we not accept bad things as well?" 

Neither human life nor Christian discipleship is easy; nor should they be. In the symbolic death of baptism we learn to expect disappointment, disillusionment, frustration, and suffering. If we couldn't imagine those things happening when we accepted the faith, married, or were ordained, we should have nonetheless expected the unimaginable. I hope the ministers who conduct these services routinely mention this dimension of the Lord's inheritance. If they promise only sweetness and light, they lie. 

The first centuries of the Church saw a severe reaction of persecution against the alien principles of Christian worship, doctrine, and life style. Saint Paul readily boasted of his sufferings and assured his readers they should expect the same. Only after the Emperor Constantine declared the empire to be a Christian empire did they cease, and then our faith was often co-opted and compromised by halfhearted believers. 

As the world again descends into post-Christian, post-scientific, and post-democratic chaos, disciples of Jesus should expect innumerable challenges. The Spirit of God will remain with us to guide those who would be guided. We pray that we and our children might obey that willing, sacrificial, penitential spirit. "...if only we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him."

Thirtieth Sunday of Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 149

"Jesus, son of David, have pity on me."
"Son of David, have pity on me."
"Master, I want to see." 

Bartimaeus is one of the heroes of Saint Mark's gospel. I like him especially because he knows what he wants and how to ask for it, and he does ask for it. 

Everybody wants something. Abraham Maslow, the great psychologist, showed how our pile of needs are shaped in a pyramidal scale. The base consists of our simple animal needs for food, liquid, rest, and warmth. If those are met, we can address our issues of security; and then belonging and membership. If those around us also encourage self-esteem, we may flourish and find our true satisfaction in giving to others. 

Some people fantasize that they would readily give to others even if their basic needs for food and rest are unmet -- and they might for a very brief period -- but most of us get pretty testy when we feel HALT (hungry, angry, lonely, or tired), unsafe, unwelcome, or unappreciated. The human being needs and wants; anyone who pretends to want nothing is only a burden to the rest of us. 

Bartimaeus needs his sight! And in his blindness he sees the opportunity when he hears that Jesus of Nazareth -- the Son of David -- is passing by. He doesn't care what the crowd thinks of him; he will not be silenced by their scolding. He shouts at the Lord, making his presence and urgency felt.

I love what the Lord asks of the blind man, "What do you want?" A simple, straightforward question. And the blind man replies with an answer as simple and straightforward, "I want to see."

How many times do puling children refuse to tell their desperate parents what they want, as if the parent should read the inarticulate child's mind? How often do employees grumble about their employers without saying precisely what they need? 

Many of us were shamed as children when we ask for something and we learned not to ask. But our complaining was never suppressed. Nor did we take full responsibility for it.

Repeatedly the Lord urges us to grow out of those childish attitudes. We should ask, seek, knock, and expect to be heard. Lots of people say they believe in God, but those who really believe act on their faith and ask. They have neither reluctance nor shame in asking. If they don't get what they want when they want it they feel no resentment about having asked. 

For, if you don't ask you certainly cannot receive. For asking is the very process which opens us to receive. 

Having heard the blind man's demand, Jesus immediately restored his sight and told him, "Go your way!" 

Notice what he did! He followed the Lord, because that's what eyes are for. 

Optional Memorial of Saint John of Capistrano, Franciscan priest

 Lectionary: 478

But if Christ is in you,
although the body is dead because of sin,
the spirit is alive because of righteousness.
If the Spirit of the one who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you,
the one who raised Christ from the dead
will give life to your mortal bodies also,
through his Spirit that dwells in you.

Visiting my sister in Hawaii in 1980, en route to Australia, I snorkeled in a coral reef and was dazzled in the clear water, amid the colorful, oddly shaped fish. I'd never seen such colors in the muddy waters of Kentucky. 

Nor had I ever swam with a snorkel. I could swim well enough but, for good reason, had never attempted to breathe under water. Now here I was swimming, observing the coral bottom, and breathing easily. It was so much easier than the awkward movement of coming up for air with every other stroke. 

I wonder if Christian death is like that. We breathe the natural air of our blessed planet all our lives; and, as Christians, we also learn to breathe the breath of God. We are sustained by both. When the day comes that we can neither inhale the precious oxygen nor exhale carbon dioxide, we will continue to inhale the Holy Spirit and exhale all the obnoxious fumes of regret, resentment, suspicion, and fear. Enlivened and stimulated with the same Spirit that compelled the Risen Lord out of his tomb, we will sing God's praises and dance freely with all the saints and angels. 

We remember that the Lord breathed that Spirit upon the face of his disciples on the evening of his resurrection. A second story tells of the Holy Spirit coming upon the disciples at Pentecost. We receive the Spirit continually through the sacraments, especially of Baptism, Eucharist, and Confirmation, and we ask God to help us discern the blessed, guiding hand. We learn to recognize and avoid the less worthy impulses of our human nature amid the sometimes vicious prodding of the world. 

But, even as we suffer this confusion in a world so distant from God, we have Saint Paul's assurance:

Now there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.

For the law of the spirit of life in Christ Jesus

has freed you from the law of sin and death. 

"Though the just fall seven times, they rise again. (Proverbs 24:16)" for we do not stop breathing even when we fall face forward into the muck of our sins. 

Optional Memorial of Saint John Paul II, pope

 Lectionary: 477

When you see a cloud rising in the west you say immediately that it is going to rain–and so it does;
and when you notice that the wind is blowing from the south you say that it is going to be hot–and so it is. You hypocrites! You know how to interpret the appearance of the earth and the sky; why do you not know how to interpret the present time?

Physicists study the damage caused by violent storms and fierce currents in rivers. They set up huge tanks of water and watch how objects are pushed hither and yon by turbulent forces. They would describe that motion with mathematical numbers that are formulated on a micro-scale and then projected onto a macro-scale. But something is lost in the transition and the research continues.  

The fluid may be water, mud, lava, mercury, or the mixed elements of Earth's atmosphere. It may be Earth's magma and its impact on Earth's crust, a force that drives the continents as they smash into one another, bounce, and shear away. Seen over the course of several billion years even solid rock flows like water. 

Economists have looked at the more successful models of fluid motion and wondered if they might predict the stock market with its cycles of boom and bust; inflation, stagflation, and deflation. Human behavior is certainly mercurial; is it also predictable? Someone could make a fortune if they foresaw what the market will do in the next few minutes. Many people have tried and failed and lost; some few have tried, succeeded, and prospered -- until they also failed. 

But even the most fortunate may be only the winners in a blind drawing of fate. Obviously some will win and others will lose; winning doesn't mean this player is especially clever, insightful, or blessed.  

Almost two thousand years ago Jesus mocked the attempts of his contemporaries to "interpret the present time." He saw clearly that "the kingdom of God is at hand!" He predicted not one stone left upon another as Jewish zealots resorted to terrorism. They saw only the domination of Rome and Pharisees fuming about it.   

Very often God's prophets have a keen grasp of the obvious despite the wisdom of the wise and the cleverness of the clever. The stock market is driven by greed and fear while God's people stand back and wonder at its blind impulsiveness. In the immediate days after Nine-eleven it was clear that the United States would go to war against someone -- anyone! -- and the impulse to revenge would founder in the morass of the mid-east. Wiser heads, including Saint John Paul II, joined in the resistance against the rush to war to no avail. 

Saint Francis's disciples recalled some of his foolish decisions and how he atoned for them later. As he reflected on what he'd said and done as he disciplined his followers he sometimes realized he'd overreacted. For instance, when he commanded one friar to preach without his habit, revealing his bare legs to an amused audience, Francis followed him into the pulpit, also stripped, and confessed his sin to the crowd. 

But the Poverello prayed continually, reflecting on the scriptures and the sacred mysteries of our faith; and his impulses were more often guided by the infallible Spirit of God. Preferring silence to speaking and watchfulness to action in the Spirit of Ecclesiastes 3, he wanted only what God wanted, even when that meant hardship, hunger, and deprivation. Following in the footsteps of the Crucified, he found the perfect joy of the Risen Savior.

Thursday of the Twenty-ninth Week in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 476

But now that you have been freed from sin and have become slaves of God, the benefit that you have leads to sanctification, and its end is eternal life. For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.

We can be sure that Saint Paul's description of life without Christ as slavery to sin was greeted by many people with the same sneering disdain in his day as it might be today. Who doesn't thank God daily that they are not like the rest of men? I may not be wealthy but at least I am not poor white trash! I may not be gorgeous but I'm not as ugly as you know who! I may not be well educated but I am smarter than the average lout. And so forth. 

The people of the Roman empire were mostly slaves; and the Christian movement had a particular appeal to these common workers. When religion was more than imaginary -- as it is to most people today -- people found real freedom in belonging to Jesus despite their bondage; and the Apostle could remind them of what real slavery is. It is not having to obey your master but having to obey the cravings of your body and the self-centered impulses of your troubled soul. 

During our troubled era with its apocalyptic divisiveness descending even into our Catholic Church, we do well to notice the slavers who pursue us. That is, the hireling "influencers" and pundits, their wealthy backers, and the ideologues who tell us whom we should hate and why. Those who spend more time watching the endless news cycle than they do in prayer, study and meditation invite seven demons to possess their souls. 

"Slaves of God" listen to the Spirit of God, and not the divisive spirit of the time. They prefer the company of the peaceful to the frightened, angry, and hostile. When they're troubled, they  guard the deposit of faith and do not let themselves be snared by outlandish predictions of future doom. They know that God is still in charge and the only enemy is myself, the sinful one who is not worthy to be called a follower of Christ. 

They practice penance for themselves, their loved ones, their enemies, and their ancestors; and seek God's guidance as they make reparation and atonement. They rejoice in the gift of God which is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Optional Memorial of Saint Paul of the Cross, priest

Lectionary: 475

Sin must not reign over your mortal bodies so that you obey their desires. And do not present the parts of your bodies to sin as weapons for wickedness, but present yourselves to God as raised from the dead to life and the parts of your bodies to God as weapons for righteousness. For sin is not to have any power over you, since you are not under the law but under grace.

Americans love to announce how free they are to do as they please. But that definition of freedom is a recipe for slavery as what they want binds them to insatiable addictions. Many alcoholics remember their first drink; they knew in that moment that was what they wanted. It was like coming home to a place they'd never been. Long before we discovered how to distill alcohol and multiply its intoxicating effects, Saint Paul witnessed the "reign of sin" over human bodies. Given that long history, it is ironic that many people still believe freedom is doing what their bodies want. 

Perhaps they equate leisure with freedom and work with enslavement. Josef Pieper, a Thomist philosopher writing in the wake of World War II, in his essay, "Leisure, the Basis of Culture," showed how Western society had surrendered to the "totalitarian regime of work." (As a German he knew about totalitarianism, and had seen the theory of total war enacted on the world-wide scale.)  "Total work" redefines leisure as the rest, (sleeping, eating, idleness, vacation, or retirement) one does when we're not "working." Occupations like reading, writing, prayer, and contemplation can be justified in the world of "total work" only as intellectual or spiritual labor. Otherwise, they are nonsense. 

However, just to be sure they are authentic, these "works" should be strenuous and productive. If they're regarded with some loathing, all the better! But everybody knows that real workers work with their hands and the sweat of their brow, and they produce real things like food, machinery, buildings, and weapons.  

With that mindset, we are free and enjoying leisure when no one is telling us what to do, when we have no duties to fulfill, when we're not straining, or when we do as we please. But they must be justified nonetheless; that is, freedom and leisure are good if they prepare one to go back to work. Or they are earned and deserved "rewards" for one's strenuous labor. 

Problems appear when, in those infrequent moments of "leisure," some people maximize the opportunity with cigarettes, alcohol, drugs, gambling, or sex. Of course those refreshments don't come cheap; they'll have to be compensated with more work! And, eventually, the loss of one's health.

And that leisure, by our definition, is freedom. But we never escaped the tyranny of work. In fact its power is made deeper and more destructive by the addictions we picked up in our leisure moments. Our minds are not free to think; our spirits, to create; our relationships, to grow; nor our bodies, to play. There is little room in that world of total work for the promises of salvation. We have no Sabbath rest; nor can we come to the feast of heaven and earth, come to the table of plenty. 

Pieper concludes his essay on leisure with the reminder that we must celebrate festivals. We must give God his due, as our religious traditions demand. The Hebrew slaves in Egypt had no respite; in the wilderness the Lord gave them a day of complete rest. They were freed even from the necessity of collecting manna since they had amassed a sufficient store on the previous day. 

Arriving in the promised land they were commanded to celebrate three huge festivals every  year in which everyone, slave and free, native and alien, able and disabled would enjoy superabundant consumption. None should be stored overnight for there would be plenty more where that came from! All they had to do was abide by the Law which Moses had given them and God would provide.

A post-Christian society sees what happens when the Sabbath rest is cancelled. A nation of workers and consumers enjoy no rest. Learning and education, which are leisure activities, cease as students cannot afford their schooling. Life expectancy declines since there is nothing to live for. When sin reigns over our mortal bodies, we obey their desires and die in lonely bondage. 

Memorial of Saints John de Brébeuf and Isaac Jogues, Priests, and Companions, Martyrs

 Lectionary: 474 

If by that one person’s transgression the many died, how much more did the grace of God and the gracious gift of the one man Jesus Christ overflow for the many. For if, by the transgression of the one, death came to reign through that one, how much more will those who receive the abundance of grace and the gift of justification come to reign in life through the one Jesus Christ.

Sometimes, when I attend a ballgame or get stuck in heavy traffic, I wonder at the huge number of people and our belief that one man's death might save so many. Saint Paul knew crowds of people; he'd had the same experience. And yet he could declare his belief that "the grace of God and the gracious gift of the one man Jesus Christ overflow for the many."

If the pandemic has taught us anything, it's that one person's illness, like Adam's, can spread to others quickly and easily; and even exponentially, as the contagion may sicken and kill after passing undetected through several others. 

And that's only the corona virus. The more common, more vicious disease is the misinformation that arouses distrust, suspicion, and paranoia. The failure to clarify what you heard may distort a truth into a plausible misunderstanding which feeds into a widespread uneasiness about other people and their intentions, and becomes hysterical violence against defenseless people. As recently as September, Fortune Magazine reported stories of front-line nurses assaulted for enforcing routine precautions against infection. Some are attacked in grocery store if they're wearing their scrubs. 

Nor can we overlook those who knowingly, intentionally create and spread lies for political or economic gain. Their reward must surely be eternal hellfire. 

And so, in the face of such widespread evil, we ask, can the sacrificial death of one man change a world so vulnerable to deceit and so eager for mischief?

But I will not wander into "the problem of evil." I have heard it preached too often and, frankly, there is no gospel there. 

I find assurance of Jesus's power to save in the witness of those who pray and sacrifice for others; and in the confidence that comes to me in prayer. Neither the Lord nor his martyrs have died in vain. That assurance passes no cynic's acid test but it is for me a "scientific proof" of God's spirit. When I found no reason for hope I found hope. It is an abundance of grace and a gift of justification, a promise to reign in life through the one man, Jesus Christ.

Feast of Saint Luke, evangelist

Lectionary: 661 

Do not move about from one house to another. Whatever town you enter and they welcome you, eat what is set before you,
cure the sick in it and say to them, "The Kingdom of God is at hand for you."

Guided by the Roman Calendar, the universal Church often celebrates the dedication of major basilicas in Rome as, for instance, we will Saint John Lateran on November 9. The dedication of some minor basilicas, not in Rome, may also have their annual memorials on days like September 8 and August 15, when they were dedicated in honor the Virgin. 

So it strikes me as odd that we do not celebrate the feast of the Gospel According to Saint Luke, rather than the feast of Saint Luke. We know so little of the man; his few appearances in the New Testament would not rate a feast day. Saint Matthew and Mark also remain in deep shadows behind their magnificent literary edifices. 

Perhaps we honor the four evangelical writers, rather than their Gospels, to remind us that every Christian is called to be an evangelist and, in a certain sense, a gospel writer. 

Franciscans study the life and writings of Saint Francis much like we study the Old and New Testaments. Our scholars research and reveal what is known about his times; including the city of Assisi and its environs in the Mediterranean basin. They tell us about the medieval church, the arts and sciences of that time, the economic, educational, and political world of the thirteenth century, and its climate. Within that broader picture, they place Francis Bernadone, the favored son of a wealthy merchant. Finally, we study his writings and what is written about him. (These, too, are translated and sorted by scholars.) 

The research, reading, prayer, and reflection about Francis lead us to a "Gospel according to Saint Francis of Assisi.;" We watch as his spirituality evolves and deepens in the eight centuries since that time and listen to what the "patron saint of ecology" says to us today. 

Our love and profound respect for the man do not dismiss his sinfulness, although the biographers say little about that. He seems to have been a rascal as a young man, with a tendency to profligacy. He was certainly a lover but we know of no scandalous behavior with women. (They were closely guarded in those days.) His sins were finally integrated into the story of God's mercy, as ours must be; and we call the result, "the Gospel according to Saint Francis." 

Similarly, each of us is caught up in the writing of a gospel which, we hope, will end in resurrection for the Glory of God. If not many of our lives will be recorded or studied by future generations we can still declare, "I am somebody" 

Or as Linda Loman's said of Willy, "So attention must be paid. He's not to be allowed to fall in his grave like an old dog. Attention, attention must finally be paid to such a person.”

When the Lord called Lazarus out of the grave he was giving his friend that unexpected recognition, even at the cost of his own life. 

We hope that our children and grandchildren, our friends and fellow parishioners might remember our lives as gospels of a sort. Perhaps something we said, or a significant incident, an act of heroism, a kindness to a stranger: something will appear like a tessera in the vast, cosmic mosaic of Salvation History and make it all the more splendid. 

There was only one Saint Luke and his gospel stands forever both as a witness to Jesus and a testimony to the Evangelist's brilliance, courage, and integrity. But his gospel is also ours and we find our place within it as we follow in the footsteps of the Savior. 

Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 146

Jesus said to them, "You do not know what you are asking. Can you drink the cup that I drink or be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized?" 
They said to him, "We can." 
Jesus said to them, "The cup that I drink, you will drink, and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized; but to sit at my right or at my left is not mine to give but is for those for whom it has been prepared." 

Which of us does not, in their own way, ask of the Lord a privileged place in his presence? That place would be secure, trouble free, comfortable, and commanding. If we don't ask others to "peel me a grape," we will expect a handful of grapes ready at hand. 

I imagine Jesus as amused at his disciples' request. He doesn't rebuke them; he simply says, "You don't know what you're asking for." He sees clearly where this road to Jerusalem is leading. The signs are in faces of those standing on the edge of every crowd; they are shadowed, unsmiling the faces of listening spies. The disciples, facing the Lord and rapt in his words don't see what he sees; they do not hear the whispers of note-takers behind them. They interpret his words in the manner of God's spirit; they do not intentionally misinterpret his remarks, or snatch at certain words and phrases to turn them against the Lord. 

Jesus's reply is inviting and enigmatic, "Can you drink the cup I will drink?" In their simple enthusiasm they can't imagine the Lord's cup as anything but wonderful and most pleasant. They do not think of the words of Psalm 80, "You have fed them the bread of tears, made them drink tears in great measure." or Psalm 102: "I eat ashes like bread, mingle my drink with tears."

I grew up repeating daily a prayer to Mary with its reference to "this vale of tears." And then I enjoyed the post-war prosperity when the phrase seemed completely inappropriate to America's present and future. Our ancestors might have traversed a vale of tears but those days are over, long past, and nearly forgotten. There's nothing to be learned from them. 

And now the post-war era is past; that golden age of American greatness is history; and we should learn from it how prosperity breeds ingratitude, a sense of entitlement, and an unwillingness to see encroaching shadows. We should recognize that during those halcyon days we remained stubbornly unwilling to share the wealth evenly. We supposed that a rising tide floats all boats; and everyone should be content even when some boats don't rise enough to sail. America was never great to the least among us. 

Jesus's invitation remains. In his Spirit we walk with him to Jerusalem and Calvary, preferring his companionship to whatever ephemeral comforts this present moment offers. Prosperity was good while it lasted, but better days lie ahead. 

Saturday of the Twenty-eighth Week in Ordinary Time

 Lectionary: 472

Jesus said to his disciples: “I tell you, everyone who acknowledges me before others the Son of Man will acknowledge before the angels of God. But whoever denies me before others will be denied before the angels of God.

The writings of the Fathers of the Church attest to the troubles and persecutions of the early church, and to the infidelity of some self-professed Christians who found it more convenient to obey civil authorities than to stand by the hard truths of the faith. Everyone knew of the savage torture and death of the martyrs, many people preferred an easier route to salvation. 

I have met many who assure me that God loves everybody unconditionally, and everyone is assured of salvation. There was no need for the Lord to die on the cross, or for martyrs to follow in his footsteps. A good and loving God really should not send anyone to Hell! 

If I saw that everyone is indeed on the road to salvation I might believe it, but my eyes tell me differently. I meet too many whose habitual bad choices destroy their bodies, minds, and spirit; and wreak havoc on their families and neighbors. Given their choices and stubborn refusal of the better opportunities we offer them , what can God's mercy do for them? The one thing God will not do is deprive them of their power to choose. 

In today's gospel, Jesus pronounces his most severe warning, "...the one who blasphemes against the Holy Spirit will not be forgiven." He assures us that he will not take affronts against himself personally, "Everyone who speaks a word against the Son of Man will be forgiven...." But slamming the door against the Holy Spirit cuts one off from life, peace, unity, healing, forgiveness, and salvation forever. "Made in God's image" means we are free as God is free to choose, and our choices have consequences. 

The faithful are called first to make the better choices of fidelity, in the courage of hope, with the strength of love. Perhaps our presence, example, and witness -- which seem obnoxious to some -- will persuade those on the road to perdition to try our holy way of life. We have little choice in the manner, for we cannot save others by joining in their sin. 

Memorial of Saint Teresa of Jesus, Virgin and Doctor of the Church

 Lectionary: 471

For what does the Scripture say? Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness. A worker’s wage is credited not as a gift, but as something due. But when one does not work, yet believes in the one who justifies the ungodly, his faith is credited as righteousness. 

Abraham appears more often than Moses in the sayings of Jesus and the writings of Paul. The "Friend of God" had enjoyed an intimate relationship with God long before there was a Law to govern his thoughts and actions. He was like Adam and Eve in the Garden before they were told not to eat of the tree. His concern, if we could call it that, was to wait upon, listen to, and abide by the very specific directions of the Lord. He left his fatherland, traveled to Palestine, and then to Egypt, and back to Palestine. He circumcised himself, thus creating a physical bond with the Lord. He offered the sacrifices God demanded; he stoutly fought against the four kings who opposed him; and finally, he offered his only son Isaac in sacrifice. He believed God and it was credited to him as righteousness. 

In the face of the overwhelming Pharisaic reading of the Jewish tradition, with its heavy reliance on a peculiar interpretation of the Law of Moses, the Christian movement appealed to the original relationship of Abraham and God. Long before all those statutes, decrees, and ordinances with their confusing and contradictory demands, there was Abraham's remarkable friendship with God. If it began with God's terrifying presence which could only leave a human paralyzed with fear, it resolved into an intense loyalty between the Lord and the Patriarch.

The disciples enjoyed that same intimacy with Jesus; and then the Spirit gathered succeeding generations who had never seen the Lord face to face into the fellowship. Through Baptism and Eucharist we experience the Risen Body of the Lord. The Acts of the Apostles describes how the followers of Jesus announced the Gospel -- beginning at Jerusalem and moving toward the ends of the earth -- at the very specific directions of the Holy Spirit. 

In the following centuries the tradition would be more clearly defined as they determined which documents should be called canonical scripture, how the Christian liturgy would worship God, how the teaching authority of the Church would be passed to the next generation, and what deference members owed to the leadership. 

Always they retained a healthy skepticism of pharisaic attitudes and behavior. Every Christian should know the Lord as Abraham did, and wait upon his Spirit for guidance. However, that intimacy would never settle into a warm, comfy feeling of Jesus and me; intimacy wants to share in his sufferings, which were never warm and comfy. As Saint Paul said of righteousness in his letter to the Philippians:

More than that, I even consider everything as a loss because of the supreme good of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have accepted the loss of all things and I consider them so much rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having any righteousness of my own based on the law but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God, depending on faith to know him and the power of his resurrection and [the] sharing of his sufferings by being conformed to his death, if somehow I may attain the resurrection from the dead.  

Finally, Christians find our righteousness through obedience to the teaching and authority of the Church. In community we learn to consult about every good idea and hide no secret plan. The fellowship which "tests every spirit" knows the difference between diabolical impulses and divine initiatives.

Optional Memorial of Saint Callistus I, pope and martyr

Lectionary: 470 

“Woe to you who build the memorials of the prophets whom your fathers killed. Consequently, you bear witness and give consent to the deeds of your ancestors, for they killed them and you do the building.

On this feast of Pope Saint Callistus -- who established the first Christian cemeteries in Rome -- we hear Jesus acerbic remarks about the "memorials of the prophets." Apparently Jerusalem had innumerable memorials, plaques and steles to honor the great prophets like Isaiah, Ezekiel, and Jeremiah. The monument builders had conveniently forgotten the uncomfortable truth that those same prophets had persistently accused the citizens of every kind of sin. 

The controversy is all too familiar to Americans today, as the Black Lives Matter movement has targeted the monuments of Civil War "heroes." Many were erected during the last decade of the nineteenth century; many lionized the military and political leaders who defended the peculiar institution of slavery. 

These monuments were obviously more than historical artifacts, they sought to shore up the losses of the Civil War and maintain the segregated class system which survived the collapse of slavery. A system so admired by Adolf Hitler and racists around the world. These celebrated individuals may have demonstrated remarkable military and political abilities but they flagrantly betrayed the basic principles of the American Constitution. They could be admired only by those who also despised our most cherished ideals. 

Hypocrites is not too strong a word to describe the monument builders in Jesus's Jerusalem or many American cities. They could, with a straight face and an honest gaze, claim to be patriotic while actively sabotaging the freedom and rights of African-Americans and other minorities. Many, with the same cant, promote Mr. Trump's Big Lie and sacrifice children for the sake of their "gun rights." And then they say to protesters, "America: love it or leave it." 

It's enough to make the Son of the Virgin Mary curse. 

When Catholics celebrate our beloved dead we also pray that God will forgive their sins. We don't need to pretend that they were always kind, generous, and patient. We can acknowledge their accomplishments, their courage, and their shortcomings. We can admit that their memory is tainted by their worst inclinations. 

I was consulted once by a woman who said her house was haunted. I asked had anyone died recently. She spoke of a very unhappy aunt who had lived in their home, a woman who demanded much of everyone and never thanked anyone. However, when she died, they uttered only pious platitudes about her. 

So I suggested, "Go home and talk about the woman who died, and how relieved you are that she is gone. You don't have to be unkind but you do have to be honest."

The niece never came back; perhaps she took my advice. 

There is a reason why Catholics believe in Purgatory. We have some reconciling to do with our ancestors. As we pray for their souls we pray that we will forgive them for the insults that still hurt and the neglect that left an insatiable vacuum in our hearts. We pray that we will at last love them with that affectionate mercy which...

is living and effective, sharper than any two-edged sword, penetrating even between soul and spirit, joints and marrow, and able to discern reflections and thoughts of the heart. No creature is concealed from him, but everything is naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must render an account." Hebrews 4:12

 

Wednesday of the Twenty-eighth Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 469

Or do you hold his priceless kindness, forbearance, and patience in low esteem, unaware that the kindness of God would lead you to repentance?
By your stubbornness and impenitent heart, you are storing up wrath for yourself for the day of wrath and revelation of the just judgment of God...

In his zeal to describe the great mercy of God Saint Paul pulls out all the stops to persuade his readers and hearers that they must willingly, freely receive this grace. God's mercy is not like your birthday or Christmas when you know you're going to get some presents. If you habitually give presents to others on their birthdays and at Christmas, you know they owe you! And they will come through!

God's mercy is not like that; God owes us nothing. Not even an apology for our creation (... if you happen to be one of those sad sacks who feel like that.) Our fashioning from mud might have been as much as the Lord chose to give but he elected to give his Only Begotten Son for our salvation --  more than anyone could ask, expect, or imagine. 

So is it like winning the lottery? And all you have to do is buy a ticket; or in this case, believe in Jesus? Again, no. As Saint James said, "even the demons believe in God."

In his Letter to the Romans -- and the second chapter in particular -- Saint Paul must persuade us that we cannot be saved unless we receive his grace, and that can happen only as we recognize our truly desperate and wretchedly pathetic need for mercy. It's one thing to sit back and watch televised stories about victims of war, famine, and disease knowing that they need help and no help is coming. 

It's quite another to recognize the Enormity of my sin and that I am among those televised wretches precisely because I cannot and will not help them. We're in this together -- as the pandemic is teaching us -- and my best efforts amount to no help at all. 

True, the sins I am aware of don't amount to much. They seem harmless peccadilloes, hardly worth the eternal fires of hell. But I realize that the System works for me and it doesn't work for most people. And I tremble knowing that the System is entirely man-made. 

Finally, my faith tells me that God's merciful and just kingdom will set things right. On That Day of righteousness, equality, and fair play I should expect that my properties, privileges, and entitlements will be redistributed and given as their just due to the needy. 

How gracious will I be on That Day? Will I cling to my stuff as it's wrenched from me, and lose my hand in the process? Will I cling to my property as its cast into a fiery furnace, and me with it? Will I be like the citizen who was herded into the Nazi death camp, pleading, "...but I've done nothing wrong?" 

Perhaps I will remember the words of Job, "The Lord gives; the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord."

Perhaps I will admit that "All have sinned and are deprived of the Glory of God." 

Perhaps I will remember that Jesus did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, clutched, or defended. It was, to him, so much rubbish.  

For, in the end, God is my only possession, and I am owned by no one else.